An Amish Cookie Club Courtship

by Sarah Price

  Ella Mae knew that her sister was right. With a shrug of her shoulders, she started toward the house, mindful of Rachel’s hurting heart and equally aware of her own pounding one.

  EDNA

  CHAPTER 25

  What on earth had she been thinking, hosting lunch for tourists on both the Thursday and Friday of MayFest?

  If she’d been anxious the previous day, she was even more so today. Just that morning, the bishop had left a message on her machine that he’d stopped by the Amish Aid table shortly after MayFest opened and the cookies were selling like crazy today. His wife, Barbara, had sent him home with instructions to call Edna and ask her to bake more.

  More!

  Edna could hardly keep her wits about her. Sitting down at the table, she tried to collect her thoughts.

  The last of her Friday guests had just departed. Rachel and Ella Mae were cleaning the kitchen while Edna tried to figure out just how many cookies they needed to bake. They’d sent over at least two boxes filled with tins of cookies. Edna estimated they’d baked at least three hundred cookies in the past two days. If the Amish Aid table was truly almost out, she’d have to send over at least another hundred for the afternoon, as well as four hundred for Saturday!

  And her friends were due to arrive at any moment. She’d always planned on baking more cookies, but for Saturday. Now she’d have to make even more to sell that afternoon.

  More than ever she was truly appreciative of Rachel and Ella Mae’s help, even if both of the young women had appeared rather distracted for the past two days. Without the Schwartz twins, she’d have been stuck with a mess in her kitchen as well as the stress of determining how many cookies they needed to bake that afternoon. At least now, while the girls focused on the former, she could figure out the latter.

  “Edna Esh! You best be ready for us!”

  Edna managed to maintain her composure as she heard the booming voice of Wilma from outside the kitchen door. She never understood her friend’s insistence on being so loud. Sometimes it didn’t bother Edna, but today, with so much stress facing her, she’d have preferred a less forceful entry into her house.

  Oh, what she wouldn’t have done for a thirty-minute break before her friends arrived to bake cookies. She must’ve been deep in thought, for she hadn’t even heard their buggy approach.

  “Thank heavens we don’t have worship this weekend.” Verna pushed open the door and entered the kitchen, a heavy box in her arms. “I brought some more supplies. Flour and sugar and all.” She walked over to the table and set down the box. Clapping her hands together, for some flour had spilled out through the crevices of the box, Verna scanned the room. She caught sight of Wilma’s daughters and smiled. “Afternoon, girls.”

  Wilma barged through the door and stomped across the kitchen to where Edna sat, not waiting for an invitation to pull out a chair and plop herself down. She barely appeared to notice that her daughters were there. “My word, Edna. Before I came here, I stopped by the MayFest table—Linda King and Barbara Brenneman were there, you know—and then visited Yoders’ Store. And you know what?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Both are sold out!”

  Mary gasped. “You don’t say!”

  “Uh-huh.” Wilma nodded emphatically, her eyes glowing and her cheeks pink with excitement. “Since noon! They have a table right outside the entertainment tent. Good heavens, I’m glad we aren’t working the table all day tomorrow. The music is so loud.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue. “But the traffic to our table is constant. Why, the cookies are in such high demand that I don’t think we’ll be able to keep up with baking them!”

  Edna sighed and leaned her cheek against her hand. “Such good news never saddened me so much.”

  Verna laughed.

  “It’s true.” Edna rolled her eyes at her friend. “The bishop called me already with a request for more cookies from Barbara. But now we have to bake for Yoders’ Store, too?” She hoped she had enough flour and sugar to accommodate everyone’s demands. “I’m exhausted, I tell you. I can’t keep up this pace much longer.”

  “At least you have some help,” Mary pointed out in a soft voice.

  “Indeed!” Edna let a smile play across her lips. “What would I do without your girls, Wilma? Surely I don’t know.”

  At the mention of her daughters, Wilma perked up. She glowed at the compliment. “I knew it.” She leaned forward and waggled a finger in Edna’s direction. “You should’ve listened to me last year when you first needed help.”

