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Overview
Lyle and Heidi Troyer have taken in a brother and sister, who were orphaned when their parents were killed in a car accident. Hoping to help the children adapt and make friends, Heidi decides to hold a series of cooking classes for kids. But kids are always accompanied by an adult—and that is where the trouble arises.
Miranda Cooper is living the life of a single mom to her two kids while separated from her husband, but Trent is trying to worm his way back into her heart.
Denise McGuire’s life as a wife, mom, and real estate broker is full and spilling over.
Darren Keller, single dad and firefighter, and Ellen Blackburn, single mom and nurse, find a few things in common.
Will hearts be healed over plates of Amish food?
This is the third book in The Amish Cooking Class series.
Book #1: The Amish Cooking Class - The Seekers
Book #2: The Amish Cooking Class - The Blessing
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781683226710 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Barbour Publishing, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 02/01/2018 |
| Series: | Amish Cooking Class Series , #3 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 320 |
| Sales rank: | 332,535 |
| File size: | 905 KB |
About the Author
Wanda’s ancestors were part of the Anabaptist faith, and her novels are based on personal research intended to accurately portray the Amish way of life. Her books are well-read and trusted by many Amish, who credit her for giving readers a deeper understanding of the people and their customs.
When Wanda visits her Amish friends, she finds herself drawn to their peaceful lifestyle, sincerity, and close family ties. Wanda enjoys photography, ventriloquism, gardening, bird-watching, beachcombing, and spending time with her family. She and her husband, Richard, have been blessed with two grown children, six grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren.
To learn more about Wanda, visit her website at www.wandabrunstetter.com.
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Dover, Ohio
Darren Keller poured himself a cup of coffee and headed for the living room to relax for the evening. As a full-time fireman, he had days less demanding. The men would do chores around the fire station and keep up with maintaining the trucks. Then there were days like today: unusually long and full of action. In addition to responding to three house fires, his fire department had been called out to a seven-car pileup on the interstate, involving a propane truck. Several people had been injured, and there'd been a huge fire to put out. Thankfully, no one was killed.
Darren liked his job, but it could be stressful. When his wife, Caroline, died from a brain tumor two years ago, he'd been tempted to find another job. Darren had struggled with whether it was fair to his son, Jeremy, to be raised by a single parent who might not always be there for him. There was always the possibility of being injured. Worse yet, he could be killed during the dangerous situations firemen often face. After having a heated debate with himself and seeking out a friend's counsel, he decided to stick with the job he knew and loved, remembering to take every precaution. He felt thankful for his parents' promise that, if something should happen to him, they would take care of Jeremy.
Brushing his thick, curly hair off his forehead, Darren leaned back in the easy chair and closed his eyes. An image of his beautiful wife came to mind. Darren could almost hear her sweet voice reminding him of the importance of his job. Caroline had always supported his choice to be a fireman, and he felt sure she would approve of him continuing in the profession. He couldn't count the many times his wife had said she was proud of him for the heroic deeds he considered to be normal. Even the smallest of acts, Caroline believed, were valiant, and many times she referred to Darren as a "gallant knight in shining armor." Courageous or not, it was his instinct to help and protect.
I miss you, Caroline. Jeremy misses you too. I'm doing the best I can to set a good example and teach him all he needs to know. But he needs a mom — someone to show him the softer side of life.
Hearing the clomp, clomp of feet racing through the hall, Darren opened his eyes. Stocking footed, Jeremy slid into the room, in hot pursuit of his dog, Bacon. The reddish dachshund zipped behind Darren's chair, and when Jeremy charged after, he slipped and fell.
"You okay?" Darren grabbed the arms of his chair, prepared to get up.
"Yeah." Jeremy blinked, and his cheeks flushed a bright pink. "Guess I shoulda been wearin' my shoes."
"Glad you're okay." Hoping to make light of the situation, Darren pointed to the floor. "Hope the floor's okay too."
With a groan, and an eye roll, Jeremy clambered to his feet. "That stupid mutt never comes when I call him."
