The Amish Baker

by Marie E. Bast

  Tears welled up, but she blinked them back. Tomorrow, she’d set her feet on a new path.

  * * *

  Sarah awoke in the middle of the night with a to-do list whirling in her head. She sat up and reached for the flashlight on the bed stand. Her loose hair tumbled off her shoulders, fell past her waist and rested on the bed. She pulled her hair to her left and drew it over her shoulder so it wouldn’t catch when she leaned back. Ach, Lord, my long hair is an outward symbol of submission to You. But it does get in the way sometimes.

  She plucked her prayer book from the drawer of her nightstand, took out the marker and settled back. After reading only a couple of pages, her mind drifted back to the tasks that needed to be done before she moved. Returning her book to the drawer, she rummaged in the back until she found a pad and pencil. She jotted down boxes, twine, cleaning products, then wrote down what cleaning she’d already done and what remained for her to do. Her brain raced from one thing to another, pushing sleep out of her head.

  She reviewed the lists. She’d pack away some of her own pans that she wouldn’t need until she started her own bakery and noted that in another column.

  Sarah glanced at the clock. It was now 3:00 a.m. She rubbed her forehead to clear the fog out of her brain, but it didn’t help. Maybe a short break would refresh her mind. She rested her head back against the headboard.

  Ringing blasted in her ears and roused her from a deep slumber. She reached over and hit the alarm button. A glance at her to-do list propelled her out of bed. She threw her dress on, pinned her hair up in a bun, slid on her prayer kapp and headed to the bakery.

  Sarah scooped medium-roast into the coffee maker, added water and started the brewer. She glanced around at the chaos of boxes and cleaning products, but the idea of owning her own bakery boosted her energy level. Stuff she considered hers, she started packing in cartons and pushing to the side.

  The back door opened and closed. “Is the coffee hot?” Hannah shivered. “It’s chilly out there.”

  “Hot and strong. Your cup is ready.”

  Hannah gave her a hug. “How’re ya doing today?”

  “Better.”

  Hannah pulled a chair away from the table and collapsed into her usual morning heap. “Thanks for having my coffee ready.”

  “I made a list of things I had to do this morning. That was on it.”

  Sarah poured a mug of brew for herself and sat at the table. She took a couple of sips and cradled the mug in her hands. Glancing around the bakery, her heart felt as empty as the pantry. How was it going to feel not coming here every day?

  The bakery her folks had cherished would belong to someone else. Everything that was familiar. Gone.

  Well, almost.

  Since Mamm and Daed’s recipes didn’t exist in written form, the new owner wouldn’t get those. She set the mug down. Surely Turner couldn’t make her write them down. Could he?

  The front door whooshed open and closed as Jacob entered. “What happened to the bell?”

  Sarah swallowed a gulp of coffee. “I took it down and packed it.”

  Jacob hung his hat on a peg and tossed her a sympathetic smile. The little bu had a way of sprinkling her day with sunshine even when it rained.

  Sarah motioned to the stacked pots and pans, then to the cartons. “You can pack all those pans, Jacob.” He set to work and packed five cartons before his daed stopped to pick him up.

  Jacob wrapped her in hug and Sarah sensed by his squeeze that he felt her grief through the anguish of losing his mamm. A bu still grieving his mamm’s death understood her pain. She laid her head on his tiny shoulder and blinked back a tear.

  Caleb wrapped them both in a hug. “Do you need anything?”

  She shook her head. All she really needed was these two in her life. With their love and encouragement, she could deal with losing her bakery.

  * * *

  Sarah wandered through her rented haus, trying to imagine living here. She’d lost the bakery, the one place she’d called home. Tomorrow was moving day. Her life, like stale cake, was crumbling.

  After cleaning the cupboards, flooring and walls, Sarah returned to her apartment. She unhitched King and walked up the sidewalk, admiring the yellow and gold chrysanthemums that waved in the warm fall breeze in the garden her daed had started. Sarah headed upstairs, pulled out some empty boxes and packed the last of her possessions.

