Caleb introduced Sarah and Hannah to his bruder, Peter, and his frau, Lillia. They greeted each other.
Mary’s eyes glowed when Sarah uncovered the cake. A two-layer cake covered in frosting with strawberries and whipped cream on top.
“It’s a wunderbaar cake and looks delicious,” Mary gasped. “Danki.”
Lillia agreed. “Looks gut.”
Caleb smiled at Sarah and gave her a wink. “Let’s set the table, and I’ll get the ice cream. Sit, Mary. It’s your birthday. We’ll handle this.”
“I want a big piece.” Jacob scooted out a chair and plunked himself down.
“Of course, and I hope you try one of my mints, too.” Hannah held the plate out to Jacob, smiled and nodded toward the mints.
He took a red one. “Mmm. That tastes like strawberries.”
When they finished eating, Sarah pulled Mary’s gift out of her bag. “Mary, this is for you. I took some of the scraps left over from your mamm’s leaf quilts and made a Bible cover and sewed one of her leaves on top.”
Mary gasped and her face turned red. “You had no right! You took them without permission! How could you? I had plans for those scraps.” She raked the legs of her chair back over the flooring as she stood, then ran out of the house, letting the screen door bang behind her.
“Daed, tell Mary she can’t slam the door.”
“Mind your business, Jacob. It’s not your job to worry about Mary’s actions.”
“Jacob, I’ve heard a lot about Tiger and her kittens. Could I see them?” Hannah popped a mint in her mouth and stood.
He nodded, jumped off the chair and headed for the door. “You’re going to liebe them. If you want one, I’ll give it to you.”
“Jacob,” Caleb said stiffly.
“Okay. You don’t have to take one.” Hannah followed Jacob out the door.
“We must be going, bruder. Tell the kinner we had to leave.” Peter patted Caleb on the back. “It was nice to meet you, Sarah.”
Lillia gave Sarah a smile. “Don’t worry, Sarah. Mary will get over it.”
When the door closed, Sarah turned toward Caleb. “I’m so sorry, Caleb. They were scraps. I’d nein idea how badly it would hurt Mary. I thought she would like it.”
“I’ll talk to Mary. It was a shock. If you hadn’t told her where they came from, it would have been a year before she noticed. She was very close to her mamm, and it hit a sensitive spot.” He glanced at the door Mary had slammed. A line of worry etched across his forehead.
“I hope she doesn’t think I was trying to steal the position that her mamm holds in her heart. That wasn’t my intention.”
“She’ll get over it.” Caleb’s soothing voice wrapped around her like a hug.
Sarah stepped back. Her mouth was like a desert and all her words had dried up. She’d messed up badly.
Mary would never forgive her.
* * *
The next day, Sarah coaxed King into a faster trot as the buggy neared Caleb’s farm. Drizzle changed to light rain when she turned into his drive. The wind kicked up, blowing dirt out of the fields and filling the air with a wet, muddy smell. The sky darkened with black clouds tumbling and rolling overhead. She tugged on the reins. “Whoa, King.”
Caleb ran from the house and helped her down. “Go on in, and I’ll put King in the barn.”
She hurried up the steps and waited on the porch. She removed her cape and shook off the moisture, wishing it were that easy to shake away the mistake she’d made by taking Martha’s scraps of material.
Caleb jumped the porch steps two at a time. “What brings you out here on a messy day like this?”
“I couldn’t sleep a wink last night. I’m still fretting over how I hurt Mary. I saw the basket of scraps and thought she’d like the cover if it reminded her of her mamm. My heart is still aching over that stupid mistake.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Sarah. She needs a little time to think about it. Mary would rather cook and clean than sew. I think she left the scraps sitting in the living room because they reminded her of her mamm, and she didn’t know what else to do with them. You did nothing wrong. Someday, Mary will treasure what you did for her, but maybe not today.” He shrugged.
“We talked a little when we canned, and it sounded like she was getting through grieving her mamm. I thought it’d be okay, but I should have asked. Can I talk to her?”
