by Amy Clipston
“I know, but she seems very anxious about it, Daniel. I think it’s eating her up inside.”
He touched his beard, a mannerism he often practiced when he was deep in thought. “The decision to be baptized is a decision that is made between the candidate and God. You need to trust her to listen to her heart and to God.”
Rebecca breathed out a deep sigh while she idly studied the clock on the wall. “I can’t imagine losing her,” she finally said. “I want her to decide to stay here permanently, but I know that’s not my place.”
“She’s a very intuitive and special girl, but you have to remember that she lived among the English before she came here,” he said. “Joining the church may not be what’s right for her.” He stood and took her hand, lifting her to her feet. “You look exhausted, Becky. I think you should head to bed.”
“You’re probably right,” she said, squeezing his hand.
As he led her to the stairs, Rebecca sent up a silent prayer asking God to point Lindsay to a path that would lead to her happiness, preferably in Lancaster County.
2
Have a gut day,” Lindsay called to her uncle Daniel before hopping from the van and heading through the parking lot toward the front steps of the Kauffman Amish Bakery the next morning.
Daniel paid a driver to take him and Lindsay to work instead of using the horse and buggy. Every morning, the driver took Lindsay to the bakery before heading to the Kauffman & Yoder Amish Furniture store, where Daniel worked alongside his father, brother, brother-in-law, and friends.
While crossing the parking lot, Lindsay glanced toward the farm where a cluster of large houses sat back off the road surrounded by four barns, along with a beautiful lush, green pasture.
This area had become her home during the past four years. The property was owned by Elizabeth and Eli Kauffman, Daniel’s parents. Daniel’s younger brother, Timothy, and his wife, Miriam, lived in one of the houses. Nearby was the home Daniel’s sister, Sarah Rose, shared with her husband, Luke, and their two sets of twins. The bakery was the fourth house, the one closest to the road. Daniel and his five siblings grew up in the biggest house, where his parents still lived.
Lindsay quickened her steps while approaching the white clapboard farmhouse with the sweeping wraparound porch. Although it resembled a farmhouse, the building had served as the bakery for longer than Lindsay had been alive. A large sign with “Kauffman Amish Bakery” in old-fashioned letters hung above the door. Soon after the “Open” sign was turned over in the front window, the parking lot would be overflowing with cars as tourists came to sample a taste of the Amish way of life.
Out behind the building was a fenced-in play area, where Elizabeth Kauffman’s grandchildren played during the day, and beyond that was an enclosed pasture. The three other large farmhouses and four barns were set back behind the pasture. The dirt road leading to the other homes was roped off with a sign declaring “Private Property—No Trespassing.” A large paved parking lot sat adjacent to the bakery.
Lindsay cupped a hand to her mouth to curb a yawn. She’d spent most of the night praying —debating if she belonged in the Amish or English world and wishing her mother were alive to guide her. Of course, if her parents were alive, Lindsay would still be living in Virginia and finishing up her senior year in high school.
Pushing those thoughts away, Lindsay stepped through the back door of the bakery and inhaled the sweet smell of baking bread. A smile turned up her lips as she breathed in the aroma that had become so familiar and comforting since she began working in the bakery four years ago.
Elizabeth, her daughters Beth Anne and Kathryn, and Kathryn’s daughters Amanda and Ruthie rushed around the kitchen preparing desserts for the day.
“Gude mariye, Lindsay! Wie geht’s?” Beth Anne called while washing cookie sheets.
“Doing okay, danki.” Lindsay stood at the sink and scrubbed her hands. “What should I start on?”
“Whoopie pies,” Kathryn chimed in, stepping over to the sink with a smile. “They sold out, so we need some singles and some boxes of them. It’s gut to see you.” Her eyes turned suspicious. “You look tired. Did you sleep well last night?”
“Ya. I slept fine. Danki.” Avoiding Kathryn’s concerned stare, Lindsay greeted Ruthie and Amanda while gathering the ingredients and cooking supplies.
