by Naomi Miller
The police chief turned to look at us in the doorway. “And why didn't you call him before now? With your mother so sick, and no one taking care of you . . . were you too busy enjoying the freedom?”
Katie looked around her, trying to figure out who the man was speaking to—and realized that he must be speaking to the young girl who had answered the door.
She must have followed them down the hall, but Katie had not heard anything to give away her approach.
“Mama told me not to.” The young woman spoke very quietly, but Katie could hear the anguish in her voice.
Clearly she was only concerned for her brothers and what their punishment would be. Katie watched as she stood there, twisting her hands together and shifting from foot to foot as she waited for more questions from the police chief.
However, he turned his attention back to Travis. “Let me see if I have this right. Six months ago, your father died—and instead of staying home to take care of your family, you go off to the city.”
Katie felt bad for Travis, but he stood still and listened quietly as the officer continued.
“You only come back when your younger brothers break into a bakery—and you expect me to believe that it won't happen again, that you won't head right back to the city when I leave here? Is that about right?”
“Officer,”
“Chief.”
“I'm sorry, Chief . . . I promise you, I did not run out on my family. I had no idea mom was sick. She was the one who told me to go to the city. I've been sending money home from every paycheck.”
“Obviously, it was not enough.” He said this in an undertone, to himself, before he went on.
“Now that I know what is going on, I will not be going back to the city. I mean, I will, but only to get my things. I will be moving back home to take care of things.”
The police chief turned to Katie's boss then. “Well, there you have it, Mrs. Simpkins. What do you want to do with them?”
Mrs. Simpkins looked from Travis, to his younger brothers, who were huddled together on the couch behind him, to their mother on the bed in the corner of the room, to the young woman who had moved to her side, and then to Katie—and the young boy still holding tightly to her hand.
“I do not wish to press charges.” She turned to look at the two boys on the couch and continued. “I will expect the two of you to clean up your mess.”
After a moment, she added, “First thing in the morning.”
Both boys nodded enthusiastically in answer. Travis spoke up as well. “And I can pay you for the things they took.”
But Mrs. Simpkins was shaking her head. “No, I think it's more important to use your money to care for your mother—and your brothers and sister.”
“I don't want them to feel like they can get away with anything.” Travis looked back over at his brothers, but Mrs. Simpkins spoke up again.
“They aren't getting away with anything. They made a mess and they are going to make it right. And by saving me the money it would cost to hire a special clean-up crew, they are paying me back for the things they took.”
Amelia glanced over to see Katie watching her and the stubborn young man—who continued to stand there with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I don't know about you boys, but I would take that deal.” The gruff police chief spoke up then.
Travis opened his mouth, but Mrs. Simpkins shook her head at him. “I understand what you're concerned about, but it was my shop that was broken into and I say this is the way we are going to handle it.”
She put up a hand when he opened his mouth again. “I've made up my mind and that is just how it's going to be. Don't waste your breath arguing with me.”
Travis finally unfolded his arms and then raised them in a gesture of defeat. “Okay. You win. We'll do it your way.” He looked at his brothers again before adding, “for now anyway.”
Mrs. Simpkins nodded her head and then turned to the police officers.
“Is there anything else—or is that all?”
“There's nothing else to it, ma'am. You've taken care of everything.” The police chief answered, with one last withering stare at young Travis.
“You've been given a second chance. I don't want to see any of you in trouble again . . . understand me?”
Every child in the room nodded, even the young boy still clinging so tightly to Katie—though he had moved behind her skirts.
Amelia hadn't noticed earlier, but now—looking over at him—she could just barely see his head peeking around Katie’s side.
Katie reached down to him, rubbing a hand on his back, trying to reassure him.
“Guess we'll be going now.” The police chief spoke up again, clearing his throat loudly and then looking around the room one more time before moving toward the door.
Katie stepped into the room and out of the man's path, ducking her head a little as he and his deputies passed.
Gwen, the young girl, slipped quietly behind them, following them toward the front door. Young Bobby let go of Katie's skirt as soon as his sister moved past them.
Katie watched him bound across the room to his mother's bedside. He pulled himself up on her bed and sat there, playing with the blanket that was wrapped so tightly around her. Katie watched him for several seconds, until Mrs. Simpkins' voice drew her attention.
“No, now I told you I want you to use that to take care of your family. I guarantee they need it more than I do.”
Evidently, the young man had tried again to pay her for the items his bruders had taken from her bakery.
Katie hid a smile, knowing exactly how difficult it was to talk her boss out of—or into—anything.
“You just be certain the boys are there bright and early tomorrow morning. We open at seven, so they'll need to be there at least a half hour before, I would think.”
“We'll be there, ma'am. Thank you.”
