The Amish Baker Page 5

  Silence stretched out between them, then he moved his gaze from her to the plate sitting before him.

  He took a bite of roll. “Not bad. Daed’s were better.”

  Jah, of course. To her bruder, she’d never bake or run the bakery as well as Daed had. Sarah straightened her back. The door opened and she rose. She gave Turner a quick smile.

  “Danki for stopping.” She called back over her shoulder. Her stomach turned queasy. He was telling her to do something she didn’t want to do. Now she knew how Mary Brenneman felt when Caleb wanted her to like the woman he brought home.

  Betrayed.

  The morning was exhausting. A long break at lunch improved her mood, but Sarah kept rehashing Turner’s words in her head. How could she convince her brother and the bishop that she and Caleb were just friends?

  She emptied the carafe, yanked the coffee-grounds’ basket out of its holder and spilled the wet grounds on the floor. What a mess!

  She wiped up the grounds, mopped the floor and brewed a fresh pot. When the doorbell jingled, a group of five women entered. They were tourists. It was obvious from the tour-guide pamphlets in their hands. Sarah held out a plate of sample cookies. “Welkum, would you like to try a cookie?” When a woman reached out to take one, she bumped the plate, sending it crashing to the floor and breaking to smithereens.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll be glad to pay for the plate.”

  “That’s not necessary. I break a lot of plates, too.” Sarah hurried and swept up the pieces.

  The woman purchased two loaves of bread, a cherry pie and two dozen of Sarah’s new lemon cookies, which she raved about after trying the sample.

  Ach, she must have felt guilty. She bought enough to pay for a dozen plates. “Danki for stopping by.”

  Ten minutes to closing, Sarah walked the last customer to the door and peeked out the window. Dark clouds bumped and gathered, slowly squeezing the light from the day. Thunder rumbled like the moan of creation and lightning sliced across the ominous sky.

  Streams of rain covered the window while the brooding sky churned and howled. Horses’ hooves sloshing through water pulled her gaze to the street in time to see a buggy skid to a stop in front of her shop. Nein. A stifled groan stuck in her throat.

  Bishop Yoder jumped out, dashed to the bakery and pushed the door open.

  “Gut afternoon, Sarah.” He removed his hat, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the water from his face.

  “Jah, the same to you. You couldn’t make it home before the storm broke loose?”

  “Nein, but I wanted to stop by and talk to you anyway. It’s almost closing, jah?”

  “I was getting ready to flip the sign over.”

  He turned to the door and flipped the card dangling from a string. “Done.”

  “Danki.” The pit of her stomach dropped.

  “Let’s have a seat and talk.” He swept his hand toward a table.

  Heat burned her cheeks as she pulled a chair out and sat. Averting her eyes from his face, she studied her clasped hands in her lap. Was Turner right? Was he here to discipline her? Wait. How did Turner know? As the oldest male of their family and the owner of the bakery, had the bishop talked to him first?

  She sensed the bishop’s stare. Nein, she hadn’t done anything wrong. After all, she had a business and needed to be civil to her customers. Even accepting an occasional dinner invitation to help heal a brokenhearted kind should be her right. She raised her eyes to meet the bishop’s stare.

  “Sarah, it has reached my ears that you visited a New Order man’s farm, unescorted.”

  “Bishop, have you heard the old saying? ‘Believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see.’”

  “Do not fraternize with him, or you could find yourself disciplined. Some of their beliefs and practices are not in accordance with our Ordnung.” His tone turned haughty. “Be careful, Sarah. Some think you need to confess.”

  “I’m not courting Caleb Brenneman. We are only friends. His sohn broke the bears that sat on the bakery’s counter and he worked in the bakery for his discipline. The bu is still mourning the death of his mamm and having a difficult time adjusting. Little Jacob took a shine to me, and they asked me to dinner to say danki. That’s all. I’ve done nothing shameful.”

  “As a young widow, you need a family of your own. Alvin Studer needs a wife and a mamm for his six kinner. It would be a good match for both of you.” Bishop Yoder set his elbows on the table and clasped his hands as if he were praying. “It’s not gut for a young woman to be by herself. You need an ehemann, jah?”

