by Tricia Goyer
Sarah’s mouth had dropped open when she’d turned the page and spotted the maple cupcake. It looked so real, she could almost taste it. She’d even lifted up the magazine and smelled the page. Sadly, it only smelled like paper and ink — at least it had then. But now … Now all types of good smells filled the kitchen of the West Kootenai Kraft and Grocery. Sarah had come with Mem. Annie, the owner, was on vacation, and Mem was supposed to be filling in baking. Sarah thought “supposed to be,” because Mem really wasn’t able to do much. Andy still wasn’t feeling well.
Sarah wasn’t allowed to help with the bread. Mem said she could bake bread at home but not for the restaurant customers. But Mem had allowed her to bake cupcakes. Maybe it was because Mem had seen that photo in the magazine too.
The kitchen smelled of the maple batter as well as the brown-sugar topping Sarah had made and added to the top. The recipe hadn’t called for the topping, but when Sarah looked at the plain beige batter in the pan, she knew exactly what it needed. She couldn’t wait to see if the cupcakes tasted as good as she imagined.
Andy slept nearby in a car seat that someone had loaned Mem. Sarah’s family didn’t have a car to use it in. They didn’t even use the buggy much, seeing as how both the store and the school were less than a mile from their house. But the car seat had a rounded bottom, and Mem was able to keep Andy rocking in it with her foot while she baked.
That only worked for so long though, and just as Sarah was taking her cupcakes out of the oven, Andy’s whimpers transformed into wails.
“Sarah,” Mem breathed out her name with a big sigh. “Will you watch this milk fer my bread? Don’t take yer eyes off it. Jest let it scald and then turn it off and remove it from the heat.”
“Ja, ja.” Sarah set down the cupcake tray on the cooling rack and pressed down on one of the cupcakes ever so gently with her finger. It pushed down just enough, and then bounced back, letting her know it was done.
“Remember, don’t let that milk boil over. It’ll cause a horrible mess and this isn’t our kitchen.”
Sarah nodded as an idea struck her. What if, before the cupcakes cooled completely, she plopped a half teaspoon of butter on each cupcake where it would melt? She licked her lips and hurried to the fridge. Mem carried Andy on her hip as she passed by.
“Did you hear me, Sarah?”
“Ja, Mem, sorry.” She offered a coy smile. “I’ll watch yer milk.”
Satisfied, Mem hurried into the small bathroom to nurse, and Sarah grabbed the butter from the fridge and returned to the kitchen. Before topping the cupcakes, she peeked at the milk. Steam rose, but Sarah knew it needed a minute more.
She’d just plopped the first scoop of butter onto a cupcake when the double jingle of the bell on the front door told Sarah her friend had stopped by. The bell jingled with each customer who entered and exited, but only Patty waited until the door shut to jingle it again.
“I know who’s cooking today,” Patty’s voice called from the restaurant area as she neared. “That smells too sweet to be ordinary bread. I knew from the moment I walked in that it was my friend in the kitchen. ‘Sarah’s experimenting again,’ I told myself.”
Sarah narrowed her gaze and placed her free hand on her hip. “Don’t you try to be extra nice now. You know you got me in trouble fer copying off my school paper. I’m still mad.” Yet even as she said the words, a smile threatened to break out.
“Fine then.” Patty took the plastic bag in her hand and tucked it behind her back. “I’m not gonna show you what I got fer you then.”
“Fer me?” Sarah jabbed the spoon in the tub of butter and then hurried over to her friend. Instead of opening the bag and showing her what was inside, Patty moved to the closest table in the restaurant area and sat.
“Close yer eyes,” Patty demanded as Sarah sat beside her.
Sarah was too excited to argue, and she immediately closed them.
She heard the sounds of shuffling plastic, obviously from the bag, and something else too. Paper maybe?
“Ja, open them!”
Sarah opened her eyes to find not one, but three magazines. The array of food on the covers took away her breath. These weren’t ordinary magazines, but baking ones.
“Where did you get them?” Sarah asked.
