Susanna's Dream: The Lost Sisters of Pleasant Valley, Book Two Read Online Free PDF Page B

work.
    “He’s a gut craftsman, that’s certain-sure.” Dora set the toy back on the shelf. “Someone was in just the other day asking when we’d have a new clock in. I can’t call to mind who, but I wrote it in the green book.”
    The green book was nothing fancier than a schoolchild’s notebook, where they listed items folks were looking for. A surprising number of repeat sales came that way. Oftentimes they were able to find exactly what a customer wanted just by asking among the craftspeople.
    “I’ll drop Lydia a note and ask her when we can expect another clock from Adam,” she said. “They have an apple orchard, though, and this is probably a busy time of year for them.”
    Dora nodded. “True enough. The orchard must be a big part of their livelihood.”
    “Lydia says they’re sehr thankful for the outlet for Adam’s clocks. It means he doesn’t have to work away from home now. So it helps us and them.” That was a satisfying thing, to bring together a craftsman and the buyer who would love his work.
    “You’ve done a fine job of finding new crafts, like the clocks,” Dora said. “You have a gift for the business—I knew it from the first day you came to work.”
    “I love it,” she said simply. Her gesture took in the displays . . . from hooked rugs to candles to quilted mats to pottery to paintings . . . Everywhere there was color, and every object seemed to express the personality of its maker. “Just walking in the shop makes me happy. I never dreamed something like this could be partly mine.”
    “More than partly, I think,” Dora said. “Your heart is in the shop. I’ve been wonderful lucky to have you as a partner.”
    It was an unusual expression of feeling from the practical Dora, and while it warmed Susanna’s heart, it also caused her a touch of wariness.
    “Your daad was wise to see how much the partnership would mean to you,” Dora went on. “Not every father would see the importance of a business opportunity for his daughter.”
    Susanna shrugged ruefully. “I think by then he realized I wasn’t going to marry. It was a way of being sure I was taken care of.”
    “Ach, that’s foolish talk,” Dora scolded, her eyes snapping. “You talk as if you’re a hundred and two. You’re not even in your thirties, and any man would be lucky to have you as a wife.”
    Susanna just shook her head. Dora meant well, but Susanna had accepted the truth a long time ago. Her limp hadn’t kept her from having all the usual friendships when she was growing up, but when boys and girls started pairing off during rumspringa, she’d been the one left behind, the boys talking to her, even seeking her advice about the girls they fancied, without ever seeing her as a possible mate.
    “Just because you’re not arguing doesn’t mean I can’t see what’s in your mind,” Dora chided. “It’s true that a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old boy might not understand your worth, but a grown man ought to be a bit smarter. Mark my words, love will come along for you when you least expect it.”
    “Maybe you’re right,” she said, hoping to pacify Dora. But she certainly wouldn’t count on it.
    More to the point, was all this talk about Susanna’s marriage prospects a prelude to breaking the news that Dora was thinking to give up the shop? She wanted to ask, but she was afraid to hear the answer.
    “Well, I think . . .” Dora’s voice trailed off oddly.
    Susanna, spinning toward her, saw pallor sweep across Dora’s normally ruddy face, bleaching it of color.
    “Was ist letz?” She rushed to take Dora’s arm. “Komm, sit.” She shoved a step stool out from under the nearest counter.
    “Chust a little dizzy-like,” Dora muttered, sinking onto the stool.
    Then, before Susanna could do a thing about it, she sank right on down to the floor.
    “Dora!” Terror seized her throat, so that she felt she couldn’t take a breath. She dropped to her knees, grasping Dora’s wrist