His cousin entered the shop and stopped. He shot Mary a warm smile then yanked his gaze over to Noah. “Hallo, cousin.”
Noah nodded at Seth. He had wanted to meet his family. But it had been a shock to find out that Seth, his mother’s nephew, was the man who had broken Mary’s heart.
Seth took a step toward Noah and held out his hand. Noah grabbed a hold and shook, but Seth didn’t let go.
Noah jerked his hand away and stepped back.
“Since the dust of shame has settled after your parents’ desertion, you’ve come sneaking back to claim your inheritance, right?”
“Sneaking?” Noah straightened his back. “I opened a store. That’s not really sneaking.”
“Your daed was the youngest son and the one to inherit the Miller farm. So now you’re back to step into that role. Your Onkel Cyrus and his son, John Miller, aren’t happy to see you snooping around their farm.”
“Like I said, I own a store here in Kalona, and I own another in Iowa City. I didn’t come here to work on a farm or to steal one from anyone.” Noah glanced at Emily still sitting with the elderly couple at the table. He motioned for her to head to the door.
Emily hurried out in front of Noah. “Was he the man you were looking for?” she asked.
“What?” He strode across the street. “Well, not the one I had in mind, but he is a cousin of ours. He is the son of Mom’s brother.”
“He acted sort of angry.” Emily glanced back toward the bakery.
Noah grunted. “He’s jealous of Mary. He likes her and doesn’t like that I talk to her. Do you understand jealousy?”
“Yes. Mom gave me a lecture once when I was jealous of a girl because she had a pretty dress on and mine was a plain one that Mom had made. I wanted one like the other girl wore. Mom said it’s what God sees on your inside that makes Him smile, not what’s on the outside. You have a good inside, Noah.”
Noah reached over and squeezed Emily’s hand. As young as she was, she could apply the lesson to this situation. It was the will of God that they should try to please, and then all else would fall into place. But how did anyone decipher the will of God? Noah was still trying to figure that out.
Chapter Seven
Mary slung her hands on her hips, traipsed around the counter and lowered her voice. “Please leave, Seth. I don’t appreciate you coming into my bakery and making a scene in front of my customers.”
Seth puffed his chest. “He needs to know how things are. He can’t expect to move into our community and weasel his way into our gut graces.”
Mary shook her head. “Farming is the last thing on Noah’s mind, and who gets the Miller farm is none of your business, even if you are friends with John Miller.” She nodded toward the door. “Goodbye, Seth.” He turned on his heels and marched out.
She returned to the counter, feeling her customer’s eyes boring into her back. Business was bad enough without Seth coming in and making a scene.
She grabbed a cloth, cleaned the counter and tidied up around the coffeepots. When the bakery was empty, she hustled to the kitchen, trying to shake off his outburst. She pulled a bowl from the cupboard, scooped up a bag of apples, and peeled.
“Going to practice your apple pie again?” Amanda pulled two loaves of cinnamon bread from the oven and set them on a cooling rack.
She tossed a peeling in the sink. “There is something about the crust that just isn’t right. It’s dense instead of flaky, and the apple filling is tart. It will never win a contest.”
“Add more butter.” Amanda pulled a package from the refrigerator and handed it to Mary.
“Danki.” She dumped three cups of flour in the bowl, added the baking powder, salt and sugar. She worked in the butter, poured in the milk and added the spiced apples.
Mary glanced at the recipe for caramel sauce. She added sugar to an iron skillet and stirred continuously until it turned into light brown syrup. Gradually, she added the boiling water and let it simmer.
The trick to a delicious tasting sauce was getting the sugar to the perfect color before adding the water. Sarah had shown her how to create depth of taste. But it wasn’t easy and sometimes it took her more than one try. On contest day, she’d have to make it perfect the first time. This recipe was spectacular...when it turned out right.
Mary washed her hands and took her floured apron off. “Amanda, can you watch the bakery for a little while? I have an order to pick up at Hochstetler’s Cheese and Ice Cream shop.”