Darren shook his head. "Now don't blame Bacon, and he's not a stupid mutt. The little fella's still a pup, and you shouldn't have been running through the house."
Rubbing his elbow, Jeremy dropped his brown-eyed gaze to the floor. "Sorry, Dad."
Darren clapped his hands. "Come here, Bacon. There's no need for you to hide."
Looking sheepish, as he crawled on his belly, the dog came out from behind the chair.
Darren reached down and rubbed Bacon's silky ears. He'd given the dog to Jeremy for his birthday last month, hoping it would not only offer the boy companionship, but teach him responsibility.
"Hey, Dad, are there any of those cookies left that Mrs. Larsen brought us last week?" Jeremy leaned close to Darren's chair. Corine Larsen was a sweet grandmotherly woman who looked after Jeremy when Darren was at work.
"Nope. I put the last of 'em in your lunch box when you left for school this morning."
Jeremy frowned. "Would ya buy some more cookies?"
"I could, but it might be fun if you learned how to bake them yourself."
Jeremy tipped his head. "Are you gonna teach me?"
Darren reached for the newspaper lying on the side table beside his chair. "No, but I saw an ad earlier about a woman who lives in Walnut Creek. Starting next month, she'll be teaching a cooking class for kids every other Saturday for six weeks. Since you'll be getting out of school for the summer next week, a cooking class might be fun. What do you think?"
"No way! There'd probably be a bunch of girls there." Jeremy folded his arms. "I think it's a bad idea, Dad."
"I don't. In fact, I'm going to call the number listed and get more details."
* * *
Berlin, Ohio
Miranda Cooper stared at her reflection in the full-length bedroom mirror. Her straight, shoulder-length auburn hair lacked body. She should probably try a different style, or maybe get a perm to fluff it up. But why bother with that? Miranda wasn't trying to impress anyone — least of all her husband, Trent, who'd moved out of their house a month ago, because she asked him to.
"Well, it doesn't matter." She plumped her tresses. "He's not here to notice anymore. If only he hadn't ..."
Miranda's six-year-old son bolted into her room through the open door. "Who ya talkin' to, Mommy?"
"No one, Kevin. Well, actually, I was talking to myself."
He stared up at her with a curious expression. "What were you sayin' to yourself?"
"Nothing important." Miranda ruffled the boy's sandy brown hair, then smoothed it down over his ears. She kept the sides long enough to cover her son's ears, which sometimes made him the brunt of other children's teasing. Kids could be cruel. It wasn't Kevin's fault his ears stuck out. His older sister, Debbie, was protective and usually stood up for him. With two years between them, they'd always gotten along well.
Kevin flopped down on her bed, and Miranda tickled his bare toes. "Where's your sister?"
"In her room, fixin' her ponytail." Kevin sat up. "Hey, can we get a trampoline for the backyard? Aaron's parents bought him one last week."
"That might be a question you can ask your dad, but maybe you should wait and see if the fun of it wears off for your friend. I've noticed a lot of trampolines in people's backyards, but rarely see anyone playing on them." Miranda sat beside Kevin. "For now, when you go over to Aaron's house, you can enjoy his."
"Okay, Mommy." Kevin jumped up and ran out of the room.
"Don't forget to pick up your clothes!" Miranda shook her head. Getting Kevin to pick up after himself was like reminding her husband to visit the kids more often.
I wish there was something fun for Debbie and Kevin to do this summer. Miranda twirled her fingers around a strand of her hair. Maybe I should sign them up for the cooking class I read about in the paper this morning. I think they might enjoy doing it together.
* * *
Canton, Ohio
Denise McGuire sank to the edge of her bed, covering her face with her hands. If ever there was a time she felt like giving up her career as a Realtor, it was now. The events of today had been stressful. Her first appointment had been scheduled for nine o'clock this morning, but thanks to her daughter having a hissy fit during breakfast, Miranda had been forty minutes late. When she finally got to her office, the people had left. Not a good way to start the day — especially with prospective clients.