Lindsay fell deep into thought while she mixed together the ingredients for the cake shell that would encase the white filling.
Elizabeth placed a cake in the oven and then approached Lindsay. “You’re awfully quiet this morning,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Is everything all right?”
“Ya. Everything is gut.” Lindsay smiled at the Kauffman family matriarch. She loved Elizabeth like a surrogate grandmother and cherished the long talks they’d shared since she came to live with her aunt Rebecca.
Elizabeth gave a look of disbelief that mirrored Kathryn’s expression earlier. “I know you like I know my other grossdochdern.” She touched Lindsay’s hand. “You know you can tell me anything, ya?”
Lindsay nodded. “Ya.”
“If something is bothering you and you need to confide in someone, I’m happy to listen.”
Lindsay glanced across the kitchen to where Amanda and Ruthie stood cutting out sugar cookies. She knew they would also take the baptism classes with their cousins, Katie and Nancy. Although Lindsay liked Amanda and Ruthie very much, she didn’t want them to know that she was debating whether or not she’d join their class.
With a knowing smile, Elizabeth gestured toward the front door. “How about we take a walk out to the porch? We have a little over an hour before customers will begin arriving.”
“Okay.” Lindsay wiped her hands on a towel and then followed Elizabeth.
The two long counters would soon be filled with desserts ready for sale. Beyond the counter was a sea of Lancaster County souvenirs, including carousel racks filled with books, maps, postcards, magnets, keychains, collectible spoons, and note cards. Shelves nearby overflowed with T-shirts, sweatshirts, hats, dolls, framed art, and figurines.
A cash register sat in the middle of the room, and the women would take turns operating it throughout the day, along with baking and caring for the younger Kauffman children.
Elizabeth and Lindsay stepped out onto the porch and sat at one of the little tables.
“Was iss letz, mei liewe?” Elizabeth asked with a warm smile.
Lindsay ran her finger over the cool aluminum table. “I’m confused about some things.”
“I’d love to try to help lighten the load for you, Lindsay.”
Sighing, Lindsay looked up. “Six months ago, I knew what I wanted. I was certain in my heart and in my mind that I belonged here. Now I’m not so sure.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you mean. Are you leaving us?”
“No, no,” Lindsay said quickly. “I’m not leaving. This is my home.”
“Then why do you feel pressured to make a decision about your future?”
Lindsay nodded toward the door as if gesturing to Ruthie and Amanda. “The baptism class is beginning in a few weeks. I was certain a month ago that I wanted to be in it, but now I have doubts.”
Elizabeth’s warm smile was back. “No one is pressuring you, mei liewe. Everyone decides whether or not to join in his or her own time. In fact, if you’re never absolutely certain, you don’t have to join and, quite frankly, you shouldn’t join. Whether or not you’re baptized into the faith, you’re still a part of our family, and we’ll always love you.”
“Danki.” Overwhelmed by the sentiment of Elizabeth’s words, Lindsay’s lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. “How do I know where I belong? Jessica is so sure that she’s supposed to be English, and she tells me all the time that I am too. I don’t think I’m supposed to be English, but I also don’t know if I’m really Amish either. When was the last time you saw a redhead with green eyes wearing a prayer kapp?”
“There are two of us redheads, ya?” Lindsay smiled and swiped the tears from her warm cheeks with the back of her hand. “I was up nearly all night trying to figure this out. I prayed until I ran out of words, and I’m just as confused this morning as I was last night, if not more so.”
“You don’t need to figure this out today, Lindsay. Nor do you need to decide tomorrow. Give yourself some time. You’re only eighteen.”
“But Katie and Lizzie Anne are very disappointed in me.” Lindsay shook her head. “They can’t understand why I’m not certain if I’m ready to take baptism class. Yesterday they asked me why I changed my mind, and I couldn’t give them an answer.”
