“Nein. It’s just new. You’ll see.”
“I need to win the bakery contest next month at the fall festival so we can expand our menu. We have to start serving breakfast sandwiches and lunch in order to compete with Noah’s shop. We need that trophy to show we are the best.” Mary’s voice quivered.
Sarah paused her apple peeling. “So practice and win. I know you can do it. But I don’t think the bishop will let you display a trophy, symbolizing you think you are better than someone else.”
“If I win, I’ll tell them I don’t want the trophy. Mamm, will you help me pick out the perfect apple recipe? And give me some pointers on how to heighten the flavors and make them shine through for the judges? In the words of Noah’s little sister, so it will taste wow-wee?”
“Of course. And if you get too busy at the bakery, your Aent Lillia said Cousin Nettie would like to come and work with you.”
Mary wrapped her arms around Mamm and hugged. Her real mamm may have died, but her stiefmutter was always there for her. Sarah was sweet and always offered her love and support...but sometimes love couldn’t fix everything. It certainly hadn’t with Seth.
* * *
Saturday morning, Mary hitched King to her buggy. His big brown eyes danced with excitement at the chance to stretch his legs. She straightened her dress and settled back on the black seat of her open buggy. She shook the reins, nudging the steed down the drive, out onto the road and past the white picket fence. King set his own pace and fell into a steady trot.
The scent of wildflowers saturated the breeze and enticed her to draw a deep breath. The fresh fragrance cleared her mind and invigorated her senses.
Sarah was right. Of course, Mary could bake better than Noah. She’d baked all her life. Why hadn’t she purchased something from his bakery so she could have sampled his talent? Now it would be awkward if she went back and bought a cupcake. It would look suspicious.
Where the road paralleled the English River, she pulled back on the reins. “Whoa, King, slow down, big guy.” She wanted to enjoy the bright blue sky and the birds singing. The sun danced off the river like a thousand jewels just sitting there ready for plucking. Mary didn’t often see the sunrise. Usually she was already at work before now, but since the shop had so many baked goods leftover from yesterday, today they wouldn’t need to bake as much.
Pulling back on the reins, she steered King to a bare spot and stopped the buggy. Stepping down, she surveyed the riverbank until she spotted what she was looking for, a big rock positioned under a tree. She’d passed this spot hundreds of times and had always wanted to stop. It looked like the perfect place to sit, sort things out and organize her world into order once again.
She eased onto the rock, leaned back against the tree and watched the river flow and babble over rocks. The birds chirping, frogs jumping in the river and the relaxing sounds of nature soothed her mind. Her gaze landed on a leaf caught in the current, barreling down the river. It was the first fall leaf she’d seen, and it reminded her that change was coming—and she’d better get ready. She could no longer sit and do nothing.
The sound of tires crunching over sticks and rocks pulled her attention toward the road as an SUV stopped on the shoulder and parked. Noah Miller climbed out and headed in her direction. What did he want?
Mary scooted to the edge of the rock as she watched him approach. After her breakup with Seth, her life was just starting to return to some kind of normal, until Noah showed up in town.
His purposeful stride carried him to her side in seconds. Just as he stopped next to her, an annoying breeze kicked up, ruffled her apron, tugged a few strands of hair from her prayer kapp and tapped it against her cheek. And her day was only starting.
* * *
After choosing the shortest route over tall weeds to Mary’s rock, Noah slowed his pace when he reached the clearing. The glimpse of her perched beside the river framed by shrubs and trees filled him with a smile. “Are you okay, Mary? Did your buggy break down?”
She jerked her head around at his remark. “I’m fine. The river just looked so peaceful this morning it beckoned me to stop. I enjoy a quiet spot.” Her gaze swept over him before she turned toward the river. “Thanks for stopping.”
“I saw you at the grand opening, what did you think?” He wasn’t going to let her off that easily. He wanted to talk to her whether she liked it or not.