On top of that, by the time she dropped Kassidy off at her school, Miranda had developed a headache. Who wouldn't get a headache when they'd been listening to their eleven-year-old daughter carry on from the moment she'd taken a seat at the breakfast table until she'd gotten out of Denise's luxury sedan in the school parking lot? Kassidy's tirade had been about something so stupid — wanting to get her hair dyed dark brown like her mother's, because she hated her own red hair. No matter what Denise said to discourage her daughter, Kassidy was relentless — shouting and screaming that she wasn't loved and wished she had different parents. Before he'd left for work, Denise's husband, Greg, had tried to reason with their daughter, but he'd gotten nowhere. Greg had a way of knowing when to bolt, leaving Denise to deal with their daughter. Once Kassidy made her mind up about something, there was no rationalizing with her.
Maybe it's my fault, because I'm so busy with my job and other obligations. I need to find something we can both do together this summer, when Kassidy's out of school. Denise rubbed her forehead. But when would I have the time? My schedule is erratic, and many people look for houses during the summer. Normally, sales increased once the weather turned warm, which also meant Denise's income increased.
She rose from the bed and moved over to stand by the window. The sun had already set, and shadows lay across their expansive backyard. Greg was at a meeting with some other lawyers from his firm and would no doubt get home late this evening. "Even if he was here," she murmured, "he probably wouldn't want to discuss the situation with Kassidy."
These days, with Greg's busy law practice, he was rarely at home. When he was, he wanted to relax and be left alone. Denise could relate, as she needed some downtime too. But she always made a little time each day to connect with their daughter, although sometimes she wondered why. Dealing with Kassidy's negative attitude was draining. It seemed there was no pleasing the girl.
Denise leaned her forehead against the window, hoping the cool glass might ease her pounding head. She stood up straight, as a thought popped into her head. After showing another client a home at noon, she had stopped for a bite to eat in Sugarcreek. When Denise left the restaurant, she'd seen a flyer on a bulletin board near the door, advertising cooking classes for children. At the time, she hadn't paid much attention to it, but wished now she'd had the presence of mind to write down the information.
I think I'll go back to that restaurant tomorrow and see what I can find out about the cooking classes. The activity with other children might be good for Kassidy. Denise couldn't count all the times she'd tried teaching her daughter to cook a few simple things. Maybe someone who wasn't related would have better luck.
CHAPTER 2
Millersburg, Ohio
It's time for bed, Becky," Ellen Blackburn called from the kitchen, where she sat with a cup of herbal tea. She'd put a cherry pie in the oven after talking on the phone with her friend Barb. While Ellen waited for the pie to bake, she jotted a few things down on her grocery list. The store where she frequently shopped had good prices on fresh fruits and vegetables this week, and she wanted to make sure the fridge was restocked with healthy items.
Ellen was careful about food choices, not only for herself, but also for her ten-year-old daughter. She wanted to be a good role model and start Becky out young, teaching her good eating habits. Ellen believed if people ate healthy food, nine times out of ten, they would stay healthy throughout their life. Every so often, though, like this evening, Ellen got in the mood to bake something on the sweeter side.
Hearing voices from the other room, Ellen shouted once more: "Becky, please turn off the TV."
But again, her daughter did not respond.
Setting her cup on the table and pushing her chair aside, Ellen rose to her feet. Is Becky so engrossed in the program she's watching that she doesn't hear me?
When Ellen entered the living room, she was surprised to discover that even though the television was still on, Becky was asleep on the couch.
She pointed the remote toward the TV and turned it off, then bent down and gently shook her daughter's shoulder. "Wake up, sweetie. It's time for bed."
Becky's eyelids fluttered, then closed again.
Ellen stroked her daughter's olive-tone face. "Wake up, sleepyhead. You need to brush your teeth and go to bed."
Yawning, Becky sat up and swung her legs over the couch. "I missed the rest of my show, Mom. I wanted to see how it ended."
"I'm sure it'll be back as a rerun soon."
"Yeah, and since school will be out for the summer soon, I can watch all my favorite programs."
