“Are you going to get in or not?”
“There’s no need for you to take me home. I rode my bike to work.”
“I’m not taking you home. I’m taking you to the farmers’ market in Apple Creek to see what you did wrong.”
His pointed reminder of her failure at the last market crumpled her new resolve. “I didn’t bake anything, so I have nothing to sell.” She walked past him to where her bicycle was parked.
Mark clicked his tongue to make his mare move up beside her. “You challenged me to come up with a business plan for you.”
“And you haven’t said a word about it. You barely spoke to me today.”
“I was busy. I’m willing to talk about it now. The first rule of business is to know your customer. The second is to know your competition. You have a good product, but you don’t know what the demand for it is. You don’t know the price point you should set, and you don’t know what sells best at a farmers’ market.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “It was glaringly apparent that I did not know these things. I thought good food would sell itself.”
“One way to learn the business without so much painful trial and error is to observe your competition in action. Come on. I can develop a plan for you, but I can’t implement it for you.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that you don’t talk like an Amish person?”
He tipped his head to the side. “What does that mean?”
“You use big, hard-to-understand words.”
“I have furthered my education. I’m sorry you don’t like the tone of my speech. What words didn’t you understand?”
“Implement.”
“It means I can’t start the plan for you.”
“Why don’t you say that?”
“Come along with me. Don’t you want to see what you did wrong?”
“Maybe.”
“I think I know you better than that. I think underneath that I-don’t-care exterior, you’re dying to give it another go.”
How did he know she was itching to try once more? Maybe she wasn’t as good at pretending indifference as she thought she was. “You’re right. I am.”
She rushed around the back of the buggy and climbed into the passenger seat, ignoring the self-satisfied grin on his face.
“That’s the spirit.” He slapped the reins against the horse’s rump and guided her out onto the road. She trotted along at a brisk clip.
Helen gradually relaxed and began to enjoy the ride. It was a lovely spring afternoon. The sun was shining, but a north breeze kept it from becoming too hot. She stole a glance at Mark. “I have to ask. What prompted you to offer me this help?”
He met her gaze. “Your determination. Anyone else would have given up trying to get a job with me after the abject failures you had. It was dogged determination on your part, and I admire that.”
“Desperation not determination.”
“I don’t agree. You encounter a dilemma, and you attack it. Your sister steals your fiancé. You don’t hide at home, you set out to make a new life for yourself in another state. You don’t want to continue living with your odd aunt. You decided you needed a job, and you kept at it until you were hired.”
“Aenti Charlotte was responsible for that.”
“Perhaps, but few people would have come to face me after the humiliation you suffered. You wanted to earn extra money, so you decided on a course of action based on sound principles. You enjoy baking, and you’re very good at it. Then you put your idea in motion. Your vision suffered a setback, but I don’t believe you’ll let that stop you. You will try again, and ultimately I think you will succeed.”
“You do? You think I will succeed at my own business?”
“We all have a different idea of what success is, but I think you will reach your goal of being able to move out of your aunt’s home.”
Helen folded her hands together and raised her eyes to heaven. “Please let that be what happens. I love Charlotte, but she and Clyde are a trial to live with.”
“Has she always been strange, or is she getting worse because she is getting older?”
“She’s always been different, but her obsession with her pets is getting worse. I think she is lonely, but she claims she enjoys living alone.”
“Sometimes people say one thing and mean another.”
Was he talking about himself or her aunt? She wondered if he was as indifferent to her as he tried to make out. “I have been guilty of that in the past.”
“I take it the flyers have not been successful in locating Juliet?”
“One Englisch man stopped by to say that he had seen her by the side of the road on the way into town, but he couldn’t say for sure that it was Juliet. He wanted to know if there was a reward. I’m not sure he saw anything, but it could’ve been another raccoon.”
“Surely by now your aunt is ready to accept that Juliet might not return.”
“Nee, she isn’t ready to give up. She says she has a hunch that Juliet will turn up.”
“A hunch is just a guess,” he said softly.
“Or a wish.”
Helen had a hunch that Mark was interested in her. Was it a guess or a wish? The last thing she wanted to do was to steal another woman’s fiancé. No matter how much she might like Mark, she could never act on those feelings. He wasn’t free. She had to keep a lid on her emotions until he left in a few weeks. If she could. He was much too good at reading her feelings.
The ride in the countryside was beautiful. Farmhouses along the way had flowers blooming in abundance in the yards, including colorful tulips and daffodils. The fruit trees were in bloom, and the cattle stood knee-deep in bright green grass.
It wasn’t long before the outskirts of the town came into view. Small houses with small lawns gave way to businesses that lined both sides of the streets. He slowed the mare and stopped at a red light. Helen looked around in amazement. “The traffic is much heavier today.”