  At bedtime, images of being alone the rest of her life ran through her mind for hours. The bakery had given her life a purpose. But now? A hollowness settled in her heart.

  Sarah lay in bed with her life seemingly out of her reach, like the tiny star shining through the window. She stared into the darkness and closed her eyes.

  Dawn crept into the room until Sarah forced her sleep-deprived eyes open, heaved her body out of bed, dressed and wandered down to the bakery for one last goodbye. Her heart pounded while her eyes fought back tears. She unlocked the door and stepped in for the last time.

  Sarah roamed around the kitchen, soaking up the essence of the past, sliding her hand over the cupboard doors that gaped open to air the scrubbed shelves. The aroma of Lysol and ammonia still hung in the air and stung her eyes.

  She walked out of the bakery and locked the door for the last time.

  Now she had to trust Gott.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Caleb’s footfalls echoed in the empty room as he inspected the paint job he’d done on Sarah’s rented haus. The cream color she’d selected for the kitchen reflected the sunlight and brightened her work area. The bedroom’s pale yellow walls cast a cheery glow about the room. She’d appreciate that. Where was she, anyway?

  He searched upstairs, and wound his way through the first floor to the kitchen. She wasn’t downstairs either. He peered out the window. Sarah sat forlornly on the back stoop, elbows propped on her knees, with hands clasped under her chin. She looked deep in thought.

  Caleb stepped down off the stoop and sat next to her. “You okay?”

  “I will be.” Her voice wavered. “I feel as empty as the house.”

  He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I appreciate all your help and support, Caleb.” She laid her hand on his and squeezed. The warmth of her soft skin felt good against his. His heart swelled with liebe. He wanted to take away her hurt, but he had no words that would do that.

  Caleb recognized the squeaking breaks of the Englischer’s truck they had loaded her belongings in, and heard it pull into her drive. “Ezra and his friend are here.”

  She nodded and sat up straight. “Danki for asking them to move my furniture.”

  The sensation of her scooting away from him sent a lonely shiver through his body. He could multiply that feeling by a thousand if she moved to another town.

  Caleb stood and helped Sarah to her feet. He placed his hand on her back as she stepped up on the stoop. His heart twisted tighter and tighter with liebe for this woman. Ever since he’d seen her with Ezra at the fair, he couldn’t keep from thinking about her, dreaming of her. Worrying about losing her.

  But he couldn’t ask her to marry him until Mary accepted the idea and Sarah agreed to change to New Order. And he couldn’t ask her to do that when she’d just lost her bakery.

  He opened the back door for Sarah. “I’ll go help unload the truck.”

  When they entered the kitchen, she headed toward the coffee pot. “I’ll have coffee and sandwiches for all of you when you’re done. The boxes are marked. I’ll be there in a minute to guide the furniture to its place.”

  They worked all morning, bringing in boxes, crates and furniture, creating a maze of passages. Little by little, the mess disappeared as she directed each piece of furniture to its rightful spot. By noon the haus looked great, and she could spend the night in her own bed.

/>   After Ezra and his friend left, Caleb helped her move furniture and uncrate furnishings. While she washed dishes and put them away, he hung a coatrack, tightened a doorknob and attached her spice cabinet above the stove.

  The next morning, Sarah finished unpacking her clothes and placed the linens in the upstairs closet. Her next task was to tackle the mess in the kitchen. She pushed the labyrinth of boxes to make a path from the table to the stove. She plopped her hands on her hips, looked around and cringed at the mountain of work left to do.

  The sudden knock on the front door startled her. It sounded like a tapping. Were there woodpeckers around?

  She hurried through the maze of cartons and flung the door open. “Ach.” Sarah’s lip quivered at the sight of her friends. Caleb, and Jacob, standing next to Hannah. “I’m so glad to see you. Come in.”

  “Hope you don’t mind, but Jacob insisted on coming to help you unpack boxes. I’ll help, too, after I run an errand.” Caleb said as he took a step back toward his buggy.

  “Of course we can use Jacob’s help,” Hannah responded. “That tool belt he is wearing will come in handy today. We will get a full day’s use of him.”

