An Unexpected Amish Romance

by Patricia Davids

  The overweight hound tumbled out the door and immediately jumped up on Charlotte. She toppled to her backside and hugged him close as he climbed into her lap. “My poor fellow. You are safe at home. Danki, Mark. Do come in and join us for breakfast.”

  “I can’t. I must get home.” Mark helped Charlotte to her feet.

  “Nonsense. I insist. I must reward your efforts on behalf of poor Clyde. My niece makes the most delicious rolls. Where is Juliet?” She rose on tiptoe to try and see the top of his buggy.

  “Who is Juliet?” Mark asked, looking to Helen for an explanation.

  “Her raccoon.”

  Charlotte bent to pet her hound. “Juliet is Clyde’s dearest friend. They go everywhere together.”

  “She’ll be along shortly,” Helen said to appease her aunt.

  “Oh, goot.” She shook a finger at Clyde. “You were a naughty dog to wander off.”

  Helen leaned toward Mark and whispered, “You haven’t seen her, have you?”

  He shook his head and leaned closer. “Nee. Why are you whispering?”

  She jerked her head toward her aunt, who was busy making a fuss over the squirming dog. “I don’t want to upset her. She’ll start worrying again that someone has made a hat out of her pet.”

  “Why would she think— Nee, never mind. I’ve been told she’s a bit strange. I just didn’t realize how strange.”

  “She’s odd, but she’s harmless.” Odd but oddly endearing, as Helen was learning. She’d never met anyone like her aunt. It was hard to imagine she was related to Helen’s stoic father.

  “If you say she is harmless, I must believe you.” Mark started toward his buggy.

  This wasn’t how Helen had visualized their meeting, but she wasn’t one to let an opportunity slip by. She would ply him with coffee and rolls, apologize and ask him about a job. “Do come inside. I wanted a chance to speak to you about—”

  Mark cut her short as he pointed behind her. “I see smoke. Something’s burning.” He started toward the house.

  “My rolls!” Helen dashed around him and up the steps and into the smoke-filled kitchen.

  He followed her inside. “Where’s your fire extinguisher?”

  “I don’t know where my aunt keeps it.”

  “The best time to locate one is before a fire.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” Helen grabbed her hot pads and jerked open the oven door. More smoke billowed into the room. She started coughing, but she managed to pull the pan of charred rolls out and head for the door. He opened the other kitchen window and then followed her outside, coughing and wheezing, too.

  Helen plunked the pan on the porch railing and stared at the charred remains through watery eyes. Charlotte came up beside her. “I believe your last batch was better, dear. These look overdone. She’ll bring some better ones when she comes to see you later today, Mark.”

  “See me about what?” he asked.

  “Helen desperately wants you to give her a job. You should. She’s conscientious. She’s hardworking—”

  Helen cut in quickly. “Aenti, he doesn’t need to hear this.”

  “Of course he does. She’s a quick learner. She would be an asset to any business, even one run by a rude, judgmental and annoying fellow like you, but I still don’t understand why you want to wear her baked goods. That doesn’t seem right.”

  Helen closed her eyes and bowed her head in defeat. She tossed the burned rolls on to the grass. “I was wrong. Today is worse than yesterday.” Her voice cracked, but she raised her chin and continued. “I’m so very sorry for your trouble, Mark. Thank you for bringing the dog home. He means a great deal to my aenti.”

  She started into the house. Mark caught her by the arm. “Wait until the smoke clears.”

  She looked down in surprise at the warmth of his hand on her bare forearm and then looked at his face. She hadn’t noticed much about him before except his scowl.

  He wasn’t a bad-looking fellow. Not as handsome as Joseph, but he had a strong face with a broad forehead, high cheekbones and blond hair that wanted to curl from beneath his hatband. He had a dimple in his left cheek and a small scar in his right eyebrow. His intense green eyes, beneath thick eyelashes, gazed intently at her. They widened slightly, and his pupils darkened as she looked into them. A shiver skittered across her skin.