“In Eureka at the old bookstore. My oma sent me birthday money …”
“Ne, you didn’t. You spent yer birthday money on me? I can’t accept that.”
Patty laughed. “I did it fer myself. Purely selfish reasons. When you bake, I get to try yer creations. It’s the best present I’ve ever gotten. I can already taste it.” She licked her lips.
Sarah spread her hands over the magazines, and her eyes widened. One cover showed a fancy cake. The other a perfectly made cherry pie, and the third …
“Cupcakes!” Sarah grabbed up the magazine and flipped through the pages. Some cupcakes were decorated like monkey faces, others like bumblebees. Sarah stopped on one page that showed a cupcake that looked like a flower. If she hadn’t been looking at a baking magazine, she would have been sure the cupcake had just been plucked out of a garden.
Sarah held up the magazine. “Patty, look.”
Just then a loud hiss sounded. Sarah turned to see the flames from the gas stove shooting up.
“The milk!” It bubbled over onto the flames, causing the fire to stretch and grow, engulfing everything in its path.
In an instant, Mem’s cookbook that had been sitting on the counter next to the stove burst into flames.
Sarah gasped and ran into the kitchen, reaching her hand out, not knowing whether to grab the pan or brush the book to the floor and try to stomp out the fire.
“No! Wait!” A deep voice called from behind. Sarah recognized Edgar’s voice. In one smooth motion, he ran to the cabinet under the sink, pulled out a fire extinguisher, and pointed the fire extinguisher’s hose at the stove.
“Sarah, move!”
She quickly jumped to the side, but not quickly enough.
A white cloud filled the air, covering everything. Sarah too.
Just then, the smoke alarm went off, and everyone in the place rushed to the kitchen to see what was the matter, including Mem. She hurried from the bathroom with a wailing Andy in her arms. He didn’t seem too happy about having his lunch interrupted. Mem didn’t seem too happy about the mess.
Edgar shook his head and returned to the front register with a “Humph.” The restaurant guests returned to their tables, seemingly disappointed the ordeal was over so soon.
Without a word, Mem took the baby back to the bathroom to finish feeding, and Sarah set to work cleaning up the mess. White powder covered everything. Sarah would have to throw out all the ingredients Mem had out for the bread. She looked at her cupcakes on the cooling tray. She’d have to throw them out, too, as well as the tub of butter she’d had sitting out on the kitchen countertop. All the pots and pans were coated with the dust, as were the cooking utensils, walls, and floors. Sarah guessed what she’d be doing for the next week.
With a heavy sigh, she picked up the cupcake tray and dumped her creations in the trash one by one.
Footsteps shuffled behind her, and Sarah didn’t have to turn to know Patty stood there.
Just when Sarah thought things couldn’t get worse, she heard what sounded like a soft snickering behind her. The snickering grew until it turned into a laugh that radiated from Patty’s gut.
“I don’t know what yer laughing at,” Sarah hissed, brushing white powder from her kapp. She crossed her arms over her chest. She held a cupcake in her hand and seriously considered throwing it as hard as she could at her friend. Or who she used to call a friend. No friend of Sarah’s would ever think something as horrible as this was funny.
Between gasps, Patty held up the cupcake magazine. “I’m so sorry, Sarah.” She gasped for air. “But you look like this.” She pointed. On the page was a white bunny cupcake with large, blue-gumdrop eyes.
Sarah touched her face and arm,
knowing she was covered with the white powder. What a sight she must be! She would have laughed along with Patty if her mother hadn’t walked into the kitchen at just that moment.
Mem didn’t scold Sarah. She didn’t need to. Sarah glanced at Mem. Anger flashed in her eyes. Then, seeing Patty and the magazines, Mem’s brow furrowed. She no doubt figured out what had distracted Sarah from the pan of milk.
Mem marched over to Patty and pointed. “These yer magazines?”
Patty shook her head. “Ne.”
“Whose are they then?”
“I bought them fer Sarah.”
Mem picked them up, turned toward her daughter, and then stalked over to the trash, tossing them in.