“I was merely putting in an appearance to pay my respects to a new shop opening. I wasn’t there long, but it looked like you had a nice turnout.”
“Okay, but what did you think?”
She kept her back to him. “It’s nice, but I’m a better baker, Noah.” She said teasingly.”
“Is that right?” He took a step back.
“That’s right” came a smug goading reply.
“Well, Miss Brenneman, I’m entering the fall festival baking contest. Are you?”
She jumped to her feet, whirled around to face him and lifted her chin. “Yes.”
“Good. Game on. Let the best baker win.” He laughed. She was sassy, but he wanted to pull her and that cute attitude into his arms. But the fear of looking like a complete and utter fool kept him away.
“You make it sound like a kid’s game.” She said the last word with a pout before she flattened her full lips into a straight line.
Noah started to leave, then stopped. “We both know there’s much more at stake here than merely winning a contest. At this point, it’s not even the money, is it? It’s the title, the trophy and the prestige that goes along with the achievement.”
“As usual, Noah, you’ve thought of it all.” Her eyes challenged his.
He took a step closer. “I’m surprised your bishop would actually allow you to enter. It’s such an open display of pride that you think your baking is so good you could actually win a contest.”
The surprise that covered her face told him she hadn’t thought about asking the bishop or the church for approval to enter the contest. It would be interesting to see how she maneuvered around that obstacle.
Without another word, he turned and tromped back to his car. A chuckle shook his body as he opened the door and sat. Yeah, this was not only going to be a game of skill, but one of wit.
He’d tasted Mary’s cupcakes. They were delicious, but his parents had trained him well in how to run their store and how to bake. He was a better baker than Jenny. That was the reason she took care of the books, and he baked and ran the store. He had a knack for figuring out what flavors complemented each other. And he might even be a better baker than Mary Brenneman.
At twenty years old, Noah didn’t have much experience with women. He’d never taken a girl out to the movies or ball games like most Englisch boys had. But he’d met a few women at the store, and they’d gone to lunch together. Most of them wore heavy makeup, short dresses or tight jeans. They flirted and pouted with red lips when he didn’t ask them out for more than lunch. Many of them had been attractive, yet none had interested him. Mary was different. She was natural and beautiful.
Noah glanced back at the river and at her sitting on the rock again. He’d asked her about his opening only because he’d wanted to stay and talk to her. The notion to tease her about the contest had just popped out, and it had gone a little further than he had planned. Now, in hindsight, he saw her point of view. His new business was taking some of her customers. To her, it wasn’t a tease.
One thing was for sure and certain, as his mamm would have said, he might have just made her angry enough to search for days to find that perfect recipe to beat him.
Chapter Three
Mary jumped to her feet as Noah drove away from the river. Tears sprang to her eyes. Surely the bishop and the Gmay, the church members, wouldn’t deny her this opportunity. Would they? Could they?
Nein, she hadn’t considered that. She participated last year, but they only p
aid the winner $200 then. This year, they were trying to attract more festivalgoers so they increased the prize money.
She raced to her buggy. Her hands shaking as she picked up the reins and set King to a smart pace. The buggy rocked as he lengthened his gait. A mile down the road, Mary turned into Bishop Yoder’s drive, parked and hurried to his front porch.
She hesitated at the door. It was early, maybe too early to pay the bishop a visit. She drew in a deep breath, blew it out and knocked.
After a few seconds, the door opened and Mrs. Yoder stared at her with a surprised look on her face. “Gut Morgen, Mary.” Rebecca waved her in. “You’re an early bird this morning.”
“Mornin’, Rebecca. Would it be possible to see the bishop? It’s important.”
“Of course. Wait right here.” The stout woman gave her a peculiar survey before hurrying down the hallway off the vestibule.
Mary inhaled a deep whiff of fresh-brewed coffee as she pressed her right hand to her heart to slow its runaway drumming. The last time she’d visited the bishop’s farm was a year ago when she had to inform him that Seth had canceled their wedding.