  She knew the direction he was heading. There would be no discipline if she married Alvin. It was unsaid, but it was there between the words.

  “Alvin is only a few years older than you.”

  “Twelve years.” She glared at the bishop.

  “And he would make you a gut spouse. Unlike Caleb Brenneman, Alvin is Old Order.”

  The rain burst from the sky in a torrential downpour. Sarah glanced out the window. Lord, please stop the rain so the bishop can go home. “I don’t liebe Alvin.”

  “After you’re married, liebe will come, I’m sure.” The bishop’s mouth was set in a firm line.

  A sliver of golden glow squeezed through the window blind. Sarah witnessed the sun peeking through the clouds. The rain had suddenly stopped. Danki, Lord. Sarah scooted her chair back and stood.

  “Danki for stopping by, Bishop Yoder, but I’ve stood on my feet all day and I’m tired. You have given me much to think about.” She strolled to the door and opened it for her guest.

  He nodded to Sarah on his way out the door. “Alvin needs to get married soon.” His deep, solemn tone grated on her ear.

  His piercing gaze tried to rip through her resolve and jab at her heart. Did he think she was going to give up the bakery to marry a man whom she didn’t liebe and take care of his six kinner?

  Sarah shoved the door closed, maybe a little too hard. The bishop glanced back over his shoulder. She locked the dead bolt, then swallowed a lump of frustration. She wadded up the bishop’s plan for her life into an imaginary ball and let it roll over her shoulder and down her back.

  A pan banging in the kitchen startled Sarah. She turned as Hannah appeared at the kitchen door.

  “Is he gone?” Hannah slowly moved into the front of the bakery.

  “Jah.”

  “I’m sorry. I overheard.”

  “I figured you had.”

  “What are you going to do?” Hannah wiped her hands across her apron.

  “He threatened to discipline me, but I’ve no intention of marrying Alvin Studer.”

  “I’m afraid you two are going to butt heads,” Hannah said, wearing a grave face.

  Sarah nodded. Lord God, what are You truly asking of me?

  * * *

  On Saturday Caleb pushed the Amish Sweet Delights door open and followed Jacob inside. Sarah glanced up from arranging pastries in the display case and tossed them a weak smile. Her eyes darted to the tables, then back at them as they approached the counter. Had he said something to offend her? This wasn’t her normal greeting.

  Jacob sprinted behind the counter and gave Sarah a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  She leaned down, patted his back and whispered, “Me, too, sweetie.” He ran back around the counter to start his hunt for the perfect treat.

  Caleb’s heart began to thump as he approached Sarah. “Gut mornin’. I’ll take a frosted cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee.”

  She nodded and smiled at him, but she had an air of coolness about her. The week was a long, busy one for him but daydreaming of seeing her today had gotten him through. Now she seemed disinterested or tired. His throat tightened. “Have you had a busy morning, Sarah?”

  She pulled a roll out of the display case, placed it on a p
late and pushed it across the counter toward him. She poured his coffee, handed it to him, leaned in and whispered, “At the corner table are the bishop and some Elders from my church. They’re watching me and wanted to know about our relationship. They don’t like that we’re friends.”

  “We will go,” he mouthed silently.

  Jacob chimed in. “I’ll have the cream-filled donut and milk, please.”

  “Good choice.” Sarah smiled at the bu. “They are especially gut today. Why don’t you get that empty table, and I’ll bring it over.” Jacob ran to the table and sat.

  As she arranged their order on a tray, she whispered to Caleb, “Nein. Jacob might say something if you just leave. I’ll refill coffee cups and talk a minute. Maybe you could leave after that.”

  He carried their treats to the table, sat and gave Jacob his plate. To the Englisch, the Plain communities were the same. But that wasn’t true. The Old Order had a problem with many of the conveniences that his New Order used, and his church believed in evangelizing. The Old Order communities didn’t agree with that kind of mingling. Caleb hadn’t thought living in such close proximity to the Old Order would make that much of a difference. And it wouldn’t have if it weren’t for his continued relationship with Sarah.

