The Amish Baker Page 2

  “Have you made a selection yet, Alvin?”

  He stepped to the counter and gave her a smile while his eyes roved over her. “A loaf of cinnamon-raisin bread.” He hesitated. “Would you like to go for a buggy ride with me Saturday night, Sarah?”

  Stunned, she stepped back. She didn’t want to go for a ride with Alvin, or any other man. She had her life. It was comfortable, and she liked things as they were. But with Alvin, she’d heard he had hit his last frau, so the answer was an emphatic nein. Yet the idea of courting anyone who wasn’t Samuel frightened her.

  How should she answer Alvin? She hated to be rude, though she wanted no misunderstanding in how she felt. “Danki, Alvin, but my shop requires all my time. When I’m not out front, I’m in the back, baking. I have no free time to squeeze in a buggy ride. Sorry, but that’s the life of a baker.”

  His eyes turned dark and mean. His expression hinted that he wanted to say something but didn’t.

  She drew in a ragged breath. Her hands fumbled as she plucked the bread from the shelf, almost dropping it. She shoved the loaf in a sack and set it on the counter. “Danki, Alvin.”

  He stared at her. The doorbell jingled twice as the stout Bertha Bontrager bumped the door with her hip as she entered. Alvin didn’t flinch at the noise.

  Sarah blew out the breath she was holding. “Afternoon, Bertha. What can I do for you today?”

  “The bishop said you’d be receptive to my invitation,” Alvin whispered as he tossed Sarah a cold look and laid a five-dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change. I’ll see you next time.” He grabbed his sack and stomped out the door.

  Sarah was stunned and winced as a shiver ran up her spine.

  * * *

  Sarah took advantage of the lull in business after the lunch hour and wiped down the counter. The door opened and Hannah whooshed in like a butterfly.

  “Hullo. Sorry I’m late. My appointment took longer than I thought it would.”

  “Don’t worry. I managed just fine.”

  Hannah hurried to the sink and washed her hands while Sarah loaded a tray with cookies. “Have you baked the afternoon order yet?”

  “Nein. I’ve been too busy.”

  Hannah disappeared through the kitchen doorway. “I’ll start it.”

  After the bell tinkled, a cool breeze swept over Sarah. She glanced up from cleaning the display case and froze as Bishop Yoder approached the counter.

  “Do you have a cup of coffee and a slice of banana bread left? I’d like to sit and rest a spell.”

  “Jah, but it’s the last cup of coffee in the pot so it’s free. Sit. I’ll bring it to the table.”

  Her stomach roiled at the bishop’s presence. She poured the strong brew and laid a slice of banana bread on a plate. She drew a deep breath. He very seldom came into her bakery. His frau was one of the best cooks in the community. She carried a tray with his coffee and banana bread to the table and set it down in front of him. “Enjoy, Bishop Yoder.”

  “Danki, Sarah. Please sit and join me.”

  Her feet itched to move away. “Only for a minute—I have to start cleaning the display case for closing.”

  “This will only take a minute.” He took a bite of the banana bread, then a sip of coffee. “This bread is very gut.”

  She pulled a wooden chair away from the table and sat.

  “I believe Alvin Studer came into the bakery and asked you to join him for a buggy ride. He is a gut man and his six kinner need a mamm.”

  A shiver ran up her spine as she averted her eyes from the bishop’s face. “Jah. He did ask. I was busy and didn’t have time to talk with him.” It was only a little white lie.

  “Sarah, it’s Gott’s will that you remarry. Each person in our church must lose the desire for self and think of the community. That is what we believe. Jah, it’s time for you to sell the bakery. It’s Satan’s lie that makes you think that a career outside the home is fulfilling. Alvin needs a frau and mamm for his kinner.” His eyes pierced hers like the tiny, sharp point on a straight pin.

  The bishop was matchmaking her!

  Chapter Two

  Plop...plop.

  Caleb stopped and listened.

  Plop. The sound cut through the still afternoon. He turned his head in the direction of the pond but couldn’t see past the grove of maple trees. Maybe an animal skittered over the water. He trained his concentration back to the job at hand.

  Plop...plop.

