“I have heard of Amish churches who are this progressive but I’ve never met anyone from such a church.” She wondered what other rules were different from the ones her congregation had.
Jessica returned to her computer but soon said, “Something smells delish.”
Helen smiled and placed the basket on the corner of the desk. “I’ve brought some treats as a thank-you for Mark, but help yourself. I made plenty.”
Jessica moved her chair closer. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Folding back the red-and-white napkin, Helen unfastened the insulated bag and offered the basket to her.
The door opened, and a tall blond Amish man leaned in. “Jessica, has Mr. Barker decided if he wants six or eight chairs with his dining set, because I’ll have to special order more walnut if he wants eight.”
“Let me check our email again, but I don’t think so. Samuel, this is Helen Zook. Mark hired her.”
“He did? He never mentioned it to me.” He stepped inside and closed the door.
“It was only this morning,” Helen said.
His surprise was apparent. “This morning? Mark hired you this morning? Wait. Zook? Are you the one with the dog?”
Helen wished everyone didn’t look so shocked by the news that Mark had hired her. Why hadn’t he told anyone? “My aunt owns the dog. I’m sorry if he disrupted your sleep.”
“He sure enough did that. I’m Samuel Bowman. My father Isaac owns this business. Didn’t I see you at the frolic?”
“I was there for a little while.” Helen clenched her lips together. The less said about that day the better.
“These rolls are amazing.” Jessica licked her fingers. “Try one, Samuel.”
“Please do,” Helen said quickly offering him the basket.
“Danki.” Samuel took one. “The email, Jessica?”
“Right.” She spun back to the computer and started typing. “He did reply. Says here he only wants six. Problem solved.”
“These are wunderbarr,” Samuel said taking another bite. “I don’t suppose you brought enough to share with everyone. I feel a little guilty enjoying this while the men working out there get nothing.”
“I made three dozen. There’s plenty to go around. Is there kaffee?”
“In the break room,” Jessica said. “I’ll go make some. Cream or sugar?”
“Just black.” Helen quickly folded a half-dozen rolls in the napkin and then handed the basket to Jessica. “Take these with you so the men can enjoy them on their break.”
Jessica went out the door. No sooner had it closed behind her than the phone started ringing. Samuel smiled and nodded toward it. “Might as well get started.”
“Me? Oh, ja, I reckon so.” Helen went to the desk and picked up the phone. “Bowman’s Amish Furniture, this is Helen Zook. How may I help you?”
She quickly wrote down the customer’s order and his contact information as Samuel stood at the counter listening to her end of the conversation. When she hung up, she handed him her notes. “Mr. Fielding in Akron wishes to order three bedroom suites for his furniture showroom. He has sold the ones he purchased before. He says you’ll know which styles he wants. Is there anything else I should have asked him?”
“Nee, this looks great. He didn’t by chance say he needed a custom fireplace mantel, did he?”
“He didn’t. Should I have asked that?”
Samuel gave her a wry smile and shook his head. “We had a customer cancel his order for one after Mark finished carving it. Since Mark isn’t here, why don’t I give you a quick tour. We have our main workroom out there where you came in. The break room is the next door down.”
Helen followed him as he crossed the office to a door opposite the one she had entered. “Through here is our showroom. We keep a few dozen pieces on display and for sale, but most of our work is shipped to furniture stores in different parts of the country.”
In a large room, well lit by numerous skylights overhead, Helen saw dining tables and chairs, bedroom sets, armoires, benches, side tables and even butcher-block islands. She admired the workmanship in the solid wood pieces. One in particular caught her eye. A beam almost six feet long sat on a pair of sawhorses. A forest scene with cavorting foxes in carved relief covered the entire length. “Is that the mantel you were talking about?”
“It is. It’s still raw wood. Mark hasn’t chosen a finish for it yet. Foxes aren’t as popular as wolves or deer, but I’m hopeful we can sell it.” He glanced at the memo she had taken. “I’ll check if we have any of these in stock. I think we do.”
“Should I wait for Mark to give me my instructions?”
“I’m sure Jessica can keep you busy until Mark returns. Have her tell the fellas to take an early break and enjoy those rolls. And tell her to save one more for me.” He walked to the far end of the room.
Helen returned to the office to find Isaac Bowman conferring with Jessica over a ledger. Outside, a pickup pulling a horse trailer turned into the parking lot and stopped. A middle-aged couple in riding clothes got out and came inside. Isaac left Jessica’s side to welcome them. “How may we help you?”
The man held out his hand. “I’m Vern Jenks, and this is my wife, Theresa. We’ve just come from the Stroud Stables where we mentioned we were looking for some authentic Amish-made furniture, and Connie Stroud suggested we stop in here.”
Isaac nodded. “Noah, my youngest sohn, works for Connie. She is a goot neighbor.”
“And a fine horse trainer,” Theresa added. “We’ve just picked up a new hunter for our daughter.”
“What type of furniture are you looking for?” Isaac asked.
