She gulped a breath and opened the door. Noah was busy at work and didn’t look up, but Amanda was also in the kitchen, setting a pan of bread in the oven.
“Danki, Amanda, for getting here early.”
Amanda tossed her a smile and winked. “I knew you would be busy all day. I’ll do our baking, and you worry about getting your entry perfect.”
After stowing her bag, Mary pulled eggs from the cooler and beat them until light and fluffy. She added the yeast and milk mixture, stirred and turned it out onto a floured board and began kneading the dough until it was elastic. She plopped it in a bowl, covered it and set the dough aside to rise.
She glanced over at Noah just as he raised his head from mashing bananas. He nodded and went right back to work. Strange he had said nothing to her. He was usually very talkative. Had Bishop Yoder said something to him?
Mary brushed that thought aside. She grabbed fresh strawberries, cleaned them, added sugar, a little water, and cooked the fruit down into a thick syrup. Ach, she forgot to add the lemon juice. She turned the fire down and hurried to the refrigerator.
A scorching aroma filled the kitchen as she slammed the fridge door closed and ran back to the stove. She jerked the pan off the burner and noticed she’d turned the flame up instead of down. Burnt!
She glanced at Noah. He didn’t acknowledge the mistake. Any other time, he would have teased her. She missed his verbal quips. They broke up the day and made standing on her feet fun...because it was with him.
Grabbing another bag of strawberries, she started over. Her hand was shaking as she stirred the sauce over a low heat.
Amanda patted her on the back. “You’ve got this. Relax!”
When the sauce was at the right temperature and thickened, Mary removed it from the heat and set it to cool. She started the cream cheese filling and whipped it until it was light and fluffy.
She rolled out the dough into a flat rectangle, added her filling, rolled it into a log and cut the rolls into one-inch slices. When they had finished rising, Mary popped them in the oven. This had to win...it just had to.
Fifteen minutes later, she pulled the rolls from the oven and set them on a rack to cool. After a few minutes, she eased a roll off the jellyroll pan with a spatula, set it on a plate and handed it to Amanda.
Amanda took a bite and then another. “Ach. This is so delicious I could eat the whole pan. P-e-r-f-e-c-t.” She waved her fork. “This should put you in the finalist category.”
Mary heaved a sigh. “Danki.”
“Congratulations,” Noah said as he walked past them and out the swinging door to the front of the store.
Amanda peered over her shoulder at the door. “What happened? Did you two get into a fight?”
“Nein. Yesterday, we dropped off some supplies at Lazy Susan’s. We had a piece of pie, and Bishop Yoder walked in and interrupted us. Noah left, and the bishop told me since I had been baptized and joined church, I shouldn’t be dating an Englischer. Or what appeared that way.”
“Mary, I’m sorry.”
“Nein, it’s for the best. We were getting too close, and it was going to lead to someone getting hurt. The bishop was right.”
“What? I never thought I’d ever hear you say the bishop’s advice was right. Did he say something to Noah, too? He’s acting strange,” Amanda whispered.
“Not that I know of. But I think by the look the bishop gave Noah, he got the idea I was in big trouble, and he should stay away. I’m moving the bakery out next week so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Okay, so we need to get busy. What time do you have to take the rolls over?”
“They have to be there by 2:00 p.m. So I need to get going.” Mary carefully boxed up a dozen of her strawberry rolls. When she closed the kitchen door behind her, she paused.
Dear Heavenly Father, please bless my offering. I pray that it is a worthy entry and part of Your plan for me. Amen.
* * *
Noah rushed into the kitchen and looked around. Amanda stood at the sink, her back to him washing pans. “Where’s Mary?” His words jumped out a bit too demanding.
Amanda jerked around. “She left to take her rolls over to be judged.”
“When did she leave?”
“She just walked out the door. She had to hitch King, so she might still be at the corral. Why? Something wrong?”