  Caleb listened. Jah, definitely coming from the pond. Surely Jacob hadn’t skipped school again to go fishing.

  He laid his fence-mending tools on the ground and raced across the field. His long strides carried him quickly to the shade of the trees. Scanning the perimeter of the pond, his eyes came to rest on his six-year-old sohn reclining on the grass.

  Caleb walked to within ten feet of the bu. “Jacob, what are you doing?”

  Jacob sprang to his feet, almost losing his balance as he teetered on the edge of the pond. He stepped back and whirled around. “I’m th-throwing r-rocks in the water.” His head hung, but his brooding gray eyes peered up.

  “Again, you skipped school. Are your chores done?” Caleb’s intent gaze froze Jacob to the spot.

  Jacob shrugged his shoulders. “Nein.”

  “Work on the farm takes priority over playing.” Caleb furrowed his brow. “You know chores always come first. Milk cows need to maintain a strict schedule.”

  “I-I’m sorry,” Jacob whispered, almost too low for Caleb to hear.

  “What has gotten into you?”

  Jacob shrugged again with a blank face.

  “Go and unhook the gate and let it swing open so the cows can come in from the pasture for milking. Then feed the chickens. After chores, go to the house and get on your knees and ask Gott to forgive your laziness.” Caleb turned and walked back to the fence but glanced over his shoulder to make sure Jacob headed toward the barnyard. Caleb shook his head as he watched the bu kick a stone in his path.

  “Jacob, don’t take your anger out on the earth. Anger is a sinful thing. In prayer today, tell the Lord your transgression. Go, sit in silence and talk to Him about what you have done. We’ll discuss an extra chore for your punishment.”

  Caleb watched as Jacob trudged to the barnyard with his shoulders slumped. He would leave the bu alone for a while to think about what he’d done.

  His wife’s death had been hardest on his sohn. Jacob had cried for hours after the cancer took his mamm. Martha’s caring ways had woven a strong bond between her and the bu.

  Caleb returned to the pasture. Holding a piece of wire fencing, he stretched it tight around the wood post, pulled the hammer out of his belt and drove a staple over the wire to secure it. He walked down the fence line, found another piece of loose fencing and fixed it. Mr. Warner, on the farm next door, didn’t much care for Caleb’s cows trampling down his corn.

  He took a step back, removed his hat and wiped trickles of perspiration from his brow while he surveyed the work. After smacking the hat against his thigh to remove dust and moisture from it, he plopped it back on.

  For a small bu, Jacob gave Caleb more problems than this old fence. Jacob, Jacob, Jacob, how do I get through to you?

  He looked up toward heaven. Lord, what do I do with him?

  Caleb had consulted the bishop about Jacob’s sadness after his mamm had died. “Time will cover the wound,” the bishop had said, “like a healing salve.”

  Martha had passed over a year ago, but the salve hadn’t eased Jacob’s pain. At least, not yet.

  Like Jacob, Caleb had thought about Martha a lot at first. He’d missed her terribly. Yet ever since the encounter with the pretty baker, he couldn’t erase the memory of Sarah’s smile, her chocolate-brown hair or those cinnamon-brown eyes. They started pushing the memories of Martha into a secret spot in his
mind. Was it right to let new memories replace those he had of Martha? He touched his hand to his stomach, where Sarah’s nearness had stirred him. For sure and for certain, she was an attractive woman.

  Was it too soon to remarry? Jah, his kinner needed a mamm, but a woman as nice-looking as Sarah must have an ehemann. Guilt prickled the back of his neck, and he shook Sarah’s image from his mind.

  He grabbed his fence-mending tools, carted them back to the barn and hung each one on a hook. Then he pulled off his gloves, straightened them out and laid them flat on the bench. When he walked past the milking floor, he saw that Mary had already led the Holsteins to the stanchions and had started applying the iodine mixture to the cows’ udders. Jacob sat off to the side, watching and learning. Caleb smiled. In a couple of years, the bu could take over that chore.

