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The Amish Baker's Rival

Page 8

by Marie E. Bast


  “Ach, my pie smells done.” Mary grabbed potholders and pulled the hot tin from the oven. A loud thump at the front door startled her. Her hands jerked, but she managed to get the pie to the counter before it slipped to the floor. “What is that commotion?”

  “I have no idea.” Amanda dropped her rolling pin and raced ahead of Mary to the front of the bakery.

  Daed and Jacob carried a table into the bakery and set it by the window. Mary laughed and blew out a sigh. “Sorry, Amanda, I forgot to tell you that we are going to start serving breakfast biscuits and croissants in the mornings.”

  “What?” Amanda stared at the two new tables and chairs they were carrying inside and squeezing in next to the other five. “Mary, that’s going to be a lot of work for just the two of us.”

  “The business has to expand in order to compete with Noah’s store. We are just going to offer the biscuit and croissant from six to nine a.m. It shouldn’t take much more effort to fry a few eggs, bacon and ham. My cousin Nettie is going to come in and help us.

  Daed wrapped his arm around Mary. “I pray your business will improve. Now, Jacob and I must get back to the farm.”

  Mary ran her hand across one of the wooden tables Daed had made. He loved to work with his hands, and it showed. She picked up a piece of chalk and wrote on the chalkboard. Starting Friday, breakfast biscuits and croissants being served with egg, ham or bacon.

  * * *

  On Thursday, Mary and Amanda arrived early to make sure the kitchen was organized and there was space ready for additional biscuits and croissants. Later in the morning, the Country Fresh truck delivered the extra eggs, ham and bacon.

  “I sure hope my idea works.” Mary braced herself with a hand on the edge of the counter. Her brain spinning at the thought of the extra money she had spent.

  “It will.” Amanda patted her friend on the back. “You’ll see.”

  Mary drew a deep, cleansing breath. “Well, at least Noah’s store isn’t in the Kalona tourist guide yet, so the tourists will probably stop at Sweet Delights first. But I’m sure he’ll have it listed for next year’s printing.”

  She put that out of her head as she started her long day of baking and preparing the bakery for serving a hot breakfast.

  After Amanda set the croissant dough in the refrigerator and went home, Mary took one last survey of the kitchen’s layout, turned the lights out, locked up and hurried, feet aching, to the buggy. She hitched King, and as she stepped in the buggy, a thought tickled her brain. Tomorrow, Noah would be in for a surprise when Sweet Delights started selling fresh breakfast biscuits and croissants.

  * * *

  Friday morning Mary’s cousin, Nettie Brenneman, met her at the bakery and followed her in to the kitchen. “Danki, Nettie, for helping us out.

  “I’m glad to do it. What do you want me to do?”

  “Why don’t you get the skillets ready for bacon, ham and eggs? Place your supplies where it’s comfortable for you. I’ll take the croissant dough from the refrigerator and finish making the first batch.”

  “Danki, Mary, I’m excited about helping, and maybe I can show you some of my baking.”

  She watched Nettie tear around the kitchen, accustomed to cooking for her parents and ten siblings. Mary had tasted Nettie’s breakfast rolls, and they were delicious. Jah, maybe Nettie would bring some new flavor to the bakery.

  Ten minutes later, Amanda rushed into the kitchen, letting in a cool gust of morning air. She glanced around. “Wow, you two have been working hard. The stations look ready to go.”

  Mary glanced at her friend. “Gut Morgen. Jah, Nettie will fry the eggs and meat. I’m finishing the croissants.”

  “I’ll start the biscuits.” Amanda poured a cup of coffee, took a sip and got started.

  Mary rolled out the croissant dough, shaped the triangles and brushed with egg wash. She set them aside to proof. When they were puffed up and spongy to the touch, she spritzed a preheated oven, placed the croissants in the oven and spritzed again. At the end of the process, they were a golden brown.

  Fifteen minutes later, Mary glanced at the clock. “Almost time to start.” She darted to the front of the bakery, set out condiments, and filled the napkins holders.

