“He says it takes too long to tell me what to do when he can have it done in the time it takes to show me.” A lingering hint of hurt feelings pushed out the last few words.
“Well, I’m sure he’s trying to get the store restocked quickly. Tell you what, wash your hands, and you can help Amanda and me make cookies.”
“Okay!” Emily turned toward the washroom then stopped. “I heard Noah tell Jenny this morning that if nothing else, you’re a good baker.”
Mary jerked her head around. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. He also said you’re heavy-handed, and he said that meant you made your cookies and cupcakes really big so you can charge more.”
Mary watched Emily disappear behind the washroom door. Was that right? If nothing else...she was a gut baker but heavy-handed. He had his nerve saying that.
The Lord nudged her heart at her uncharitable thoughts toward Noah.
Emily held her hands up as she entered the kitchen. “All clean.”
“Very nice.” Mary handed Emily a cookie scooper. “Please drop walnut-size peanut butter cookies onto the baking sheet. After you’re finished, I’ll show you how to sugar and flatten them.”
Emily measured the dough out to precisely the size of a walnut and dropped it on the cookie sheet. “I like making cookies.”
“You do a very gut job, little one,” Amanda cooed.
Mary buttered the bottom of another pan. “When do you start school?”
“My first full day is the twenty-sixth. I’m scared though. Mom homeschooled me, but Jenny and Noah said they don’t have time this year.”
“You’ll like it. You’ll meet all the other kids in town, and you’ll find some nice friends.”
When the doorbell jingled, Mary hurried to the front of the bakery. “Morgen, Cyrus.”
“Gut Morgen. Nice to see you, Mary. My frau is still canning and would like two loaves of whole wheat bread.”
She bagged the bread and handed the sack across the counter to Cyrus, but he was staring off toward the kitchen with his jaw dropped open. Mary followed his gaze.
Emily stood in the kitchen doorway quiet as a rabbit. “Mary, I got all the dough dropped onto the cookie sheet.”
“Danki, sweetie. Why don’t you wash the dishes you used? I’ll be there in a minute.”
Cyrus waited until Emily disappeared into the kitchen and then whispered, “Who is that?”
“Emily Miller.”
“She looks familiar, but I can’t place her. Whose tochter?”
“Her parents are dead. She’s the sister of the new owner of Miller’s Farm-fresh Grocery, Delicatessen and Bakery across the street. He’s Englisch but his parents left the community during their rumspringa.”
“Englisch, you say.”
“Jah. Is something wrong?”
“Nein. She just looked familiar.”
After Cyrus left, Mary placed a glass and bowl of sugar in front of Emily and demonstrated how to press and sugar the cookies. “Okay, your turn.”
Emily picked up the glass, dipped the bottom in sugar, then pressed it gently against the cookie dough.
Mary patted her on the shoulder. “That looks great. They are the perfect size cookies. Honey, did you know that man that was just in the bakery?”
“No. Should I know him? He could have seen me at the store.”
“Jah, he just thought you looked familiar.”
“Maybe he could be the relative Noah is looking for?”
When Emily had the cookie sheet filled, Mary slid it in the oven. “I don’t know, but don’t worry about it. Noah will find who he is looking for.” Only Cyrus Miller and his family were very strict Old Order Amish, and she knew they didn’t mix with the Englisch. If they were the relatives Noah was looking for, it would be interesting to see how they accepted Noah and his family.
* * *
The heavy aroma of buttered breads and rolls, frosted cakes and rhubarb pies hit Noah the second he opened the door to Sweet Delights. When he moved closer to the counter, he smelled cinnamon-spiced coffee—the flavor of the day according to Saturday’s chalkboard.
Mary swiped her hands across her apron as she headed to the front of the bakery. Her step slowed when she saw Noah. “Hallo.”
“Would Emily happen to be here?” His voice wavered as he approached the counter. He wasn’t quite sure how she’d greet him after their confrontation at the river, but he wanted to make sure there wasn’t rift between them.