“Rustic,” Theresa said. “Reclaimed barn wood, unusual pieces. I’m redoing our hunt club meeting room in American primitive.”
Isaac pulled on his long gray beard. “I don’t believe we have what you are looking for, but we do custom work. If you can give us an idea of what you want, we can make it for you.”
Theresa’s expression fell. “I’m not sure I want to wait for custom pieces to be built. If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”
Helen could tell the couple wouldn’t be back, but she couldn’t let them walk away without at least trying to make a sale. “Is there a fireplace in the room you are redecorating?”
Theresa nodded. “There is.”
“Then there is something you might like in our showroom. It’s a hand-carved primitive fireplace mantel that would go beautifully in a hunt club setting. The wood is unfinished and could be stained or painted, if you like, or left raw under a clear-coat finish.”
Isaac grinned. “I’d forgotten about Mark’s piece. Right this way, folks. Danki, Helen.”
Jessica clapped softly when the door closed behind them. “Nice going, newbie. Let’s hope they buy it. Now I have some filing for you to do.”
Helen smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. She was going to enjoy working with these people.
* * *
Mark entered the front door of the workshop and stopped in his tracks. Where was everyone? The machines were all sitting idle. He glanced into the office. It was empty except for an Amish woman in a blue dress and black apron standing behind the desk at the file cabinet. She had her back to him, but he knew it had to be the wife of one of his cousins. They sometimes came to help out.
He opened the office door and stepped in. “Where is everyone?”
She squeaked and spun around. It was Helen.
So she did have enough pluck to face him again. He was surprised and a little pleased, but he couldn’t let that show. He scowled at her. “What are you doing?”
“Filing.”
“Filing what?”
“Paid invoices. Jessica asked me to do it.”
“Where is Jessica? Where is everyone?”
“In the break room.”
“I’m afraid I’m to blame. I brought some rolls, and everyone seems to like them. Isaac and Samuel thought the men might enjoy them while they were still warm. I saved some for you.”
She picked up a red-and-white-checkered napkin bundle and held it toward him. “I’m so very grateful for this job. You won’t regret hiring me. I won’t disappoint you.”
He tilted his head to the side. “When did I hire you?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a pretty simple question. When did I hire you? Nee, let me rephrase that. I haven’t hired you. I haven’t even interviewed you.”
She pulled her arms to her chest and clutched the bundle tightly in both hands. “But Aenti Charlotte said you wanted me to start work today.”
“Well, Aenti Charlotte got it wrong. I’ll hazard a guess that’s not the first time that has happened.”
The office door opened. Mark turned to see Jessica and Samuel enter. They were both grinning. Samuel clapped a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Mark, you picked a winner. The men love your crescent rolls, Helen.”
Jessica took her seat. “Not only does Helen have typing skills and a pleasant phone voice, and she knows how to file, but she also knows how to use the fax machine. I’m impressed with your choice, Mark.”
“I learned to use a fax machine at my last job, but that was before I was baptized. I’m not sure how your bishop would feel about me using it now unless it was an emergency.”
Helen pushed a slip of paper across the desk. “Jessica, here are your phone messages. The receipts are filed and Samuel, Mr. Barker says Mrs. Barker has changed her mind and wants eight chairs. I took the liberty of calling several local lumberyards. The one in Berlin says they have the type of walnut you’re looking for.
“Goot. Order it. I’ll have Luke pick it up tomorrow.”
“I will,” she said as Samuel went out and closed the door behind him.
“Nee, you will not,” Mark said. “You are not an employee here.”
“She acts like an employee to me,” Jessica said. “Besides, I’m tired of doing the work of two people because you can’t make up your mind and hire someone.”
“Hiring the right worker takes thoughtful consideration. I won’t be rushed into a decision.”
“Well, you’d better hurry, or you’ll be giving thoughtful consideration to hiring two people instead of one. I can get a job anywhere. I happen to like working here because it is close to home and Isaac is so very sweet, but I’m not married to this job.”
Helen stepped up beside Jessica. “Please, don’t quarrel because of me. My aunt misunderstood. She’s a little eccentric, and she got it wrong.”
Helen lowered her eyes and clasped her hands together in front of her, wringing the napkin into a tight ball. “If you would grant me an interview, I would be deeply grateful.”
He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “I don’t see you working out. I’m sorry.”
Jessica folded her arms across her chest and gave him a sour glare. “You should reconsider.”
“I’m not going to change my mind. She isn’t right for the job.”
The outside door opened again, and Isaac leaned in. “Helen, we’re happy to have you with us. I would have let a sale walk right out the door today if not for your quick thinking. She sold your mantel, Mark. You made a goot choice when you hired her. I was beginning to worry about your ability to know the right kind of worker when you met one. I’m pleased my faith in you wasn’t misplaced.”
Mark swallowed the denial that rose to his lips. How could he argue with his uncle? This was his business after all. “Danki, Onkel.”
Isaac closed the door, and Jessica burst out laughing. “I can’t wait to hear you tell him why you fired her.”