“You need to keep yer mind on the task you’ve been called to.” Mem’s voice was low with the slightest quiver. “Sarah Shelter, you don’t need to get yer mind filled with fancy things, do ya hear? You don’t need to let what’s pretty fill yer heart, pushing out all that’s obedient and gut.”
Sarah nodded. She didn’t have the heart to look at her friend. Patty had given her the best gift ever. And now those beautiful, colorful magazines sat in the trash.
Sarah’s heart felt as if it had cracked in two, like an eggshell, with all her hopes spilling out. It wasn’t just the magazines — no, it was more than that. Mem thought the very things Sarah wanted to make were rubbish.
No fancy cupcakes for Sarah.
Not now.
Not ever.
CHAPTER
12
It seemed like she’d just lain down when she was stirred to wakefulness again. Sarah opened her eyes to muted light. It was morning. They’d made it! She was cold, stiff, and sore, but they’d be out of these woods soon and home. She smiled, imagining Mem’s sigh of relief and Dat’s warm hug.
Jathan scooped snow from the base of the trees, dumping it on the campfire. Sarah sat up and straightened her kapp, guessing she looked a mess. It didn’t matter though. Not really. They’d been protected through the night. More than that, she felt freer than when she’d entered these woods yesterday. She’d cried about Patty. She’d laughed with Jathan about silly things, and he’d helped her finally allow the truth to sink into her heart — she couldn’t have done anything to save Patty if she’d tried.
God had given Patty twenty-two years, and Sarah was blessed to have been a part of her life for over half of them. As much as it knotted up her heart to think about her friend, she saw life differently because of Patty. She also knew that Patty would be quite upset by the way Sarah had held everyone else at arm’s length as she’d mourned. That’s the last thing her friend would have wanted.
Sarah attempted to tuck strands of hair back into her kapp, and then she glanced over at Jathan. He was being strangely quiet as he finished putting out the fire. She sat up, slid on her hiking boot and began to tie the shoe strings. Her ankle didn’t feel as sore today … which was a good thing.
“So tell me. What are you thinking about?”
“Breakfast.” Jathan rubbed his stomach. “When we get down to town, I’m heading over to the restaurant.”
Laughter burst from Sarah’s mouth. “Yer not thinking about wrapping up in a quilt and sitting before a warm fire? That’s what I am looking forward to the most.”
“Sarah, do you really think I’d be considering heat more than food?” He smiled. “You have a Dat and brieder. Don’t you know how much earnest thinking men put into their meals? In fact, one of my brieder told me food was one of the reasons he stayed Amish after Rumspringa. Because most Englisch women don’t know how to cook. It’s a joke, of course … but there’s a ring of truth.”
Sarah laughed. “Ach, I can see that. Maybe he’s not the only one. I have a feeling many an Amish man was corralled by the scents drifting out of an Amish woman’s kitchen.”
She shook the pine needles off Jathan’s shirt and then handed it to him. “You better put this on, or it’s not gonna look right when we’re rescued.”
“Rescued? What do you mean rescued? I’ve already rescued you.” He jutted out his chin. “You watch. We’re going to make it to the gate before they even get a chance to send anyone up the trail.”
Sarah looked up the hill. She stood clumsily to her feet. “I’m not so sure about that. I’m gonna have to take it easy like.
I’ll do the best I can, but I’ll most likely need to lean on you for support.”
“Wait now.” He stepped closer to her. “That’s not going to work.” Jathan opened his arms, and before she knew what was happening, he scooped up Sarah like a father scooping up a five-year-old.
Instinctively, Sarah’s arms went around Jathan’s neck. Her cheek was just slightly lower than his chin, and she felt his warm breath on her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been carried. Maybe when she was a toddler in Dat’s arms. This was completely different.
Because of Jathan’s muscled arms around her, Sarah’s skin smoldered like the dying campfire embers. He felt warm. Safe. At that moment, Sarah knew something else too. They’d entered these woods as almost strangers, but now they were leaving as friends … and maybe something more.