  * * *

  Mark noticed the smudge of flour on Helen’s cheek. The white powder stood in high contrast to the bright blush staining her face. Her gray eyes held specks of blue in their depths, and they glistened with unshed tears of humiliation. She blinked and looked away. Her shoulders slumped. He withdrew his hand and rubbed his tingling palm on the side of his pants. He took a step back. “Find where she keeps the fire extinguisher.”

  “I will.” She sniffed once but didn’t look at him.

  He took another step back and bumped into the porch railing. “I didn’t mean to be rude yesterday.”

  After a long pause, she nodded slightly. “You had just cause.”

  He should get going. He didn’t understand why he had this urge to linger, except that he didn’t want to see her cry. “My brother and my cousin say that I can be overbearing. If I was, I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Why can’t a single thing go right? Everything used to be so easy.” She covered her face with her hands, and her shoulders started shaking.

  He stepped closer. “Please don’t cry over a few burned rolls.”

  She made a sound like a strangled sob and fled around the corner of the house, leaving him feeling foolish and brutish at the same time. Every time he tried to help, he seemed to make things worse. She managed to fluster him, and he didn’t like the feeling. He turned to her aunt. “Will she be okay?”

  “Ja, we have plenty of flour.”

  “Flour?” He didn’t follow her.

  “To make more rolls for you so that you will give her a job.” Charlotte smiled sweetly.

  “I don’t need a baker. I need an inventory clerk and a general office worker. Has she had any experience?”

  Charlotte held her hands up and raised her eyes to the sky. “I shudder to tell you the experiences that child has had. I’m amazed at how well she is handling it.”

  “Handling what? Never mind. I need to get going. Tell Helen to come by the shop tomorrow, and I will interview her for the job, but I can’t promise anything.” He didn’t want to know more about Helen, and he didn’t want to try and stay in a conversation with Charlotte Zook. It was an impossibility.

  “All right. Do send Juliet home directly when you see her.”

  “Juliet? Oh, the raccoon. Sure.” He nodded and made his escape.

  As he turned his horse and buggy toward home, he glanced over his shoulder, but Helen remained out of sight. He felt a stab of pity for her. Living with Charlotte Zook couldn’t be easy. The woman was odd to say the least. He might pity Helen, but he wouldn’t hire her unless she was right for the job. So far, he hadn’t seen anything that suggested she would be.

  It had been a mistake to tell the aunt he’d discuss a job with Helen. He’d spoken in a moment of weakness, and that wasn’t like him. Something about Helen left him feeling off-kilter.

  Besides which, her assessment of his character continued to go downhill. He’d gone from being rude and judgmental to annoying, as well. He was confident Charlotte had been repeating what Helen had said about him.

  He chuckled as he recalled the look of horror on Helen’s face when her aunt started listing her qualifications. She knew what was coming. It served her right for her less-than-charitable comments about him. A man looking for a humble, modest and mild-mannered wife wouldn’t find those qualities in Helen Zook.

  Leaning back in the buggy seat, his smile faded as he imagined interviewing her. He’d already interviewed a half dozen people for the j
ob, and none of them had been right. His brother said he was too picky, but his uncle’s business was important, and hiring the wrong person was worse than working shorthanded.

  Mark glanced back at Charlotte’s house. Unless he was sadly mistaken, Helen wouldn’t be right for the position either, but he would do her the courtesy of giving her a chance. If she showed up. From the way she had rushed off in tears, he didn’t imagine she would find the courage to face him again anytime soon.

  Chapter Five

  Helen came out of her room a few minutes after she heard the buggy drive away. She stopped in the bathroom to splash cold water on her face and erase the marks of her tears. The burn of humiliation would linger much longer. How would she ever face Mark again?

  She stared at her pale face in the mirror. Perhaps this was part of God’s plan to make her a humbler person. If that was the case, it was working.