“Well, now that it's all settled, there's a celebration to get to. If we hurry, we might even get there before the food is gone.” Mr. O'Neal stepped up to stand beside Mrs. Simpkins as he spoke.
“I don't think we'll be going.” Travis said, just as his schweschder came back into the room.
And for the first time since they had all kumme into the room, Katie heard their mamm's voice.
“Nonsense. We always go to the Fourth of July celebration. Travis, you take your brothers and sister and get down there to celebrate. I mean it!” Her voice was very small and sounded weak, but there was a firm determination to it that made it impossible to consider arguing.
Katie recognized it as a tone her own mamm used often. She was not at all surprised to hear Travis mumble “yes, ma'am” in response.
“You all go on. I'll stay with Mama.” Gwen spoke quietly, but Katie heard her.
And apparently Mrs. Simpkins did, too.
“You will do no such thing, young lady. Your mama just told your brother to take you to the festivities and that is what he's going to do.”
“I can't. Someone has to stay with Mama.”
“Yes, I know. This is why I am going to stay here.”
“But . . .”
“No buts, now you go get ready. I have been to that same festival every year since my dear late husband moved us here. And I am sure the year will come when you have to miss one, but it is not going to be this year.”
She made a little scooting motion with her hands as she walked over to the bed in the corner. “Go on now.”
That time she made the motion to Travis, who was still standing at the foot of his mamm's bed.
He didn't hesitate that time. He took his young bruder's hand and headed for the door, his other two bruders following right behind him.
His schweschder looked over at her mamm—who nodded her head at her daughter—and then she followed her bruders out.
“Katie, will you be certain Freida has delivered the cupcakes to the park?”
“Yes, Mrs. Simpkins. I sure will.”
“All rig
ht. Off with you, too. Now go have fun.”
“Are you certain you don't need help here?”
“I sat by my husband's sick bed many a time in my life. I will be just fine.”
Looking over at the children’s mamm, Amelia smiled. “Now then, I think it’s time for introductions, don’t you?” Amelia sat down beside the bed.
“I’m Amelia Simpkins. You already know that I own The Sweet Shop in town. And this silly man who insists on calling me Milly is Andrew O’Neal. He owns a cafe in town.”
“And I’m Cissy Davis. I’m sorry that I can’t get up right now, but I’ve been recovering from—“
“Now, you don’t need to say any more. We’ll have a nice chat after everyone leaves.”
“Come on, Katie. Looks like Milly has things handled.”
Amelia scowled at Andrew, but said nothing about his usage of the nickname she detested.
He only smiled and turned to walk back down the hall toward the front door.
Katie couldn't believe everything that had happened today. It had started out so ordinary; then she had discovered the mess—and the break-in—when she arrived at work.
At the time, she would never have believed that not only would the bakery have been broken into, but that the buwes involved—and their family, would become freinden of her own family!
Katie looked around at her freinden and neighbors as she walked toward the center of the park, surrounded by her family.
In her hands, she carried a large plastic box filled with cupcakes. She spied Freida on the other side of the park, who was similarly laden with her own box of cupcakes, walking with her own family.
Behind Katie, her mamm had the third box of cupcakes, while her dat carried the box of food her family was contributing to the town picnic.
Her schweschders walked beside her and mamm, while their bruders ran ahead, in a rush to put down the things they were carrying so they could find their freinden.
When they got close to the center of the park, where a dozen long picnic tables waited—some already weighed down with piles of food and supplies—Katie spotted Travis with his bruders and schweschder.
Just like her bruders, his were running around, playing with their own freinden, shouting happily. They all looked happy to be there.
Katie laughed as she walked over to one of the center tables—where Mr. O'Neal was arranging the large, white tablecloth Mrs. Simpkins used for special displays.
“Don'cha be worrying yourself, Katie-girl. The two of them were gettin' along like old chums when I left 'em.”
“Actually, I wasn't worrying. I was thinking how glad I am at how this all worked out. Gott has truly been working here.”
“Oh, aye, that He has. God certainly works in mysterious ways. Even if we don't understand the why's and wherefore's”
Katie smiled at that. Who would have ever thought we would have been robbed—and then, when we found the thieves, instead of putting them in jail, we helped them. We found a family—a neighbor—instead of an enemy.
To Andrew, she only said, “He does, indeed.”
After putting down her box of cupcakes, she turned to look out at the park. Freida was talking to one of the Yoder buwes. No surprise there...
Katie's bruders were chasing the two buwes who had caused so much trouble this morning. Their schweschder, looking shy, was standing by the duck pond, all on her own, her face lifted to the sky in what looked to Katie like an expression of worship.
While Katie stood watching, the young woman turned to look over at the buwes standing on the other side of the Yoder buwe that Freida was talking to.
