have anything suitable for Amish children?â
âWe sure do. I have an illustrated nonfiction on beginning beekeeping and another about raising sheep. I made sure George remembered. No make-believe and no talking animals.â
âSuper,â Rachel agreed. âNonfiction or stories about childrenâs lives in other countries are always welcome. So long as thereâs no violence.â Rachel glanced around the gymnasium. âThere are more people here than I thought there would be on a Monday morning.â
âTell me about it. Lots of locals, but a lot of unfamiliar faces, too. I thought after what happened to poor Mr. Billingsly that visitors might stay away from the town, but it seems to be just the opposite. Iâve talked to several people who werenât here for the weekend festivities, but came today after reading about the murder in their morning paper.â
âIâm not sure if I should say Iâm glad to hear it or not.â Rachel grimaced. âI mean Iâm glad people are comingââ
âBut not exactly how we wanted to get word out,â Ell finished for her.
A browser picked up a book off one of the tables and held it up. âIâm looking for something by this author on Amish quilts,â the woman said to Ell.
âI think I have exactly what youâre looking for, but itâs back at the main store. I can call the desk and ask one of the girls to bring it over, if youâd like.â Ell smiled at the customer. âTalk to you later,â she said quickly to Rachel.
âNo problem. Iâm just going to leave my coat here with you, if you donât mind. Iâll be back for it.â
âOf course.â
Ell took her coat and Rachel moved on. At Coyoteâs pottery booth, she found Blade with Remi and two small, very blond daughters. Remi had a real stethoscope hanging around his neck, and the girls were taking turns pushing a doll carriage with a stuffed monkey in it.
âIâm the pediatrician,â Remi declared. He rolled his eyes. âMama said I have to be nice to them until she comes back. The baby needs his shots.â
âRemi is the doctor,â one girl proclaimed.
The stuffed monkey was wearing a pink baby hat and infant sleeper. One of the girls nodded and patted the monkeyâs head in sympathy.
âYouâre holding down the fort again?â Rachel asked Blade.
âItâs what I do.â He opened his arms wide and grinned. âBut Coyote should be back any minute. Some lady from Harrisburg wanted to take some of Coyoteâs pieces on consignment. The two them went to the studio to see what the woman might be interested in selling, but theyâve been gone a while.â He motioned toward an empty space on a table. âWe sold that green pitcher you liked this morning.â
âGreat,â Rachel said.
He smoothed the hair of his long ponytail. âI heard congratulations are in order. You and Evan Parks?â
âYes.â She gave him a quick smile. âThank you.â
From behind the counter came the wail of an infant. Rachel hadnât even noticed him there.
âAnd another country heard from,â Blade quipped.
The baby was swaddled in blankets in a large woven basket behind the display table. Blade fumbled in the front pocket of his flannel shirt and fished out a pacifier. He squatted down and popped it in the babyâs mouth. He grinned at Rachel. âWorks every time. Whoever invented those things, she should have gotten a Nobel Peace Prize.â
Rachel smiled and turned to watch as one of the girls pushed the carriage forward, nearly colliding with a lady in a black peacoat and a fur hat.
âEasy there, Shoshone,â Blade warned. But he hadnât spoken soon enough. The carriage tipped over, and the stuffed monkey slid out.
Shoshoneâs sister snatched up the baby and ran with it, and Shoshone scrambled after her.
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