The Amish Baker
Page 4
“Sweetie.” Sarah looked at Jacob and whispered. “When we talked about you working in the bakery, I meant when you had grown and finished school.”
“But you said you worked in your daed’s bakery every day after school and liked it because you were in a family. I want to be part of a family, too.” His tiny voice started to tremble.
“I’m sorry that you misunderstood.”
Sarah raised her eyes to Caleb, imploring his help. She realized Jacob was desperately seeking what he’d lost, and her heart was breaking for him.
Caleb remained silent. By the pitiful look on his face, it was as if his sohn had asked for a divorce from his family.
* * *
Jacob’s words sliced through Caleb’s heart like a steel blade, then plunged to the very depth of his soul.
A shiver coursed through his body. After Martha’s death, he’d stayed late in the fields and lingered cleaning tools so exhaustion would consume him at bedtime. That helped Caleb deal with the grief. But without giving it a thought, he’d let his kinner struggle with their mamm’s death on their own. What had he been thinking? Then he’d scolded Jacob when he relaxed by the pond. Instead, he should have taken a few minutes to lie with the bu in the grass.
He reached over, enfolded Jacob’s hand into his and squeezed gently. “Jacob, we can’t ask Sarah to let you live with her. She is busy with her bakery and probably doesn’t have an extra bedroom in her apartment.”
“But, Daed, I could help her and sleep in her bakery.”
“Nein, that won’t work, Jacob. You can’t sleep in the bakery. When she needs help, I will drive you into town to help her. I know Sarah is your friend and you would like to spend more time with her. What would you say if we invited her out to our farm for dinner next Sunday?”
His face glowed. “Jah, okay.”
“Sarah. If you are available for dinner, Jacob and I would be honored to drive into Kalona and escort you to our home.”
“Jah, I would like datt.” She turned toward Jacob. “When I come to your house, I’ll scrub your sink full of pans.”
Jacob laughed. “Okay, but I’ll help you.”
“Datt sounds gut. Go tell Hannah I said for her to bag some cookies for you to take home.” Jacob ran to the back of the bakery.
“Caleb, I’m so sorry. Jacob and I were having a casual conversation as we worked. I told him about working with my family in the bakery after school. I didn’t realize he took it a different way. What I didn’t tell Jacob was my daed was very strict and my bruder and I worked hard from a very early age. But I liked helping in the bakery and didn’t mind.”
“I understand. Jacob’s mamm died a year ago, and he still misses her. Martha’s death had a devastating impact on the bu, and I failed to notice it. I stay in the fields too late and don’t spend enough time with the kinner. That’ll change.” He stood, retrieved his hat from the peg and nodded to Sarah as he headed for the door.
Jacob dragged his feet as he made his way to the front of the bakery, a smile touching the corners of the bu’s mouth as he said goodbye to Sarah, but it disappeared and was replaced by a sadness that Caleb worried wouldn’t go away.
* * *
Caleb followed Jacob into the house, hurrying to catch up. For a six-year-old, he could surely outrun his daed.
Jacob held the sack up. “Mary, I have some cookies from the bakery. We can share.”
Mary shrugged at her brother, rolled her eyes, then finished making a pie and placed it in the oven.
“Guess what, Mary? Sarah is coming to dinner next Sunday, and we get to cook for her!”
Mary stopped and glared at Jacob. “Is that so? Am I the one who will be cooking dinner?”
Caleb cleared his throat. “We will all make dinner together for our guest. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”
“You mean your guest.” She shoved the laundry basket of clothes she’d been folding to the corner. Then grabbed the pot holders and pulled the cornbread out of the oven.
The assault of ammonia and floor cleaner tipped Caleb off to how hard Mary had been working since they took off for town. The house was clean, the table set for dinner, and the steamy whiff of ham and candied sweet potatoes smelled gut.
He hadn’t noticed before, but Mary’s feelings were sensitive, too. She’d had a deep attachment to her mamm, and bringing another woman into her home was going to meet with resistance, no doubt.
