Huckleberry Hearts Read online

  HUCKLEBERRY HEARTS

  Cassie pressed her fingers to her lips to push the smile away. “My mamm was never known for her tact. I’m just glad you aren’t angry. My mamm has high hopes that Elmer Lee will fall head over heels in love with me the minute he sees me in this pink dress.”

  “It wouldn’t matter if you were wearing a burlap sack,” Zach said. “Seven or eight guys are going to fall in love with you today. You’re that pretty.”

  The tinge of cherry-blossom pink on her cheeks proved incredibly attractive. “Don’t tease me. No one is even going to look twice.”

  “They’re all going to look at least twice.”

  She laughed. “You are incorrigible.”

  He couldn’t resist slipping his hand into hers. Her cheeks got pinker, but she didn’t pull away . . .

  Books by Jennifer Beckstrand

  HUCKLEBERRY HILL

  HUCKLEBERRY SUMMER

  HUCKLEBERRY CHRISTMAS

  HUCKLEBERRY SPRING

  HUCKLEBERRY HARVEST

  HUCKLEBERRY HEARTS

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  Huckleberry Hearts

  JENNIFER BECKSTRAND

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  HUCKLEBERRY HEARTS

  Books by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  SWEET AS HONEY,

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Anna Helmuth glanced up from her knitting long enough to study the top of Dr. Reynolds’s head. “Doctor, I can see your whole head from up here, and I’m happy to say that you haven’t got any bald spots.”

  “That’s good news,” the doctor replied. “My maternal grandfather was as bald as a cue ball.”

  Anna sat on the exam table with one shoe off and one shoe on, knitting a baby blanket for the newest arrival in the Helmuth family, a baby daughter to her grandson Aden and his wife Lily. Anna’s husband Felty sat next to her with a gift box in his lap.

  The young, handsome doctor with the slightly crooked nose perched on his rolling padded stool, carefully examining the bottom of Anna’s foot, and that was why she had such a good view of the top of his head. He worked his thumbs around the edges of the black spot the size of a quarter on the pad of her foot. She squirmed and tried not to drop a stitch while he poked at her.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Helmuth,” the doctor said, applying firmer pressure so as not to make Anna jump out of her skin.

  “Call me Anna. We Amish don’t go by ‘Mister’ and ‘Missus.’”

  One side of the doctor’s mouth curled upward even as his eyes danced with good-natured humor. “Sorry, Anna.”

  His smile was one of the reasons Anna was considering him as a match for her granddaughter. Cassie needed a pleasant young man who would make her laugh and wasn’t afraid to be laughed at. He had good teeth and a full head of hair, which made it more likely that Cassie would take a second look, and although Cassie wasn’t Amish anymore, she needed a godly husband more than anything else. The doctor had a way about him that told Anna he was a man of God, deep down.

  Anna’s knitting needles clicked in an easy rhythm born from years of practice. “You’re not married, are you, Doctor?”

  Felty drummed his fingers on the top of the box in his lap. “You asked him that same question at our last appointment, Banannie.”

  Anna raised her eyebrows at her husband. “It’s been two weeks. I’m just making sure his situation hasn’t changed.”

  Dr. Reynolds chuckled softly even as his fingers probed the bottom of Anna’s foot. “Nope, not married.”

  “And what about a girlfriend? Do you have any girlfriends?”

  “No girlfriend.”

  Anna winked at Felty as her smile grew wider. “You must be wonderful lonely yet,” she said, starting a new row of stitches on her blanket.

  The doctor let Anna’s foot slip from his grasp and scooted over to the cart that held his computer. “I don’t have much time for a social life. The hospital kind of owns me until I finish my residency. I live in a one-bedroom apartment with an ancient sofa and a turtle named Queenie. I don’t get out much except to come to the hospital.” He looked up from his computer long enough to give them a genuine smile. “But I don’t mind. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for as long as I can remember, and I get to treat good people like you. You are the first Amish folks I’ve ever met.”

  “It’s gute you met us first instead of David Eicher,” Felty said. “He’s a hard pill to swallow.”

  Anna nudged her husband with her elbow. “Now, Felty. Be careful what you say. David’s daughter is married to our grandson.”

  The doctor looked like he was doing important work on his computer and she hated to interrupt him, but she had to know a few things before committing to him altogether. “Do you like children, Doctor?”

  “Children? I love ’em. I want a whole passel of kids someday.” His lips curved as he typed away at his computer. “Which is probably why I don’t have a girlfriend. Talk of kids tends to scare women off.”

  “Not if you’re Amish. We’re determined to multiply and replenish the Earth.”

  “Single-handedly,” Felty added with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Now, Felty.” Anna looped the yarn around her needle and eyed Dr. Reynolds. “Are you a hard worker, Doctor?” Her mamm always used to say that being a hard worker was the best quality a son-in-law could possess.