  At 6:00 a.m., she unlocked the door. Before she had time to walk back to the counter, Frank Wallin pushed the door open.

  He stuck his nose in the air and made a loud sniffing sound. “It smells like bacon in here. I’ll try a ham, egg and cheese biscuit, and my usual roll and coffee.”

  “Frank,” Mary chuckled, “did you order a roll because you’re not sure if you’ll like the biscuit?” A smile pulled at her mouth, but she tried to push it away.

  He laughed. “It was a hard decision. I want to try the biscuit, but it’s hard giving up the roll.”

  Amanda scooted in from the kitchen with the biscuit. “You’re feeling daring today, Frank.”

  Mary bagged the biscuit and handed it to Frank along with his coffee. “Let us know how you like it?”

  “I will, but I have no doubt that it’s delicious.”

  After Frank, Mary served one customer after another. When the steady stream let up, she glanced at the clock. 9:00. “Ach. It was a success.”

  Amanda ran to the front. “Wunderbaar.”

  Nettie stuck her head around the kitchen door. “Congratulations!”

  Mary laughed and twirled around. “I can’t believe the difference that a few eggs and ham can make.”

  The doorbell jingling, pulled her attention to the next customer. She straightened and threw on a smile. Noah Miller.

  * * *

  Noah stepped forward. “So, you’re making breakfast sandwiches now. You’re sort of a copycat,” he clowned.

  “The bakery has to compete with other businesses, Noah, or was it your plan just to run me out of town without a fight?” Her cheeks reddened.

  He laughed. “Take it easy. I’m just teasing you. I don’t blame you one bit for serving breakfast. I’d do the same thing. I stopped to thank you for introducing me to my family out at the barn raising.”

  Her cheeks lightened to a pink. “Glad it worked out for you.” Her tone was warm.

  “I’m not sure how it worked out just yet, but at least we know each other now. I stopped by my grandpa’s farm the other day. He was mending fence, I helped him, and he asked me to stay to dinner.”

  “That’s wunderbaar. He is strict in his belief, but maybe he will soften.”

  “I don’t know about that. I helped him, and I think he felt obligated.”

  “You should see it for what it is. The feet walk the road, but Gott works in the heart to change the direction.”

  “Maybe someday I’ll know God well enough that I’ll understand what you just said.”

  Mary poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Noah. “I think your grossdaddi wants to get to know you, but you are Englisch. Your daed, his sohn, broke his heart when he left and never came home to visit or try to patch up whatever happened between them. That had to be hard on Thomas.”

  “You’re right. I’m expecting too much.” Noah braced a hip against the counter.

  Mary’s eyes locked with his then she pulled away. “Just keep seeing him. Maybe you can melt the ice that has formed around his heart. Eventually, you may chip it away. Where’s Emily? I haven’t seen her the last few days.”

  “She started school and has met some friends, so you may not see her quite as much now.” He tried to hide the smile that wanted to break free. Mary had actually dropped her guard and let them have a gentle moment.

  “Gut, she needs friends.”

  He glanced at the display case. “So how is your recipe for the contest coming along?”

  “So that’s your real reason for stopping by. Now I understand. For your information, Mr. Miller, it is out-of-this-world wow-wee.”
/>   Noah laughed. “I have no doubt. You’re a terrific baker. I haven’t decided what I’m going to make yet. But I’m sure I’ll find the perfect one that’ll stand up to yours.”

  “Noah,” she huffed, “you are so conceited.”

  “I can see I have overstayed my welcome. See you around, Chef Brenneman.” He stole another quick look at Mary before heading to the door. She was sure feisty.

  But then why shouldn’t she be? She was fighting for her bakery and the welfare of her family. He understood, but he’d invested a lot of money in opening this store, and he couldn’t afford to throw it away. The contest would help decide which one of them would survive.

  Either way, he would lose. If he won the contest, it would probably drive her out of business, since a town with a population of five thousand probably couldn’t sustain two bakeries year round. If she won, he’d be driven out of town.