Elizabeth patted Lindsay’s arm. “You don’t have to tell them anything. They won’t judge you because the Bible tells us not to judge one another. Just say that you think you need to wait until the next class, and leave it at that. Did you tell Rebecca how you feel?”
Lindsay nodded.
“And she was supportive, ya?”
“She was.”
“This decision is not one to be taken lightly,” Elizabeth began, “and it doesn’t need to be rushed. You’ll know when and if the time is right for you to join the church. God will tell you loud and clear, so don’t feel pressured to do it now simply because your friends are.” She stood and motioned toward the door. “We best finish our baking. If last week is any indication of how this week is going to go, then we’ll have empty counters before noon.”
“Would it be okay if I sat out here for a few minutes?” Lindsay asked.
“Of course.” Elizabeth touched Lindsay’s shoulder. “Take all the time you need, but don’t forget about those whoopie pies.”
“Danki, Elizabeth.” Lindsay watched Elizabeth slip back into the bakery and then turned toward the parking lot. Closing her eyes, she prayed for a clear head and strength, and then she stood and hurried toward the bakery to begin her day.
Later that evening, Lindsay set the last clean dish in the drying rack on the counter and then gazed out the kitchen window and spotted a horse and buggy clip-clopping up the long driveway toward the barn.
Giggles erupted from the bathroom where Rebecca bathed Daniel Jr. and Emma.
“Aenti Rebecca,” Lindsay called. “Are you expecting company?”
“Not that I know of,” Rebecca called over another chorus of giggles. “Is someone here?”
“Ya,” Lindsay said, drying her hands on a towel. “A buggy just pulled up by the barn. I’m going to go see who it is.”
She placed the towel on the counter and then made her way through the back door to the porch. Glancing toward the barn, she spotted Matthew Glick and Samuel Kauffman emerging from the buggy. Her hands immediately flew to her head, and she absently touched her prayer covering, making sure it was on straight.
She then silently chastised herself for worrying about her appearance. After all, Matthew was only a friend. Although he’d worked at the Kauffman & Yoder Furniture store for the past two years and attended church in her district, Lindsay had never spoken to him for longer than a few minutes. He seemed very shy and standoffish, making conversation with him challenging at times.
Daniel emerged from the barn and shook hands with the young men. While Samuel followed his uncle into the barn, Matthew looked toward the house and a smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he waved to Lindsay.
Her heart fluttered as she waved back. “Hi.”
“Wie geht’s?” He sauntered over to the porch and rested his right foot on the bottom step.
“I’m doing fine, danki.” She fingered the ribbons on her prayer covering. “What brings you and Samuel out here so late?”
He gestured toward the barn. “I’d stopped over to say hello to Sam earlier. He mentioned that his dat asked him to run over here and see if he could borrow a few tools from Daniel. So I offered to ride with him.”
For a split second, Lindsay wondered if Matthew had wanted to ride over to see her, but she quickly dismissed that notion and motioned toward the porch swing. “Would you like to have a seat? I mixed some fresh tea earlier.”
“That sounds wunderbaar.” His smile was wide, and his golden brown eyes sparkled.
“Have a seat and I’ll be right back.” Lindsay rushed into the kitchen and gathered up a tray, a pitcher of tea, and a few glasses.
She was placing a plate of whoopie pies on the tray when Rebecca came to the doorway of the family room with Emma in her arms, her little face split with a wide grin. Daniel Jr. stood beside his mother with his thumb in his mouth.
Rebecca’s expression was curious. “What are you doing?”
“Samuel and Matthew stopped by,” Lindsay said, wishing her cheeks would cool down. “Sam’s in the barn talking to Onkel Daniel, but Matthew is sitting on the porch. I thought I’d bring him a snack.”
Her aunt grinned, and Lindsay’s cheeks burned hotter.
“Tell him I said hello,” Rebecca said as she started toward the stairs. “I’m going to take the kinner upstairs and read their bedtime stories.”