  She had always taken pride in her accomplishments and in her intelligence, although she knew they were gifts from God. She’d been the brightest scholar in school. Englisch customers in the fabric shop often commented on how friendly she was. Many of the young men she walked out with before settling on Joseph had said she was the prettiest young woman in her community. Prettier and smarter than her sister.

  Helen was the better cook, the better quilter, the better seamstress. Olivia never truly excelled at anything. More than once, Helen had heard her referred to as the simple sister in the Zook family. Olivia wasn’t simple. Things just didn’t come easily for her.

  Helen sighed. There had been pride in her heart because of Joseph, too. He had been the most sought-after and eligible bachelor in their community. She had set her sights on winning him even after she knew her sister was in love with him. When he asked for Helen’s hand in marriage she had been overjoyed, but look how that triumph had turned out for her. She became a laughingstock when Joseph broke their engagement to marry the “simple” sister.

  No doubt this morning’s adventure along with yesterday’s disaster would be recounted to the entire Bowman clan and beyond for many more laughs at her expense. She wouldn’t be able to look anyone in the eye. Her summer would be spent living off the charity of her aunt and avoiding the community as much as possible. And then what? When the summer was over, where did she go? Home? She couldn’t go there. Was she destined to travel to yet another distant place and start over somewhere new?

  She turned away from her reflection. Despair wasn’t an expression she wore well.

  Her aunt was seated at the table with a cup of coffee in front of her when Helen entered the kitchen. The room was clear of smoke, but the smell of burned bread lingered. Clyde lay on the floor beside her aunt’s feet. He looked sadder than usual, with his heavy jowls spread over his front feet and his eyes half-closed.

  “He hasn’t touched his food,” Charlotte said, staring down at him.

  “Perhaps Mr. Bowman fed him before he brought him here.”

  “I expect you’re right. That Mark is a mighty nice fella. It’s a shame he has a girlfriend back home. Clyde and I think he’d make an excellent match for you.”

  “Nee, he would not. I can’t abide men with green eyes.” Or one with a dimple in his left cheek, thick dark eyelashes and a sour expression whenever he looked at her. Helen crossed to the oven and turned it off.

  “Have you decided not to make more rolls?”

  “There isn’t much sense in wasting more of my time and your supplies.” Helen began cleaning up.

  “I guess that’s true. You don’t need to tempt Mark with sweets since he has given you the job.”

  Helen spun around. “What did you say?”

  “You don’t have to tempt him with sweets, although I’m sure he would enjoy them.”

  “He told you he is willing to hire me?”

  “Ja, something like that.”

  Helen sat down opposite her aunt and took her by the hand. “Tell me exactly what he said, Aenti. This is important.”

  “Exactly?”

  “Word for word.”

  Charlotte closed her eyes. “Let me think. I believe he said he didn’t need a baker, but he did need an inventory clerk and a general office worker. I’m sure that’s what he told me. Clyde certainly has taken a liking to him. I have, too.”

  “But what did he say about me?”

  “He said to tell you to come by the shop later today and start work. He couldn’t promise that you would like the job, but he did promise to tell Juliet to come home as soon as he saw her.”

  Helen was almost afraid to hope. Could it be true? “He is giving me a job? Aenti, are you sure that’s what he said?”

  Charlotte smiled and gave Helen’s hand a quick squeeze. “People often accuse me of not listening, but I hear well enough. Sometimes I even hear what isn’t said. You want a job. Mark needs help.”

  She patted Helen’s hand, took a drink of coffee, rose and carried the mug to the sink. “You must hurry if you are going to get another batch of crescent rolls done and get to work on time. You should take my bicycle. It will be faster than walking.”

  “He actually said I had the job?” Helen’s spirits rose like a kite in a strong wind.

  “Honestly, Helen, I’m beginning to think you are the one who doesn’t listen. I’m sure your sister and your fiancé told you many times that they were falling in love with each other even though they struggled against it.”

  Helen’s bright mood plummeted. “Nee, they never mentioned it. They went behind my back and met in secret.”