  It’d be nice to have his sohn work alongside him. Someday, Jacob would own the farm, unless Caleb remarried and had another sohn. Then the youngest bu would inherit the farm, according to Amish custom, and he’d give his older bu, Jacob, money to start his own business. Mary would find some young bu to marry, and he’d have his own farm or business to take care of Mary and their family.

  Caleb followed Mary and wiped the cow’s udders with an alcohol wipe. When he was finished with the disinfecting, he attached the vacuum line and started the milking process.

  Glancing at Jacob sitting quietly and wearing a sorrowful face, Caleb racked his brain for a way to help the bu deal with grieving and his feelings of emptiness and loneliness. Sometimes he wished Jacob were more like Mary.

  At thirteen, she was strong willed and self-sufficient. From an early age, Mary did for herself. Her independent way seemed to help her deal with her mother’s death and grieving the loss.

  Jah, for sure and for certain, Gott had blessed Mary with a tenacious personality and a thriving business making jellies, candies and crafts the Englisch liked.

  Nein. Jacob wasn’t as tough as Mary. He was the sensitive one.

  Caleb had a surprise for Jacob tomorrow. One that just might ease his pain for at least a little while.

  * * *

  Caleb settled on the seat and watched his sohn mosey toward the buggy. Jacob climbed in and plopped down beside his daed. Caleb shook the reins. “Giddyap, Snowball.”

  “Why do we have to go to Kalona, Daed?” His lips set in a pout.

  “We are going to drop off some of Mary’s pillow covers, pot holders and boppli blankets at a consignment shop.”

  “Why can’t Mary go instead of me?”

  “She is busy with the housework, cooking, laundry and making things to sell.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  Caleb looked at the bu a moment, trying to figure out what would make Jacob happy. Most kinner would enjoy a trip to town. “You will go and help. Not another word about it.”

  A few minutes later, he glanced at his sohn. Jacob held his back straight as a stick, staring straight ahead. What could he possibly do for the bu to take the stiffness and hurt out of his heart?

  Caleb gave up on conversation and instead rubbernecked at his neighbors’ fields the whole three miles to Kalona. Jah, his fields looked as gut as these.

  Their errands didn’t take long, as Snowball trotted them around town. Caleb hadn’t eaten much for breakfast, so a roll and cup of coffee would sure be gut right about now. He stopped the buggy one shop down from the bakery.

  “Where are we going now?” Jacob looked from one side of the street to the other.

  “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.” Caleb walked beside Jacob and ushered him to the Amish Sweet Delights bakery, opened the door and motioned for Jacob to enter. As his sohn passed, Caleb detected a trace of a smile.

  Caleb leaned down by Jacob’s ear and whispered, “You can order anything in the case. Ask for a glass of milk, too. We’ll sit a minute and refresh ourselves.”

  Two customers stood in front of them. The man at the counter was an Englischer, clean-shaven and wearing brown trousers and a matching shirt—the same kind of clothing that Caleb had seen on deliverymen. His stomach tightened as he overheard the man tell Sarah how nice she looked today.

  She didn’t appear to hear him. “Who’s next?”

  The woman in front of Caleb took her turn at the counter. The bakery door behind Caleb opened, and two young Amish buwe, Noah and Matthew, entered and stood in line behind them. The buwe tapped Jacob on the shoulders, letting him know they were back there. They talked and laughed, trying to coax Jacob into a conversation.

  The woman in front paid, picked up her sack and left.

  “We’re next, Jacob.” Caleb stepped forward as the buwe joked and teased Jacob about a girl in school. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Jacob, it is our turn to order.”

  “Nein, I don’t like her.” Jacob spouted the words at his friend and gave Matthew a shove. Jacob whirled back around, stepped on a broken cookie or something on the floor and lunged forward. His arms flung out as he slid across the counter, hitting the walnut bears and sending them sailing through the air. They banged on a table, bounced off and smashed against the wall.

  Jacob’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped as he stumbled back away from the counter. Caleb caught him and steadied Jacob until he regained his balance.

  Everyone at the tables stopped talking and stared at the commotion. The men at the table where the broken bears lay shoved their chairs away from the pieces.

  Stunned, Caleb wasn’t sure what to do. He looked from the bears to Sarah. She shrieked and ran to retrieve the fragments. Tears clouded her eyes, threatening to spill over as she hugged the pieces to her chest and walked back to the counter.