  Edna stiffened as she noticed a change in Mary’s face. Her usually calm and pleasant expression morphed into a deep frown. Edna braced herself. It wasn’t often that Mary rebuked anyone, but it was clear that she would today.

  “All things in God’s time,” Mary said, a gentle reminder that, had her own Bethany not worked for Edna, she might not be married to John. “We shouldn’t question his plans.”

  With an exaggerated wave of her hand, Wilma dismissed Mary. “I’m not questioning him, Mary,” she retorted sharply, clearly bristling at the rebuke. “But, once in a while, it wouldn’t hurt for my friends to listen to me.”

  “Now, now.” Edna placed her hands on the table and somehow found the energy to push herself into an upright position. “Let’s avoid bickering, shall we? We’re baking cookies for charity today, so let’s do so in a charitable spirit; otherwise, they won’t taste as sweet.” She forced a smile. Sometimes she felt as if she were dealing with children and not grown women, especially when her friends quarreled among one another. “Shall we get started?”

  Once they began baking, all of their differences would disappear. Edna knew that from years of experience. After all, who could possibly argue while making cookies?

  She set Mary and Verna to make the lemon drop cookies while she and Wilma worked on brown sugar cookies. She’d selected those particular recipes because, quite frankly, she was growing weary of always making the same cookies. Sometimes she liked trying new creations, and for MayFest, she figured the Englischers would be more likely to purchase them during the festival. If the cookies turned out well, Edna would add them to their offering at Yoders’ Store to see how the tourists responded.

  Not even thirty minutes later, the first batch of cookies was baking in the oven, while several other baking pans lined the counter, awaiting their turn. Two large plastic bowls were set to the side, holding more cookie dough ready to be dropped onto pans whenever they became available.

  Quietly, Edna assessed the damage in the kitchen. Flour covered the table and decorated the floor. Mixing bowls filled the sink, and Ella Mae was already busy washing them. Rachel had just put away the last of the supplies.

  “I don’t think you’ll have enough flour to bake rolls for tomorrow and more cookies,” Rachel announced. “You’re low on both.”

  Edna sighed. Even with the supplies that Verna had brought along, she’d suspected she would run out. She’d have to go into town to buy more. The thought of having to harness the horse and hitch it up to the buggy was about as appealing to her as the idea of driving through Friday afternoon traffic into Shipshewana, especially because she still had so much baking to do.

  Suddenly, an idea struck her.

  She looked at the clock. The first batch of cookies would be boxed up and the second batch cooling by three o’clock. That was right about the time that Jeremiah returned home from his job in town. She’d ask him to take the cookies to the Amish Aid table at MayFest. That way, Wilma and Verna could stay and bake more cookies and Jeremiah could stop at the store to purchase the necessary supplies. It was the perfect solution.

  Her eyes traveled to where Ella Mae stood at the sink, washing those dishes. It was amazing to Edna how different the two young women truly were. The more she looked for it, the more she saw their differences. And Edna knew—just knew!—that Ella Mae was the perfect young woman for her Jeremiah.

  Which only made her plan all the better.

  If she sent Jeremiah t
o town, surely he’d want company, Edna told herself. There’d be a lot of traffic, and parking the horse and buggy would be difficult. It was the perfect excuse to send Ella Mae with him. She could take the box of cookies to the Amish Aid table while he waited with the horse. It was also the perfect opportunity for the two of them to become familiar with each other during the nonthreatening task of delivering cookies to both the festival and Yoders’ Store.

  She smiled to herself. What a perfect idea! She’d be able to separate Rachel from Ella Mae and provide Jeremiah with the chance to talk with Ella Mae. Alone. Surely there could be no harm in that, and who would be the wiser if she gave both of them a gentle nudge? After all, wasn’t that what mothers were supposed to do for their little fledglings?

  RACHEL

  CHAPTER 26

  It was just after three o’clock when Rachel heard the rumbling of buggy wheels on the gravel announcing someone’s arrival at the Esh farm. A batch of cookies was cooling on the rack next to the stove, while another batch baked in the oven. The room smelled like a bakery, the sweet, comfortable scent of sugar filling the air. She looked up from where she sat next to Ella Mae, crocheting a potholder. To her surprise, her sister looked up, too. For a moment, they caught each other’s gaze.