  Yet he enjoyed her company. They were friends. That’s all. Jacob adored her. Sarah had mended the bu’s heart, and he didn’t want to pull that stitching out.

  Sarah waited a few minutes before walking around with the coffee carafe. She stopped at the bishop’s table and refilled their cups. “I don’t often get Elders in here. I hope you enjoyed your coffee and rolls and will come back. Abraham, I remember you teasing me as a child when you stopped by to see Daed. It’s gut to see you in the bakery again.” Sarah’s voice carried and Caleb could overhear the conversation.

  “Jah, I remember those days. I miss coming here and visiting with your daed,” Abraham said fondly.

  “I miss those days, too,” Sarah agreed.

  She moved to the next table and gave a friendly smile. “Are you visiting Kalona?”

  The woman nodded.

  “Yep, we have our tour guide right here.” The man held up the newest Kalona tourist pamphlet.

  “I’ve seen that. It is a gut guide. There’s a lot to see. Be sure to stop by the artisan shop. It has many wunderbaar things. Have a gut day.” Sarah flashed them her best smile.

  She stopped at Caleb’s table. “I’m glad to see you, Jacob. Is your garden growing tall with all the rain this past week?”

  “Jah. Everything has come up, and we will soon have vegetables to eat. You should come out and see it.”

  Caleb could see her face redden.

  “Jah, maybe Hannah and I can visit soon. I enjoyed seeing you both, but I need to get back to the counter. Have a gut day.”

  She turned to leave, but Jacob started to ask Sarah something. “Nein, Jacob. We need to be on our way. Have a gut day, Sarah.”

  A loud bang came from the kitchen. Sarah set the pot on the counter and ran to the back. Caleb and Jacob jumped up and followed her to the kitchen.

  Hannah looked up, startled. “I’m sorry. The rack holding the pans came loose from the wall when I pulled a pan off. I hope I didn’t scare everyone.” Her voice quaked. Hannah bent and started to pick up the mess.

  Caleb and Jacob hurried to help clear the floor.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’re not hurt.” Sarah took some pans from Hannah and set them on the counter.

  Hannah stood and placed her hands on her waist. “I meant to tell Turner when he came in the next time that the rack was loose.”

  “You could have gotten hurt.” Caleb picked up a couple of pans and set them by the sink. “Let me know when something needs repair. It won’t take long. I can do it when I’m in town.”

  Caleb looked at Sarah. “I’ll fix the rack right now. Do you have a screwdriver and screws?”

  She pulled a toolbox from the closet. “This should have what you need.”

  He pulled the step stool over and got busy. Sarah watched the counter out front but stuck her head back in the kitchen to see how the work progressed.

  While Caleb rehung the rack, Jacob helped Hannah clean the floor of stuff that had spilled when the pans hit the stove and counter. Caleb was proud of the way Jacob had matured since he’d started helping at the bakery. It confirmed he’d made the right decision.

  After securing the rack to the wall, Caleb examined all the cupboard doors and shelves. He poked his nose into the pantry and checked the organizer.

  He stepped into the front of the bakery. “It’s fixed, Sarah.”

  She glanced back in the kitchen. “Wunderbaar.”

  “I noticed there are a couple of loose cupboard doors and wobbly shelves. I’ll come back another day when you’re not so busy and fix them.”

  “That sounds gut.”

  Caleb put the toolbox away, tidied up, and on their way out Sarah handed Jacob a sack of cookies. “Danki for all your work.”

  He and Jacob grabbed their hats and headed for the front door. Caleb faced the corner table and nodded. The bishop nodded back but the Elders stared at him with stony faces.

  The pit of his stomach flopped. It appeared they were determined not to lose one of their flock.

  As they headed to the buggy, Caleb heard low voices speaking behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with the bishop. Next to him walked the Elders. Were they planning to have a talk with him? Caleb stubbed his shoe on an uneven spot in the sidewalk and almost stumbled.