“Of course. Tell, Fredda hallo. Ice cream will help you forget your fussing with Seth.”
“You saw his little outburst?”
“Nein. I heard it all the way in the kitchen, along with everyone else in the bakery.”
Mary gritted her teeth. “Seth better never set foot in this bakery again. People will be talking, especially since the gossip has just calmed down after he dumped me at the altar. We have enough trouble keeping customers without him acting like a hooligan.”
Amanda’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Seth did that because he still cares for you. He knows what he lost, and he doesn’t want you mixed up with another sweet-talking, gut-looking Englischer.”
“Amanda, you are a hopeless romantic.” Mary collected her bag from the closet and opened the door to a thick, humid breath of August air. The blazing Midwest heat pressed in on her, propelling her quickly down the two blocks to Hochstetler’s Cheese and Ice Cream.
Mary entered the shop, weaved around the cheese-tasting tables, the coolers and headed to the counter.
When Fredda saw her, she ran around the counter and crushed her in a hug. “I’m so glad to see you, Mary. We have your order all ready. Come and look at our new cheeses, and I’ll pour two glasses of tea.”
Mary browsed the cooler. There was goat cheese, cheddar, Swiss, Colby, shredded, sliced...and dozens more. Mary took a sample of Swiss on a cracker and turned toward Fredda as she approached. “This is delicious.”
“Danki. How did your customers like the ice cream? Would you like to try some different flavors?” Fredda held up a tiny sugar cone.
Mary laughed. “Danki, but nein. They love the last order, but I’d never get out of here if I started sampling. You have really expanded since the last time I was here. You’ve done a wunderbaar job fixing this shop to display your cheeses.”
“Danki, would you like to try some different cheeses?” Fredda turned the plate of samples around and pushed it closer to Mary.
“Not right now. I’m going to expand the bakery’s menu and start having biscuits and croissants for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. When we’ve updated the bakery, I’ll start out with the ones I ordered for today, then maybe add Swiss and provolone.”
“Jah, whatever you want. I can give you some samples to try.”
Mary finished her tea and caught up on all Fredda’s news. “Danki, but I need to get back to the bakery.” She bumped the door open with her hip, maneuvered her bags through the opening, and stepped down to the sidewalk and smack-dab into the path of a man.
Her bag of cheese dropped to the sidewalk. She wobbled back and forth then lost her balance. The man reached around her and pulled her up to a standing position. Cars passing by honked, and a buggy slowed down to nearly a crawl. Ach. She glanced at the street, people were watching.
“Danki, but please take your hands off me.” Heat burned from her cheeks to the top of her ears.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.” His voice sounded all too familiar.
She jerked her head up to see his face.
“Noah Miller. I might have known it would be you.” She started to reach down.
“I’ll get the bag.” He picked it up. “Sorry, I was looking across the street and didn’t notice you coming out of the shop. It’s my fault. I’ll carry your bags back to the bakery.”
“Please don’t. I can manage.”
Mary glanced around and noticed cars still slowing to watch them, trying to figure out what had happened.
“I insist after nearly knocking you out.”
“Noah, I don’t want you anywhere near me. You and Seth made a public display in my shop. Some of those customers will probably never come back. You humiliated me, then and now.”
Mary brushed her hands down her dress to smooth her skirt and noticed red smudges. She glanced at her palms, scraped, bleeding and covered with dirt. She snatched the bags from his hands. “You are bound to destroy me one way or another.”
Her gaze landed on his face and caught the grin he tried to conceal with his hand.
“So this is funny to you?” She tried to make her voice sound serious when she was stifling a laugh.
He pushed the smile away and gulped. “No, of course not, but what a coincidence.”
“You are impossible.” She turned, the bags crinkling in her hands, and hurried down the sidewalk.
