An Amish Christmas Recipe Box

by Jan Drexler

  © 2019 by Jan Drexler

  Published by Revell

  a division of Baker Publishing Group

  PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

  www.revellbooks.com

  Repackaged edition published 2020

  Ebook edition created 2020

  Previously published with two other novellas in 2019 as An Amish Christmas Kitchen

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4934-1894-7

  Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the authors’ imaginations and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The author is represented by WordServe Literary Group.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  Recipe: Jam Thumbprint Cookies

  An Excerpt from Hannah’s Choice

  About the Author

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  To the memory of Ruth Ann

  Soli Deo Gloria

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ada Weaver eyed the frozen puddle in front of the door of Heritage Amish Furniture, a stack of boxed baked goods balanced in one hand, her key to the store in the other. To open the door, she would have to lean over that ice without dropping the six boxes full of cupcakes. Her sister Rose had left the house ten minutes ago, but she usually entered the store through the workshop, leaving Ada to unlock the customers’ entrance.

  “Rose!” Ada leaned as far over the ice as she could to peer in the window. Rose was nowhere in sight.

  She reached out with her toe to knock on the door but nearly lost her balance.

  “Let me help you.”

  The voice came from behind as a gloved hand took her key, reached past her, and unlocked the door. As he turned the doorknob, Ada looked up into the face of Dat’s newest employee.

  “Denki,” she said, stretching one foot over the ice and onto the threshold. “We’ll have to put ice melt out right away, before any customers show up.”

  The young man grinned, his glasses steaming in the warm room. He wore a black knit cap and a black coat, just like all the Amish men in the Shipshewana area wore in the winter. His brown eyes didn’t meet hers but looked around the store as he took off his gloves.

  “I haven’t been in the shop before.” He fingered a display of wooden Christmas tree ornaments. “You sell more than just furniture in here.”

  “For sure, we do.” Ada unwrapped her shawl and hung it on the wooden hook next to the door. “Dat says folks don’t make a large purchase like furniture very often, but you never know what they’ll walk out with when they come in to browse.”

  He walked along the counter until he reached the glass cases where the baked goods were displayed. Ada took the boxes behind the counter and stacked them on top of the first display case, opening one and setting the cupcakes she had baked that morning on a tray. The cookies Rose had brought over from the house were still in their boxes on top of the second case. While she worked, she searched her mind for the young man’s name. She remembered that he had moved to Wisconsin several years ago when they had both finished their schooling, but the family had moved back to Indiana last week.

  “Who makes the cookies and cupcakes?” He straightened up, still not looking at her.

  “I do. Rose and I work in the store together, but she doesn’t like to bake. So, she takes care of dusting the display furniture and ordering the other items we sell.” She glanced at him. “Rose is my sister, and I’m Ada.”

  He grinned again. “I remember you from school. I’m Matthias Yoder. Your Dat hired me yesterday to work in the factory.”

  She nodded, glad that he had taken the hint and she didn’t have to ask his name outright. “He told us about you last night at supper. He said you have a lot of experience working with wood.”

  Just then Ada saw movement through the window on the far wall, the one that looked out into the parking lot. Amos Hertzler coasted to the bike rack and inserted the front wheel of his bicycle between the bars. She waited as he entered the door to the furniture factory, but he didn’t turn toward the window. Amos never turned toward her.

  Ever since Amos started working for Dat a year ago, soon after moving to Shipshewana from Nappanee, Ada had waited for him to notice her. It was hard since they didn’t belong to the same church district, but someday he would turn and look toward the store on the way into the workshop. Then she would wave to him. He would stop, then a slow smile would appear. He would start walking toward her—

  “Who made these?” Matthias asked. He had walked over to the display of floor clocks on the far wall and run his hand over the wooden case of the tallest one.

  “Dat makes all the clocks.” Ada pulled her thoughts back as she worked to keep a note of pride from her voice. She started transferring the cookies to the display case. “People come from as far as Missouri to buy them.”

  “This is fine craftsmanship.” Matthias came back to the counter. “That’s one reason why I wanted to work here. My Dat worked with Leroy before we moved to Wisconsin, so I knew I had to look him up when we came back.”

  “I remember him. Ervin Yoder was one of Dat’s best woodworkers, and customers still ask about his work. He’ll have to come in and say hello. I’m sure Dat will be happy to see him again.”

  “Dat passed on in the spring.” Matthias kept his gaze somewhere around his toes.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Denki.”

  As Ada slid the spatula under the last cookie on the tray, it broke before she could put it in the case. She sighed as she picked up the two halves.

  “I guess this one won’t make it to any of our customers.” She glanced at Matthias. “Would you like it?”

  The grin came back. “Are you sure?”

  She laughed. “I certainly don’t need to eat any more cookies.” She tugged at the apron that always seemed to get twisted, but Matthias didn’t seem to notice. He had taken a bite of the soft sugar cookie and was chewing it with his eyes closed.

