The Amish Bachelor's Baby

by Jo Ann Brown

  Not that he could get within a foot of her when she carried her son, because Joey became hysterical each time he came near. He didn’t want to accuse Becky Sue of using her son as a shield to prevent Caleb from talking with her, but it sure felt that way.

  Again he wanted to apologize to Annie for saddling her with his cousin and her boppli. He didn’t, knowing Annie would push aside his words as she had before. Each time she spoke of being glad to help another member of the Leit, guilt rushed through him. He’d given her and her family a huge responsibility, which they’d accepted. In the meantime, he hadn’t managed to get in touch with Becky Sue’s parents. He’d left messages twice a day. The answering machine he’d hooked up in the bakery hadn’t been activated once.

  “Here we are,” he said as he stopped the buggy by the hitching rail.

  “You’ve got a sign.” She pointed to the simple plank he’d painted with Hartz Bakery. Underneath that, it said Not Open Sundays.

  He planned to add the hours of operation later and edge it with strips of wood. Once the frost left the ground, he’d set it in place in front of the bakery. “Figured it was something I could do now.”

  “Gut idea.” Annie opened the door on her side before he could reach for his.

  Stepping out, he threw the warmed blanket over Dusty. He patted his horse before motioning for Annie to follow him to the door. By the time he reached it, his fingers were stiff with the cold. He fumbled with the key. The new lock didn’t seem to want to open, but he finally unlocked it and threw the door open. He stepped aside so Annie could go in first.

  When he heard her sigh with pleasure as she stepped into the kitchen, he hurried after her and switched on the lights. They showed the dust and dirt, as well as the water stains on the ceiling. No matter. By the time the bakery opened, every inch of the building would have been cleaned and painted. He wanted to impress the health inspector with the cleanliness of his bakery.

  The temperature inside was around fifty degrees but felt as balmy as summer in comparison with the outdoors. He unbuttoned his coat, letting the warmth banish the chill seeping through him. He recoiled when an elbow almost hit his chest, and he realized Annie was unwinding her scarf. She must not realize how close they stood to each other.

  He couldn’t be unaware of her, however. There was something about her that drew his eyes whenever she was nearby. She was so full of life, always looking on the best side of every situation.

  Why hadn’t one of the single men in the settlement asked her to walk out with him? Were they focused, as Caleb was, on establishing a toehold in the hollow? No, that wasn’t true. They’d had three weddings last fall, and he’d heard rumors of other relationships or seen people pairing off to share a ride or a walk home after church services.

  But he’d never heard Annie’s name mentioned or seen her leave with anyone other than her family. It shocked him that he’d taken such notice of her without his realizing.

  Caleb shed his coat and hung it and his black wool hat on a rack where aprons and towels would be stored. He took her thick shawl and coat and placed them next to his. He tossed his gloves on the lone cupboard set against the wall. The rest of the storage units remained in boxes, waiting for him to install them.

  Annie untied her bonnet and set it on top of a cardboard box as high as her waist. Looking around, she said, “You’re going to have more cupboards than every kitchen combined along Harmony Creek.”

  “I bought the appliances and cupboards from the owner of Summerhays Stables, who’d planned to renovate the family’s kitchen. When they put an ad in The Penny Pincher, I jumped at the chance.”

  Annie didn’t seem as surprised as he’d been at the high-end quality of the gas stove and ovens as well as the massive refrigerator and matching freezer that would take up almost half of the large room. Like his sister, Annie counted Sarah Kuhns as a gut friend. Sarah had worked as a nanny in the Summerhayses’ home until the end of the year, so Annie knew how fancy the Englischers’ house was.

  Caleb was astonished by how self-conscious he was to show Annie around the kitchen. So far, he’d fixed broken windows and cleaned out debris. Once cabinets were installed over the concrete floor and the appliances set in their proper places, he planned to paint the fly-speckled walls. With a new furnace in the cellar, it was no longer so damp and cold the paint would peel off the walls almost as soon as he put it up.

  What would Annie think of his future shop? Would she come to see it as he did, with ovens heating the space and wondrous-smelling goodies waiting in simple glass cases out front? Could she imagine, as he did, a day when the bakery would be crowded with eager customers?

  He discovered he was holding his breath in anticipation of her reaction and forced himself to draw air in and out.

  “You’ve done a lot of thinking about this,” Annie said.

  “I have.”

  “I can’t wait for Leanna to see it. She says our kitchen would be easier to work in if we got rid of the appliances, which are older than we are.”

  He smiled, glad she could envision what he’d planned. “I dream big, I guess.”

  “There’s no sin in that. The gut Lord gave us the ability to find the best ways to walk the path He’s given us.” Without a pause, she asked, “What sort of counters are you planning to use here in the kitchen?”

  As he explained why he’d chosen quartz over marble for the area where bread would be kneaded and dough rolled out, he was delighted to have such a responsive audience. She asked questions, some he hadn’t considered, and he thought of Inez’s comment about how Annie had lots of ideas.

  He again urged her to share them. Changes to his bakery would be fine as long as she didn’t try to change him, too. He’d had enough of that with Verba.

