A child brings them together...

Will their differing Amish beliefs pull them apart?

When his son breaks one of baker Sarah Gingerich’s prized possessions, widower Caleb Brenneman insists the boy make amends by doing odd jobs in her bake shop. A childless widow, Sarah can’t help falling for the boy...or his farmer father. But Caleb is progressive New Order Amish while Sarah holds traditional beliefs. Though they’re worlds apart, are they a perfect match?

MARIE E. BAST grew up on a farm in northern Illinois. In the solitude of country life, she often read or made up stories. She earned a BA, an MBA and an MA in general theology and enjoyed a career with the federal government, but characters kept whispering her name. She retired and now pursues her passion of full-time writing. Marie loves walking, golfing with her husband of twenty-seven years and baking. Visit Marie at mariebast.Blogspot.com.

Also By Marie E. Bast

The Amish Baker

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The Amish Baker

Marie E. Bast

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09482-5

THE AMISH BAKER

© 2019 Marie Elizabeth Bast

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Caleb laid his hand over hers.

“Let me speak first.” His voice was warm and laced with excitement. “We have never had an understanding, but I think you care for me. Is that true?”

“Jah.”

“More than just as a friend?”

A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “Jah.”

“Gut. Until we figure out how to get around being from different Orders, can we just have an understanding that we want to see each other?”

Her fitful night’s sleep last evening had filled her with fear of never seeing Caleb and his kinner again. Now as she looked out the buggy and across the street, that fear lunged at her throat. Her bishop was staring straight at her.

Caleb’s request met with her approval, for sure, but given their differences and the scowl on the bishop’s face, she was equally certain Bishop Yoder would not agree. But how far would he go to make her rethink her decision?

Dear Reader,

I grew up on a farm in northern Illinois, not far from Amish country. When we would drive to town, I’d see Amish buggies and horses. That form of transportation looked like fun, so I asked my dad why we didn’t have a horse and buggy. To my disappointment, he explained it was part of their religion to give up modern devices. From then on, the Amish have intrigued me.

Now I live seventy-six miles from Kalona, Iowa, and visit there often. The Amish started to move to Iowa in 1846 to live a more secluded lifestyle. The different groups—including the Old Order, New Order and Beachy Amish—have settled in seven Iowa counties.

In The Amish Baker, Sarah Gingerich, who is Old Order, and Caleb Brenneman, who belongs to the New Order, struggle with what their church Ordnung requires and what their hearts want. Like Sarah and Caleb, sometimes we might feel as though God has left our side. That is, until we discover that the impossible can come true and God is faithful and has never left us.

I love to hear from readers. Tell me what you enjoyed or what inspired you. Email me at Bast.Marie@yahoo.com, visit me at mariebast.blogspot.com and facebook.com/marie.bast, or follow me on Twitter.

Blessings,

Marie E. Bast

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

—Jeremiah 29:11

My husband and sons, you three are the joy of my life.

In loving memory of Lois Walline, my mom, and Blanche Browning, my aunt, the two best cooks and bakers I have ever known. I miss you dearly.

Also, to Melissa, my editor and wizard in disguise, for believing in me, and Scribes202, my critique partners.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One
Washington County, Iowa

Sarah Gingerich stomped into her Amish Sweet Delights bakery an hour earlier than her usual arrival time of 4:00 a.m. Who could sleep a wink after what Bishop Yoder had said to her yesterday? She slid the dead bolt closed. He had his nerve.

Straightening her shoulders, she shook off the indignant words. Gelassenheit—calm down and let it go.

She scooted to the pantry for flour, mixed the bread dough, tossed it on a floured board and began kneading. After folding the soft mass over, she floured and kneaded again.

As she punched the dough a little harder than necessary, the bishop’s words came rushing back to her. Heat rose from her neck to her ears, burning her now as it had when he had said them. She couldn’t believe that during his preaching on the rewards of being a wife and mother, he had stared straight at her the entire time. Later, he called her aside and mentioned it was time she stopped mourning Samuel and remarried. Why would he say such a thing?

Maybe it was just a casual comment, or maybe the bishop thought he was looking out for her best interest. That’s all. She steered her hands back to kneading and mentally put a circle around her bad thoughts and tossed them away.

Tears pressed at the corners of her eyes. They caught on her lashes, and she batted them away. She had her daed’s bakery and the apartment upstairs; she didn’t need an ehemann for support. Sarah plopped the dough in a bowl, covered it and pushed it to the side. Then she grabbed more ingredients, stirred up several batches of yeast rolls and set them to rise.

While the yeast worked, she stirred up a spice cake and shoved it into the oven. When the cake tested done, she pulled it out and popped the bread and rolls in to bake. She set the timer and started on the pies and cookies.

When the first batch of baked goods had cooled, she carted the pastries to the front of the shop and placed them in the display case. A job Hannah Ropp, her friend and assistant, usually performed. Hannah loved to decorate the shelves with rows of cookies and cupcakes in cute patterns—maybe in a heart shape.

Where is Hannah? She’s usually here by now.