“She’s in the kitchen.” Caleb smiled and held the door open.
Sarah walked in slowly, as though she were a child going to the teacher for a scolding. She crossed the large room and stood by the table, propping her hip against it for support. Mary remained at the stove, cooking something that smelled like chicken and dumplings. If she heard her enter, she never acknowledged Sarah’s presence.
“Hullo, Mary. I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am. If you want, I can pull the stitching from the cover and put the scraps back.”
“That’s not necessary. I thought maybe one day I’d think of something to do with them, but it’s a nice cover.” Mary remained facing the stove.
“When you’re ready to can vegetables again, I’ll be more than happy to help.”
“Danki for the offer.” Mary kept her back toward Sarah.
One thing was for sure and for certain.
Mary would never forgive her.
Chapter Thirteen
After the next preaching, Sarah hurried to disappear from Bishop Yoder’s sight. She kept a brisk pace, turned the corner and headed for the door.
“Sarah.” His footsteps thumped closer with each stride.
The thought of surrender had never occurred to her before, but his persistence had worn her down. She frowned, then stopped and turned around. “Bishop, did you call my name?”
“Jah. And after I did, it looked like your step had a livelier spring to it toward the door.”
“Sorry. Thoughts preoccupied my mind. What did you need to see me about?”
“Do you know Ezra Smith?”
Exasperation sent a chill charging through her, but she shook it off. “I’ve seen him, but I don’t really know him.”
“He is a widower with two small kinner, and he’d like to meet you. How about tomorrow?” His rigid stance spoke volumes.
“Nein, Monday is not good. Tuesday is better.” She started easing toward the door.
“He’ll stop by the bakery, and perhaps he’ll ask you on a buggy ride.”
Sarah glanced over the bishop’s right shoulder and noticed others gawking and seemingly edging in their direction. “I’ll bake something special and look forward to meeting him.”
The bishop’s mouth practically hit the floor in surprise. Then he cleared his throat. “Have an enjoyable day.”
“You, too, Bishop.” She headed to her buggy, where Hannah waited, wearing a smile.
“What was that all about?”
“I think the bishop and I might have come to some kind of an understanding, although he doesn’t know it yet.”
Hannah raised a brow. “What does that mean?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
* * *
Sarah guided her buggy up Caleb’s driveway. The crunching of gravel under the wheels appeared to snag Caleb’s attention from watering his garden. He dropped the hose and hurried to meet her.
“Gut mornin’. You’re here early.” His smile warmed her heart.
“Jah. Is Mary ready to can tomatoes?”
“They are already in a hot-water bath.” He gave King a pat.
“Ach. I’m late. Canning is an all-day ordeal, so I’d better get to it.” She handed him the sack of bread and cookies she had brought, latched on to his offered arm and stepped to the ground. “There’s a basket with potato salad and fried chicken on the floor of the buggy. Please bring it in.”
�
��Danki for helping Mary.” His words tangled in the sounds of her grabbing the sack and running for the house.
Sweltering heat hit Sarah in the face as she entered the kitchen, and the smell of cooking tomatoes permeated the air. She sat her sack on the table and then stood next to Mary at the stove. Plumes of steam rose from the kettles of simmering fruit. The breeze streaming through the open window did little to cool the room.
Caleb set the basket in the propane-powered refrigerator and tossed Sarah a smile on his way out the door.
“Mornin’, Mary. I’m ready to work.”
“Mornin’. Sure you want to? It’s really hot in here.” Mary grabbed the towel slung over her shoulder and wiped the dripping perspiration from her face.
“Jah.” Sarah pushed up her sleeves, grabbed a spoon and started packing the mason jars Mary had already washed and sterilized.
She’d worked nearly an hour, and Mary hadn’t said two words to her except what the work required. Guilt inched up Sarah’s spine. It was crystal clear. Mary would never forgive her for taking the fabric scraps and making the book cover.
Beads of sweat rolled down Sarah’s back. She walked to the window and stood in front of the breeze for several minutes.
