Sarah turned off the coffee pot just before closing and cleaned it. When the bakery was empty, Caleb and Jacob took a break and came to the front of the shop for their treat.
Caleb held up his brownie. “These are gut. So are the lemon bars.”
Jacob nodded.
Sarah grabbed a napkin and wiped chocolate off one side of Jacob’s mouth and lemon off the other side. The enticement was too great. She snatched a brownie off the tray and popped it into her mouth. When the doorbell jingled, she turned in time to see the bishop enter.
She cringed as she met him at the counter. “What can I help you with, Bishop Yoder? We are about to close.”
“I wanted to talk with you, Sarah.” He glanced at the table area.
“I’m having repairs done in the kitchen.” She gestured toward the back. “The repairmen are here now. Could we do it another time, say tomorrow?”
“Jah, I guess it will wait until then.” He scowled at her as he walked out.
Sarah followed him to the door, turned the dead bolt and flipped the sign to Closed.
As she headed back to the table, a knock sounded on the door.
Startled, she slowly twisted around. She blew out a long breath and ran to the door. “Bertha, we’re closed.”
“Jah, but I was wondering if I could give you a special order for tomorrow.”
“Of course. Come in.” Sarah took the order, ushered Bertha out and locked back up while Caleb and Jacob returned to the kitchen. She gazed out over the near-empty street, anxiety washing over her. The bishop’s visit flashed back to her. What could he want? Had he too found out about her going to Caleb’s farm? Helping someone in need was not wrong. So why did her insides whisper something different?
She glanced toward the kitchen, where Caleb and Jacob were finishing their work. Would the bishop make her choose between the Brennemans and her faith? A dread wrapped around her heart.
Sarah had a mess to clean up, and she didn’t mean just the kitchen. Before meeting with the bishop, she had to decide what mattered most: Caleb and his family, or her faith and her family...
She let out a deep sigh. They were only friends. Why did she have to give them up? Jah, she knew the bishop was afraid her friendship with Caleb would turn into something more.
The thing was...she was afraid it wouldn’t.
If she chose her faith and her family, it meant life without Caleb and Jacob. She couldn’t choose Caleb and leave her church or she’d be shunned.
Hannah entered the room brushing her hands over her apron. “What did the bishop want?”
“To talk to me. He noticed Caleb and Jacob were here and decided to wait until tomorrow.”
Hannah glanced back at the open kitchen door and whispered. “Think he knows you went out to the farm and watched the kinner?”
“I’m sure he’s heard a story embellished by people who think they know what’s what. Two buggies went by while I was outside at the farm.”
“I have some news to tell you before someone else does.” Hannah wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder.
Sarah’s back stiffened. “What else are they dishing out about me? Your tone is scaring me.”
“Sorry. It isn’t bad news. Well, maybe bad for me, but gut for your bruder. I heard Turner has been seeing Naomi Flickinger.”
Sarah gasped. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me. Courting is supposed to be secret, but I’m his sister.” Sarah pressed a hand to her heart. “Nein. I don’t believe that.”
“Who knows? Maybe it’s not true,” Hannah said. “Maybe he’s making her cupboards or hanging new doors.”
“Jah. We’ll see. They could be talking about Turner like they do me. The gossips need someone to wag their tongues about since it’s a small town and they have nothing else to do.”
“What are you going to say when the bishop comes back? Have you decided?” Worry threaded through each of Hannah’s words.
Sarah froze. “I’ve delayed making the decision, hoping it’d take care of itself.”
“Oh, Sarah.” Hannah folded her friend into a hug and held her there for several minutes. “If the bishop decides upon discipline, and you don’t confess, the Amish won’t come to the bakery.”
“I know, but we get hundreds of tourists, at least during seven months of the year, and maybe longer if it’s not too cold during the holidays. I’m praying for a long tourist season so I can save enough money for the winter months.”
“You know...if you’re shunned, I can’t work here.” Hannah’s voice quaked.