  “Delicious. Just like the ones Grossmutti made when I was a boy.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  He finished the cookie and leaned over to look into the display case again. Besides the sugar cookies, there were chocolate chip cookies and oatmeal raisin, as well as chocolate cupcakes decorated with orange and red frosting leaves.

  “You must have folks who stop by here just for the baked goods.”

  Ada nodded, her face growing warm from his praise. “The tourists pass the word on to their friends. And plenty of the local folks stop by, too. I have several orders for pies for Thanksgiving this Thursday.”

  Matthias glanced at the clocks as one wheezed, getting ready to strike eight o’clock.

  “I had better get to work. It’s almost time, and I don’t want to be late on my first day.”

  “There’s a door to the workshop back there.” Ada pointed past the clocks to a hallway. “You can go that way.”

  As Matthias disappeared
down the hall, Rose came into the shop from the showroom. Most of the furniture was displayed in the large building attached to the shop.

  “Who was that?” Rose hung the feather duster next to the cash register and flipped the light switch. The lights on the cash register display blinked as the power turned on.

  “Dat’s new employee in the workshop, Matthias Yoder. He opened the door for me when you were nowhere to be seen.”

  “I was dusting. But if you needed help, why didn’t you come in the back way?”

  Ada shrugged. “I always come in this way.”

  Rose straightened a Christmas ornament on the display. “You just want to be able to watch Amos come to work.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Ada checked the supply of bakery bags and dry-wax tissues to handle the baked goods.

  “If you came in through the workshop, perhaps you would actually be able to talk to him.”

  Her face burned at the thought. “That would be too forward. I could never do that.”

  “You’ll never get his attention sitting in the store all day.”

  Ada scooped some ice melt from the container under the cash register and opened the front door. Rose was right. But how did a girl make a boy pay attention to her? She watched the white crystals bounce on the ice, making sure she scattered them evenly. She would never be as bold as some of the girls. Some of them would actually drive their pony carts past a boy’s home in the summer, hoping to attract his attention. She scattered the last of the ice melt and went back inside.

  “How did you get Johnny to notice you?” she asked as she replaced the scoop.

  Her sister shrugged as she leafed through the receipts from yesterday’s business. “He just came over to talk to me at the Singing one night.”

  Ada leaned on the bakery case, her chin in her hand. Rose was pretty, and her dresses were never too tight. She never slipped on the ice, or spilled her drink at McDonald’s, or even said something she wished she could take back. No wonder Johnny had snatched her up as soon as he saw her. They had been going steady for nearly six months now, and Ada was sure they would be getting married next fall. Then Ada would be the only one of the four sisters still left at home.

  She sighed. The way things looked, she would always be the sister living at home.

  When Matthias reached the house he shared with Mamm on the north side of Shipshewana, he coasted into the driveway on his bicycle, his chin buried in his coat collar. Leroy’s other employees, Amos and Vernon, had both said they would be driving their buggies tomorrow. Snow was in the forecast, and it was time to put the bicycles away for the year. But Matthias would have to continue to rely on his.

  He opened the door to the small barn and wheeled the bicycle in. The cow had already come in from the pasture, and Matthias didn’t blame her. It was cold out there this evening. He worked his stiff fingers to get some feeling back into them, then poured some feed into the cow’s manger.

  The cow was older, but still a good milker. His brother-in-law Simon had loaned her to Mamm when he bought this place for her last week. Simon’s family had a dairy farm, a big sprawling place down near Millersburg. When he had married Sally, Matthias’s oldest sister, twelve years ago, Dat had been happy that she would always be well provided for. Matthias’s other sisters, Marian and Elizabeth, had also married well.

  A year after Elizabeth’s wedding, Dat had decided to move to Wisconsin in search of more opportunities for Matthias.

  Matthias stripped the last drops of milk from the cow’s udder, pushing away the regrets. Thinking of the what-ifs was Mamm’s favorite pastime, but he was determined not to fall into that same rut. He had a good job now, and things would slowly improve. Although Mamm had already stated that they wouldn’t be buying another horse and buggy. Not after what had happened in Wisconsin.

  The kitchen window shone with a welcome glow as Matthias fastened the barn door and headed toward the house with the pail of fresh milk. Clouds filled the sky, blocking the after-sunset glow, and flakes of snow danced in a gust of wind—big clumping flakes that clung to the tree branches. Matthias opened the kitchen door.

  Mamm stood at the stove, stirring green beans in a pan. She turned when the door opened.

  “Don’t forget to shut the door tight behind you,” she said.

  She took the pail of milk as Matthias removed his coat and gloves. He hung his hat on the hook over his coat.

  “It’s getting cold out there, and snow is in the air.”

  “I’m thankful we have this nice warm house.” Mamm took a casserole from the oven and set it on the table. “The days are short, and the wind blows cold, but we’re snug in our little home.”

