An Amish Family Reunion Read Online Free PDF Page A

You have no idea how much good a porch swing can do for a girl’s heart. And I will try my best.” Hannah gracefully rose to her feet and followed after her husband.
    Phoebe tried to say thank you, but she only managed a strangled croak. Instead, she sat and rocked…and rocked, for close to an hour. Daylight faded. Night fell like a shroud as soon as the sun dropped behind the western hills. Fireflies blinked on and off, hovering over the fresh-mown lawn. Overhead, owls hooted from high branches as they settled down for the evening. She was about to give up and go to bed when Hannah emerged from the shadows. The look on her face required no explanation.
    “He has agreed to let you attend the outing, providing you stay with the group at all times.” Hannah offered a sweet smile.
    Phoebe ran to her, almost knocking her mother down the steps. “
Danki, mamm
. I’m so grateful, but what about the cost? I don’t have enough money saved.” She squeezed Hannah as tightly as she could.
    Hannah pried her arms loose to breathe. “I’ve enough left from selling my last load of wool to the gift shop in Sugar Creek. You’ll just have to sell plenty of eggs this summer to pay me back.” The two walked into the front room joined at the hip, letting the screen door slam behind them. “But let’s not talk much about the trip in front of your father for a while. Give him a chance to settle into the idea.”
    “That won’t be a problem. Thank you.” Phoebe arched up on tiptoes for the second time that evening to deliver a kiss, and then she fled up the steps as though chased by a swarm of hornets.
    She would be too busy planning what to pack and what art supplies she would need to sit chatting around the kitchen table. Once inside her room with the door closed, she withdrew the colorful brochure from her pocket. By lamplight she studied the grinning faces lined up at the rail of the
Maid of the Mist
, while the boat rocked precariously in turbulent waters. Soon, one of those tourists shrouded in blue plastic would be her—Phoebe Miller of Holmes County, Ohio. And that was the last mental picture she had before falling blissfully to sleep.

    Leah Miller Byler cut salt and butter-flavored shortening into the flour until the mixture resembled coarse bread crumbs. Then she carefully added cold water and mixed, kneading with her hands until she had a soft but firm ball of dough. Dividing the dough into quarters, she then rolled each one out to exact proportions for crusts for four pies. She filled her pans, crimped the edges, broiled the crusts a few seconds to prevent shrinkage, and then baked them until golden brown.
    Baking day—an all-day exercise of patience and love into which Leah threw herself wholeheartedly. Cleaning, slicing, and sweetening fruit for simple fillings like peach, apple, cherry, or blackberry, or whipping together puddings and sour cream to create complex parfaits—she was at her best. She would then top off her creations with delicate meringues or fluffy whipped cream, decorated with select berries or crystallized edible flowers. Leah’s pies—twelve varieties, all original recipes—were sold throughout the county at restaurants, grocery stores, and gift shops. Folks stopped in at her former diner, now called April’s Home Cooking, specifically for her desserts.
    Leah loved to bake. Since getting married and selling her half of the partnership to May, April’s sister, Leah could bake to her heart’s content in her own kitchen. Technically, the kitchen belonged to her mother-in-law, Joanna Byler, who happily spent her days in the dairy churning out her beloved artisan cheeses. Joanna would come to the kitchen to help Leah fix meals, but the two Byler women seldom got in each other’s way.
    As Leah pulled from the oven the perfectly golden crusts that would soon become Peach Parfait Supreme, she heard the screen door slam.
    “My goodness, are you all right? A twister must have touched down that I