Lemon Tart Mystery

by Naomi Miller

  “Look, Freida. I think we need to leave it alone. If something has happened, Mrs. Simpkins and Mr. O’Neal will work it all out.”

  “Nee, Katie. We need to help them.”

  “Freida, I know how much you want to help,” Katie spoke carefully, weighing each word before she replied, doing her best to be tactful. “But I really think it is for the best to stay out of it. Unless Mrs. Simpkins or Mr. O’Neal asks for our help, we should not interfere.”

  “But Katie—”

  “Nee, Freida. I will not do anything that might hurt Mrs. Simpkins or Mr. O’Neal. We do not know Gott’s plans for them, so how can we know the right thing to do?”

  “Then I guess we must leave it to Gott. You are right, that is the best thing to do. But Katie, you totally ignored mei last question. Are you going to the singing? Do you care about Travis, or is there another buwe that you want to court?”

  “Jah, I plan to go to the singing. But nee, there is no one I am wanting to court—at least for now. And I am not saying anything more about it, so please don’t ask again.”

  “I guess I have to let it go for now anyway, since I need to get home. But I still think you like Travis...”

  And with a smile and a wave, Freida walked away, heading toward her family’s farm.

  Katie shook her head, let out a sigh, and continued on her way home.

  — THREE —

  The next morning, Katie was working on a special order for the Mayor’s wife when Freida walked into the kitchen, her eyes sparkling and a wide smile on her face.

  Katie was preparing to ask what her freind was so excited about—when Mr. O’Neal walked in behind her.

  “Gudemariye, Mr. O'Neal.”

  “And a good day to ya, Katie-girl. That's a fine bit o' work there. You certainly do have a way with the fancy decorating.”

  Katie ducked her head at the compliment, since it also served as a reminder of the trouble she had almost gotten herself into over decorating the window of The Sweet Shop for Christmas.

  “Is Mrs. Simpkins still in her office, Katie?” Freida spoke with such excitement and enthusiasm, Katie wondered what Mr. O'Neal would think.

  Katie simply nodded her head, “Jah, as far as I know.” She knew it would do no good to try to discourage Freida from playing matchmaker with Mr. O'Neal and Mrs. Simpkins.

  Even as a young maedel, Freida had always been trying to match up her freinden and others in the community.

  “Did I hear my name, Katie?” Mrs. Simpkins called out as she came around the corner from her office, stopping abruptly before she reached them all. “Oh, hello.”

  Katie wondered what the reason could be that had turned her employer's voice, normally sweet and friendly, into something strangely unmovable.

  “Good morning to ya, Milly. I was wondering if ya would be wanting to take a bite of lunch with me—say around noon?”

  Katie heard what sounded like a huff from behind her before Mrs. Simpkins replied, her voice full of ice.

  “No, I don't have time for that today.” And without another word, she turned and went back into her office.

  Mr. O'Neal stood there for several seconds, staring after their boss, his expression changing from cheerful to perplexed as he stared in the direction she had disappeared.

  Freida's mouth dropped open and she looked as if she wasn't sure whether to stay—or to run away. Katie was glad her freind was standing behind Mr. O'Neal where he couldn't see the surprised look on her face.

  She had never known her dear, sweet boss to be so abrupt with anyone—ever. Even when The Sweet Shop was broken into several months ago, Mrs. Simpkins had gone out of her way to help the family involved.

  It was a mystery for sure and for certain what Mr. O'Neal, who Katie had thought held a special place in Mrs. Simpkins' heart, could have done to put her in such a mood.

  “Well then, I suppose I had better be getting back to the cafe.” And without looking at either of them, he turned to leave.

  Katie struggled to think of something to say to him, an apology or some sort of explanation about Mrs. Simpkins' odd behavior, but nothing came to mind. A moment later, he was gone.

  “What do you think that was all about, Katie?” Freida's voice came out in a harsh whisper and Katie shushed her before answering.