  The doctor stopped typing long enough to consider the question. “I hope so. You can’t survive medical school without knowing how to work hard. My family owned a cherry orchard growing up. I used to work in the orchards with my dad. In the spring I pruned trees until I thought my neck would fall off. In the summer my brothers and I memorized scriptures while we picked cherries.”

  “You memorized scripture?”

  The doctor sprouted a crooked, unnatural grin and nodded.

  That was all she needed to hear. God had put the doctor in Anna’s path, and Anna wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. There wasn’t even time to consult Felty. She had to act fast.

  The doctor rolled back to the exam table and took Anna’s hand in his. Sympathy flooded his expression. “Mrs. Helmuth—”

  “Anna.”

  “Anna, I’m afraid I have bad news. We got the results from the biopsy we did at your last visit. That black patch on the bottom of your foot is cancer. Melanoma. It will have to be cut out.”

  Anna furrowed her brow. “Does this mean I need to come back?”

  Dr. Reynolds nodded gravely. “Several times. We�
�ll have to cut out the bad part of the skin, and if it’s deep, you’ll need a skin graft. Someone will have to come to your house several times a week to change the dressing and check the site for infection.”

  Anna burst into a smile. “So we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

  The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Not exactly the reaction I expected.”

  “God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform.” Anna deposited her knitting in the canvas bag next to her, slid from the table, and took the box from Felty’s lap. “You’ll be the one operating, won’t you?”

  “I could do it, but I’m on my dermatology rotation right now. You might want the plastic surgeon to do your skin graft. I’ve only done six weeks of plastic surgery.”

  “Stuff and nonsense. You’re being humble.” Anna pursed her lips and turned to Felty. “Another wonderful-gute quality in a husband.”

  The doctor’s lips twitched. “I assume you want someone to operate on you, not marry you.”

  Anna pinned the doctor with the look she usually reserved for naughty grandchildren, complete with the twinkle in her eye. “I don’t want to marry you, Doctor. Felty and I have been very happy for sixty-four years.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Dr. Reynolds said.

  “But I’ll only agree to the surgery if you do it,” Anna added, standing firm so that not even a team of Percheron horses could move her.

  A grin played at Dr. Reynolds’s lips. “I’ll have to check with Dr. Mann first, but it should be okay.”

  Beaming like a lantern on a dark country road, Anna handed Dr. Reynolds the box. “I made these especially for you, Doctor. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

  Dr. Reynolds opened the box and pulled out the navy blue mittens that went with the fire-engine red scarf and the red and blue beanie Anna had knitted, also in the box. “These are for me? Why would you knit a pair of mittens for me?”

  Anna grinned. It was always gute to keep potential suitors a little off balance. “There’s a beanie and scarf to go with it.”

  “It’s an extraordinary gift for someone you barely know.”

  “My grandmotherly talents haven’t led me astray yet. You’re the one I’ve chosen to receive the special beanie.”

  The doctor looked as if he didn’t quite know how to argue with that. Smiling, he picked up the red and blue beanie and stretched it onto his head. It fit perfectly over all that thick hair of his. “Thank you. It’s very kind. Knitting reminds me of my mother.”

  “I want you to feel warm and cuddly when you think of the Helmuths.”

  Dr. Reynolds grinned as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. Anna had made it extra long. She didn’t want a stumpy scarf to be the reason he wouldn’t marry her granddaughter.

  “Just in time for the coldest days of winter,” he said.

  Anna was sure he would have put on the mittens too, if he weren’t still working on the computer. He finished whatever he was typing, took Anna’s hand, and guided her to sit in one of the soft chairs. Felty, bless his heart, waited on the exam table—probably keeping it warm in case she needed to sit there again.

  The doctor, with his beanie and scarf, rolled his stool directly in front of Anna. “I don’t want you to worry about this. There’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to get all the cancer during surgery. You’re going to be just fine. And have a killer scar on the bottom of your foot.”

  Anna waved her hand in the doctor’s direction. “Oh, I’m not worried. The good Lord has a purpose for everything. Isn’t that right, Felty?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  She patted the doctor’s hand. “But if you’re worried about it, we should pray together. God will comfort you better than even my beanie can.”

  A shadow flitted across the doctor’s face. “I’m not worried. You’ll be fine.”

  Anna didn’t especially like that expression. “You’re uncomfortable praying?”

  “I suppose I am.”

  “But you said you used to memorize scriptures.”

  “I did. Out in the orchard.” The doctor lowered his eyes. “That was a long time ago.”

  Anna scrunched her lips together. “Oh, dear.”

  Dr. Reynolds swiped his hand down his face. “The truth is, Mrs. Helmuth—”

  “Anna.”

  “Anna, God and I aren’t on speaking terms, but if you want someone to pray with you, I can call Marla. She’s one of the nurses, and she goes to Mass every Sunday.”

  Cassie might not have been Amish anymore, but she still needed a godly husband, and someone who didn’t talk to God would not be a godly husband. How could Anna have been so mistaken about this one? He seemed like such a nice boy. And ach, du lieva, she’d already given him the carefully knitted beanie and scarf. And mittens! Mittens were no small thing.