She was very far away, and Katie couldn't be certain, but it looked as if there was a shy smile playing around the young maedel's lips.
Intrigued, she turned back to the table. “Do you need help with these?”
“No, Katie, you go enjoy yourself.”
Katie nodded and headed off to the pond, thinking she might invite the young maedel to join them for the fireworks.
Gott is gut.
Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.
Psalm 32:1
TURN THE PAGE
FOR EXCLUSIVE
BONUS CONTENT
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
WARNING : SPOILERS AHEAD!
1) In the same situation as Katie, would you have responded the way she did—not only extending grace, but gathering food and supplies for the family?
2) Do you think the boys should have received a harsher punishment for what they did? Why or why not? Do you think they will do it again?
3) How would you react to the discovery that your home or business had been broken into, burglarized and trashed? Would you extend grace?
4) Were you surprised that Mrs. Simpkins didn’t file charges? Do you think she will file a report with her insurance company? What did you think of Mrs. Simpkins reaction?
5) In your opinion, is it easier to forgive someone you love . . . or is it easier to extend forgiveness to a complete stranger? Why?
6) Do you find it harder to help someone whose faith is different from your own? Why?
7) Do you believe grace should be extended to everyone—in every situation? Do you believe God extends grace to everyone—in every situation?
BLUEBERRY CUPCAKES
RECIPE CONTRIBUTED BY DJ MYNATT
INGREDIENTS:
1 white or yellow cake mix
2 cups fresh blueberries
3 eggs
1/3 cup oil
1 1/3 cups water
Prepare cake mix according to directions. Add 2 cups fresh blueberries and fold into batter. Bake following instructions on cake mix box.
ICING:
1 cup confectioner's sugar
2 tbsp. Milk
additional milk as needed
Prepare icing, mixing small amounts of confectioners sugar with milk to desired consistency. Spread onto cooled cupcakes.
Recipe © DJMynatt 2016
AUTHOR INTERVIEW
Q: What inspired you to write Amish cozy mysteries? Is there another genre you enjoy writing—or would enjoy giving a try at some point in your career?
A: My favorite genre is Amish fiction, but it wasn’t the first genre chose when I began writing—my first novel was a contemporary romance. However, it seems to be the genre I feel led to write about now. And yes, there’s a back-story there (see the next question/answer).
Q: Is there something specific that led you to write this particular series? Why a Sweet Shop? Why Amish? Why a cozy mystery—and not suspense?
A: I felt compelled—urged—to stop and write an Amish cozy mystery. A Sweet Shop brings visions of pastries, cakes, thing we love. Why Amish? Because most (not all, unfortunately) Amish stories are clean reads, without bad language, bad habits, and an indecent style of living. I stopped writing an Amish suspense and switched to a cozy mystery, because I think people need stories of hope and love right now. This is what I’m writing . . . a light mystery with a happy ending . . . Something that shows the good in people.
Q: Will there be more books in the series?
A: Oh, yes. I’m working on book two now, titled Christmas Cookie Mystery. If all goes well, next year the third book should be released.
Q: Can we look forward to more books from you—beyond this series?
A: I certainly hope so. I have every intention of submitting the Amish suspense novel I wrote, titled “Plain Intent”, in the future. And if people enjoy the cozy mysteries, I hope to write many more . . . and other series in the same strain.
Q: Do you have any advice for novice or debut authors?
A: Don’t give up—no matter what! If you love to write, you should be writing.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This has been an awesome journey . . . one that I didn’t plan, but when God put it on my heart to do, I dug in and got it done!
I could not have done this project, without the help and support of my darling daught
er, Rachel L. Miller. She is an amazing writer/author, who has pushed me when I got stuck, and walked through each chapter with me, until the very end.
My heartfelt thanks go out to Marilyn Ridgway—beta reader extraordinaire, who has stood by me from start to finish. Marilyn encouraged me to write this book; then she took time to read through each chapter . . . several times . . . until it was the book I was meant to write.
I want to thank my grandchildren, who have been patiently waiting for me to get the book done.
And I want to thank God, for placing this idea on my heart; for inspiring me to write more than a mystery, but a light-hearted mystery that refuses to upset anyone. This story is meant to encourage and uplift the reader; to bring smiles and good feelings to whoever reads it.
I hope I’ve shown my love for God, who loves me, watches over me, and protects me day after day.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Naomi Miller mixes up a batch of intrigue, sprinkled with Amish, Mennonite, and English characters, adding a pinch of mystery—and a dash of romance!
Naomi works full time as an author, blogger and inspirational speaker. She is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) organization. When she’s not working diligently to finish the next novel in her Sweet Shop Mystery series, Naomi tries to make time for attending workshops and writers conferences. Whenever time permits, Naomi can be found in one of two favorite places—the beach and the mountains.