Amanda was right. Noah was certainly handsome, but he was dangerous territory. He had an invisible off-limits sign posted to his forehead. Mary had made a mistake trusting Seth. She wouldn’t make that same error again with another Englischer...and certainly not this one.
* * *
Tuesday morning, Noah climbed into his SUV and headed for his grandparents’ farm. He turned onto the gravel road and just before their driveway, he saw his grandpa standing along the side of the road, pliers in hand, mending fence.
Noah pulled onto the shoulder and parked. He blotted moist hands on his trousers and forced himself out of the vehicle. With each step over the road bank, dry grass and weeds snapped and rustled under his feet, but his grandpa stayed focused on his work. Thomas Miller’s abrupt manner had made it clear at their last meeting that he didn’t care to mingle with Englisch folks. And that was what Noah was. Englisch.
Noah stepped to the side of his grandpa and cleared his throat, but the old man didn’t acknowledge his presence. “It’s a hot day to mend fence.”
Grandpa grasped the pliers around the wire fencing with one hand, pulled it up tight to the wooden post, grabbed a staple from his pouch and nailed it in place with the other hand. The old man had a system, but it looked awkward to do with only one set of hands.
When he finished with that post, he silently walked around Noah and headed down the fence line watching for weak spots. He came to another piece of wiring that had pulled loose. Before his grandfather could grab his hammer from his tool belt, Noah pulled it out, snatched a staple from his pouch, placed it over the wire, and hammered it into the post.
In silence, they walked down to the next spot that needed fixing. Grandpa pulled the sagging fence up tight against the post. Noah stuck his hand in the staple pouch, pricked his finger on a sharp edge but pulled a staple out and hammered it into the post. When he finished, a drop of blood had smeared onto the staple and post.
“Your hands will be riddled with blisters and cuts if you keep on working without gloves.” The old man pulled a pair of gloves from his waistband and handed them to Noah.
He slid them on as they walked farther down the fence. In silence, they mended post after post. Not what Noah had expected, but he enjoyed helping his grandfather.
They worked another two hours. At noon, grandpa glanced up at the sun, turned and headed back toward his driveway.
Noah followed. When he came to the spot where he’d parked, he headed for his vehicle.
“Anna will have lunch ready, and I always feed my help before I send them home,” Grandpa said as he kept on walking.
Stunned at the invitation, the words hit Noah like a steel bat. To reject would no doubt insult him, and he knew this situation was as hard on his grandparents as it was on him.
Noah pivoted and followed his grandpa to the house. When the old man hung his straw hat on a peg by the door, Noah hung his hat on the peg next to it.
“Anna, set another place.” Grandpa motioned to the sink. “Wash up in the metal basin.”
Grandma handed Noah a towel. He wiped his hands and handed it to his grandpa then sat at the new place setting. When his grandparents sat, he bowed his head for silent prayer and took his food when they passed the bowls and platter.
The silence was unnerving. But unfamiliar with Amish customs, Noah didn’t want to talk if they weren’t allowed to speak at the dinner table.
“Why are you here?” His grandpa’s gruff voice shook the silence.
“I stopped by to...just say hello.”
“Nein, I mean why did you move to Kalona if you have a store in Iowa City?” Grandpa kept his head down and continued to eat.
“I wanted to expand the business. The store in Iowa City is doing well, but Kalona is a huge tourist attraction because of the Amish community.”
“So you thought you’d tell them you were Amish and get more business?”
Noah dropped his fork. It clanked against the plate then settled in his smashed potatoes. “No, nein. that’s not what I’m doing. I’m just opening a store like anyone else. I’ve told a few people that my parents were Amish, but I don’t advertise it.” His back stiffened, and his appetite waned. He pushed his chair away from the table.
Grandpa motioned toward Noah’s plate. “Finish eating.”
Noah hesitated, but pulled his chair back to the table and took a bite of food. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. But if he didn’t try, how was he ever going to get to know them?
Tension hung in the air like the dust from the gravel road, and silence clung to the steam rising from the food.