  “I have no idea, Freida, but this is not our business and we would do best not to get in the middle of it.”

  Freida looked at Katie with an expression somewhere between surprise and hurt, but after a few seconds she nodded and turned to go back to the front of the bakery.

  Katie stood beside the cake she had been decorating—the icing bag still in her hand—for all of thirty seconds, before she turned and followed her freind.

  When she pushed through the swinging doors between the kitchen and the shop, Katie could see that the front room was empty of customers, making it easy to spot Freida, who was busy wiping down a table by the front window.

  Katie walked slowly toward the table, speaking softly as she went. “Freida?”

  Freida looked up at Katie. Speaking quickly, her words tumbled out in a jumble. “I know I am a gossip. I know I talk too much about things I have no business messing about with. I am sorry, Katie. Please forgive me. I did not mean to stick mei nose where it does not belong. You were right to shush me.”

  The sound of a quiet sniffle reached Katie's ears before Freida went on.

  “For sure and for certain, I only wanted to help.”

  “Freida, I came out here, not to be forgiving you, but to ask if you can forgive me.”

  The damp cloth in her hand stilled on the table as Freida looked up at Katie, with a slightly odd expression on her face.

  “Ach, of course I forgive you, Katie.” Freida rushed over to her freind, wrapping Katie in a tight hug. “And will you forgive me for being such a busybody?”

  “You are not such a busybody, but jah, of course I forgive you.”

  “So what do you think happened between—” Freida quickly covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Freida?” Katie prompted.

  Looking a bit sheepish, Freida replied. “Never mind, Katie. I think it's time for me to get back to work.”

  * * *

  “Are you all right, Uncle?”

  Andrew stopped short at the question, looking around the dark cafe until he spotted his nephew seated at a small table in the corner, a thick paperback open in one hand, a cup of tea in the other.

  “Aye, I am. I'm right as rain, Sean.”

  The tilt of one eyebrow and ironic twist of his young nephew's lips told Andrew that Sean did not believe him for one second.

  “Are you sure of that, Uncle?”

  Andrew moved to the table and dropped heavily into the chair across from Sean.

  “Aye, you're right. I'm not all right and I've not the slightest idea what I can do about it.”

  “It's that Mrs. Simpkins, isn't it?”

  Andrew felt his jaw drop open in shock. It took a moment for him to reply. “What do you know about that?”

  “Oh please, Uncle. All anyone has to do to know how you feel about her is to watch the two of you in the same room. A blind man could see it.”

  “Well, then I wish someone would tell me why she canna see it, then.”

  “I think she does see it. She just doesn't want to admit it.” Sean smiled as he sat back.

  “You're thinkin' she doesn't feel the same, then?”

  “I didn't say that. Who knows what women feel... or want...” Sean stopped talking then and looked back down at his book, though it didn't look to Andrew like he was actually reading the words in front of him.

  I wonder what young lass has been giving him a hard time?

  He started to ask, but thought better of it. Clearly Sean did not want him to know anything more about it just now.

  “What do you think I should do about her?”

  Sean looked up, surprise coloring his young features. “If it were me, I would play he
r own game against her.”

  Taken aback by the unexpected answer, Andrew waited a moment before asking, “And just how do I go about that?”

  “Well, I'll tell you what I would do.”

  * * *

  It was hours later when Mrs. Simpkins came back out of her office, walking over to where Katie was putting the finishing touches on the fancy cake.

  “By the way Katie, I was wondering... why are there crates of lemons in the pantry? Did we get a large order—or several orders—that we need an abundance of lemons?”

  “No, ma’am. Actually I was thinking of trying some new desserts. I thought perhaps it would be a gut idea to offer something different for the Memorial Day celebration.”

  After a moment, Amelia looked back toward the store room, then nodded her head. “All right, dear. I’ve always trusted your instincts in these matters. You go ahead with your plans. I'm delighted that you're always thinking of ways to keep our customers happy... and maybe draw in some new ones.”