Bishop Yoder appeared at his office door. He nodded at his frau and headed toward Mary, his hair a bit mussed, as if he hadn’t planned on a visitor this early.
“Gut Morgen, Mary. It must be important for you to interrupt my prayer time.” His words were to the point but softly spoken.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about the time. I was on my way to work, but I can come back.” Heat rose to her cheeks as she turned toward the door.
“Nein, nein. I’m up. We can talk. Come.” He led the way down the hall to his office, motioned for her to go in, then stuck his head into the kitchen across the hall. “Rebecca, would you please bring us two cups of coffee?”
The room was small, cool and sparsely decorated with only a desk and three chairs, counting his. She sat in a hard wooden chair in front of his desk and waited for the bishop to give her a sign to start talking. He talked about the weather and asked about her family.
Rebecca knocked. After his reply, she set the tray on his desk and closed the door. He motioned for Mary to grab a cup. “Now, what is this all about?”
She took a sip and set the cup back on the tray. “I want to enter the fall festival baking contest and compete for the $10,000 prize.” She blurted out as a nudge of excitement loosened her tongue.
The bishop’s eyes widened. “Mary, our belief is that we live in community and give up personal expression. The Ordnung calls us to live in submission to God’s will. We live in harmony with the others in our community. We do not compete for who is best.”
His words speared her heart. Mary straightened her back as her old rebellious nature clutched her. “Bishop, the bakery is our livelihood. Daed and Mamm have medical bills from the twins’ birth that we do not burden the community with. We pay from Sweet Delights’ revenue.”
“Jah, I understand. But we do not seek acclaim for what we do. We strive for a godly life to attain eternal salvation.”
Mary sat forward on the chair and squared her shoulders. “I am not doing it to brag or boast. In fact, I have very little chance of even winning. Many who enter the contest will have gone to culinary school, like the winner of the contest last year. With the new grocery opening across the street, our bakery has already lost business. This is no different from offering a loaf of bread for sale. I make it, and if they like it, they purchase it. I need to compete with other businesses, and to do that, I need to expand our menu. In order to do that, I need the prize money.”
The bishop rubbed his hand down his beard as he directed his gaze toward the ceiling.
Leaning back, Mary gripped the arms of the hard, wooden chair. The longer he took, the more her pulse increased and the further her heart sank.
Bishop Yoder lowered his gaze to her. “Jah, it would appear that you have the same right to offer your product, but this is highly unusual. Accepting the money for a recipe is one thing, but you must not accept a trophy. And the other ministers may want to discuss it, but we will see. I’ll let you know. Now, Rebecca will have my breakfast ready.” He stood, motioned toward the door and followed her down the hall to the entrance.
Heading out of the haus, Mary blew out a deep sigh. She climbed in the buggy and relaxed back against the seat for her ride to Sweet Delights. She unhitched King, led him to the corral and hurried to the back door.
As she approached, a light shining out a high window caught her attention. Had she left the light on yesterday when she went home? Nein, she always walked through her routine. Her keys jangled as she unlocked Sweet Delights’ back door. She drew in a deep breath of humid Iowa August air. She pushed the door slowly open and peeked in.
She laughed at the sight of her assistant and then stepped into an atmosphere scented with medium-roast hazelnut brewing. “You’re in early, Amanda.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” Amanda yawned and clasped an elbow over her mouth for a second. “Coffee is almost ready.”
“Danki, I could use some. I had to stop by Bishop Yoder’s haus and ask if I could enter the baking contest. He’s going to let me know.” Mary stowed her quilted bag in the closet and grabbed the ingredients for a batch of sugar cookies.
Within a few minutes, she was popping them in the oven and starting on the chocolate chip batch. Amanda’s yeast bread and rolls cooling on the counter sent warm, steamy whiffs of honey and cinnamon into the air.
“You’re in early, too. Couldn’t sleep? Thinking about Noah’s bakery or Noah?” Amanda teased.