“Jah, she’s helping Amanda and me bake cookies. Can she stay a while longer so she can finish?”
“Sure, I just don’t want her to be a burden.”
Mary winced. “Nein, we liebe having her help and enjoy teaching her to bake. She is a gut student.”
“I know, it’s just that sometimes she’s overly helpful. She doesn’t have any playmates, so she gets bored.” He pushed his hands in his jean pockets and hooked his thumbs over the top.
“I understand.” Mary nodded. “But she’s doing a gut job helping us with baking.”
“Thanks for showing her how to bake. I really appreciate it.” Noah glanced at the pastry display case, then back at Mary. “Emily wanted to help me earlier when I stocked shelves, and I think I hurt her feelings. I tried to explain how to arrange the inventory, but she pushed everything together on a shelf at her level.” Guilt pricked at his heart as he forced the words from his mouth.
Mary nodded knowingly.
He pulled a hand from his pocket and gestured toward Mary. “I know what you’re thinking, that she’s small and that’s what makes sense to her, but I can’t have the store shelves looking like that. And it takes me twice as long to straighten out what she did as opposed to just doing it myself. But I have a job lined up for her this afternoon.”
Mary flashed him a reassuring smile. “She’ll like that. She wants to be helpful. But send her over any time. We like having her company. There’s always something she can do here in the bakery, and she’s very entertaining.” She raised a brow.
He wasn’t quite sure now exactly what she meant by entertaining. Sometimes Emily repeated things that you hadn’t even realized she had overheard. He tried to read Mary’s face but her expression covered any other telltale hints.
Noah glanced around. “How long have you had this shop?”
“The bakery belonged to my stiefmutter. She had it for several years. Her vater started it, and when he died, she took over. A few years ago, she married my daed, and now she has three small kinner, so I’ve been managing it for the last three years.”
“It looks like you’re doing a great job.”
“Danki. Cyrus Miller was in the bakery today and saw Emily. He asked her name and thought she look familiar. Do you know Cyrus?”
“No. Do you think he might be a relative of ours?”
“I’ll ask Mamm if she knew your parents. Cyrus may be a relative, but there are a lot of Millers in the area.”
“Oh, I get it now. Are you trying to shake me up, Mary? Are you saying I’m Amish and you want me to have to ask the bishop’s permission to enter the baking contest, too?” He chuckled. “By the way, did he give his approval?”
“Ha! You’ll have to wait until the contest to find out.” The doorbell jingled and Mary turned to the counter. “Have a gut day, Noah.”
Emily drifted through the kitchen doorway like a butterfly riding the breeze. She fluttered to Noah’s side and stopped. “Mary and Amanda let me help make cookies.” She held up a clear plastic baggie. “I got to keep these.”
He could see how proud she was of herself. “They look good. I heard you were a big help. I have bins assembled at the store, and I’d sure appreciate it if you could fill them with kitchen supplies.”
“Okay, but I want to come back again and help Mary sometime.”
“If she doesn’t m
ind, it’s fine with me.” He caught Mary’s nod as he started for the door.
At least he and Mary were still on speaking terms. Well, for the present anyway. In a few weeks when the baking competition started, that might all change.
Chapter Four
The next Monday, Noah drove to Iowa City to help Sidney, his assistant, make the baked goods and supervise the seven kitchen staff at the preparation of food for both stores. For the time being, each day one of them would bring the food to Kalona and oversee the deli from 11:00 until 1:00. Right now, it was easier to carry the baked goods and deli food to Kalona until he could determine how much business and additional help he would need.
He jumped out of his SUV and grabbed the cartons from the backseat that he’d use to transport the baked goods back to Kalona. “Morning, Sidney.”
“Morning boss. How are things going at the other store? Summer festivals are keeping me busy here.”
Noah glanced at his assistant and nodded. He really liked Sidney, but the man could talk you to death if you let him. “It’s going good. Each day, more locals stop in, so I think it’s going to work out and the branching-out was a good investment. But time will tell.”