Ellen shook her head. "Sorry, honey, but you're not going to spend the whole summer watching TV. There are lots of other things you can do."
"Like what?"
"I'm thinking about signing you up for a children's cooking class." Ellen pointed to the newspaper lying on the coffee table. "I read about one, and I believe you would enjoy it."
Becky squinted her hazel-green eyes, the way she always did when she was thinking. "Would it be just me and the teacher, or would other kids be there too?"
"I doubt it would only be you. I'm sure other children would take part in the class."
"I don't wanna do it then."
Ellen sighed. Sometimes Becky's shyness got in the way of her making new friends. It was something she needed to work through. Learning how to cook with other children might be exactly what her daughter needed.
"We'll talk about this later. Right now, you need to get your teeth brushed."
"Okay, Mom."
Ellen watched her daughter skip down the hallway toward the bathroom. Then a smoky aroma reached her nostrils.
"Oh no!" Ellen ran toward the kitchen. "Bet I forgot to turn the oven temperature down. Maybe I'm the one who needs cooking lessons."
* * *
Walnut Creek
"I'm not tired. I don't wanna go to bed." Randy sat on the living-room floor with his arms folded, staring up at Heidi defiantly. His blue eyes held her steady gaze.
This wasn't the first time the boy had challenged Heidi's authority. Just when she felt they were gaining some ground, Randy exuded stubbornness.
In a firmer tone, Heidi said, "Please do as I say and help your sister pick up the toys."
Randy continued to sit, holding his lips in a straight line. Marsha sat beside her brother, seemingly oblivious to the conflict going on. Her blond ponytail bobbed as she rocked back and forth, holding her baby doll.
With a sigh of exasperation, Heidi turned to look at Lyle. He sat on the sofa reading the latest edition of The Connection magazine.
Lyle set the magazine aside and rose to his feet. Then he marched across the room, bent down, and looked directly at Randy. "Okay, little buddy, let's go brush your teeth, and then I'll tuck you into bed."
Without a word of argument, the boy gathered his toys, put them in the wicker basket across the room, and padded down the hall.
Heidi pursed her lips. Now why couldn't Randy have done that for me? Although pleased because the child obeyed Lyle, it frustrated Heidi that he hadn't listened to her. Do I need to take a firmer hand or try to be more patient?
At times like this, Heidi wondered if she had what it took to be a good parent. Of course, she reminded herself, if I had been given the opportunity to raise a child from infancy, things might be different.
For a brief moment, her thoughts went to the baby she and her husband had almost adopted — until Kendra Perkins changed her mind and decided to keep her infant daughter. Well, that was in the past, and she needed to move on.
Remembering that Marsha still sat on the floor, holding her doll, Heidi knelt next to the child. "It's time for bed, Marsha." She held out her hand.
The little girl looked up at her and blinked several times. Then, with a quick nod, she took Heidi's hand and stood.
Heidi smiled and hugged the child, relieved that Marsha hadn't put up a fuss. This was progress. Often, when Randy became stubborn, his sister did too.
Heidi led Marsha down the hall and into the room that would have been their baby's nursery, had they been able to adopt. Since Marsha sometimes woke up crying during the night, Heidi wanted her to sleep in a room close to the bedroom she shared with Lyle. When the children arrived last December, Lyle had set up two small beds in the nursery so Marsha and her brother could be together. But a few months later, Randy decided he wanted to sleep in one of the upstairs bedrooms. The little guy tried to be so independent and brave, but at times Heidi found him crying. She tried to offer comfort, but Randy always pulled away. He seemed more comfortable with Lyle. Heidi assumed the boy had been close to his father and related better to a man.
"Let's put your doll on the bed so we can take off your dress and put your nightgown on." Heidi spoke softly to Marsha, and she felt grateful when the little girl did what she asked.
Once Marsha was in her nightgown, Heidi led her down the hall to the bathroom so she could wash her face and brush her teeth. After the task was done, they returned to the bedroom.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Amish Cooking Class: The Celebration"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Wanda E. Brunstetter.
Excerpted by permission of Barbour Publishing, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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