Mary looked at her and smiled. “Hot?”
“Jah.”
“Me, too.”
At four o’clock, the jars filled, Sarah helped Mary clean the kitchen. “I’m exhausted.” She tidied her dress, wiped off splatters, and washed her face and hands. “Let me know when more tomatoes are ready to can.”
“Danki for your help.” Mary’s no-nonsense attitude made it plain she’d tolerate her presence, but she’d no longer confide in her.
Sarah pulled her potato salad and chicken out of the refrigerator and placed them on the table next to Mary’s marinated, sliced red tomatoes and a loaf of bread. While she set the plates and silverware on the table, Mary rang the dinner bell.
Judging from the silence at the table and the small amount of food on the plates, it was too uncomfortable to eat in a sweltering-hot kitchen. Jacob picked at his chicken and barely touched his potato salad. “Jacob, do you like the dinner?”
“I’m too hot to eat. Since you canned tomatoes with Mary, can you help me with the garden?” Jacob puffed out his lower lip. “You never help me.”
“Jacob.” Caleb’s firm tone held a warning.
Jacob kicked the chair. “It’s not fair! She never comes to help me anymore!” He jumped off the chair and ran out the kitchen’s screen door, letting it bang twice before it shut.
“Jacob, get back here,” Caleb bellowed. Jacob sidled up to the door. “Apologize to Sarah right now.”
His chin almost touched his chest, but his brooding gray eyes peered up. “I’m sorry, Sarah.” He ran down the porch steps and headed across the lawn.
Sarah followed him out the door. Jacob was right. She’d spent a lot of time with Mary, but she couldn’t spend much more time at Caleb’s farm or someone would find out and tell the bishop. “Jacob, wait.”
“That’s okay.” But his shaky voice told her it wasn’t.
* * *
Caleb laid a warm and soothing hand on her shoulder. “He’ll get over it. We’ll think of some way you can spend time with him.” He winked. “I’ll hitch King up for you.”
Sarah blew out a heavy breath. “Tell Jacob I’ll help him next time.”
As he tightened the girth around King, a worry hovered in the back of his mind. Eventually the bishop would hear of her visits to his farm. Nein, they had to think of other ways to spend time together, and Sarah would have to quit helping Mary.
Caleb waited in the driveway with the buggy.
Her steps were slow but sure to where he waited. He took her basket and set it on the seat. “You look tired.”
“Jah. The heat and the canning sapped my energy.” A moment of silence settled between them as they watched a few robins scamper around, looking for their supper.
“I’ll stop by one day this week.” He backed away from the buggy.
“That’ll be nice.” The breeze picked up and snapped the tie strings to her prayer kapp. “Sure, now the wind blows, when we’re done canning.”
Caleb laughed. “Sounds like you think the breeze schemed against you and Mary while you canned.”
She chuckled. “I didn’t mean it quite like that.” Sarah stepped into the buggy. “Caleb, I have something I need to tell you. Because of the incident with Alvin, I need to explain so there’s no misunderstanding.” Sarah let her gaze fall on his shirt. She lifted her chin and her eyes clouded with a mist.
“What’s up?” Uneasiness tugged at his nerves. Was something said when he left the kitchen?
“The bishop donned his matchmaking hat again. He wants me to spend time with Ezra Smith. He is a widower with two kinner. I have no desire to marry him, but I wanted to show the bishop that I believe in supporting my community.”
The smile slid from his face. His heart dropped to his feet. He froze. He stared at her. Gott, You took away Martha and now You’re taking away Sarah.
“I must trust Gott to guide my heart and my head, but know that this is only to appease the bishop.”
He fought to find his voice. “Jah, I understand.” His voice cracked. “It’s hard when your religion is based on community. You must decide what is right for you, but I will miss your company.”
“Please let me know when Mary is ready to do more canning. She’s still young and should have help with such things.”
“Danki for your thoughtfulness, Sarah.”