Pulling flour and yeast from the pantry, Noah started the family-secret bread and roll recipes. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Sidney, but the old family recipes were mostly kept in his head. There was a recipe book. His great-grandfather handed it down to his father, and he inherited it. But he kept it locked in the safe.
Noah mixed the ingredients, added the yeast and milk mixture, turned the dough onto a floured board and began to knead. He turned the soft mass and kneaded again. He plopped the dough in a bowl and pushed it to the corner to rise.
He reached into his memory and pulled out one of the old pie recipes from the book to try for the baking contest. He opened a bag of apples, cored and peeled them and made a piecrust. He mixed the cinnamon topping and sprinkled it on the pie. When he pulled it out of the oven, it looked perfect. He cut a piece and handed it to Sidney.
“Boss, this pie is a winner.” He then proceeded to tell Noah about the breakup with his girlfriend, a festival he’d attended, baking and decorating cupcakes for his church’s bake sale, all before Noah had finished baking and boxing his products to take back to Kalona.
The quiet trip back to the other store was a welcome change to a morning of listening to Sidney’s chatter. The tall green corn waved in the breeze as Noah passed by field after field. Some farmers were combining oats and hauling it to silos. Bits and pieces of chaff blew across the road and lightly dusted his windshield. Now he’d need to add an auto wash to his list of things to do. He parked behind his Kalona store, carried in three cartons of baked goods, unpacked them and arranged the pastries in the display case.
When he finished, he glanced at the closed office door where Jenny was still working on the books and setting up the new computer system.
It was risky opening a new store in such a small town. Especially since he’d heard that Sweet Delights was a tourist favorite. Could this town generate enough business to justify two bakeries?
But one good thing about the move to Kalona, he got to meet Mary Brenneman. An image of her fought its way into his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block it out.
He couldn’t do it. He didn’t really want to do it.
But haunting thoughts of how he was complicating her life shrouded his view.
“Noah.”
He jerked around and faced Jenny.
“Would you please take this stack of store flyers to the post office?” He frowned at her orders as she plowed on. “And on your way back, stop at Sweet Delights and bring Emily home. Supper is going to be early tonight because I have a church meeting. By the way, how long do you think it’ll be before you can handle the store on your own?”
He drew a steadying breath. “I’ll never be able to do all the work by myself. I can run the store, but I’ll still need you to manage the office and do the bookkeeping. We should continue to run the business like Mom and Dad did.”
One glance at her face told him that wasn’t a good enough answer.
He paced the floor in front of Jenny. “I don’t have the cash to hire someone to replace you right now. The move to expand the business was expensive.”
“I’ve received a student loan, and I’ve signed up for nursing classes that start in September. You can have my share of the profits from the store in Iowa City to pay for your help. Remember, this move to expand was your idea. You were the one who wanted to chase down family members, who, by the way, have never seen us and probably don’t want anything to do with us. This is your dream, and mine is nursing. I love you, Noah, but I want to live my own life, and that life is not here in Kalona.”
He held up his hands. “You’re right. I know I’ve been fighting you on this, but I want you to follow your dream.”
She blew out a loud sigh. “Is Emily spending too much time at Sweet Delights? They’re probably getting sick of her hanging around. I don’t want her to be a bother to Mary and Amanda.”
“Mary assured me Emily isn’t a bother.” He huffed through gritted teeth. “She’s a little girl who lives above a store in the middle of town. She’s new here and has no friends. And we don’t have much time to spend with her since the folks died.”
“Do you still want to send her to public school this fall? You could hire more help that would free up some time so you could help her with studies.” Jenny’s voice softened.
He saw where this was going. “She needs friends. And neither of us has the time to homeschool her, especially if you’re attending school.”
She nodded. “I need to get supper in the oven. After you stop at the post office, don’t forget Emily. Supper will be ready in thirty minutes.”