Lindsay kissed her cousins good night and then returned to the porch, balancing the tray in her hands.
“Oh,” Matthew said, jumping up from the swing. “Let me help you with that.”
“Danki,” she said as he took the tray and placed it on the small table next to the swing.
He rubbed his hands together. “My favorite.”
“What’s that?” she asked, pouring the glasses of tea.
“Whoopie pies.” He lifted one from the plate. “My mamm made the best whoopie pies I’d ever tasted before she got grank.” He bit into the whoopie pie and groaned. “These are appeditlich. Just as gut if not better than hers.”
Lindsay couldn’t suppress the grin that overtook her lips. “Ya?”
“Mmmhmm.” He continued to chew. “I don’t think she even used a recipe. She seemed to make them from memory.”
Lindsay lifted a glass of tea and contemplated his words. She knew that Matthew and his mother had moved to Bird-in-Hand to live with his sister so that his sister could help him nurse their mother during her last days. His mother had passed away last year.
Although Lindsay had attended his mother’s funeral, Matthew had never mentioned his mother to Lindsay until that moment. She hoped that this conversation was a bridge into a closer friendship. A strange excitement surged through her at the thought.
“I’m sorry that you lost your mamm. How are you doing?” she said. “I’m certain that was a rough time.”
“It was, but I know you’re experienced with that loss.” He snatched a second whoopie pie. “Are you going to have one?”
She shook her head. “No, I sampled them earlier to make sure they were edible.”
“Did you make these?”
She nodded, and he looked impressed.
“You’re a talented baker,” he said before biting into the second whoopie pie.
She shrugged and sipped her tea. “I learned all I know from Elizabeth Kauffman and the rest of the bakers at work.”
He finished the whoopie pie and reached for a third.
“I’ll have to remember that these are your favorite,” she said. “You’re going to finish the plate before Daniel and Samuel come out of the barn.”
He frowned. “I have to share?”
She laughed. “No, I guess you don’t. Just be certain you finish them all and sweep the crumbs onto the ground before they see.”
“These are too gut to share anyway.” He bit into the little cake.
“Rebecca told me to tell you hello. She’s putting the kinner to bed.” She gripped her glass in her hands and glanced across the pasture toward the setting sun.
“How are the kinner?” he asked.
“Fine.” He lifted the glass of tea she’d poured for him. “Daniel mentioned today that the bakery has been very busy.”
Lindsay snorted softly. “Busy is an understatement. It’s as though we fill the counter with desserts to sell and it’s immediately empty. We can’t seem to bake fast enough. Elizabeth is talking about trying to find more bakers since we’re so short-handed. Rebecca, Miriam, and Sarah Rose are busy with their little ones, and they won’t return until their kinner are older. We may need to train a few more of the Kauffman granddaughters.” She decided to take a bite after all and snatched a whoopie pie from the plate before breaking it in half. “How is the furniture store?”
“It’s steady. I have a few projects in my stall.” He turned toward her. “I heard a baptism class is starting up in a few weeks.”
She pursed her lips before responding to his statement. “I heard that too.”
“Sam mentioned his sisters Katie and Nancy would be in that class,” he continued. “He also thought his cousins Amanda and Ruthie would attend it.”
Lindsay bit into half of the whoopie pie while studying the open barn door. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t sure if she belonged in the church or even if she belonged in the community, but worry stole her words. She didn’t want to risk losing his friendship or his respect by sharing her self-doubt.
“The weather’s nice tonight,” he suddenly said. “There’s a pleasant breeze in the air.”
“Matthew, how did you know you were ready to join the church?” The question burst from her lips before she could stop the words from forming.
He shrugged. “I just knew.”
She looked down at the half-eaten cookie in her hands. “You had no doubts at all?”
“Not really.” He paused for a moment. “I guess part of it was that I wanted to prove I wasn’t like my father.”
She studied his handsome face. “What do you mean?”
His lips formed a thin line. “My father abandoned my mother and me when I was ten.”