He held out his hand to her. She grasped it and squeezed. When he took it away, it was as if a cool breeze had swept over his heart. He would miss her warm touch.
Caleb watched as Sarah’s buggy drove away, kicking up dust that swirled around and drifted away. His chest ached as if she’d torn his heart out, wadded it up and tossed it into that dust cloud. He gulped a deep breath of air. The strength drained from his body. He tried to take a step, but couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she was out of sight. It was silly the way his insides did somersaults whenever she was near and felt like a hollowed-out log when she left.
Jah, he needed to get a moment alone with Sarah and ask her if she would change to the New Order. Then he’d know what to do next.
The first of July, but he felt like it was January in Iowa and it was twenty below zero.
* * *
Sarah rose early to get a head start on baking. She paused for a moment to review Thursday’s list. Yesterday, for the first time, the bakery had sold out of baked goods. She mixed up the yeast rolls, increased the recipe to make three dozen more, covered the bowl and set it aside.
Footfalls across the bakery shop’s floor soon found their way to the kitchen. Hannah plopped her hip against the table. “I was practically up all night, helping Mamm and Daed pack for their trip to Missouri. Thanks for starting the baking on your own. I’ll work hard to make up for being late.”
“Gut.” Sarah pointed at the list. “You can bake the cookies. I promised the bishop to make something special for Ezra’s visit.” Hannah nodded and headed to her work area.
Sarah mentally reviewed the recipes while she loaded her arms with the ingredients to make apple fritters and an apple strudel. Men had a hard time resisting fritters and strudel. She dumped it all on her workspace, then fetched the ten-pound bag of apples and set it on the sink.
While Hannah started the cookies, Sarah peeled, cored and diced apples. She stirred up the strudel, added part of the apples and popped it in the oven. She made the fritter batter with the remaining apples. After grabbing a pan from the rack, she heated the oil and dropped the fritters in until they were golden brown. After they cooled, she drizzled a glaze over top.
Midmorning, the bakery door opened and Ezra Smith timidly entered and gave her a shy nod. He wander
ed casually in front of the display case as if trying to make a decision, and every so often glanced her way.
She smiled at his attempt to make this visit look casual. “Gut mornin’, Ezra. Welkum.”
Hannah peeked around the doorway but disappeared back into the kitchen.
“It all looks gut, but I will take an apple fritter and a cup of coffee.” He paused. “And two of the chocolate-frosted cake donuts to take home.”
Sarah handed him the sack of donuts. She placed a fritter on a plate and a sugar cookie on another, poured two cups of coffee, and set it all on a tray. She led the way to a table and set her coffee and cookie across from him. “I’ll keep you company, if you don’t mind.”
Ezra pulled out a chair for her and one for him. He slid his hat on the empty seat nearby.
Sarah sipped her coffee and settled back in the chair. Ezra had a handsome face with a wide jaw, but it gave him character. His sandy-colored hair looked gut with his sun-bronzed face.
“This is a delicious fritter, Sarah. Did you make it?”
“Jah. Danki.” She folded her hands in her lap.
He nodded to her plate. “Datt’s a cute sugar cookie in the shape of a dog.” Ezra’s eyes sparkled and little crinkles etched around them when he laughed.
“Hannah likes them. She’s my assistant. It reminds her of her dog, Mint-Candy.”
He chuckled. “Datt’s a funny name for a dog.”
“When you see Hannah, ask her how he got his name.”
“My kinner are home with my sister.” He pointed to a sugar cookie. “They would like your bakery very much.”
“Jah. Most kinner do.”
He propped an elbow on the table and leaned closer to her. “My large farm keeps me busy growing vegetables to sell at the canneries and at auction. I also raise hogs and cattle. If I have more sohns, I could buy more land and expand my produce. Then the farm would be large enough to support more than one family.”
Ezra smiled shyly. “I hope to find a woman who shares my interests.”
The heat burned on her cheeks. She glanced down at the table instead of into his deep brown eyes.
The Amish Baker Page 11