Silence stretched out between them. “Jah. I was trying not to think about it. The man is Amish. So why should it be such a big deal?”
“He’s New Order, and a lot of what they believe is against our Ordnung,” Hannah whispered.
“I’m not marrying Alvin. I just can’t.” Tears clouded her vision. She blinked them back. “Why should they bully me with something so important? It’s as if they’re not thinking of my needs, only his. I know our faith believes we must give of ourselves to our community, but not my whole life.”
Sarah never thought it would go this far. Never thought she’d see Caleb again. Blindly she hoped Alvin would give up.
Caleb’s footsteps echoed over the flooring as he stepped to the side to maneuver his toolbox through the kitchen doorway. As he walked toward the front of the bakery, his tools clanked in the toolbox.
Hannah wrapped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders and squeezed. “I’ll go talk to Jacob and finish in the kitchen so we can go.”
Caleb wore a confident smile. “All done. The cupboard doors are now solid. The racks are up, and we work cheap. A dessert should finish the payment.”
“Okay, but I owe you more than that, Caleb.”
“Nein. You were at the house all day and night with my kinner.”
Jah, and Abraham would never let her forget it...unless she confessed.
The question was, would the bishop forget it if she confessed? Or would he insist she marry Alvin?
* * *
Caleb stood so close to Sarah, he could reach out and touch her. Nein. Pull her into his arms and press a kiss to her lips. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He set his toolbox on the bakery floor and blotted his brow with his shirtsleeve.
His tongue felt like dried shoe leather with Sarah so near. He wasn’t sure he could even form a word. He raised his gaze from her lips to her eyes.
Sarah’s voice hitched a bit. “I set the desserts in the cooler in the kitchen. You can take your pick.”
Caleb followed Sarah to the cooler and let a cool blast of air hit him. He drew in a deep breath. “What I’d really like for my dessert is to go on a picnic with you Sunday afternoon.”
She smiled at him. “Do you want me to bring the dessert then, or will you take it now?”
“Bring it to the picnic. Jacob and I will fetch you early Sunday morning so you can attend Sunday school with us.”
“I’ll be ready.” A blush rose to her cheeks, but it made her look even more fetching to Caleb.
* * *
Sarah locked the bakery door and hurried to catch Turner at his woodworking shop. As she drew closer, a faint light was visible in the back of his building. She knocked on the side door and tried the handle.
Locked.
She knocked harder. He lived in the back, and the light was on, so he should be there. Maybe he’d stepped out?
She tapped louder.
Faint footsteps came toward the door, and then it opened. “Sarah, what are you doing here?” Turner’s voice sounded surprised.
“If you have a few minutes, I need to talk with you.”
“If it’s about repairs, I’m working on a big order, so I can’t do them right away.”
“Nein. A friend did the repairs. Can I come in a minute?” Turner stood in fr
ont of the doorway, as if he were too busy to see her.
“For a minute. I’m still working in the shop.” He stepped back.
“Bishop Yoder is pestering me about marrying Alvin Studer. I don’t want to marry Alvin. I heard he hit his late frau.”
“Don’t believe that. Alvin is a quiet man. A hard worker. He owns a large farm and hires many youngies to help him work it. He’ll make you a gut ehemann. Stop worrying. You won’t need to run the bakery anymore.”
She gasped. “I liebe the bakery. I don’t plan to quit working there.”
“What are you here for then?” His abruptness cut her off. He huffed so hard, it stirred the hair at her temples.
“The bishop stopped by before closing, but with so many still at the bakery, I told him to come back tomorrow. You should know, when Caleb Brenneman’s bruder was in an accident and in a coma, I went to his farm and watched his kinner while he went to the hospital and sat with his sister-in-law and bruder. I think Bishop Yoder either wants to discipline me or wants me to marry Alvin. I want you to tell the bishop that I’m not going to marry Alvin.”