  He crossed the street and looked back at Sweet Delights. Either way, he would lose a friend, one that sure could irritate him but also kept him on his toes.

  Chapter Nine

  Mary sorted through Saturday’s mail and opened the box of new tourist brochures that had just arrived and glanced through the top one. She browsed the column under restaurants and bakeries. Lazy Susan’s headed the list, followed by Miller’s Farm-fresh Grocery, Delicatessen and Bakery, then Sweet Delights.

  She stared at the paper until the words began to blur. She threw the brochure back in the box and snapped the lid closed.

  Amanda looked up from filling the display case. “Something wrong?”

  “Noah’s shop is listed.”

  “Oh! Well, at least yours is listed first, jah?”

  “Nein, they didn’t just add it at the end, they put the shops in alphabetical order. His is listed before Sweet Delights because they forgot the Amish in front.”

  She lifted the box cover, picked up a brochure and handed it to Amanda. Her friend glanced over it, groaned and handed it back. Mary set the box in the cupboard, pulled the remaining old brochures out and set a stack on the edge of the counter.

  “So you are going to use up the old ones first?”

  “Please don’t judge me.” Uneasiness stalked up Mary’s back.

  “I’m not judging you. I know your situation. That feeling you have is coming from you judging yourself. You paid for the old brochures and have a right to use them.”

  The doorbell jingled, and old Bishop Ropp entered, tapping a cane along the tile flooring. “Gut Morgen.”

  Mary hurried around the counter to his side. “Bishop, can I help you? What happened?”

  “I can manage. A cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie, please. And how about a sample of your contest entry dessert? I’ll sit, rest and enjoy the pie...if someone gets it for me.”

  “Jah, jah. I’ll hurry, but what happened? Are you feeling all right?”

  “Old age is what happened. I think I can do anything I did when I was young, but my body lets my mind know who is really in charge. I twisted my knee trying to climb on my sohn Albert’s hayrack. So like the old horses, I’m put out to pasture. If I keep coming in here for pie, I’ll look like an old horse, too.”

  Mary hurried to the kitchen, returned and set two plates in front of the bishop. “Here is your pie. And this other one on your right—” she slid the plate closer “—is my contest entry. I’d like you to try it and tell me what you think?”

  He took a bite of the pie in front of him, chewed and glanced toward the ceiling. He took a bite of the second one. “Both gut but not as wunderbaar as Sarah’s papa’s pie. I thought you were going to try to find his recipe?”

  “Sarah found his old recipe book, but it wasn’t there, or he didn’t write the recipe down that you’re talking about. We’ll probably never find it. But are you sure this isn’t close?”

  “Jah, I’m sure.”

  She sighed. “Looks like I’ll be staying late again to practice.”

  Just before closing, Mary made a pie but the result was the same as before. She cleaned the kitchen, locked the back door, hitched King and set him to a brisk pace. When he turned into the driveway, Mary glanced across the barnyard and noticed Hannah Smith’s, Sarah’s former assistant, buggy parked in the drive by the house.

  She’d better hurry and say hi to Hannah before she left. She unhitched and fed King, then dashed into the kitchen.

  “Ach, Hannah, it’s gut to see you.”

  “Danki,” Hannah pulled out the chair next to her at the table and pointed to it. “I was hoping I’d get to see you. Sarah was just telling me that you’re going to enter the fall festival baking competition. How wunderbaar. That should give you a lot of publicity.”

  Mary sat next to Hannah. “I was hoping we could put our heads together and come up with a fantastic apple recipe. Bishop Ropp was in the bakery today and insists Sarah’s daed had an apple pie recipe that he’d drive five miles just to eat a piece.”

  Hannah turned to Mary’s stiefmutter. “What recipe is that, Sarah? Did we make it?”

  “Nein, I don’t think so. I did find an old recipe book in the attic that belonged to Daed. It had an apple pie recipe.”

  Mary nodded “I made it. Bishop Ropp tried a piece and said that wasn’t it.”

