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Brenneman
     and together they scooted three small tables together. Hannah scurried to set bundles
     of silverware in place. “ Gut mornin’ to ya!” Ben said as he gestured for the group to be seated. “Nice to see
     everybody out and about on such a cold mornin’, ready for a hot breakfast !”
    Miriam flashed Ben a grateful smile. Hannah hadn’t made it around to refill any coffee
     mugs—but there was only the one of her when most times both Rachel and Rhoda bustled
     about taking care of such jobs.
    Lord, help us stay cheerful, she prayed as she approached the table where the two preachers sat. And bless my Rhoda as she starts her new job, too. It was so gut to see the sparkle in her eyes when she told me about the Leitner family.
    Gabe Glick, the oldest preacher in Willow Ridge, held up his mug as she approached.
     “You seem to be shorthanded this morning, Miriam. Hope Rhoda’s not under the weather.”
    She poured his coffee and refilled Tom Hostetler’s, as well, considering her reply.
     When the church elders heard why Rhoda wasn’t here, they might ask all manner of questions.
     And of course they would share their information with the bishop, Hiram Knepp. “Thanks
     for askin’,” Miriam replied breezily. “She’s tryin’ out a new job, takin’ care of
     an English gal who’s had a stroke—a lot like Doris Hilty and the Wagler sisters do,
     caretakin’ and housekeepin’,” she remarked.
    Hearing his name, Matthias Wagler glanced in their direction. “Rhoda’ll be right gut at that,” he remarked. “My sisters never seem to run out of places to work, once
     English folks get word of how dependable Amish women are.”
    Preacher Gabe, who nowadays looked older than his eighty-some years, bowed his head.
     “Gonna have to get a gal like that for my Wilma, most likely,” he murmured sadly.
     “Gettin’ so I can’t help her outta bed anymore.”
    Preacher Tom was following this topic with great interest. “I had an aunt who worked
     at that sort of job for years, cleanin’ mostly,” he said. “What with Rachel off collectin’
     wedding gifts, it sounds like the chicks are all flyin’ from your nest at the same
     time, Miriam.”
    “ Jah , you could say that. Can I get ya anything else?” When the bell jangled again, Miriam
     saw how flustered Hannah was looking as she seated the English couple who came in.
     Only two empty tables remained.
    “We’re fine, Miriam.” Tom gazed around the dining room. “Your café’s gettin’ busier
     all the time, like more folks are hearin’ about this place.”
    Miriam headed over to the table of eight from the senior center. Could it be that
     the website her other daughter had set up was already attracting more customers? Rebecca,
     raised English after she’d been lost downriver as a toddler, had caused quite a stir
     when she’d returned to Willow Ridge last summer. Her advanced schooling in computers
     and graphic design would probably increase traffic at a lot of Plain businesses in
     Willow Ridge.
    “And what can I get for you folks on this fine mornin’? Who’s ready to start?” she
     asked as she fetched an order pad from the front counter. Most of these seniors came
     here a couple of times a month to eat, and even though the menu choices hadn’t changed
     since the Sweet Seasons opened, they still took a long time to decide.
    Their driver, Connie, winked at Miriam. “It might take us a minute.”
    “Somebody’ll be back in a few, then. You folks take your time,” Miriam insisted. “Cold
     as it is today, the hens won’t lay your eggs until you’re gut and ready!”
    A few chuckles followed her into the kitchen, where Naomi was loading plates into
     the dishwasher—yet another task Rachel usually took care of. “Is it me, or are we
     chasin’ our tails and not catchin’ them this morning?” Miriam murmured.
    “ Jah , only eight o’clock,” Naomi replied, “and I’m cookin’ up a bunch more sausage to
     make