“Neither.” That man infuriated her. “After Seth ran off to go live with the Englisch, I just want to avoid men, especially if they are Englisch. They can’t be trusted. I thought I knew Seth, knew what he wanted. I thought he wanted me. I was blind.” Jah, he talked about the Englisch world and wanting to be able to do whatever he wanted with no rules to restrict him. But she’d thought it was just talk. When Seth asked her to go with him and she said nein, he’d strolled out of her haus and out of her life...forever.
Amanda pulled a pan of tea biscuits from the oven and set them to cool. “We both are gut bakers, but we have terrible taste in men. I’ve always liked Ethan Lapp, but he doesn’t know I exist, at least not anymore. When Ethan and I were younger, we were neighbors, grew up together, went fishing and palled around together every chance we got. I guess my feelings grew and his didn’t. Now whenever he’s in the bakery, he just asks me about Jenny. He asked me if I knew if she had a boyfriend. I’ve seen him talking to her.”
“I’m sorry, Amanda. Do you want me to casually let it drop to Ethan that you like him?”
“Nein, but danki for the offer.
“You, my friend, are a lovely slim redhead, and a great baker. You’ll find your Mr. Wunderbaar. He’ll come along when you least expect it and sweep you away from my bakery.”
“Danki. You are sweet to say that.”
Mary tucked her broken engagement in the attic of her mind and slammed the door closed. “I have news. There is no chance Noah and I will become friends. He told me this morgen that he’s entering the fall baking contest. He’s planning on winning, taking the prize and getting all the benefits, meaning customers. He is now a rival.”
Amanda gasped. “Don’t worry, you’ll win.”
“Jah, I’ll try to find the perfect recipes.” Mary pulled her cookies from the oven while her mind wandered back to Noah at the river. She hated to admit it, but it was nice of him to stop and see if she had a problem.
Amanda pushed the cart up to the counter. “Ready to load?”
“Yes, danki, time got away from me.” Mary helped Amanda pile the cart with rolls, bread and cookies, laughing like two young girls as they filled the display case.
At 7:00 a.m., Mary pulled the dead bolt back and flipped the sign to Open. Before she reached the counter, Carolyn R
opp pushed the door open, bumping her Miller’s Farm-fresh Grocery bag against the doorjamb.
“Morgen, Mary.” She sighed. “I’ll sure be glad when canning season is over so I can get some rest. A loaf of wheat bread, please.”
Mary picked up a loaf and turned to Carolyn. “Did you say one or two loaves?”
“Just one.”
“Last week you got two.” Mary bagged the loaf and set it on the counter.
Carolyn’s face turned a bright red as she fished the money out of her purse. “I stopped at the grocery across the street. His bread looked so gut that I just had to try one.”
“Of course, I understand.” Heat engulfed Mary’s chest. She pushed her mouth into a smile as Carolyn whirled around and headed toward the door.
Frank Wallin held the door open as Carolyn hustled out. He raised his brow at her abrupt exit but nodded a greeting and headed for the counter. “Good morning, Mary. I’ll take my usual.”
She nodded and prepared his order. “I haven’t seen you for a couple of days, Frank, been running late?”
“Ah, yeah...running late.” Taking his breakfast, he laid down his money. “No change.” He hastily turned and headed for the door.
Amanda poked her head out of the kitchen. “See, your customers are loyal. They just visited Noah’s store because it was his grand opening.”
Mary walked across the bakery, glanced out the window and noticed some of her other customers walking on the sidewalk, carrying paper bags with Noah’s logo.
“Maybe, we’ll see.” The pit of her stomach flipped like a rubbery pancake. She returned to the counter just as Emily heaved the door open and jumped aside as it swept back closed.
“Good morning, Emily. What can I get you today?”
“I don’t have any money. I just wanted to say hi. I was bored watching Noah stock shelves.”
“You’re not helping?”
The Amish Baker's Rival Page 3