Three hours later, Helen stared at everything she had to pack in the buggy again. Besides the cookies, she had sold one loaf of bread and one pie to Jessica. No one had purchased her beautifully decorated cakes and she’d sold only one dozen cupcakes. Discouraged didn’t begin to describe how she felt.
And to have Mark witness her failure made it even worse. He left his shade tree and came over. “Can I help you pack up?”
“If you must.”
Charlotte carried a box with a cake in it to the buggy. “Look at it this way, dear. We won’t have to bake anything to take to the church service on Sunday. We can spend the entire day tomorrow looking for Juliet.”
“Let’s hope we have more success at that than I had today.”
“Your cookies were delicious.” Charlotte had consumed a half dozen.
Mark folded the table and slid it in the back seat of Helen’s buggy. “What did you learn about selling at a local market today?”
“That it was a waste of time and money. I wish you’d never said anything about it.” Helen climbed in the buggy and jiggled the reins to get the horse moving. She couldn’t wait to put this unsuccessful experience behind her.
* * *
Anna Bowman was working in the kitchen when Mark came in the house after returning from Berlin. He set two jars of jam that he had purchased at the market on the counter. “I thought you might like these. The little jar is lavender jam, and the tall pink one is rose-petal jam.”
“How interesting. Would you like to try some now?”
“I’d rather not be the guinea pig. Ask Noah. He’ll eat anything.”
Anna laughed softly. “I like this change in you, Mark.”
He leaned against the counter beside her. “What change?”
“You never used to joke around. You were always so serious, even as a little boy when you stayed with us that year.”
It had been the summer after his mother died. Mark’s dad hadn’t been able to care for him and had sent a sad, lonely little boy to live with Anna and Isaac, the aunt and uncle he’d never met. Fortunately, he soon fell in love with the entire family. They were everything his family wasn’t. “Maybe Paul’s antics are beginning to rub off on me.”
“How did Helen fare at the market?”
“Not well, and I feel responsible. It was my suggestion, but she took the idea and ran with it without any kind of plan or forethought. She wasted her time and money. She wants to get a place of her own, but it won’t happen if she keeps on the same path. She’s so impulsive. I don’t know what to do with her.”
“That’s too bad.”
“What do you think about Helen selling some of her goods in your gift shop?”
“I don’t see why not. We already sell jams and candy and other food stuffs. Some homemade Amish bread might sell well if we pair it with a discounted jar of jam. It’s nice of you to try and help Helen.”
He shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m not sure she thinks so.”
“Perhaps her pride is getting in the way.”
“She thinks she has to succeed on her own.”
“No one succeeds without help along the way, both from Heaven and from our friends and family on earth. You like her, don’t you, Mark?”
“Maybe. She leaves me feeling all tied up inside.”
“And Angela?”
“Angela doesn’t make me feel like a fool or a brute or both at the same time.”
Anna cupped his face between her hands. “You are neither a brute nor a fool. I’m going to miss you when you go back to Pennsylvania.”
“I’ll write and come visit often.”
“Goot. I look forward to meeting your Angela.”
If there was anyone he could confide in, it was Anna. “She may not be my Angela anymore.”
“What? Why is that?”
“Her last letter said she has decided she doesn’t wish to marry me.”
“Mark, I’m so sorry. Did she say why?”
“Nee.”
“What are you going to do? You must go home at once and find out what is wrong. The two of you have been corresponding for ages. I thought the matter had been decided between the two of you.”
“I wrote to her father.”
“That’s not the same as talking to her face-to-face. She has faithfully written to you every week as you have written to her. You should go see her.”
“My apprenticeship with Isaac is almost finished. I will stick to my plan and speak to Angela when I go home.”
“I pray you know what you are doing.”
“I have thought it out, and I believe that’s the best course for me.”
“Matters of the heart seldom follow the plans we make, for it is Gott’s plan that leads us to our soul mate. Do you pray for His guidance?”
“I do,” he answered, but he wondered if he spoke the truth. God hadn’t been at the forefront of Mark’s life for a long time. His focus was on what he wanted and how he could achieve that.
His aunt’s words stayed with him all evening and even after he said his prayers and climbed into bed. In his determination to fashion the life he had dreamed of as a child, he’d lost sight of the importance of prayer. What if God had a different plan for his life? How would he face that? Could he accept it? How did he know what God wanted him to do?
After a fitful first half of the night, Mark had finally drifted off to sleep when a mournful howl brought him wide awake. Fuming, Mark sat up and looked at his clock. It was three thirty. “That miserable dog! I’m not hauling him home again!”
He flopped back and covered his head with his pillow, but it didn’t help. The deep baying penetrated even that barrier.
Mark threw back the covers and noticed his slippers at the side of the bed when he sat up. He snatched one and crossed to the window. He spied movement in the darkness below.
“Go home!” he shouted and threw the shoe.
“Ow!”
Startled to hear a woman’s voice, he leaned farther out the window. “Helen?”