“Jenny got a ride home from school to spend the weekend, but she borrowed the SUV to go visit friends. And I just noticed that I misread the judging time—it’s not 3:00 p.m, it’s 2:00 p.m. In fifteen minutes.”
Amanda dried her hands and yelled. “Get your entry, and I’ll run out and see if I can stop her.”
He ran to the pantry, pulled a box off the shelf and set his banana cake inside. He darted out the door and headed across the street to the corral.
Mary was still waiting. “Hurry, Noah!” He climbed in, and before he could sit, she tapped the reins against King’s back. The horse shot off down the street and threw Noah against the back of the seat. He righted himself and settled back, his hand still grasping the box. “Thanks for waiting.”
Silence stretched across the buggy.
Finally, Mary glanced at him. “Yesterday, the bishop reminded me that I was a baptized member of the church. That means I have an obligation to my vow.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
Mary turned the buggy, set King at a fast trot down Ninth Street, pulled on the reins and stopped King by the contest booth. Noah jumped down, and Mary followed, grasping her entry.
When they reached the sidewalk next to the judging tent, Bishop Yoder was standing there watching them as they approached. Mary nodded to him and entered the tent behind Noah. They joined the registration line just as a contest worker closed the tent flap.
One glance at Mary’s ashen face told Noah he’d gotten her into some serious trouble. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll stay a while and find my own way home.”
She nodded. “Danki. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. I understand.” He regretted having to ask her for a ride.
On his way out of the tent, he spied Mary talking to the bishop.
The bishop glanced over Mary’s shoulder at Noah with a stare that spoke volumes. Yes, he understood. He needed to stay away from her.
* * *
Early Friday morning, Mary unlocked the back door of the store and hung her bag. The kitchen had a strangeness hanging in the air. Noah stood at the counter stirring up something, and Amanda was at the sink washing dishes. Neither one greeted her. What was going on? As she headed to the pantry, Mary noticed the open newspaper on a chair. She glanced at it and stopped. The bold headline popped out.
Finalists Announced for the Kalona Fall Apple Festival Baking Contest
Her hand shook as she reached for the paper. The kitchen went silent. Mary drew in a deep breath as her eyes searched the column for the list of categories and winners.
1) Breads, rolls, scones:
Lilly Wiggs
Mary Brenneman
Timothy Jenkins
2) Pies, strudels, cakes:
Don Thompson
Noah Miller
Theresa Vogel
3) Cookies, cupcakes, bars:
Carlos Vegas
Clara Schnowsky
Cynthia Návar
Mary gasped. “Oh, no!”
“What’s wrong, didn’t you see your name?” Amanda hurried to her side.
“Yes, I see it, but one of the other finalists is Cynthia Návar. She’s a pastry chef from Chicago, and she won the contest last year. Clara Schnowsky is a well-known chef from Des Moines.”
Mary read the whole article then laid the paper back on the chair. “What are you making for the second round, Noah?”
“Apple strudel.” He glanced up at her as h
e worked.
“Gut, I’m making apple bars.”
“Don’t worry.” Amanda patted her shoulder. “You’re a fabulous baker, and you can compete with the best of them.”
“I hate dumping all the work on you.”
“Nonsense. If you lose the bakery, I’m out of a job. I came in early because I knew you’d be a finalist in your category. So get baking, that cake will need to be perfect to take you to the final round.”
“Danki, Amanda.”
Noah opened the oven door, pulled out two dishes of apple strudel and set them in a corner to cool. “Amanda, I made two. When they cool, would you taste one and tell me what you think?”
“Of course, but aren’t you afraid I might be biased?”
“That never occurred to me. Would you rather not do it since Mary is entering?”
“I’m only kidding. I’d love to taste yours. It smells gut, and I’ll give you my honest opinion.”
Heavy footfalls approached the kitchen from the grocery and Ethan poked his head around the doorway. “Here you are, Amanda. I thought you might be out front working.” He sauntered up to her side, “Would you like to go to the festival with me tonight?”
Amanda smiled. “Jah, that would be nice.”