Mary was a thirteen-year-old going on thirty. She never complained; she just did what had to be done. Caleb moved out of her way as she dished up dinner in silence. He hung his hat on a peg by the door and dragged his hand through his hair to smooth it down. Apparently neither Jacob nor Mary was happy. Their lives had fallen apart since Martha’s death, and it was all his fault.
He had to give his kinner a loving home. Martha would have been disappointed in his behavior. He treated Mary and Jacob like adults. He needed to let them be kinner. Maybe he could hire someone occasionally to help with the household chores.
The next morning Caleb tried to help Mary whenever he could. He made Jacob pick up more responsibility around the house, as well. The week passed with little complaining or talking of any kind from Mary. She said what was necessary and not a word more.
On Saturday Caleb watched as Jacob helped make sugar cookies. He dusted the table with flour, as Mary did. Rolled out his dough and used a round cookie cutter to stamp out shapes. Caleb walked over to survey the work, his shoes crunching over the sugarcoated wood flooring.
“When I grow up, Mary, I’m going to work with Sarah in her bakery.” Jacob slid a spatula under the dough and set each cookie on a baking sheet.
Mary glanced at Jacob and rolled her eyes.
Caleb prayed Sunday dinner would go off without any problems.
* * *
On Sunday Caleb peeled and cut potatoes and carrots while Mary prepared the roast. When everything was almost ready, he and Jacob hitched Snowball and rode to Kalona to fetch Sarah. The whole way there, Jacob made plans for Sarah’s visit.
Yet a slight uneasiness bubbled in Caleb’s belly. Mary had offered no conversation while they worked in the kitchen this morning. Was she still brooding about cooking for their guest?
When they pulled up, Sarah was ready in front of the bakery. Caleb walked her to the buggy. Just as she stepped up to the carriage, she jerked her head at the sound of wheels and horses’ hooves pounding the paved road as a buggy approached.
“Ach. Melinda Miller.” She gave her a wave, then accepted Caleb’s help to step up. “She’ll be sure to tell everyone she saw me getting into your buggy.”
Caleb waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “It’s Visiting Sunday, and you’re going visiting.”
“Jah, that’s true,” she reasoned.
When he pulled into his driveway, Sarah’s gaze bounced from the gardens to the fields. “It’s a lovely farm, Caleb.”
“Danki.” He helped her out of the buggy and escorted her up the porch steps.
Jacob grabbed her hand. “I’ll show you my room.”
Sarah turned and gave Caleb a shrug. “Guess I have a tour guide with an itinerary for the day.”
“Slow down, Jacob. Show Sarah your room while I unhitch Snowball. Then we must eat before anything else. Mary will have dinner ready.” Caleb’s stomach had been rumbling for the past hour, and he didn’t want Mary’s hard work on dinner to go to waste. He hurried to unhook Snowball, walked the horse to his stall and then hurried back to the haus.
Caleb hung his hat on the hook, washed his hands and, while Mary poured the cold milk, he carried the food to the table. “Jacob and Sarah. Time to eat.”
Jacob led his guest to the table and pulled out a chair. “This is where you sit.”
“Danki.” Sarah made herself comfortable.
Caleb motioned to Mary. “This is my tochter,
Mary.” Then he turned to Sarah. “This is Sarah Gingerich from the Amish Sweet Delights bakery.”
Mary gave Sarah a slight nod.
Sarah reached out to shake Mary’s hand, but Mary stepped back. “Sorry, my hand may have grease on it from the roast. I wouldn’t want you to get any on your hands or your dress.”
“Mary. Please wash your hands.” Caleb tossed her a warning look. He knew Mary’s stubborn nature. She wouldn’t warm up to Sarah until she was ready, but he wouldn’t stand for her offensive behavior.
She washed her hands at the sink, came back and offered a hand to Sarah. “Hullo, Sarah. Welkum.” Mary’s words hit their destination like icy pellets.
Caleb exhaled. It was going to be a long afternoon. “Shall we all join hands for prayer?” He said the blessing, then passed the serving platter around the table.
“Ach. New Order Amish pray aloud at the table. We do not.” Sarah gasped.