  “Ah. Must be Jeremiah,” Edna said, smiling as she glanced at the clock. “Early, too. Must be lower attendance today at the auction because of MayFest.”

  To Rachel’s surprise, she noticed that Edna directed her words in Ella Mae’s direction.

  “Perhaps he would take these cookies to the Amish Aid table,” Edna continued, her eyes still focused on Ella Mae, who responded by concentrating on the potholder she was crocheting. “Would you be so kind as to run out and ask Jeremiah to keep his horse harnessed?” She paused and then, with a finger pressed against the side of her cheek as if thinking, added, “Mayhaps you could go with him, Ella Mae. Keep him company.”

  Pressing her lips together, Rachel frowned. If she’d been suspicious before, she now knew with certainty that Edna was pushing Ella Mae toward her son. Toward Jeremiah.

  Her heart raced, and she felt as if every nerve in her body were on fire. Why had Edna picked Ella Mae over her for Jeremiah?

  “I . . . uh . . .” The color drained from Ella Mae’s cheeks as she glanced nervously at Rachel.

  “Edna,” Wilma cut in abruptly. “Mayhaps Rachel could go along with Jeremiah? Ella Mae’s been—” She paused as if searching for a reason why the one sister should go in place of the other. Rachel waited, expectantly, for her mother’s excuse on her behalf. “—feeling poorly.”

  Rachel cringed. Of all possible excuses, that one was the worst, for sure and certain. She shut her eyes and leaned back in her chair, all hope now lost that she’d be able to ride with Jeremiah.

  “Oh?” Edna appeared surprised and stared at Ella Mae. “And here you worked all morning without complaint.” She clucked her tongue. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Ella Mae stammered, “Oh, I . . .”

  “Mayhaps Rachel might ride in her place?” Wilma offered, a last-ditch attempt to salvage the situation.

  But her hint clearly fell on deaf ears.

  Edna’s expression softened further as she studied Ella Mae, assessing her condition. “Poor girl. If you aren’t feeling well, Jeremiah can take you home, then. On the way to MayFest to drop off these cookies.”

  With a clenched jaw, Rachel watched as Ella Mae averted her eyes. Oh, Rachel knew that her sister had no interest in Jeremiah. But she couldn’t say anything without betraying the promise she’d made to Rachel. And, to make matters worse, their mother had told a tiny white lie to try to remedy the situation. Admitting that she felt fine now would only create more problems and, even worse, expose Rachel’s interest in Jeremiah as a suitor.

  Unaware of the significance of the momentary silence that fell over the room, Edna reached over and patted Ella Mae’s hand gently.

  “Go on, then,” Edna coaxed as she nodded toward the door. “Collect your things and go see Jeremiah. And don’t worry about coming tomorrow. I’ll see if one of the boys can help me.” For the briefest of moments, Edna’s eyes narrowed, and at that moment, Rachel knew without doubt what the older woman was thinking.

  Don’t say it, don’t say it, she willed silently.

  “Why, I know just the solution!” Her lips widened into a smile. “Jonas is home all day tomorrow, and he always enjoys being around the Englischers. Makes them laugh when he sits with them. And, believe it or not, he’s rather handy around the kitchen.” Her eyes traveled to Rachel as if thinking about something. “Ja, that’s the perfect solution. Jonas will fill in for Ella Mae tomorrow.”

  Inwardly, Rachel groaned. Nothing could make her feel more poorly than knowing she’d have to work alongside Jonas the following day. Why hadn’t her mother thought to say that she, not Ella Mae, had been feeling poorly?

  “In fact,” Edna said slowly, as if an idea had just dawned on her, “would you mind taking some lemonade out to Jonas, Rachel? You can ask him about lending a hand.”

  For what felt like an eternity, all eyes fell upon her. Rachel, however, couldn’t speak. She’d managed to avoid Jonas all day. The last thing she wanted to do was have to ask him anything, never mind bring him lemonade. She didn’t even want to speak to him. Yet she knew that she couldn’t say such a thing to Edna. Besides being rude, such words would embarrass her mother.