She dared to glance up into his smiling face. He was looking at her. Studying her. There was the same care and attention in his gaze that she’d seen yesterday, but now she understood it, understood him.
Jathan wasn’t awkward; he was timid, yet caring. He had humor in his gaze when he looked at her not because he was making fun of her, but because she made him smile.
“I’ll get you out of here. I know the way.”
She didn’t argue. Instead she hung on tightly as he climbed the path that would take them to the rock slide trail.
“If that’s true, if you know the way, then why didn’t we head out last night?” she teased.
“I wasn’t sure in the dark, but now that I can see the mountains, I’m sure I can find the trail.”
“Just as long as you don’t get us lo —”
“Lost?” He finished for her. “We’re already lost, Sarah.” Instead of getting angry, he smiled. “But I have no plans to stay that way.”
Something in Jathan’s eyes made her want to believe him. She looked deeper. No, it was more than that. He wanted to succeed. He needed to succeed.
Instead of looking around to make sure he was going the right way, she relaxed in his arms. Her legs dangled. The pain in her ankle hadn’t lessened after all — not really. Even the movement of its swaying hurt. She never would have been able to walk out of these woods. Jathan had realized that.
He moved with steady steps and watched his footing closely.
“I’m not a glass vase,” she said, not much louder than a whisper, after they made it a little way up the trail.
“Excuse me?”
“If you drop me, I won’t break, I promise.”
“Is that what you thought before you hurt yer ankle?” He stepped upward with deliberate steps and sucked in deep breaths.
“That’s not funny.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to make sure you don’t get hurt any worse.”
“Thank you.”
He walked for a while, and she tried not to stare at his face, but she couldn’t help but notice his strong jaw, the stubble on his chin, and the small scar over his eye.
“How did you get your scar?” She lifted her hand, instinctively wanting to touch the scar, before lowering it again.
He pulled back his head and winced. “It happened a long time ago.”
“Did that happen when you fell out of one of those trees?”
“No.” He shook his head. “After that. I don’t mean to be vague, but it isn’t one of my favorite memories. I would like to tell you sometime, but …” His breathing grew labored as the path rose up the hill. “Another time would be better.”
“Ja, of course, I understand.” And she did.
There were stories about Patty Sarah hadn’t shared with anyone, like the day they’d worked on Patty’s quilt. Sara
h hoped she could share someday. In a strange way, it was the happiest moments with her friend that would be the hardest to share. But things would get better. Sarah had a feeling the more she shared, the easier it would be.
And what if instead of holding back, Sarah stepped out and started becoming the person Patty had seen her as? What would it be like to allow herself to be creative in the kitchen and open-hearted to those she served — the Amish and Englisch alike?
Patty always told Sarah she should own her own bakery because she had both cooking skills and a love for people, but what would that really mean? Would her Amish community accuse her of being too independent? It just wasn’t something a young Amish woman did. More than that, the West Kootenai was a small place. There wasn’t a need for two bakeries, let alone one that specialized in fancy.
And what about Jathan? How did he fit into everything? Sarah couldn’t imagine leaving these woods and not having him in her life.
As Sarah rested in his arms as he walked up the hill, she knew one thing. Jathan wouldn’t shrink away from carrying her through the rough patches.
She leaned her cheek into his neck. She had a feeling her question from now on would continue to be, What about Jathan?
The only time Jathan set Sarah down was when they stopped at the spring by Lake Geneva and filled their water bottles. He’d found the trail easily enough and had insisted on taking her to the bottom of the hill. That included carrying her as he walked down the rock slide.
Not wanting to look, Sarah had clung to his shirt and pressed her forehead into his neck. He was steady on his feet, and she never truly feared falling … but she didn’t want him to know that. She enjoyed the closeness. She had a hunch he did too.
Just as Jathan had predicted, the search-and-rescue team in their bright orange vests — along with members of their community, both Amish and Englisch — were gathering in the parking area behind the gate when Amos spotted Jathan carrying Sarah down the road.