Turner squinted at her against the darkened hallway. He lowered his chin and focused back on her. “Alvin is a decent man. He’s in our Order, and Caleb Brenneman is not. You should help people in your own district and let Caleb’s church help his family.”
Sarah stepped back. She couldn’t believe he had said that. He was as strict as Daed. Daed had insisted she marry Samuel but she hadn’t minded. He was a gut man, a fair man, but a typical strict Amish man.
“I will not talk to the bishop for you, Sarah. Get that out of your head. I warned you about your actions. Now you must deal with the consequences.”
She opened the door, slipped through and closed the door behind her. When they were kinner, Turner had always stood up for her.
Apparently not anymore.
Chapter Eight
Sarah carefully turned the bakery sign to Open and glanced up the street to see if the bishop was heading in this direction. Ominous dark clouds hung overhead and a cold April drizzle coated the lamppost. It looked black and sinister as it covered the sidewalk and street.
She craned her neck. No one was out driving yet. Maybe the inclement weather would force the bishop to cancel his visit.
Sarah poured herself a mug of coffee, took a sip and checked the front window. She jerked back, almost spilling the hot brew. The bishop had parked his buggy and was heading toward the bakery door.
He slipped off his coat and hat and hung them on a hook. He motioned to a table. “Sarah, join me.”
She gulped a mouthful of coffee, dribbling a few drops out the corner of her parted lips and down her chin. She grabbed a napkin and blotted the moisture. Her body reluctantly moved, like the time Daed had asked her to pull a switch from a tree so he could discipline her.
She poured the bishop a cup of medium-roast, hoping it would help soften his mood. “Bishop Yoder, I wasn’t sure anyone would risk the streets today.” She set the cup in front of him. “Haven’t had any customers, but I have plenty of coffee.”
He glared at her as she sat opposite him. “Alvin should be here soon.”
His words knocked the wind out of her. She dragged in a ragged breath and tried to calm her racing pulse.
The bishop reached out with his fingertips and tapped the table twice. “We live our lives for Jesus Christ. As Christ gave up his life for us, we too must sacrifice. We must yield our will to Gott’s will.”
Jah, she understood that, but how did the bishop know that Gott wanted her to marry Alvin?
The bishop straightened his back. “To be part of the church district means we must give up what is personal and selfish. We live in a community and give of ourselves to that community.”
She gulped. “Bishop Yoder, I don’t want to be Alvin’s wife. Ever.”
“You don’t believe in community?”
“Of course I do. I work at church events and at barn raisings. When someone is sick or injured, I help.”
“Jah.” He nodded. “I understand. You just need to spend time with Alvin because you do not know him well enough. That is perfectly normal. Get to know him and his kinner. You’ll feel differently.”
Sarah stared at the bishop in disbelief. He’s insisting I court Alvin!
The bakery door opened and out of the corner of her eye, she could see a man enter. Her heart raced.
Alvin.
Her whole body went numb as Alvin slipped around behind her.
He pulled out the chair on her left. “Gut mornin’, Sarah.” The words fell off his silky tongue.
“Jah.” It was the only word she could form out of her mouth.
“Alvin was wondering if you would grant him permission to court you,” the bishop blurted out.
She was stunned. How could she reply to that? Did she disobey the bishop and not give Alvin a chance?
Daggers stabbed at her heart as she slouched against the back of the chair. If she courted Alvin, she couldn’t see Caleb and his family again.
The door banged open and Bertha Bontrager burst through like a bulldozer. She removed her bonnet and hung it on the coatrack. “It’s not fit for car or buggy this morning.” She laughed.
“Mornin’, Bertha. I thought maybe you’d pick up your order later today or tomorrow with the weather so bad.” Sarah rose from the table and nodded at the bishop. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Sarah pointed toward the kitchen. “Your order is in the back.”
“No hurry.”
When she returned to the front of the bakery, Bertha was sitting at the table with Alvin and the bishop. She sat the order on the table. “Coffee, Bertha?”