  “Komm into the front room,” Caleb said, motioning to the other room. “It’s where customers will be served.”

  She paused in the doorway and rapped her knuckles against the wall. At the hollow sound, she said, “You might want to consider a pass-through window here. Your customers could speak to whoever’s in the kitchen. That would allow for special requests or questions about ingredients. So many people must be careful about allergies or gluten.”

  “I like that idea, though I’d have to make sure the kitchen was kept extra neat and tidy.”

  “If you don’t want customers to see bowls filled with dough or bread rising, you could put bifold shutters on the window.” She moved so she could appraise the wall. “Add a sign saying whether the baker is available, and you’ll have customers who feel free to ask questions.”

  “Watch your step,” he warned when she turned to follow him to the center of the customer area.

  It was a little larger than the kitchen, but unlike the concrete in the other room, this space had wide, dusty floorboards. He grimaced at several that had warped to the point the nails had popped, making the floor treacherous to anyone not paying attention to where they walked.

  “Those boards look as if they’re trying to escape,” Annie said.

  “From what I’ve been told, this building has been empty for more than ten years since the feed store that was in here closed.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a square cut into the floor.

  “It leads to the cellar. Nothing there but cobwebs. There were mice, but I think they’re gone.”

  He expected her to shudder, as most women did when mice were mentioned. She simply nodded and walked to the large front windows. Each had a checkerboard of wooden mullions.

  “Did you have to replace any of these?” she asked.

  “About a half-dozen panes. The yard out front was overgrown. Kids with mischief on their minds wouldn’t risk the briars to get close enough to break many windows. I finished getting rid of the last thorn thickets the day before the first hard frost hit.” He leaned a shoulder against the wall where a poster f
or some old-fashioned power tool was flaking into oblivion. “I didn’t want to come over here that day, but if I hadn’t, I would have had to wait until spring to finish digging them up. That could have meant opening later than the first week of May.”

  “Your customers wouldn’t have wanted to walk through an obstacle course of bushes.” She toed another loose board. “Have you considered painting this floor? A simple pale tan. It wouldn’t show dirt as much as a dark floor, and the paint would seal in any splinters, so you don’t have to worry about little ones getting hurt if they’re on their hands and knees.”

  “That’s a gut idea.”

  She gave him a cheeky grin. “I try to have only gut ideas.”

  Not quite sure how to reply, he continued with his tour. “The display cases will be here by the door.”

  “What about over there?” she asked, pointing to the other side of the room.

  Caleb shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe a display rack or something else. I haven’t given it much thought.”

  “How about putting small tables and chairs there?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “You should be able to find something. They don’t have to match. What do the Englischers call the style with mismatched furniture? Leanna was talking about it the other day because one of the houses she cleans is decorated that way. Shabby something or other,” she laughed. “Oh, I remember. Shabby chic. Didn’t you have some small tables in the barn when you and Miriam lived there before your house was ready?”

  “Ja. They’d have to be refinished before they could be used.”

  “Paint them instead. It’s quicker and will add color to this space.”

  “Let me think about it. Having the tables and chairs will be gut in case someone wants to sit while they’re waiting.”

  She frowned in thought. “Have you considered selling kaffi, too?”

  “No.”

  “You should. Englischers like to have a cup when they’re enjoying a sweet roll or a muffin. Plain folks do, too, from what I’ve seen at the farmers market and the hardware store. You’ve got enough parking space outside to let people linger here. They might buy more when they see what other people order. It’s like free publicity, because nothing helps sell sweets like someone taking a bite and saying, ‘That’s delicious.’” She looked up at the ceiling where the beams laced together in a simple square pattern. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get Leanna’s opinion on flavors of kaffi. She knows a lot about them because she’s tried many different ones.”

  “All right.”

  “How about free samples? Have you considered that?”

  “Samples of what?”

  “You could have a product of the day. Maybe you decide to make apple-cider doughnuts. You could put the doughnut holes out as a free sample. If they go fast, you can make apple-cider doughnut holes the next day and sell them. You could expand your products.”

  “I could.” Caleb’s head reeled.

  Inez had been right. Annie had lots of ideas. He wondered how anyone else would ever be expected to keep up with her rapid-fire thinking.

  But she wasn’t finished. Facing him, she asked, “Do you think your customers will be tourists or local folks?”

  “I’m hoping to have both.”

  He wondered if she’d heard him as she surveyed the room again, her gaze lingering on the far wall. Walking over to it, she stretched out her arms as far as they could go.

  Again he was amazed by how small she was. Her personality was so massive she seemed taller than he was. But she was shorter—the right height, if he were to draw her to his chest, that he could place his cheek against the top of her kapp. His heart thudded as he imagined how she’d feel in his arms.

  “This wall is wide enough you could display a queen-size quilt.” She turned to him and smiled, her turquoise eyes alight with excitement. “Some shops in Pennsylvania take quilts on consignment.”

  “I know, but I’m not familiar with how it works.”

  “The shopkeepers in our area would keep thirty percent of what the quilt sells for, which could be a tidy sum when Englischers will spend close to a thousand dollars for homemade quilts.”