  Snowball was half a block down the street, and when the horse saw them, he shuffled his hooves around, ready to stretch his legs. As Caleb stepped into the buggy, he caught a glimpse of the men on the sidewalk. The bishop nodded as he passed. The Elders looked straight ahead as if they never saw them.

  Jah. He got the message. Loud and clear.

  Chapter Six

  Sarah placed her elbows close to the table’s edge, with her hands folded and propped under her chin. She couldn’t decide which she dreaded more. The Elders and Caleb seated in the bakery at the same time or leaving at the same time.

  Hannah pushed a steaming cup of cinnamon-spice coffee and a sticky maple-pecan roll in front of Sarah, and sat down opposite her. “You look like you’ve just given away your last kitten. Monday morning blahs?”

  “I’m still worrying about the bishop and the Elders following Caleb out of the bakery last Saturday. The bishop wouldn’t dare say anything to Caleb. Would he?”

  “He might. He doesn’t think the Plain community should have modern conveniences or be studying the Bible. To him, the Bible is for the church to interpret.”

  “What should I say to the bishop?”

  “Nothing. Caleb can take care of himself. Eat the roll. It’s delicious.”

  Sarah sniffed the gooey maple and toasted pecans smothering the yeast roll, then took a bite. “Mmm.” She smiled and nodded.

  “I knew you’d like it.”

  Sarah chewed and swallowed. “In some ways, I don’t fault the bishop.” She blotted her mouth with a napkin. “He’s trying to keep his community happy and together. It’s fine to introduce widows and widowers if they want someone to marry. I know Alvin wants a frau, but it’s not going to be me.” She took another bite of the roll.

  “Why don’t you ask Turner to talk to the bishop on your behalf?” Hannah suggested as she sipped her coffee.

  “It’s been three years since my ehemann died. I loved Samuel, but he had a take-charge attitude. I’ve enjoyed my independence and making my own decisions since he’s been gone. I’ve been satisfied working in the bakery. I would have liked kinner, but I have nein intention of leaving my bakery or my faith.”

  “At least you were married. I can’t even say that. It’s a wonder Bishop Yoder isn’t asking me to marry Alvin
instead of you.” Hannah dunked her pastry in her coffee. “Of course, if I’d quit eating these...” She chuckled and held up her roll. “I could probably snag a man, but I do love to eat and don’t mind wearing a larger size.”

  Sarah settled back in her chair. “I don’t love Alvin and don’t want a man that hits his frau. Caleb is New Order, and I can’t marry him or I’ll be shunned.”

  “You need an ehemann to share your life. And maybe you could have kinner with another man. Who knows?” Hannah shrugged.

  “If that happened, I would feel like I betrayed Samuel.”

  “Don’t say that. Samuel would want you to be happy.” Hannah took the last bite of her roll.

  Sarah wiped her hands on a napkin. “Besides, I enjoy the bakery. I don’t know what I’d do without it. Caleb’s only been a widower for a year. I’m not sure he wants a permanent relationship.”

  The doorbell rang and Sarah pushed her problem with the bishop to the back of her mind as she walked to the counter. Hannah shot her a smile as she cleared the table and scampered back to the kitchen.

  Catching the door as the customer left, Caleb skirted around her and entered. His face drawn, lines covered his forehead, his eyes rimmed in red with dark circles below them.

  Sarah rushed around the counter and motioned him toward a table. She set a cinnamon roll and coffee in front of him. “What’s wrong, Caleb?” Sarah patted his shoulder and sat beside him.

  “My bruder got hurt Saturday. I’ve been at the hospital ever since I heard. He’s in the ICU in Iowa City. A drunk driver in an SUV hit his buggy. Peter has internal bleeding, broken bones, head injuries and he’s in a coma.” Caleb took a deep breath. “The kinner and I were there all day yesterday and last night. They were tired and bored, so I brought them home. I have a favor to ask, Sarah. If you can’t or don’t want to do it, I’ll understand. But I was wondering if you could come to the farm today and stay with the kinner while I go back to the hospital.”

  “Sure, we’re only open until noon on Mondays. Hannah can close up.”

  “Glad to do it.” Hannah said as she walked toward the table.