Chapter Nine
Sitting on the ground beside Clyde’s tree, Helen held both hands over her stinging left eye, trying not to cry.
“Helen, are you okay?” She heard Mark’s voice above her.
The pain was so intense she couldn’t open her eyes. “Nee, I can’t see.”
“Stay still. I’ll be right down.”
“Oh, great,” she muttered. This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid. Clyde proceeded to lick her ear and bark eagerly. She pushed him away. “Stop. This is all your fault.”
By the time Mark reached her side the pain had eased some, but she still couldn’t open her eyes without the discomfort returning, so she kept them tightly closed. He grasped her by the shoulders. “What’s wrong, Helen?”
“Something hit me in the eye.”
“I’m afraid it was my slipper. What are you doing here?”
His slipper? “Why did you throw your slipper out the window?”
“I was aiming at the dog. Not aiming exactly, but I was trying to scare him into going home.”
She peeked with her good eye. Clyde was dancing around them, happily wagging his tail and darting in to lick her ear then trying to lick Mark, who pushed him away. “He doesn’t look scared to me,” she said drily.
“Helen,” Mark said slowly. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”
“I was trying to stop Clyde from waking you, but I got here too late.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning.”
“I heard a commotion outside my aunt’s home. When I looked out my window, I saw Clyde disappearing into the woods in this direction. I got dressed, grabbed his leash and got on my bicycle to try and get here before him. I didn’t know he could run so fast. I mean, look at him! He’s all
flab, and he has little stubby legs, but he got here first and started howling before I could grab his collar. I heard you yell, and I looked up. The next thing I know something hit me in the eye.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Helen struggled to her feet. “I know it was an accident. We seem to have a lot of them, you and me.”
“That is an understatement. I’ll get the buggy and take you home.”
She managed to keep her eye open for a few seconds before she had to squint again. “I don’t need a ride. My bicycle is up on the road. Would you snap the leash on Clyde, please?”
“You can’t ride a bike and manage Clyde, too.” He fastened the lead and handed it to her.
“I’ll walk him home. The sound of a horse and buggy driving up to the house might wake Charlotte. I’d rather avoid that.” Helen climbed up the slope leading to the road with one eye open. She looped Clyde’s leash around the handlebars and started for the bridge. He wasn’t in the mood to go and nearly jerked the bike out of her hands as he tried to dart back to his tree. “Clyde, please, I just want to go home.”
“Let me have him.” Mark had followed her and stood with his hand out.
She sighed and untied the dog. “Okay.”
Mark took it, and Clyde immediately sat beside him looking up with what she could only describe as an expression of doggy admiration. She cupped her hand over her stinging eye again. “I think Charlotte is right. He likes you.”
“I’m so honored.”
Helen had to chuckle at his sarcasm. “Imagine how boring this week would have been without Clyde. I wouldn’t have almost run you over with a buggy.”
“I wouldn’t have taken a dive into a mud puddle.”
“And you wouldn’t have been wearing my delicious cream horns on your shirt front.”
“You wouldn’t have tried to burn your aunt’s house down. Did you locate the fire extinguisher?”
“I did. Without Clyde, I wouldn’t have a shoe print on my face.” The pain was almost gone. She could keep both eyes open if she squinted.
“Let me see.” He leaned forward to see her face by the light of the moon. “Your eye may be red for a while, but I don’t think it will leave a mark.”
“If it does, I’m telling everyone at church on Sunday that you stepped on my face.”
“You wish to get me shunned?” he asked in outrage.
“Nee, I wouldn’t. I’m only teasing.”
“I know, so am I,” he said with a grin. She smiled softly in return and started walking again.
He stared after her. He’d never teased or been teased by a woman before. He’d certainly never spent a moonlit night walking a girl home. Helen’s presence had become comfortable in a way he hadn’t thought possible. Maybe it was because she wasn’t looking for husband. He didn’t have to worry that his attention would be mistaken. He liked the idea of having her as a friend.
Clyde jerked on the lead, forcing Mark to stumble forward. As soon as he caught up with Helen, Clyde stopped pulling and walked quietly beside him.
Mark stared at the dog and stood still again. Once Helen was a few steps ahead, Clyde started pulling on his lead. When Mark caught up with her, Clyde ambled quietly beside Mark, occasionally bumping against his leg, forcing him to move closer to Helen. “This is a strange dog.”
“He gets it from Charlotte. She talks to him like he understands what she is saying.”
“Do you think he does?”
She shot him a look of disbelief. “He’s a dog, Mark.”
“Yeah, you’re right. He’s just a dog.” Wasn’t he?
Clyde wagged his tail and woofed once.
“What are you going to do with your leftover baked goods?” he asked to change the subject.
“I will take some to church on Sunday and freeze some. I’ll take the rest to the shop on Monday. Charlotte and I can’t eat themÁ all.”
“Aenti Anna said you are welcome to sell some baked goods at her gift shop.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You are giving up too easily.”