  Matthias paused, wondering which poem the phrase had come from this time. Mamm loved her poems, and even wrote them. Twice, her poems had been published in the Budget, the Amish newspaper.

  “How was your first day at work?”

  “It was fine.” Matthias washed up at the sink. “The other two men helped me learn my way around, and Leroy gave me some easy tasks to do.”

  “Your Dat always liked working for Leroy.” Mamm set a plate on the table piled with slices of fresh bread. “He said Leroy Weaver was the fairest boss he had ever known.” She turned to stir the green beans. “Did you meet anyone else?”

  “I talked to one of Leroy’s daughters.”

  Matthias dipped into the pail of milk and filled a glass. He set it at his place at the table as Mamm beamed at him.

  “If I remember right, the Weavers have four daughters. Which one was she?”

  “Ada.” He took a long drink of the milk. It had been hours since the sandwich he had downed at lunch. “We were in school together, but I don’t think she remembered me.”

  Mamm frowned as she set the beans on the table and took her seat. “Ada?” She thought for a minute, tapping her forefinger on the table. “She must be the youngest one.”

  Matthias smiled. “She is certainly a good baker. She gave me a cookie, and it was just like Dat’s Mamm used to make.”

  Mamm raised her eyebrows. “That is a good quality to look for in a wife, when the time comes.”

  “The time has already come. I’m twenty-one years old.”

  Mamm laid her hand on his. “I know, son, I know. It seems like you’re getting older, but you’ve only just begun your life. Don’t be in too much of a hurry to grow up.”

  Matthias suppressed a sigh as Mamm bowed her head for the silent prayer. Most of his friends in Wisconsin had married by the time they were twenty and were living their lives. Raising their families. Working on their own farms. And yet Mamm continued to treat him like a boy.

  Mamm passed the dish of green beans to him, signaling the end of the prayer before Matthias even started praying. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t thank the Lord for his food.

  Thank you, Lord, for this food. He put half the beans on his plate and handed the dish to Mamm. And for granting me safety on the way home. He held his plate close to the casserole dish as Mamm spooned a generous serving of lasagna onto his plate next to the beans. Help Mamm to realize that I should be the man of the house, now that Dat is gone. Last of all, he helped himself to a thick slice of homemade bread. And thank you for my job.

  “Elizabeth stopped by this afternoon,” Mamm said as she spread butter on her bread. “She was happy to hear that you found a job so soon.”

  “I’m glad, too.” Matthias cut into the lasagna with the side of his fork.

  “She brought little Ann with her.” Mamm stared toward the window. “I don’t think you know how difficult it was for me to move to Wisconsin and leave the girls behind.”

  Matthias watched a tear slide down Mamm’s cheek. “I know the move was Dat’s idea. But he was right. He could afford to buy a farm there, while the price of land is too high here.”

  Another tear followed the first one. Matthias set his fork down and moved his chair next to Mamm’s. As soon as he sat next to her, she leaned her head on his shou
lder. He put an arm around her, holding her tight.

  “I wish we had never moved. If only your father had been content with what the Good Lord had given us here, instead of trying to have something more.”

  Matthias had heard Mamm’s complaints before, but he let her talk.

  “If only we hadn’t moved, your father would still be with us today. We wouldn’t have lost everything. We would still be living in our home instead of . . .”

  Her voice trailed off, but Matthias knew what she was thinking. After selling the farm in Wisconsin and paying off the loan, and then paying for their train tickets home to Indiana, Mamm had only had enough money left to buy this little house on the outskirts of Shipshewana. Hardly three acres, the property would keep a cow and a horse and allow Mamm to have a garden. This drafty little one-bedroom house with its old asphalt siding was their only home.

  He stared at the window over the sink, barely noticing the fat, wet snowflakes that splatted against the dark pane. This wasn’t a house he could ever ask a wife to share with him. He couldn’t expect any woman to be happy sharing this little place with her mother-in-law and sleeping in the attic. Marriage, even if he met the right girl, would have to wait until things got better.

  Matthias pulled his plate across the table and continued eating, one arm still around Mamm’s shoulders, and pushed away that thought. He would just have to learn to be content with the way things were. He had no guarantee that their lives would ever improve enough that he could think of a home and family of his own.

  The morning before Thanksgiving, Ada leaned over the kitchen sink to gaze out the window. The lamplight streaming from the kitchen into the early morning darkness made the snow look like sugar frosting on the tree branches. The breeze swirled flakes through the air, turning the yard into one of those snow globes the Englischers liked so much. A gust of wind toppled the line of snow on the branch closest to the window, and the entire length drifted to the ground. A squirrel, intent on gathering as many acorns as it could, ignored the fresh fall. It tunneled its nose along the ground, only its tail bobbing in the air behind it, making Ada laugh.