  “I’m ready to start right away.” Jacob slid his hammer out of his tool belt and held it up. “It’s gut for knocking on doors, too.” A mischievous smile spread across his face. “Did you get a dog, Sarah. There is one lying under the tree?”

  “Nein, that is my dog, Mint-Candy. He followed me to work.” Hannah shook her head. “He’s a lazy dog and will sleep all day until I go home.”

  Sarah chuckled as Jacob and Hannah talked and followed her inside. She pointed to the boxes marked Kitchen. “While I clean and arrange the pantry, if you two could unpack, wash and arrange the dishes in the cupboards, I would greatly appreciate it.”

  They worked all morning. Jacob found a loose handle on a drawer. He pulled his Phillips screwdriver out of his belt, gave the screw a few twists and a grunt at the final turn.

  “Good job,” Hannah praised, and Jacob’s face beamed.

  Sarah’s throat tightened at the way this little bu bloomed when encouraged. “Who has an idea for a name for our new home bakery? I had thought about Sweet Daed’s, but I’m open to other suggestions.”

  Silence ruled the kitchen as thought waves flew around, dodging an occasional pan banging.

  Jacob brushed his hands across his trousers. “I could think better if I had a cookie to eat.”

  “You could, huh. Help yourself.” Hannah chuckled, “So, that’s the problem with these hips. I am thinking too much.”

  Sarah stifled a laugh while listening to the two of them banter.

  Jacob stuck his hand in the cookie jar and retrieved a large chocolate chunk cookie. He took a bite. “I have it!” Crumbs flew from his mouth as he spoke. “Let’s call it The Cookie Box.”

  “I liebe it.” Hannah chuckled.

  Sarah gasped. “Me, too. That’s it. We’ll need to advertise. Maybe post some flyers around town. Hannah, ask your friend to make us some posters to tack around town, and a web page.”

  “Gut idea.” Hannah poured three glasses of lemonade and pulled three cookies from the jar. “We need to celebrate first.” They cleared a spot on the table, held their glasses up and clinked them together. “To The Cookie Box.”

  Sarah grabbed a pad and pencil. “Let’s get started. We need to apply for the license and get an inspection. I’ll ask Caleb to build us some tables and racks for our baked goods.”

  * * *

  On opening day, Sarah hung the Welkum sign and unlocked the dead bolt on the kitchen door of The Cookie Box. She turned and squealed. “We’re open!”

  Hannah embraced her friend. “It’s all ours.” She whirled Sarah around in a circle, like she had when they were girls.

  “Stop, Hannah, I’m getting dizzy.” Sarah plopped into a chair to catch her breath. “I can’t believe how gut it feels to own a bakery again, even if it’s only part-time.”

  Horses’ hooves and buggy wheels churned to a stop in front of the haus, indicating the bakery might have its first customers. Sarah stood and took a quick glance around to make sure everything was ready.

  Melinda Miller opened the door and strolled in with a smile stretching across her face. “I’m so glad you’re open for business, Sarah. I’ve sure missed buying my bread at your bakery.” She took a deep breath. “Mmm. It smells delicious in here. Two loaves of whole wheat and one white bread.”

  Sarah smiled. “It’s good to see you, Melinda. Danki for supporting us.” She bagged up her order and before she was through, two more customers had walked in and were looking around.

  By the end of the day, several of their old customers had stopped in and made purchases. Sarah hadn’t been sure how much they needed to bake for The Cookie Box. As it turned out, the guess was a gut one.

  Peeking out the window at closing time, Hannah watched the last person drive away. “Yeah! We got several of our old customers back.”

  Sarah twirled around with her arms in the air. “We did.” She scooted to the coffee pot, poured two cups and handed Hannah hers. Sarah held her cup in the air.

  Hannah clinked her cup to the other. “I’m happy for you, Sarah. The bakery’s going to be a big success.”

  A loud knock caught their attention. Hannah nodded toward the door. “Go answer, Sarah, and I’ll make a pie for tomorrow.”