“I’m not giving up,” she insisted. “I know I can turn a profit if others can. I need to start small and work my way up.”
“You failed to make a profit on your first attempt, but that isn’t unusual for a new business venture. You made some beginner mistakes.” Mark found himself on familiar ground. He knew the ins and outs of business, and he didn’t mind sharing that knowledge.
“And now you’re going to tell me what they were?” Helen asked. “It might have been helpful if you had told me beforehand.”
“I didn’t tell you because you didn’t ask. You have enthusiasm, but your approach lacks common sense. You overestimated the amount you could reasonably sell because you didn’t do your research. You failed to identify who your customers are, and you failed to study your competition. A well-thought-out business plan is important before you take the first step of investing time and energy. That’s why you didn’t do well.”
She started walking faster. “I can’t thank you enough for pointing out my shortcomings.”
“You’re quite welcome. We can all learn from our mistakes.”
“My mistake was letting you walk me home.” She sounded angry, and he didn’t know why.
“I don’t understand.”
Helen stopped in her tracks. “I don’t need a lecture from you.”
“I thought you wanted my advice.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “You thought wrong. Since you seem to know so much about business, why don’t you come up with a plan that will work?”
“For you?”
“Ja, for me. I’d like to see you figure out everything I need to do to turn a profit. Since you are a furniture maker and not a baker, I don’t believe you can do any better than I did.”
“It would be difficult to do worse.”
She made that huffing sound that told him he should’ve stopped talking a while back. She got on her bike and began to pedal away from him. He had to jog to catch up. She pedaled faster.
He was winded by the time they reached her aunt’s house. He bent over with his hands braced on his knees to catch his breath. Clyde flopped to the ground, panting heavily.
Helen took the dog’s lead from Mark’s hand. “Thank you for escorting me home. Good night.”
“I’ll do it,” he wheezed.
“What?”
“I’ll come up with a business plan for you,” he said between deep breaths, wondering why he felt compelled to help someone who clearly didn’t want it.
“Don’t bother.” She tugged Clyde up the porch steps.
Mark straightened, ignoring the stitch in his side. “It’s no bother.”
She entered the house and shut the door without answering.
* * *
Sunday, after the three-hour church service and a midday meal, Helen sat beside Fannie and Rebecca Bowman, watching the young people enjoying a game of volleyball. Helen had given up playing after her baptism. She missed the friendly competitions, but she was happy in the company of her new friends. It was nice to relax and have a conversation with young women near her own age.
Fannie nibbled on one of Helen’s cream cheese–stuffed crescent rolls. “How is your job going? Do you like it?”
Helen shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m learning a lot about wood and tools.”
Rebecca held the hand of her toddler as the boy walked with shaky steps to Fannie. “Samuel tells me you’re catching on quickly.”
“I’m happy someone thinks so. I’m afraid Mark isn’t of the same opinion. He’s the most arrogant man I have ever met!” Helen rubbed her left eye. It was better, but Mark’s comments about her shortcomings still rankled.
“Don’t take Mark’s cool attitude personally,” Rebecca said. “Samuel said he
’s been like that all his life. He thinks it’s because Mark’s mother died when he was so young, and his father had trouble taking care of him. Mark ended up being shuffled from one family to the next while his father searched for work. The poor child never stayed anywhere more than a few months until he came to live with Isaac and Anna. They refused to send Mark back to his father until he had a steady job. Mark lived here for two years. His father eventually remarried and settled down, but by then Mark didn’t want to go back.”
“Did he stay here?” Helen asked, more interested than she cared to admit.
“His father insisted he come home. Isaac and Anna gave in but not before a lot of tears were shed.”
“What about Paul?” Fannie asked.
Rebecca held out her hands to her son. He grinned and bounced on Fannie’s lap. “Paul and Mark aren’t related by blood. Paul’s mother was a widow with a young son when she married Mark’s father. They had five children together, so Mark and Paul each have five younger half siblings.”
Fannie held the baby’s fingers while he took steps back to Rebecca. “Paul and Mark act like brothers.”
“They do,” Helen agreed. She looked across the lawn to where Mark stood in conversation with Bishop Beachy, Samuel and Isaac. Mark’s story gave her a little more insight into his personality. Had a childhood of insecurity produced a man who craved order? It made sense. Maybe she needed to be more tolerant of his quirks instead of taking offense.
On Monday, Helen resolved to be pleasant to him, but she had little opportunity to put her resolution into effect, for he worked on carving a new mantelpiece the entire day and left her to manage the supply room alone.
She walked out of the shop a little after four o’clock in the afternoon. Isaac had closed early because many of the men were traveling to a wedding the next day. Mark was sitting in an open-topped buggy outside the front door. He nodded toward the passenger side. “Get in.”
She arched one eyebrow. “You forgot to say please.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Please get in.”
She smiled. “See how much more pleasant you sound when you use that one small word?”
An Unexpected Amish Romance Page 10