“I’ll stop back when you get off work.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Ethan turned to leave but paused. “Noah, I thought you’d be out at your grossdaddi’s farm.”
Noah lifted his head for a second but worked while he talked. “I’ve got a lot to do with all the festival baking, and I’m entered in the baking contest. What made you think I’d be at my grandpa’s farm?”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “I thought you knew. A cow was stuck in the mud. Your grandpa was out in the lot by himself and tried to help the old girl. The bossy lost her footing and fell on him. He lay there a long time. The bishop was called, and he told my daed.”
Noah dropped the pan he was holding. “Is he dead?”
“Nein, but he’s hurt bad. They think he broke his back. Your grandma went to look for him. When she found him, she called for help. He’s in the hospital in Iowa City last I heard.”
Noah tore off his apron and washed his hands. “Thanks for letting me know. When did it happen?”
“Yesterday, I think.”
“Mary, I’m going to see my grandfather.” His voice strained with concern.
“Okay, but what about your entry?”
He tossed her a glance. “When you go, would you mind entering it for me?” He grabbed his hat and keys off the hook that held them and headed for the back door.
“Jah, I can do that and pray.” His sad eyes nearly squeezed the breath from her.
“Danki for stopping, Ethan. I’ll see you later.” Amanda patted his shoulder as he, too, headed for the back door.
“Danki, for bringing the news, Ethan. I know Noah really appreciated it.” Mary recognized the look on Noah’s face when he left. Sarah had a rough time having the twins and scared them all. Jah, she’d pray and keep her hands busy until he returned with the update on his grossdaddi.
She pulled the ingredients and stirred up two pans of apple bars. While they baked, she cleaned up the kitchen and whipped cinnamon into the cream.
Amanda watched as the cream foamed nice and high. “Won’t that melt before they get it judged?”
“I asked, and they said I can take the whipped cream in a small cooler, set it by the bars and add a note asking the judges to add the topping.”
“You’re taking a big chance with that idea.” Amanda’s voice held a skeptical warning.
“I know, but it’s delicious. Have you tried Noah’s strudel yet?”
“No. I’ll try it right now.” She sliced a piece and sat it on a plate. “It smells gut.” She took a bite, blinked then took another bite. Amanda looked at the strudel as if it had an odd taste.
“What’s wrong? Isn’t it fully baked?”
Amanda looked at Mary, her eyes as wide as if she’d seen a bear. “It tastes as delicious as your apple strudel. In fact, it tastes like yours. Maybe better.”
Chapter Nineteen
Noah asked at the hospital’s front desk for the room number of Thomas Miller. He found the room, knocked on the door and entered when his grandmother called, “Come in.”
He slowly walked to his grandfather’s bed. Cyrus and Judith were sitting in chairs off to the side by the window. Grandpa’s eyes were open slightly, but his parted lips indicated he was ready for sleep.
Noah stood by the bed rail. “How do you feel? What happened? Ethan said a cow fell on you.”
The old man looked frail. Days ago, when Noah had visited, he’d looked healthy, strong, and even ten years younger. Now, just a few days later, age had caught up with him.
Grandpa’s eyelids popped opened. “The cow’s hooves had sunk in the mud, and she couldn’t lift them out. When I tried to push her, she rocked back, slipped in the mud and pushed me down. She managed to get up off me, but I couldn’t stand. My back hurt too badly. I managed to pull myself over to the gate and crawled through it, but I lay on the ground until Anna came.” His eyes fluttered closed as if the talking had expended all his energy.
Noah sat in the chair beside his grandmother so he’d be close to the bed. He leaned toward her. “What’s wrong with him? Did he break his back?”
“Nein, he was blessed. The Lord was with him and saw to it that he could maneuver out of the pen. He cracked three ribs. It hurts him to take deep breaths and move. They said six weeks to mend, but he will have restrictions on his activities. They’re going to give him respiratory therapy to teach him breathing techniques to reduce the pain.”