  Caleb placed a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “Jacob, you have broken them.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  Sarah laid the pieces behind the counter, straightened and looked at Jacob. “I know you didn’t. They shouldn’t have sat there. It’s my fault.”

  Caleb removed his wide-brimmed straw hat from his head. “Sarah, I can take the pieces and make you a new set. They won’t match exactly, but it’ll be close and most won’t tell the difference.”

  She swallowed hard and shook her head. “No, that’s not necessary. It wouldn’t be quite the same. These were the last things my husband made me before he passed away.” Her voice caught in her throat.

  Caleb glanced over his shoulder at every pair of eyes in the bakery boring a hole through his back. His cheeks burned, and he sucked in a deep breath. “Jacob must pay for the damage he caused.”

  “Nein, Caleb, it’s not necessary.” She placed an index finger at the corner of her eye and blotted a tear that had escaped.

  “Jacob will be here early Saturday morning to help you in the shop. He can clean the tables, the chairs and the floor, and help fetch supplies. Whatever you need him to do, for as long as you need him, until he pays off the debt. He must make amends.”

  * * *

  Sarah looked at Jacob, a small-framed bu, maybe six or seven years old, with a tuft of blond hair poking out from under his hat. “Do you want to help me?” she asked, softening her voice.

  He nodded. His sulking brown eyes resembled those of a scolded puppy and tugged at the edges of her heart.

  “Gut. I’d appreciate that.” She let a smile pluck at the corners of her mouth.

  “We’ll take three cinnamon rolls to go, please.” Caleb plopped his hat on his head. “Again, we are very sorry.” The red flush in his cheeks deepened, but Sarah pretended not to notice.

  Sarah handed the order to him over the counter. Caleb’s hand glided over hers as he grasped the sack, sending an unexpected rush through her. The warmth jabbed at her heart as though a tiny arrow had pierced it. She jerked back in response. She hadn’t felt the touch of a man’s hand in a long time.

  The sensation had startled her. Or maybe
it was her reaction that had startled her.

  She’d enjoy getting to know Jacob and most assuredly his papa, too.

  Chapter Three

  The scent of lilacs and freshly cut grass saturated the morning breeze. Caleb inhaled a deep whiff and watched as Jacob climbed into the buggy and sat next to him. Jacob’s face looked like that of a shunned man. “Jacob, doing a little work to repay a debt can’t be as bad as all that.”

  Jacob shrugged.

  Caleb shook the reins. “Giddyap, Snowball.” The horse trotted down the drive, past the vegetable garden and out the gate between the white picket fences surrounding the barnyard. Snowball turned right toward Kalona without any coaxing.

  “Please be helpful to Sarah.” Caleb flashed his warning face at Jacob.

  He nodded. “I will. How long do I have to stay and help her?”

  Jacob looked deep in thought, worrying his bottom lip. Caleb regretted his prior words. He knew the bu wanted to make amends.

  At times Jacob seemed to have a rebellious nature, but Caleb had to trust his sohn. “We’ll see how much work she has for you to do. Maybe a couple of hours. You can let me know if you get tired.”

  “Okay.”

  “But you understand why you must help her, jah?”

  Jacob put a hand up to shade the sun from his eyes. “I’m working to pay for the cost of the bears I broke.”

  “Not just that, but the pain and suffering you have caused her. They were the last gift her ehemann had given her before he died. Now they’re broken. Your helping is just a respectful way of saying you’re sorry.”

  “I’m really sorry I did that.”

  “I know you are.”

  They rode in silence but Caleb sensed something different about Jacob. His voice wasn’t as cold and distant as it was when they had driven to Kalona last week. He had an obligation now to a very nice woman, and it appeared he accepted the responsibility.

  * * *

  Glancing at the chaos in the bakery’s kitchen—containers covering the table, sugar spilled on the counter and pans strewn about—Sarah felt daunted by the mess before her. She brushed the flour from her hands as she checked the time... Running late. Why had she given Hannah the day off? The special order, along with her regular baking, swamped her with work.