Noah grabbed his brimmed hat, screwed it down on his head and stepped out the door into a gust of wind. He glanced at the wall of dark clouds rolling in from the west, ran the one block up Fifth Street to the post office, mailed the flyers, crossed the street and hurried back down Fifth Street to Sweet Delights.
Windblown and slightly wet, he ducked into the bakery and met Mary’s gaze as she looked up from wiping the counter. “Good afternoon. I’m here to get Emily.” His heart jumped at the sight of that lovely face.
“Jah, she has been a great help this afternoon.” He watched her eyes twinkle and wondered if it was all for Emily, or maybe just a little bit was for him.
Emily poked her head around the kitchen doorway. “Hi, Noah. I’ll be done helping Amanda in a minute.”
“Hurry, Jenny has supper ready.”
“Just one minute.” She held up her index finger.
His attention flicked back to Mary as his thundering heart began to quiet. “How’s the entry for the contest coming along?”
“That’s off-limits, Noah, I’m not saying a word about my entry.”
He laughed. “I’m just making small talk.” He turned toward the kitchen door. “Emily, come on we need to get going.”
His sister appeared holding a box with a cellophane top showing three chocolate cupcakes inside. She held them up. “I made these all by myself. There were six but we ate three. Amanda said they were delicious.” Emily’s face beamed with pride.
He glanced at Mary, who smiled and nodded. “They look really good, sis. Tell Mary thanks, we need to go.”
“Thanks, Mary.” Emily raised her voice. “Thanks, Amanda.”
“Jah, any time,” came the voice from the kitchen.
As Noah headed for the door, a clap of thunder rumbled across the sky. “We better hurry.”
He caught Emily’s hand, pulled her under Sweet Delights’ awning and watched the traffic for a good time to run. When the coast was clear, he rushed her across the street.
As they jumped the curb, sizzling streaks of lightning pierced the sky
followed by a long haunting blast from the storm siren. When drops of rain pelted his face, Noah yanked the door open, pushed Emily into the store and jumped in right behind her. A strange tingle twisted in his gut. Whenever he heard a siren, it seemed disaster wasn’t far behind. He’d heard that same sound shortly after his folks had left the house the night they’d been killed in a car accident.
He mouthed a silent prayer no one would be hurt this time.
* * *
While Amanda waited for her daed to pick her up at Sweet Delights, Mary scanned the ominous sky as she hurried to the corral and hitched King. He shook his head, snorted and pawed the ground. She patted his nose. “Jah, I can see you’re nervous. Quit acting like that. You’re scaring me.”
She climbed in the buggy and tapped the reins against King’s back. He bolted down the street as if sensing danger. The horse lengthened his gait to a full gallop. “Whoa, King.” She pulled back on the reins. He didn’t obey. Lightning streaked over their heads and hit the ground close by, causing sparks to fly. She could smell something burning. Wood? Maybe hay. She wasn’t quite sure. A boom of thunder sent King galloping even faster.
Mary gripped the reins and pushed back firmly against the seat for whatever was going to happen. She had no control over King. He sensed danger, and so did she. They needed to get off the road but home was three miles away. Surely, they could make it.
Her heart banged against her ribs so hard she thought it would explode. Rain pounded the buggy roof and slashed against the side. When the wheels hit a rut, they slid this way and that. But nothing was slowing King down. Mary bit her bottom lip. If she screamed, the horse would panic.
Stay calm...stay calm...stay calm.
They neared the turnoff to the gravel road, but King was still at full gallop. “Whoa, King, whoa.” Panic raced through every fiber of her being. “King, whoa!”
King knew the road and every blade of grass from here to the farm. He knew where his home was, and he wanted to be in his barn eating his oats. King ignored Mary’s tugging on the reins. He turned off the asphalt onto the country road at nearly a full gallop. When he turned left, the buggy slid right, jerking King from his footing and pulling him down into the ditch.
The Amish Baker's Rival Page 4