“Jah. And a cinnamon-swirl roll, please.”
Sarah took her time pouring the coffee. There was one large swirl, the last one made. She had been planning to save it for a male customer that came in, but it’d take a woman a while to eat.
Sarah slid the cinnamon swirl on a plate and placed it and a cup of coffee in front of Bertha while she listened to her describing the slick and dangerous conditions of the road coming into town. Brushing off the temptation to disappear back into the kitchen, Sarah silently prayed Bertha would stay as long as Alvin did.
Fifteen minutes later, Melinda Miller bumped the door open with her hip. She held her boppli in her arms and tried to keep the blowing rain off their faces while she maneuvered over the threshold.
Danki, Lord. Sarah stood and rushed to help Melinda.
The bishop pushed his chair back, scraping the floor with its wooden legs, tipped his hat to Sarah and headed out the door.
“Have a nice day, Bishop Yoder.” Sarah almost sang the words but reined in her glee.
As Alvin pushed back his chair, Bertha stood with him. “Later today, I’ll bring a casserole by for those six kinner of yours.”
Alvin smiled and nodded. “Danki, Bertha.”
After the bakery was empty, Hannah stepped out front. “Go on a buggy ride with Alvin and explain how you feel. Tell him you’re still in love with Samuel.”
“Jah, like that’s going to stop him. He has six reasons and a houseful of work not to care what I think. He might not care if I like him or not.”
* * *
Caleb’s heart galloped when Sarah sat next to him. The buggy swayed as it hit a bump, and he hoped it would move her closer. He liked the feel of her sitting next to him.
When they arrived, he introduced Sarah to everyone at Sunday school. The women had brought breakfast casseroles, biscuits and jam to eat before they started their Bible study. Sarah mingled with the women. She knew most of them, probably from the bakery. Sarah expressed an interest in learning about assurance of salvation, something the Old Order didn’t view as necessary, and he hoped she would keep coming back to Bible study. Maybe it would persuade her to join h
is church.
Yet if his tochter didn’t accept Sarah, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. He wanted his kinner to like the woman he might choose as his frau. He’d wait until after the picnic with his kinner to get Mary’s reaction.
He leaned closer to Sarah as he shared his lesson book and Bible with her. She smelled of lilacs and springtime. She read scripture and discussed it with the group. She listened to the others and contributed from her experience. Her faith was sound and he could tell she had a deep liebe for Gott. When they stood to leave, everyone invited her to come back again.
Deep inside Caleb, tiny sprouts of feelings for her had blossomed.
* * *
Sarah tilted her head back and let the sunbeams shower her with warmth. The kinner were excited about the picnic. Mary acted less sulky and even chatted with her the whole time they laid out the picnic. It wasn’t much, but she hoped it was a start to friendship.
When the picnic was over, Sarah hurried to wrap the food and place it in the basket while Caleb and the kinner set up the volleyball net. “Girls against guys,” she yelled out.
“Jah,” Caleb grinned. “If the girls lose, they have to make the guys their favorite meal with dessert.”
Jacob squealed. “We are going to win, Daed.”
“Okay,” Mary chimed in. “But if the girls win, they get to pick a chore the guys have to do for them.”
Caleb nodded in agreement. “Girls can go first.”
Sarah served the ball over the net and Caleb returned it. Back and forth it went. First one team scored a point, then the other.
“You hit like an old man, Jacob,” Mary teased.
“I do not.” Jacob smacked the ball with all his energy and watched it sail over Mary’s head to win the guys a point and the game.
Sarah checked the time. “I’ve had a great afternoon, but I need to get home. Pick a day this week, and Mary and I will make dinner.”
On the way home, Sarah stole glances at Caleb, while his attention focused on maneuvering the buggy along the rough road. He had his straw hat pulled low over his forehead, shading his square jaw and powerful chin. His beard looked freshly trimmed and attractive. Her heart nearly skipped a beat.
The Amish Baker Page 7