  Sarah set her cup on the table, opened the door and threw her arms around Turner. “Danki for stopping by for our opening. I didn’t expect it. Would you like a cup of coffee and a roll?”

  “Nein.” He removed his straw hat and turned it around in his hands. “I would like to have a private conversation with you on the porch.”

  She motioned to the door and followed him out. They sat in the two rocking chairs that Hannah’s daed had made her for the porch.

  “Sarah, have you been talking about me?” Her bruder was never one to beat around the bush.

  She stared at Turner, baffled, and then stumbled for the words. “What? Nein. What are you talking about?”

  “Since your bakery closed, my woodworking business has declined. Ken Johnson, Amish Sweet Delights’ new owner, said his business also took a downturn.”

  Sarah didn’t know quite what to say. Their businesses were declining and they blamed her. A prickly feeling inched its way up her back. “I have said nothing about you or Mr. Johnson. People make up their own minds. They don’t need me to tell them what they like or dislike.” She stood and propped her fists on her hips.

  “If you don’t have anything else to say to me, I need to get back in and help Hannah.”

  Turner stared at the hat in his hands and didn’t reply. He stood and headed for his buggy.

  She stomped into the kitchen and shoved the door closed.

  Hannah looked up. “Problem?”

  “He said the Amish Sweet Delights business and his have declined since he sold the bakery and wanted to know if I’ve been gossiping about them.” Sarah paced back and forth across the kitchen floor. “I haven’t said a word.”

  Hannah looked up from rolling a piecrust. “Daed said there is talk in the community. People liked that you ran your daed’s Amish Sweet Delights and they liked your baked goods. Some have tried the new bakery and said their baked products aren’t as gut as yours.”

  “Maybe if Mr. Johnson and Turner are blaming me, they have a guilty conscience,” Sarah sniffed.

  Hannah dumped the apples she had already cut and spiced into the pie shell and placed strips of woven dough over the top for a crust. She pinched the edges of the dough and set it in the oven. “Daed said that some folks around town, like Lazy Susan, didn’t like that Amish don’t make at least some of the products for the Amish Sweet Delights bakery. Susan said it makes her café and all the businesses in town look bad, like their goods aren’t authentic
.”

  Sarah stood at the opposite end of the table from Hannah. “Really? How do people know that an Amish woman is not helping with the baking?”

  “Someone asked Mr. Johnson. He told them he was trying to find an Amish woman, but in the meantime, he and his wife were doing all the baking.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that before, Hannah?”

  “For the reason you just spoke of—so Turner couldn’t accuse you of starting the gossip. But he did anyway. Sorry. I should have told you earlier.”

  Sarah pulled a chair away from the table and sat. “I never dreamed our baked goods were that much better.”

  “We are both terrific bakers.” Hannah chuckled and sat next to Sarah. “I’m still shocked Turner sold the name of the bakery.”

  “Jah, me, too. I don’t even know how Turner and this man met. Turner inherited the bakery and all the contents, so it was his right to sell it and the name.”

  “How about the recipes?”

  “Mamm and Daed never wrote them down. They taught me from memory. Turner knew that. He never baked, so he never learned them.”

  “Could he make you give them to Mr. Johnson?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not.” Sarah wrung her hands.

  * * *

  Caleb walked across Sarah’s porch. Jacob followed but bumped the door. “Quiet, Jacob. Be careful.”

  “Sorry, Daed. With my arms full, I lost my balance.”

  Caleb opened the door and poked his head in. “Mmm. Smells wunderbaar in here.”

  Sarah laughed. “What are you two up to out there? Come in.”

  “Nein, Jacob wants you and Hannah to come out. He has a surprise for you.” Jacob giggled and scuffled around on the porch.

  Sarah dried her hands while Hannah headed for the door. Hannah stepped out on the porch and roared with laughter. “Sarah, come see.”

  Caleb held the door open, his eyes feasting on every move Sarah made. She walked by cautiously with a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

  “Oh, how cute. Tiger and her kittens have come for a visit, but Mint-Candy doesn’t seem to like them.”