Mark pressed his lips together. “I can’t fire someone I haven’t hired.”
Helen took a step closer. “I will go explain to Isaac what has happened.”
He shook his head. “Never mind. Come with me. I’ll show you where we store our inventory and go over our ordering practices.”
She squealed and grinned, her pretty gray eyes sparkling with happiness. “Danki. I’ll do my best for the company. I’ll work hard every day. You won’t be sorry.”
He already was. “This is a trial period only. One month. Your work will have to speak for itself.”
“I won’t let you down. Here, these are for you.” She forced a smile and handed him the napkin. He unwound it. Inside was a pile of chocolate-covered pieces of bread.
She pressed a hand to her lips. “Oh, I guess they got a little squished, but they should still taste fine.”
“I’m not hungry. I’m worried.”
“About what?”
He handed the napkin back to her. “About the next disaster you’ll bring down on our heads.”
Chapter Six
Helen quietly followed Mark as he detailed the jobs he expected her to do. She’d had the forethought to bring a small notebook and pencil, so she was able to take notes as he went along.
He pushed open the swinging door of a room off the main woodworking shop. “This is where we keep most of our non-lumber supplies.”
Helen saw three sides of the room were lined floor to ceiling with bins in different sizes, all neatly labeled. The other side of the room held a large pegboard where various types of tools hung, also neatly labeled.
“You will need to keep an accurate inventory of parts, tools and hardware. Notify me when any items are running low. Each bin has the name of the item on the front and the minimal count number. For instance, this is our most popular cabinet pull.” He opened one of the drawers. “The lowest the count should ever be is sixteen.”
“Will I order more or simply notify you?”
“Notify me to start with. After you’ve been here awhile, I may let you take over ordering. If you make it past your probation.”
“What type of inventory counting system do you use? A computer program or ledger?”
He eyed her closely. “Ledger.”
“How often will I do cycle counts?” She scribbled a note to herself.
“Weekly on Mondays. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
“I worked in a small fabric shop for several years. Our inventory was fabric, buttons and threads, not hardware and wood. We did monthly cycle counts.” Helen saw the beginnings of respect in his eyes. She could handle this job, and she would prove it.
He slipped his thumbs under his suspenders. “A lot of inventory issues stem from improper employee training.”
She nodded. “I agree. Inventory inaccuracy, damage and misidentification can usually be traced to mistakes made by people.”
He frowned slightly. “As I was saying, proper training increases a business’s efficiency and cuts down on inventory issues.”
She resisted the urge to laugh at his pompous demeanor. Instead, she clasped the notebook in front of her and tried to appear the eager pupil. “I look forward to learning all I can from you. May I see the ledger so I can familiarize myself with your inventory?”
“It’s on my desk.”
She looked around. “Will I be working in here or will I be in the office?”
“Where would you like to work?”
“Out front with Jessica to begin with. I know I’ll have a lot of questions, and it will save running back and forth if I’m out there where I can ask someone without interrupting you needlessly.”
“I’ll have a desk put up front for you.”
“Who are your main suppliers? We should send them a card or letter letting them know I’ll be placing orders when my training is over.”
“Your concern should be making it past the thirty-day mark.” He turned on his heels and left the room.
> Helen took a deep breath and sent up a quick prayer that she could do just that.
She made it through the rest of the day without subjecting Mark to a new disaster, in spite of his concerns. When he left to meet with one of their local wood suppliers, Helen was handed over to Samuel and Jessica. Her head was spinning with all the information poured over her in a single day, but she took copious notes and remained convinced that she could do the job.
When she arrived home just after five o’clock, she found her aunt pacing in the kitchen, distraught with worry. Her shoes were muddy. Her dress was torn at the hem, and her kapp was missing. Juliet hadn’t come home.
“I don’t know where she can be. I’ve called and I’ve called. I have searched everywhere.” Charlotte paced the floor of the kitchen, returning again and again to look out the door.
Helen hadn’t spared a thought the entire day for her aunt or her aunt’s missing pet, and her conscience smote her. She slipped her arm over her aunt’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry. I’ll help you look for her.”
“Will you? Bless you, dear.”
“Sit down for a few minutes and catch your breath. Let’s think about where she might have gone. Have you had anything to eat today?”
“Not since breakfast. I’m just so worried.”
Helen steered her aunt to the table. “Sit and I’ll make you a cup of coffee. When you’ve had a bit of a rest, we can put our heads together and figure out what to do next.”
As the coffee perked, Helen fixed a couple of chicken salad sandwiches from leftovers in her aunt’s propane-powered refrigerator. She set a plate in front of Charlotte. Taking a seat, Helen folded her hands and said a silent prayer of grace. When she was finished, she took a bite of her sandwich.
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder toward the door, where Clyde lay on his rug with his head on his paws and his eyes fixed on Juliet’s empty bed. His food remained untouched in his bowl. “He’s so sad. I worry about him.”
“Aenti, has Juliet ever disappeared like this before?”
An Unexpected Amish Romance Page 6