  Lemon Surprise Cupcakes

  Cupcake Ingredients:

  1 lemon supreme cake mix

  3 large eggs

  2 tsp lemon peel, grated

  ¾ cup water

  1/3 cup unsweetened applesauce

  1½ cups blueberries, fresh

  1 tbsp all-purpose flour

  Frosting Ingredients:

  3½ cups confectioners' sugar

  1-2 tbsp water

  1 tsp lemon extract

  Instructions:

  Preheat oven to 350°F.

  Grease and lightly flour two cupcake pans (making 24 cupcakes. Set aside.

  Using a mixer on low speed, blend the cake mix, eggs, and water a few minutes until smooth and creamy.

  Add lemon zest. Stir lightly until combined.

  Spoon batter evenly into cupcake pans just over halfway.

  Toss half the blueberries in a tablespoon of flour.

  Push 3 blueberries into the center of each cupcake.

  Cover with remaining cake batter.

  Bake for 15-18 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the cupcake comes out clean. (Be careful not to insert toothpick into center of cupcake where blueberries are).

  Remove from the oven and allow to cool before frosting.

  Make the frosting:

  Using a fork, combine confectioners' sugar, 1 tablespoon water, and lemon extract.

  Add ½-1 additional tablespoons of water to thin out, if desired.

  Evenly cover the tops of the cupcakes with frosting.

  Top each cupcake with 2-3 blueberries

  * * *

  Katie usually makes everything from scratch, but when she discovered Mrs. Simpkins wanted to try making one of her new recipes, she thought it would be best to create a recipe using a store-bought cake mix. Of course, she added a few special touches to it, making it a yummy dessert—one that is often requested and is sure to be a favorite of the Abbott Creek community.

  — FOUR —

  Travis drove slowly along the bumpy, unpaved road that led to the Yoder home, thinking of how thankful he was that the close-knit community of plain folks was so giving.

  Like most of the other odd jobs he had done over the last few months, he was certain this one was something that any one of a dozen men in the community would normally have pitched in and done for free.

  However, because Katie and her mom had made their neighbors aware of his family's needs, her neighbors were constantly asking him to come over and help with this or that—and they always insisted on paying him... and sending food home with him as well.

  I owe that girl so much.

  He tried to convince himself that his feelings were nothing more than friendship whenever he started thinking about Katie and how much he enjoyed spending time with her.

  Oh, who am I kidding? What am I gonna do?

  He tried to think about something else... anything else. Fortunately, he spotted the oversized black mailbox that had “Yoder” painted in neat, white block letters beside a long gravel drive and he signaled, slowing down for the turn.

  Fences lined either side of the wide driveway. On one side, there were cows grazing; on the other side were horses. He followed the smooth, gravel drive for awhile before a house came into view.

  His foot eased off the gas pedal as he pulled into a clearing that stretched out in a wide circle in front of a red barn, a collection of smaller buildings, and a white house with blue shutters. The house stood against the green landscape like something from a postcard or a painting.

  There was a peace in the simplicity of the surroundings for as far as he could see; the clear blue sky and thick white clouds were unspoiled by towering wooden poles with miles of wires carrying electricity to houses and businesses.

  A knock on his window startled Travis and the car lurched beneath him and stalled when his foot pressed the brake pedal. In his haste he had forgotten the clutch.

  He shook his head as the person outside his window started laughing. He didn't even bother to look to see which Yoder it was at his window, especially since the only one he knew by name was Jake. He started the car again, being sure to engage the clutch.

  “Yeah... yeah... I'm just a riot.” He muttered to himself as he pulled over to the obvious parking area beside the barn.

  By the time he had parked and gotten out of the car, three other Yoder boys had joined their brother in the driveway—and two of them were laughing with him.