Noah leaned closer to the bed. “Grandpa, I’ll come out and help you farm until you get healed.”
Thomas tried to rise, then winced and fell back down. He gritted his teeth, gulped a breath and blew it out slowly. “Jeremiah never bothered to do his duty. You don’t need to help me, either.”
The words hit Noah like a wrecking ball, stunning him for a second. “I can’t help what my dad did or how he treated you. That was between you and him.”
Cyrus walked over to the bed. “Noah, I think it’s time you left. He doesn’t need all this stress and strain. You’re not wanted here.”
Noah scanned his grandfather’s face. “I love you and want to help no matter what you think. I don’t know why Dad left you to do the work by yourself, but it doesn’t sound like him. Dad worked day and night in the store. He was a dedicated, hardworking man.” Noah swallowed hard. “The man you talk about wasn’t the man I knew. Maybe he matured over the years. But I loved him, and I’m willing to forgive as God says I must do. Everyone says you Amish are gentle and forgiving, but I don’t see it. You’re vindictive, spiteful and unforgiving.”
Cyrus moved a step closer to Noah. “I think it’s time you left.” He pointed to the door.
“I want to talk to Noah. Sit down, Cyrus, and don’t interfere.” Grandpa glanced up and put one hand on the bed railing. “The family jumped to conclusions the day your father left. Except, he didn’t just leave. I threw him off the property and told him never to come back. Jeremiah had been working with my father at his bakery. The bakery that Joshua Lapp, Sarah Brenneman’s daed, and my father owned for a short time together. Jeremiah told me that morning on the barn roof that he didn’t want to farm with me. He wanted to own a store and bakery. He said Cyrus and I could farm together. Cyrus and I have never seen eye to eye on anything.”
Cyrus let out a loud huff but never said a word.
Grandpa gripped the railing and took another breath. “I told Jeremiah to get off the farm and never come back. He did just that. I never saw him again. I’m ashamed of myself.” His voice trailed off, and tears streamed down the old man’s cheek. He finally brushed them away with a trembling hand.
Noah stood and strolled closer to the old man’s bed. His grandpa’s eyelids fluttered shut then opened and shut again. “Grandpa,” he said quietly, “I’m going to go so you can sleep, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”
The old man’s head nodded slightly.
Closing the door, Noah rested his back against it for a few seconds, trying to absorb a new truth. He pushed himself away, his knees trembling, but he managed the distance to his vehicle.
Noah rested his hands on the steering wheel, letting the amazement of his grandfather’s confession wash over him. He slid the gearshift to Drive, hit the gas and eased out into traffic. He thanked God all the way back to Kalona for finally lifting the veil and revealing the truth.
He squeezed the steering wheel as another truth swirled around in his heart. He should have been Amish instead of Englisch. Everything that he was familiar and comfortable with his whole life was a lie.
* * *
Mary rushed to drop off her bars and Noah’s strudel at the judging tent and raced back to get started practicing for the last round, in case she won this round. Her hands shook as she pulled her pie out of the oven. Amanda said Noah’s strudel was better than hers and that made her nervous.
Amanda stepped back. “Be careful you don’t drop that. Is something wrong?”
“I’m afraid my pie won’t have an exceptional enough taste to win the contest.”
“Nein. Stop doubting yourself. You are every bit as gut as Noah. You can do this.” Amanda cheered as she dried a plate.
Ethan burst through the kitchen door. “Sorry, I’m late, Amanda, I got held up doing chores. The buggy is waiting out back.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
Mary’s gaze shifted from the door to Amanda. “Ethan really is taking you to the festival then?”
“Nein, he’s not taking me, we’re just going together.”
“I heard him ask you. It sounded like a date to me.”
Amanda finished drying dishes and putting them away. “He’s never really called me a freundin, but I’ll soon be twenty-one, an old maid. He might just be hanging around waiting for Jenny to show up so he can talk to her.” Her voice quaked.
The Amish Baker's Rival Page 15