  “Do you quilt?” He tried to figure how she’d find time to work at his bakery, take care of her family—and his—and make quilts.

  “I can, but I’m not great at it. However, Leanna is a clever seamstress and has a gut eye for the colors and patterns tourists look for.” She smiled. “I’m grateful to her for doing most of our mending, as well. She can repair a rip and make it appear as if there never was any damage. Right now, she’s finishing up a quilt she plans to donate to the mud sale for the fire department.”

  “I thought she preferred to spend her time with her goats.”

  “She enjoys them, especially feeding and milking the does.”

  “Speaking of milking, don’t think I’ve forgotten the challenge you gave me.”

  “What challenge?”

  “To convince you that you could like spending time doing barn chores.”

  She laughed, “That’s not going to happen. Ask Leanna. She already agrees with you.”

  He didn’t listen as she continued. How many times had she mentioned her sister’s name, lauding Leanna’s skills and kindness? Was this her way of trying to convince him he’d been wrong not to accept Annie’s offer to step aside when he’d hired her? No, she’d been insistent she wanted the job and her twin had other work.

  Maybe he was imagining how often she brought Leanna’s name into the conversation. He had enough complications on his hands. He didn’t need more.

  * * *

  Annie looked at Caleb, who had stopped responding to her suggestions. Had she overstepped herself by mentioning Leanna as she shared ideas? Today had been the first chance she’d had to keep her twin in the conversation.

  He’d been asking questions, and she’d thought her plan was working, but he’d become silent. She could see he was deep in thought. She halted what she was about to say next about having handiwork for sale in the bakery. Clamping her teeth over her lower lip, she struggled to hush the many ideas bouncing through her brain like helium balloons.

  She didn’t want to appear pushy by making too many suggestions. However, he’d invited her to share her ideas. Probably he hadn’t realized how many she had. She had to learn to temper the number she offered at one time.

  God, there must be a reason You put so many ideas in my head. Are You trying to help me help others, or are You giving me these ideas as a way to teach me a lesson? Do You want me to learn to hold my tongue, or do You want me to give voice to Your inspiration?

  Since she’d been old enough to realize not everyone blurted out idea after idea in an effort to find a solution, she’d been asking those questions. The answers hadn’t come to her. Ignoring her thoughts had made her miserable, though she’d been extra careful after being betrayed by her former boyfriend. Since then, she’d tried to limit what she said. She should have guessed the opportunity to give voice to them today would overwhelm Caleb.

  “Of course,” she said into the silence, “the bakery is yours, and you can do what you think best.”

  “I appreciate your suggestions, but let me think about them to see how they fit in with my plans.” Not giving her a chance to respond, he added, “There’s one more place to see. The utility room.”

  “It’s not in the cellar, is it?”

  His smile returned. “No. If the bakery’s business grows, I may look into using the cellar, but not until it’s clean. That’ll be a huge job.”

  “I’m not volunteering to do it.”

  “Me neither,” he laughed and motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen.

  Caleb had a lighthearted side to him she hadn’t seen often. His sister laughed and joked with her three friends in the Harmony Creek
Spinsters’ Club, but Caleb had had to deal with many important issues before he turned the leadership of the settlement over to their ordained leaders. That hadn’t allowed him time to be anything but serious.

  This Caleb Hartz was too appealing for her own gut. Instead of thinking how enticing his smile was and how his laugh made her feel as delighted as Joey with a new toy, she had to figure out a way for him to act like this when Leanna was with him. There had to be a way, and Annie was determined to find it.

  Caleb showed her the cramped closet with shelves on one side and space for crates on the other. It barely had room for a person to stand inside it and select something off the shelves. Its outer wall had once been a sliding door opening to the railroad tracks, but it was nailed shut.

  “It’s a shame this is a closet,” Annie said. “This old door would give extra character to the front room.”

  “I can move it there. I need to insulate in there, and putting in a regular wall would allow that.” He flashed her another smile. “An excellent idea, Annie.”

  Her knees seemed to melt with the warmth of his expression. It was wrong to react like this if she wanted to make a match between him and her sister, but she couldn’t stop the ripple of delight any more than she could have stopped a freight train on the tracks outside. When his gaze met hers, she wondered if she could remember how to breathe as time seemed to stutter to a standstill.

  The moment shattered when the phone rang.

  Caleb jumped to answer it, and she took a steadying breath. She held it as she waited to see if Becky Sue’s family was calling.

  “That’s okay,” he said, hanging up the phone. He sighed, disappointment lengthening his face. “Wrong number.”

  “Becky Sue’s family will call.”

  “They should have by now.”

  “Maybe they didn’t feel right leaving a message because they weren’t sure who would hear it.”

  “Like Becky Sue?” He leaned against a crate, folding his arms over his chest. “I’d thought about that. A couple of the guys at the firehouse have offered to lend me a phone or let me use their number, so Becky Sue’s folks can reach them at any time, day or night. I’d hate to miss their call because I’m not here. I spoke with Eli, and he agreed that having the cell phone for that purpose would be all right, so I’m going to borrow one when I go to the firehouse for our meeting tonight.” He walked toward the door. “That’s all there is to see. Tomorrow we’ll get to work.”