  Jake, however, was not one of the faces he saw. He came striding out of the barn a minute later, removing a thick pair of work gloves as he walked toward Travis and the other boys.

  “Timothy, Levi, I believe you still have stalls to muck out. Thomas, you really ought to get that milk in to Mamm right away. And Samuel, those chickens are not going to feed themselves.”

  Travis watched as the four boys went in different directions, the two younger boys moving a lot quicker than their older brothers.

  “Thanks for that.”

  “Not at all.” Jake answered, with only a hint of a smile. “Truth is, they don't see much of that kind of car around here. John Baker drives the twins to their job over at the mill every day, but his vehicle is a truck.”

  “A truck? I thought he drove a van.”

  Jake answered, “Jah, he drives a van when he is carrying more than two or three passengers.”

  “So, what is it you need help with, Jake?”

  “We need another chicken coop—a really big one. Mei onkel and aenti are moving to Florida and leaving their chickens with us.”

  “Another one? But you already have a perfectly good chicken coop. Why would you need another one?” Travis gestured to the little buildings grouped near the barn.

  One of those had to be for all those chickens he had driven past a few minutes ago.

  “We do, jah, but they have over a hundred chickens. There is not enough room in the one we have for that many chickens.”

  “Oh...” Travis stopped to think about why someone would have that many chickens, but he couldn't come up with any kind of answer that made sense.

  “Is it a dumb question to ask why they would have that many chickens?”

  Jake laughed before he answered. “No, it is not dumb. They have that many because they sell the eggs. If they sold chickens, they would have several thousand. I am thankful they only sold the eggs.”

  Well, that makes sense, I guess.

  “So, they're leaving them here with your family?”

  “Jah, because so many people around the area buy the eggs.”

  “And they're not going to sell eggs in their new community?”

  “Actually, they are taking about a dozen with them. If they have the same kind of demand there as here, they can always buy more chickens.”

  “Oh, ok. That makes sense.”

  “Jah, I thought so, too.”

  “Well, but isn't this something you usually make into a group activity... kind of like those barn raisings?”

&nbs
p; Jake laughed before he answered. “No, I don't believe we have ever had a chicken coop raising. Guess we could though—if you're too busy.”

  “No, I'm not too busy.” Travis answered quickly. “I just hate to have you pay me for work you could probably have done in an hour or two with some of your neighbors helping you.”

  “Wait,” Jake turned and raised a hand between them. Travis stopped and waited for Jake to go on. “You were expecting me to pay you?”

  To that, Travis had no answer. Could I have misunderstood?

  He stood there, trying to figure out how to get his foot out of his mouth, when Jake started laughing.

  “Travis, I am teasing you.”

  It took a moment for Jake's words to sink in, but then Travis smiled and pretended to punch Jake on the arm. “Oh yeah, that's a good one, man.”

  Jake laughed again before turning to walk towards the barn, motioning for Travis to follow him.

  Travis followed Jake through the wide double doors and through a large open area that ran the length of the structure. There were stalls lining both sides, but the ones on his right were of various sizes, with different doors and walls.

  As they moved through the barn, Travis was surprised at the amount of light inside the enormous building. There were no electric lights that he could see, but there was also no air of gloom that he had expected from a space with no artificial light and only a few windows.

  “Should we get started?” Jake stood by a large pile of neatly stacked wood boards.

  “Wow. This is going to be quite a chicken coop.”

  “A hundred chickens.” Jake looked over his shoulder at the lumber behind him. “Jah.”

  He tossed a pair of thick work gloves to Travis and turned to heft several boards onto his shoulder.

  Travis pulled the gloves onto his hands and lifted as much lumber as he could—not quite as much as Jake had, but a respectable amount all the same—and followed Jake back out of the barn.

  — FIVE —

  From the middle of the crosswalk, Katie noticed Andrew O'Neal standing outside The Sweet Shop. She watched as he stood there, looking in through the front window. It appeared that he was talking... out loud... but there was no one near him.