“He was met by the cheery-faced receptionist—the same young woman who’d offered her car’s side mirror for his horse. “We meet again,” she said, her eyes wide as he removed his black felt hat. “How may I help you?”“Name’s Solomon Kauffman,” he began. “I’d like to see Brandon Orringer.”She glanced at her computer monitor, then back at him. “Might this be for the purpose of building or land development?”Brandon’s also a builder now? He was surprised; he hadn’t heard this from Hen. Then again, she m...ight not have known. “Brandon’s my son-in-law,” Sol said, still holding his hat.“No kidding!” she burst out, then quickly softened. “Excuse me, sir . . . I had no idea.”“Quite all right.”“So . . . I don’t mean to pry, but is his wife also Amish?”He didn’t know exactly how to respond. “Well, she was raised that way but left . . . to marry Brandon.”The woman’s eyes rolled drolly, as if she fully understood. “Marry Amish to stay Amish, jah?”Sol was startled—that saying was used all the time by the bishops in the area.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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