  “While you two talk,” Sarah stood, “I’ll go back upstairs and look again.”

  Hannah shook her head at Sarah. “I’ve seen that mess up in the attic before. We’ll all go. Remember, safety in numbers.”

  Sarah raised a brow. “It’s not that bad.”

  Mary climbed up the narrow attic steps first and pushed the small door open. She ducked her head and entered, but the ceiling was so low she had to stay bent over. She held the lantern as her stiefmutter and Hannah entered. “I’ll hold the light while you two search these boxes.”

  Sarah pointed to a cardboard box. “Check that one, Hannah. I’m going to dig through this big one.”

  Mary held the lantern high to shed light on both the boxes. Piece by piece, Sarah and Hannah picked through years of collecting.

  “Here are some recipes,” Sarah shouted. “They’re loose ones in the very bottom of the box.” She pulled them out and carefully shuffled through the yellow, brittle pages.

  Mary inched the lantern closer so Sarah could get a gut look at the writing. “What are they, Mamm?”

  Sarah held up one of the pages, a smile playing across her face. “This one is an apple pie recipe. All of these loose recipes must have fallen out of the book when I grabbed it the other day.”

  “You found it?” Mary stepped closer.

  “Well, I found an apple pie recipe. You’ll have to make it, let Bishop Ropp try it and see if it’s the one.”

  “Let’s get this stuff back in the boxes and get out of here.” Hannah wiped her brow. “It’s hot up here.”

  As Mary led the parade back into the kitchen, her daed entered from the porch. She held the recipe up for him to see. “We think we found the recipe that was lost.”

  “Gut. Have you told her yet, Sarah?”

  “Nein, Caleb, I waited for you.”

  Mary glanced from Sarah to her daed. “What’s going on?”

  Her daed smiled. “Summer crops were gut. I have enough money to install additional kitchen electrical outlets and get it ready for the food-service expansion. That way, when you win the contest, you can install griddles, a panini press or whatever else you need. A carpenter will install a bar across the front of the bakery. We’ll buy a few high stools and create more customer space.

  Mary charged across the kitchen and threw her arms around her daed. “Danki.” She turned back toward Sarah. “Both of you.”

  Danki, Lord Jesus, for touching Daed’s heart so he could find a little money to spare. Mary glanced at the recipe and crushed it to her heart. Change was coming, and Mr. Noah Miller would soon discov
er that.

  * * *

  On Monday morning after getting his assistant squared away with her duties, Noah headed out the front door. A banging noise pulled his attention to the other side of the street. Was that racket coming from Sweet Delights?

  Mary stepped out of her bakery, crossed the street and walked past his store, giving him the silent treatment.

  “Nice morning for a stroll, Mary. Business must be good.”

  She waved a hand in the air.

  “What’s all that noise? Workmen at your bakery?”

  She stopped and turned. “Smucker’s Electric is adding more outlets, and Bender Building and Supply is adding a luncheon counter.”

  He hadn’t figured she’d remodel. “That’s good. You must be planning on winning the contest next month?”

  “Worried, Miller?”

  “Nope. Actually, I was going to pay my grandparents a visit and try to get to know them better. I wasn’t going to stay long, but I thought since you’re Amish, your presence might serve as a buffer between us. If you wouldn’t mind riding along, and I’m sure grandma would like your company.”

  Mary glanced back at Sweet Delights. “I can get my mail later. Let me run and tell Amanda, but I can’t be gone more than an hour or so.”

  “That’s fine.”

  When she returned, Noah held the door for Mary while she slid in then ran around to his side. He started the engine and headed out of town. “How’s the recipe for the festival coming along?”

  “So that’s why you asked me along?”

  “Of course not. I thought if my grandparents see you, they might be nicer to me.” That wasn’t exactly the whole reason, but he couldn’t tell her that.

  “Noah, what did you expect?” She softened her tone. “It was your parents’ decision to stay away.” She reached across the console and laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Please try to understand it from their point of view.”

 

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