“Jah. On the off-Sundays when the church doesn’t have preaching, the New Order Amish have open Bible study and Sunday school to deepen our personal relationship with Gott and our assurance of salvation.”
“Ach. Old Order still clings to the adage that only the church interprets scripture, and beyond living a godly life and working hard, we can only have hope of our salvation.” Sarah took a bite of food and turned to Mary. “Mmm, this roast is delicious.”
“Danki.”
“Did your mamm teach you how to cook?”
“Of course.”
The heat from Mary’s rude words burned on Caleb’s cheeks. He’d hoped Mary would like Sarah. Apparently that’s not going to happen. “Sarah, Jacob and I have a little surprise for you after dinner.”
“I like surprises. That sounds like fun.”
When they were finished eating, Sarah jumped up, began clearing the table and carrying the dishes to the sink. Caleb helped Sarah while Mary put the condiments and leftover food away, then joined Sarah at the sink.
“Sit, Caleb, finish your coffee. You too, Mary. You cooked. I’ll wash the dishes.” Sarah motioned them toward the table.
“Danki, but you came to visit with Daed and Jacob. Go visit with them. I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“Nein. We’ll all pitch in to get them done faster. Jacob and I’ll help, too.” Caleb grabbed a dish towel. “I can’t believe you were going to pass up the help, Mary.”
Defiance glowed in Mary’s eyes as they darted at Caleb. But she remained silent.
* * *
Sarah took a step back after the last dish found its way to the cupboard. She understood Mary wasn’t going to let her, or probably any woman, into her kitchen. If Caleb made Mary step aside for a frau, she’d do it, but begrudgingly.
After Jacob finished sweeping the floor clean of crumbs and set the broom away, he ran to Caleb. “Now, Daed?”
“Jah. Now we take Sarah on the tour.” Caleb opened the door and swept his arm toward the outside. “Your tour is about to begin, Frau Gingerich.”
They walked her around the flower and vegetable gardens, then stopped by the barn for her to meet Tiger, the cat. When he rubbed against her leg, she picked him up. “You’re a real beauty.”
He purred in response.
Jacob tugged at her arm as excitement set his feet to prancing. “Come on, we have a surprise.” Jacob walked her to the pen where the newborn calf laid next to his mamm.
“Oh, he is gorgeous.” Sarah gave Caleb a glance when he stood next to her.
The cat jumped out of Sarah’s arms, squeezed through the board fence and rubbed up against the calf.
“Ah, even Tiger likes him.” The innocence of the animals warmed her heart.
“There’s one last place to see. I’ll give you a hint.” Jacob rubbed his chin with his hand like he was deep in thought. “It’s a great spot on a hot day.”
Sarah looked up toward the sky as if really pondering the question, then dropped her gaze back to Jacob. “I have no idea what it is. Lead the way.”
Jacob traipsed through the grass and weeds along the bank to the grove of maple trees by the pond on the edge of the pasture. Jacob pointed to the water, his face beaming.
“Oh! What a wonderful place to relax on the grass.” She looked around. “It’s a beautiful farm, Caleb and Jacob, and so well kept.”
Both their faces glowed with pride.
“I contract the fields of vegetables to canneries, and I grow extra to sell at the auction and market.” He turned around and pointed to the north pasture. “And we have a few milk cows.”
“Jah, I see but it looks like more than a few.”
“About forty.”
“The farm must keep you busy.”
Caleb nodded. “Jah, it does.”
She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He was a handsome man, with a charming way about him. Even with a beard, she could see his strong jaw. She liked his beard. The New Order men kept theirs trimmed, while the Old Order didn’t allow such things. Her stomach fluttered whenever Caleb spoke to her, as though she were a young girl who was in a courtship with a bu. Only, now it was a man with kinner.
“Daed, is it time for cookies?” Jacob turned toward Sarah. “I helped make them.”
“Then I definitely want one.” Sarah wrapped her arm around Jacob’s shoulder. “Lead the way, Mr. Baker.”
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted them when they entered the kitchen. Mary had the cookies and plates on the table. “Mmm, smells gut in here. You are a wunderbaar hostess, Mary.”