“It will stay this way most of the summer and into the fall. This community is a tourist destination. Bowmans Crossing is still far enough off the beaten path to avoid much of this, but I don’t think it will stay that way for long.”
He found a place to park and, after leaving his horse with feed and water, he reached up to help Helen get down. The touch of his hand on her arm sent a thrill spiraling through her midsection. He quickly pulled his hand away as if he felt the sensation, too. She pretended to admire the array of tents and canopies that had been set up.
“If I do continue, I will need a canopy.”
“Why not a tent?”
“Because I want my food to be on display. I don’t want people to walk by because they don’t know what’s inside.”
“Goot. Now you are thinking like a businesswoman. Write it down in your notebook.”
“How did you know I brought a notebook?” she asked as she extracted it from her bag.
“During your orientation at work, you kept writing in one. I assumed you would want to take notes today.”
“I’m not sure I like the way you seem to know what I’m thinking.”
“I observe people, and I learn things about them. It’s no secret.”
“Maybe not, but it’s a little creepy.”
They walked together down the grassy aisle between the booths. Everything from woven baskets to carved wooden toys and fresh honey was for sale. The booth that was selling baked goods was doing a brisk business.
“What do you see that you like about their setup?” Mark asked.
“The displays are beautiful, and they are tipped at an angle so people can see them better. I had my things arranged flat on the table. I see they are giving out samples, too. I didn’t want to give away my product, but I see now that if people like what they taste, they will purchase more. I also see that my prices
were high.”
“Folks come to a farmers’ market for bargains. Notice what people are buying and what they are eating.” Mark tipped his head toward an Englisch mother with two small children. The children each had a cookie in their hands.
“Things they can carry and eat as they shop.” She noticed cookies and muffins in the hands of several other patrons. No one was carrying two-layer cakes.
“Shall we see what the other food vendors are doing?”
“Ja, I’d like to do that. Did you know all these things before you suggested I try selling my goods at a farmers’ market?”
“I noticed them while I was watching you last Friday. You weren’t selling much. I know your product is good, so there had to be a reason people weren’t buying.”
“I should have done that instead of being hurt and humiliated that no one wanted my cooking.”
“You’re doing it now.”
“I reckon you can teach this old dog new tricks,” she said with a chuckle, and he grinned.
She had made him smile. The satisfaction she felt was far out of proportion to her accomplishment. Movement across the way caught her eye.
“Mark, look, there is another basset hound. Isn’t she cute?” Helen walked toward the Englisch couple holding the dog’s leash. The dog was following her mistress’s commands and showing off some tricks, earning treats from a plastic bag.
“I’m not sure I would use the word cute,” Mark said drily.
“I think she is. I’m going to talk to them.”
“Of course you are.” Mark tagged along behind her.
She stopped in front of a couple. “Hello. I just had to say what a pretty basset hound you have. What is her name?”
The woman smiled. “She has an AKC-registered name, but we call her Bonnie.”
Helen laughed. “My aunt’s dog is Clyde.”
The woman chuckled. “That is too funny. Bonnie and Clyde. We absolutely must get them together someday for a playdate. Does your aunt live nearby?”
“She lives just past Bowmans Crossing. What is a playdate?”
“It means getting together to let the dogs have some fun. We make a date to let the dogs play together. A playdate.”
“Now I’ve heard of everything,” Mark muttered. “Making a date for your dog.”
“I think it’s a great idea.” Helen squatted on her heels to pet Bonnie. “She’s so well trained. My aunt’s dog is...not so well trained.”
Mark pushed the brim of his hat up with one finger. “He’s a self-taught terror.”
Helen grinned at him. “I’m afraid Mark is right. Clyde is very stubborn, and my aunt spoils him something fierce.”
“Is he play motivated or is he food motivated?” the woman asked.
“He’s mischief motivated,” Mark answered.
Helen ignored him. “I’d say he is food motivated.”
“Then you might try training him with some of these.” She held out her baggie with a few remaining dog treats in it. “Bonnie will do just about anything for one.”
Helen stood and took the bag from her. “What are they?”
“Peanut butter–flavored, all-natural, low-calorie dog snacks. I make them myself.”
“Really? Clyde does enjoy peanut butter.” She hadn’t noticed before but many of the Englisch shoppers had their dogs with them. Had that been the case at the Berlin market, or was this something that Apple Creek encouraged?
“I can write out the recipe, if you like. It’s simple,” the woman offered.
Helen smiled her thanks. “That would be very kind. I have a notepad and pencil.”
The woman scribbled out the recipe and handed it to Helen. “I use a cookie cutter to make them bone-shaped, but small flattened balls will do just as well.”
“Danki, thank you.” Helen placed the notebook in her pocket, gave Bonnie one last pat on the head and walked off with Mark. Together, they strolled along the row of tents and booths until they came to a baker’s display.
Mark took his time deciding on a cream horn while Helen chose a raspberry scone. They moved away to eat their purchases.