  Swallowing, Rachel nodded and, reluctantly, got to her feet. She set her crocheting on the seat of her chair and made her way into the kitchen. When she passed her mother, she thought she heard her whisper “I’m sorry” to her, but she couldn’t be sure. Oh, she’d bet her mother was sorry, all right. Rachel knew that they’d exchange some words in the buggy about how the events of the afternoon had panned out.

  Carrying a glass in one hand and a pitcher of lemonade in the other, Rachel made her way outside and walked toward the outbuilding.

  In the two weeks they’d been helping Edna, Rachel hadn’t paid much attention to the building. She’d noticed that the framing had gone up last week. Now, however, she saw that most of it was already enclosed. As annoying as Jonas was, Rachel could see he was a talented carpenter.

  “What ho!” he called out as she stepped into the building through the open doorway. “Such a kind gesture, Rachel Schwartz! I never would’ve thought you to be so considerate!”

  “Oh, don’t you ‘what ho’ me,” she retorted. “Edna asked me to bring this to you.”

  He snapped his fingers as if disappointed.

  Setting the lemonade pitcher onto his work table, she handed him the glass.

  “Not gonna pour it for me?”

  “Not a chance.” Rachel took a step back. “You look able-bodied enough.”

  He rolled his eyes as he filled up the glass.

  “Your mother also asked me to tell you she’s going to need your help tomorrow.” Rachel watched as he drank the entire glass of lemonade. “You’re going to get sick if you drink that too fast.”

  Smacking his lips together, he poured another glassful from the pitcher. “So you do care.”

  She scoffed and turned her head away.

  “Well, I’m happy to help her,” Jonas said. He glanced around the building. “Not much more I can do here anyway. Need the electrician to come so we can hook up the fans and lights.”

  Electricity? Rachel gasped.

  Before she could object, he held up his hand to stop her. “Don’t go running to the bishop yet, Rachel. We’re hooking the lights up to solar.”

  “He approved that?”

  “He did, indeed.” Jonas sipped at the lemonade. “And the company’s putting the panels in for free, so it won’t even cost us a penny.”

  Rachel raised her eyebrows. That was impressive, indeed.

  “It’s part of a government program, they said. To encourage more folks to do the same.”

  “I see,” she commented.

  He stared at the roofli
ne. “Putting the solar panels on the back of the building. That way it won’t look so ugly from the haus.” He pointed to the ceiling. “Fans will go there,” he said and then moved his hand, “and there. Will make it nicer for the guests in the summer months. Gets hot here.”

  She made a face. “I know. I live in Shipshewana, too.”

  He gave her a sheepish smile.

  For a moment, Rachel looked around. She crossed her arms over her chest and took a few steps into the large room. It would certainly accommodate Edna’s needs. In fact, Rachel realized that the Esh family would be able to host worship service in this room in far greater comfort than they probably did in their own home.

  With the beams still exposed, Rachel could see that a lot of work had gone into constructing this building. The small room off the back was certainly for a toilet and sink. There was a larger room on the side, and she wandered over to peek at it. The kitchen would most likely be located there, with a wide doorway that opened to the yard just to the rear of the house.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “You did all this?”

  “I did,” he admitted without a hint of pride.

  She crossed the room to where he stood. “It’ll be a fine building when it’s finished, Jonas.”

  He gave a little laugh. “You sound surprised.”

  “I am.” She wasn’t going to lie. “You don’t strike me as the most industrious of sorts.”

  “Ouch.”

  Pressing her lips together, she reached for the pitcher of lemonade. “If you’re finished,” she said flatly, “I’ll go back to the haus now.”

  To her surprise, he reached out and covered her hand with his. She recoiled but, fortunately, didn’t release her hold on the pitcher. Instead, she looked at him, a harsh expression on her face that met a pained one on his. “You know, Rachel, that’s not fair. You hardly know me at all.”

  “I know more than enough, danke.” She jerked her hand free, leveling her gaze at him. “And I know you are nothing like your bruder, Jeremiah.” Squaring her shoulders, she stared down her nose at him. “You might take a lesson or two from him and learn how to be a bit more pleasant.” She looked around the room. “Clearly you have talent. It’s just in the area of character that you’re lacking.”