“Danki.” Mary nodded as she pulled out a chair from the table and sat.
Dessert was light and quick. And Sarah was thankful. She finished her coffee and cookie, then brushed the crumbs from her skirt.
Caleb excused himself to go hitch the horse to the buggy. “I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes, Sarah.”
“Jah, danki. I’ll be ready.”
Sarah stood. “Goodbye, Mary. I enjoyed meeting you.”
Mary didn’t stand. “Nice to meet you, too, Sarah.” Her tone didn’t match her congenial words.
A cold shimmy worked its way up Sarah’s back. Could it be more obvious? She wasn’t welcome in Mary’s house.
Chapter Five
The ringing of the doorbell pulled Sarah’s attention away from the display case and stopped her urge to eat a pecan roll. Her brother walked through the front door. “Turner, it’s gut to see you.”
He sauntered toward her. “Likewise, sister.”
She dashed around the counter and tugged him into a hug. “Where have you been the past few weeks?”
“The shop keeps me busy.” He tilted his chin up and breathed deeply. “Mmm. I forgot how gut it smells in here. I’ll take one of Papa’s cinnamon-nut rolls and a cup of coffee.”
“Hey, Turner.” Hannah poked her head out of the kitchen doorway. “Quit being a stranger. We miss you.”
“Jah, I’m watching my waistline. Trying to get healthier. Can’t keep eating rolls every day for breakfast.”
“Okay, but don’t talk like that in here, or you’ll ruin our business. It’s a gut thing you’re our first customer.” Hannah laughed as she disappeared back into the kitchen.
Sarah smiled as she listened to their banter. Her unmarried friend had hidden her crush on Turner for years. If he knew, he’d never acted on it these five years since he’d been a widower. She had wanted to let it slip to him, but Hannah made her promise to keep it a secret.
“Here’s your sweet roll. I’ll bring your coffee to the table.” A few minutes later, Sarah set the cup down in front of him.
“Can you sit a minute and talk?” Turner’s face looked serious, like the time he told her that their daed had died.
She pulled out a chair and sat opposite him. “Jah, I can stay until customers start coming. Hannah is baking, so I have to cover the
counter. We miss you. Stop more often, even if you don’t get a roll and coffee.”
“Jah. I’ll try. Sarah, there has been talk around the community about you.”
She stared at her brother. “What talk? You mean about the bakery or me?”
He lowered his voice. “Both. They’re saying a New Order Amish man and his bu have been hanging around the bakery. Word is that you went to his farm. Is that true?”
Her stomach clenched. Melinda Miller saw her getting into Caleb’s buggy, and evidently someone saw her at his farm. “Jah, but it’s not what you’re implying.”
“You should never go to a man’s farm by yourself. What were you thinking?”
“Jacob, Caleb’s sohn broke Samuel’s bears, and Caleb wanted Jacob to work in the bakery to make amends. His mamm died, and he was looking for...” She shifted in her chair.
“For what? A mamm? It looks bad for a woman to go to a man’s farm unescorted. You know that. He’s New Order. You don’t want to marry outside our church. You complain now about not seeing me. Our church would shun you. New Order approves the use of tractors, lawn mowers, inside flush toilets, mechanical milkers, refrigerators and telephones in their homes that are not in accordance with our Ordnung. They’re too progressive. If I ever have a kind, I wouldn’t want him hanging around New Order kinner of families that have these conveniences. They spoil their youngies with those contraptions and get them used to the outside world. Yet it’s the Old Order that boasts around a twenty percent higher youth retention rate.”
Heat worked its way up her neck and burned on her cheeks. Sarah clenched her fists. “We’re only friends. You are blowing this out of proportion. I’m not leaving our church.”
“Watch yourself, sister. Your actions reflect on me, too.” His eyes turned cold and locked with hers.
She held his gaze. “I run a business. They’re customers.”
“Be careful, Sarah. You could get disciplined by the bishop. Then the Amish will avoid your bakery.”
She held her shaking hands up, palms out. “Stop it.”
“Nein. I’m warning you. There’s been talk.” His tone sliced the air like a sharpened knife.