“Yours are better,” he said after he popped the last bite in his mouth.
“These scones are wunderbarr.” Helen kept her eye on what people were buying from the baker as she nibbled. Although there were two beautifully decorated cakes in the display case, people were buying items that were easy to carry, and the baker was handing out order forms for special-occasion cakes to customers who expressed an interest. Packages of cookies, scones, cinnamon rolls and cake pops sold the best. Occasionally, someone bought a loaf of specialty bread.
“What do you see that you could incorporate into your booth next time?” Mark asked.
“Pretty tablecloths. I can easily invest in another table and an awning for shade. I wonder how much those acrylic display cases are.”
“Why would you need them?”
She swatted at a fly buzzing around her face. “To keep the insects off the food. I’m going to ask the baker where he got them and how much they are.”
She took a step toward the booth, but stopped and turned around. “Mark, I have to thank you. I don’t know how long it would have taken me to figure this out by myself.”
“You would have done it,” he said, and she knew he meant it. The warmth that settled in her chest had little to do with his compliment and more to do with the admiration in his eyes.
Am I falling for him? I can’t be. She turned away quickly. Their buggy ride home suddenly loomed large in her thoughts.
Chapter Ten
Only a few minutes into the trip home, Mark noticed that his talkative companion had grown strangely silent. “Is something the matter, Helen?”
Her bright smile looked forced. “Why should anything be the matter?”
“I don’t know. You look worried.”
“I was just thinking about everything I’ve learned today.” She stared off into the distance.
“It might seem overwhelming now but if you break it down into small sections, you can implement the changes you need little by little.”
She turned to look at him. “When did you become interested in how a business works? The Amish men I know want to farm as their fathers and grandfathers farmed and if they own a business, they want to run it as their father and grandfather did.”
“You aren’t giving us enough credit. We may look like we are farming as our grandfathers did with horses or mules, but we aren’t. A lot has changed. Fertilizers and pesticides that our ancestors never dreamed about are now commonplace. Organic produce has become popular, so some farmers adapt and use the old ways to manage pests. Soil health is something that can be studied and improved. It’s the same with any business. There are men who want to do a better job and improve their product even if it is the same product their grandfather sold. Unlike many Englisch businessmen, the Amish aren’t in it to earn a lot of money. If we make enough to get by, that’s our measure of success.”
“Okay, but what inspired you?”
He glanced at her and saw she truly was interested. He wasn’t used to talking about himself. “My father didn’t own a farm. He was the oldest son. Isaac was the youngest, and he inherited grandfather’s farm. Daed could have stayed and worked the farm with Isaac but he wanted his own business. He tried a number of different enterprises, and none of them worked out. After a while, he worked odd jobs for other people, but he was never content to stay in one place. Because of that, we moved around a lot.”
“Rebecca told me that your mother died when you were young and that you came to stay with Isaac and Anna.” Her sympathetic tone gave him the courage to share his story.
“I was eight. During the time I stayed with them, Isaac realized that farmland was becoming too expensive for all of his sons to eventually own their own land. He
knew that to keep his family together he would have to have work that would provide a living for them. That’s when he started his furniture-making business. Unlike my father, Isaac was able to grow and expand the business he started. Anna, too, had good business sense and opened her gift shop. By the time I was ten, I had realized that it wasn’t chance or fate that made them successful. It was understanding how a business should be run.”
“Perhaps it was because the Lord favored them.”
One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “The Lord brings the rain and sun that makes your garden grow, but you must still pull the weeds if you want a good harvest.”
“That was one of my grandmother’s favorite sayings.”
“It’s one of Isaac’s, too. That’s why I came to apprentice with him before I open my own furniture-making business. I have invested two years to learn all I can from him.”
“And those two years are almost up. Where will you go after that?”
“Back to the village where my family lives in Pennsylvania. I have the land picked out where I will build my shop.” He hoped that land was still available to him. He had not heard from Angela’s father, and the uncertainty gnawed at him. Helping Helen gave him something to work toward and kept his mind busy.
He glanced her way. That wasn’t the whole truth. Helping Helen made him feel good. Just being with her was somehow soothing and exciting at the same time. “Are you planning to stay in Bowmans Crossing?”
“I’m not sure. I have a good job, so I may stay. I’m fond of Charlotte even if she is a trial. Eventually, she will need someone to watch over her.”
“You mean someone other than the dog?”
“Exactly. Clyde is already five years old, and his breed normally lives to be ten or twelve. When he’s gone, I worry that Charlotte will have difficulty adjusting. She doesn’t have any close family other than my parents and my sister in Indiana.”
“The church will take care of her if need be.”
“That’s true. She has friends, too. I may be concerned about nothing.”
“Isn’t your goal to lead an independent life? I hope you know I respect that choice.”
An Unexpected Amish Romance Page 11