Noah finished eating. “You’re a good cook, Grandma. Thank you for inviting me to dinner. It was a pleasure getting a chance to help you and share a meal with you two.” The words pushed out on their own, surprising even Noah.
He shoved his chair back, gave a nod to his grandpa and retrieved his hat from the peg. “Goodbye.”
He headed back to his SUV. His stomach was full, but his heart felt half-empty. He wasn’t sure why he wanted a relationship with his grandparents, but he did. He missed his parents, and he missed not knowing his family.
He opened his vehicle door and looked back at his grandparents’ house. He understood their reserved feelings, especially about the Englisch. His parents had said the Amish lived apart because they separated themselves from the fallen world. From nonbelievers.
He was a believer. Was it possible for him to have a relationship with them? And to have one with Mary?
Chapter Eight
After completing the Wednesday morning baking, Mary flipped open her recipe book. Was she wasting her time looking for that special recipe? The bishop hadn’t given her his final approval to enter the contest yet, and it was in five weeks.
She pulled a pencil from a holder and added notes to her recipe card: more nutmeg and a dash of cinnamon. Maybe she’d add licorice or anise for a little different taste to the apples and try a cookie dough for the pie crust.
Mary mixed, rolled the dough, laid the butter crust in the pan, arranged the spiced apples, and then wove strips of pastry over the top. She slipped it in the oven just as the bell jingled over the front door. Blotting her hands on her apron, she speed-walked toward the display counter. When she saw the customer, her feet almost stuttered to a stop. Bishop Yoder. And he wore a solemn face.
She eased herself forward like a child en route to her father for punishment. Reaching the counter, she jerked her chin up. “Gut Morgen, Bishop Yoder. Do you have a sweet tooth this morning?”
“Just a cup of coffee, and could you take a minute to sit with me?”
“Jah, I’ll bring it over.” Her hands jittered as she poured the coffee.
He took the table by the window and placed his hat on the chair next to him.
Oh, Lord, please let this be gut news. She carried two cups to the table and sat opposite the bishop. She blew on
her coffee while he poured sugar and cream into his brew and stirred.
He took a sip, pushed his cup to the side and clasped his hands on the table. “Mary, I was riding past Hochstetlers’ Cheese shop on Monday, and I noticed you with Noah Miller. He had his arms around you. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of the problems with seeing an Englischer. You’re a baptized member of the church. You will be shunned if you marry him, and the church could discipline you if continue to make such a public display.”
Mary jerked her cup as she raised it to take a sip. Nearly spilling it, she set it back down. “I’m not seeing Noah.”
“I know that he and his sisters spend significant time at your bakery.”
“Emily likes to come over and talk to Amanda, and she enjoys helping us bake. She’s new in town and lonely. It’s harmless.” Her words flurried out, uncontrolled.
“I also saw you with Noah at the barn raising introducing him to his relatives. Be careful, Mary.” He emphasized the last three words. “What looks like something innocent today can turn into something serious when you least suspect it.” The bishop took another sip of his coffee, grabbed his hat and pushed his chair back. “You have permission to compete in the contest.” He stood and walked out.
At the sound of footfalls behind her, Mary sprang up from her chair. “Amanda, you gave me a start. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Jah, I see that. You’re as white as flour. Are you all right?”
“The bishop was just here and warned me about getting too friendly with Noah. But I got permission to compete in the contest.”
“Gut news and bad. He’s trying to keep his flock together. You can’t blame him for that. And he knows that kind of relationship can end in heartbreak.” Amanda wrapped her friend in a hug. “But you don’t have feelings for Noah, do you?” Her voice sounded more probing than sure.
“Of course not.” At least, Mary hoped she didn’t. Although her back still tingled from Noah’s touch after he lifted her from the ground. Her heart fluttered each time she thought about the encounter. But nein, she would be sure to protect her heart when Noah was around. She followed Amanda back to the kitchen.
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