  “I thought Olivia was working for Joseph’s mother? They would have had a reason to see each other every day. I’m sure I read that in one of your mother’s letters. I keep all my correspondence in boxes. I can look for it.”

  “Joseph’s mother had to have surgery, and Olivia went to help with the housework and nurse her for a few weeks. I couldn’t do it. I had to help Mamm get ready for the wedding.”

  “Olivia has always had a sweet and caring nature. I’m sure she was glad to help.”

  “She helped herself to my fiancé,” Helen said bitterly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Pain is part of life, but it’s hard to heal in silence. Talking helps. I shall pray for your sister. I’m sure she has been hurt by your actions.”

  “My actions? What did I do?”

  “You turned your back on her and cut her out of your life just when she most needed your forgiveness. Well, it can’t be changed. Water under the bridge as they say. I’ve always wondered who they are, but I guess I’m one of them, for I just said it. The Lord has a plan for us all, Helen. Including you. Now I must go look for Juliet. What time will you be home from work?”

  “I’m not sure.” Grateful that her aunt had changed the subject, Helen turned the oven back on. After her aunt had gone out, Helen started on a new batch of rolls. She was determined not to think about Olivia and Joseph, but it was impossible in the quiet house with only the ticking of the timer to fill the silence.

  Joseph had tried to tell her about his growing feelings for Olivia. Helen had refused to listen. She knew she could make him forget her sister in time. None of that excused his betrayal. It might be water under the bridge because their marriage couldn’t be undone, but she wasn’t ready to forgive him or her sister.

  Strangely, her anger toward them didn’t burn as brightly as it once had. It was giving way to sorrow. She missed her sister and her parents.

  An hour later, with a basket of still-warm rolls in an insulated bag over her arm, Helen rode her aunt’s bike the two miles to Bowmans Crossing and entered the front door of the workshop a few minutes before nine. The large room was already bustling with activity as a half-dozen men operated various machines. The smell of wood shavings, diesel fumes and the loud hum of engines filled the air.

  Off to her right, she noticed an interior window into what
appeared to be an office. A young dark-haired woman dressed in jeans and a bright yellow and red print blouse sat at a desk. Helen stepped inside, and the noise dropped away when she closed the door behind her. The woman looked up from a computer and smiled. “Welcome to Bowman’s Amish Furniture. I’m Jessica Clay. How may I help you?”

  “I’m Helen Zook. Mark Bowman is expecting me.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “He is? He didn’t mention he had a client appointment.”

  “I’m not a customer. I’m here to start a new job. Inventory clerk and general office worker. I’m guessing that means I’ll be working in here with you.”

  Jessica’s smile widened. “Awesome. I could sure use the help. Mark’s gone to arrange for a special order of hardware from John Miller, the local blacksmith. He should be back in an hour or so.”

  Helen sat on the edge of a small upholstered bench and tried to still her racing heart as she clutched her basket. Jessica seemed pleasant enough. The office was small but neat, with a wide exterior window that let in the sunshine as well as the interior one that overlooked the work area. She was surprised to see a number of modern devices. “The local bishop must be very progressive to allow phones, a fax machine and a computer in an Amish business.”

  “We get questions about it all the time from our customers who are familiar with Amish ways. Isaac Bowman has a silent partner named James Carter. He’s a furniture dealer in Cincinnati, and he isn’t Amish. James had the computer and phone installed and even had a website built for the business. We now have satellite phone and internet. It was actually Mark who suggested it as a way to make the business more productive.”

  “But I didn’t see any electric lines to the building.”

  “The business is powered by a diesel generator, in keeping with the rules of Isaac’s church. Because of that, we are able to have a limited amount of technology, which I run since I’m not Amish, either. The Bowmans do have permission to have a phone in here so they don’t have to use the phone shack up the road that the other Amish families use. We also have a few solar panels for charging cell phones and pagers for the volunteer firemen who work here.”