  “Oh, dear,” Anna said again. “Felty, I’m afraid I’ve cast my pearls before swine.”

  “No such thing, Annie.”

  Dr. Reynolds cracked a smile. “Am I the swine?” He pulled the beanie off his head, and wisps of his sandy blond hair stuck straight into the air. “If you’d rather offer this to someone more religious than I am, I completely understand. You had no idea what my relationship with God was before you gave it.” His expression almost melted her heart. He truly held no hard feelings whatsoever. Maybe there was hope.

  What kind of person would she be if she took back a gift simply because the young man might be unsuitable for her granddaughter? “Of course not,” Anna insisted. “Even if you are a swine, I gave that beanie freely. I want you to have it.”

  Dr. Reynolds chuckled as his eyes danced with amusement. “I guess I’m not used to the Amish customs yet.”

  Anna wrung her hands. “Oh, dear. I didn’t mean to call you a swine. It’s just an expression.”

  The doctor patted her hand reassuringly. “I know what you meant. And if it makes you feel better, you’re not the first woman to call me that.”

  Felty always seemed to be able to get to the heart of the matter. “So you don’t believe in God?”

  Dr. Reynolds frowned in concentration. “I’m not sure.”

  “That’s better than a ‘no,’” Felty said.

  Anna tapped her finger to her lips. “So your faith is wavering, but not altogether extinguished. Felty can work with that, can’t you, Felty?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Annie.”

  “I mean that there’s still hope for Dr. Reynolds,” Anna said.

  The doctor lowered his head to hide another grin. “Probably not.”

  “Just you wait,” Anna said, nodding at the good doctor who’d misplaced his faith. “By this time next week, your faith will bloom like a cherry tree in springtime.”

  The doctor cocked an eyebrow. “What’s so special about next week?”

  Cassie was what was so special, of course, but Anna couldn’t very well ruin the surprise. The doctor would take to Cassie like a fruit fly took to a mushy apricot. And Lord willing, he’d find his faith again.

  Maybe the beanie was in the right hands, after all.

  Chapter Two

  Weaving wildly from side to side was not usually the way Cassie Coblenz liked to drive, but it was the only way she managed to get up Mammi and Dawdi’s hill in “The Beast.” The Beast was what she affectionately called her 1993 Honda Accord. Affectionately, because that car, which she had scraped together every last dime to buy, had seen her through five harsh Midwestern winters, had nearly 240,000 miles on it, and hadn’t complained about anything, even when Cassie drove it all the way to New York City to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

  Mammi and Dawdi’s hill proved to be quite an adventure. The roads were plowed, but once Cassie ventured off the pavement and onto the lane that climbed up Huckleberry Hill, the way became icy and nearly impossible to navigate. A horse-drawn sleigh would have done much better than a car.

  Cassie finally made it to the top of the hill and pulled The Beast in front of Mammi and
Dawdi’s house. There it was, just like she remembered it as a child: the wide covered porch with no chairs to sit on, the kerosene lamp that hung on a peg just outside the front door, the large kitchen window that faced the front of the house so that Mammi could see everybody who came up the hill.

  Cassie couldn’t remember a time when Mammi hadn’t run out of the house to greet her when she came for a visit. Mammi wanted everyone to feel welcome and loved before they even set foot in her house.

  Cassie turned off the car, closed her eyes, and leaned back against the headrest. She needed a place where she could catch her breath for a minute, a place where she didn’t feel pushed or pulled or bullied or stretched.

  Mamm would be disappointed that she had chosen Mammi’s house instead of her own home to stay, but her mamm was one of the worst offenders in the pushy department. At Mamm’s house, Cassie lived with a constant headache right between her eyes.

  Mammi and Dawdi never lectured her about the church or baptism or hell. They just let her be.

  She needed a place to be.

  The tapping on the window startled her a bit. She jerked her head up and came face-to-face with Mammi grinning at her from the other side of the window. Of course Mammi would come out to greet her. She had the big kitchen window, after all.

  Mammi stepped back so Cassie could open the car door. She jumped out and threw her arms around her little Amish mammi. Dawdi stood taller than the average Amish dawdi, and most of the Helmuth children and grandchildren had inherited their height from him, but Mammi was a puny little thing, no taller than five feet on a good day. Cassie wouldn’t trade her mammi for all the paintings in the Louvre, but she was glad she’d gotten Dawdi’s height. She clocked in at five-eight without heels.

  Mammi gripped Cassie tightly around the waist. “Cassie, Cassie, Cassie. This is the best day in the whole world. We are overjoyed that you would spend your summer vacation with us.”

  Cassie giggled. It was January sixth and the temperature couldn’t have been more than twenty-five degrees. Somewhere along the way Mammi had gotten her wires crossed. Summer vacation was a long ways away. “Well, winter break anyway,” Cassie said.