Sarah set the goodies the kinner liked on the bottom shelf. Treats adults normally selected took over the middle shelf. The best sellers, breads and rolls claimed the prize spot on the top shelf.

Without Hannah, she didn’t have time to arrange the shelves neatly. Her eyes roamed over the display. Not as gut a job as her friend would have done, but good enough for now.

The bakery’s cell phone, which the Ordnung allowed for business, jingled and lit up with Hannah’s name. She touched the screen. “Where are you?”

“I figured you’d forget. I have a doctor’s appointment this morning and will be in around noon.”

“I’m sorry. I did forget.” Tension laced her voice.

“Oh, no. Is something wrong?”

“I wanted to tell you what Bishop Yoder said to me yesterday.”

“What did he say?” Hannah asked, her voice steeped in concern.

“He told me it’s time to get remarried.” Sarah blurted into the phone. “I’m happy. I don’t want an ehemann.”

“Ach! I told you that I heard the bishop had a habit of pressuring some of the widows into remarrying. Now do you believe me?”

“Hannah, that’s gossiping and a sin.” Sarah shook her head.

“It’s only a sin if it’s not true. This is true.”

“Shame on you, Hannah Ropp. You’re looking for loopholes in the Bible.”

“Jah, jah. Gotta go. Hang on ’til I get there, and we’ll talk about it.”

“Don’t hurry. I’m managing.” Sarah hit the end button.

She grabbed a wet dishcloth and started wiping off the crumbs she’d spilled on the counter. As her hand zipped across the Formica, it bumped the walnut papa and mama bears Samuel had carved, knocking them over with a bang. Sarah jerked her hand back.

Slowly, she picked each one up—holding her breath—and surveyed for damage before setting it upright. She heaved a long sigh.

Both fine.

The bears were one of the few things she had left to remind her of Samuel. They brought her comfort and served as a good form of advertisement for the Amish artisans in the area. Many Englischers had admired the walnut carvings and asked for directions to the woodcraft shop.

The bishop’s words flitted through her mind again. Working fourteen hours a day in the bakery gave her little time to care for a family. Would an ehemann allow her to keep the shop? The bakery was her life. It was all she had. She couldn’t give it up. Not to mention, she had an obligation to the town—Kalona—and to her customers.

When Samuel had died three years ago, she had stumbled through those first few weeks as if she were groping her way around a dark house without a lantern. Nothing made sense, she couldn’t make a decision and she had no desire to bake. She had promised to liebe, honor and cherish Samuel “’til death do us part,” but she’d figured that meant after fifty years of marriage and seven kinner.

Her heart had shattered as if it were a crystal dropped upon the floor. Hannah had helped her plow through the sorrow of Samuel’s death.

But life had had no meaning after Samuel died until she returned to the bakery and continued with her cookbook that she would dedicate to her parents and the bakery they loved. Some of their recipes mingled in with her recipes.

Nein. She couldn’t give up the bakery. She wouldn’t. The bishop couldn’t make her remarry.

Could he?

She didn’t believe Hannah’s gossip. Surely the bishop was only matchmaking those who wanted a spouse.

After grabbing a set of pot holders, she opened the oven door to a steamy whiff of white bread, mingled with the aroma of fresh cinnamon rolls and buttered buns. She set the pans on racks to cool. Pivoting, she glanced at the clock.

Ach. Almost time to unlock the front door.

Sarah pulled out the medium-roast and the decaf beans and started the coffee. While it brewed, she wrote the daily special on the chalkboard, then scooted to the front door, pulled the dead bolt back and flipped the sign to Open.

She puttered around the shop, setting out foam cups and filling the napkin holders. When the doorbell jingled, she stashed the napkin bags behind the counter and looked up into the face of an Amish man she’d never seen before. Judging from his trimmed beard and hair, he was New Order Amish. In her Old Order community, men didn’t trim their beards.

“Welkum.” Sarah whisked out her best smile.

“Danki.” His voice was as quiet as his footfalls. Glancing at the pastries, he smiled and shook his head as if the decision were too much for this early in the morning.

“Can I help you?” Sarah’s gaze locked with his sage-green eyes, which were set against sun-bronzed skin. A handsome face for sure and for certain. Ach. She stared. He’d think her a forward woman. Her cheeks heated like roasting marshmallows and she glanced away.

He removed his straw hat and twirled it around in his hands as he studied the rolls, cookies and pies. Each received a generous amount of time.

“Gut morgen. I’m Caleb Brenneman. How do you do?”

Sarah’s stomach tickled as he looked at her. “Fine, danki. I’m Sarah Gingerich. I own the bakery.”

“Nice to meet you. I’ll have a cinnamon roll and a cup of that gut-smelling coffee.”

She handed him the roll and coffee, then gestured to the five tables and chairs by the windows. “Feel free to have a seat.”

After serving the others who’d trailed into the bakery behind Caleb, Sarah refilled the display case but sensed the newcomer’s eyes watching her work. Did he know her? She couldn’t place him. Because of the bakery, she was acquainted with most of the Plain community around Kalona, at least by sight. Still, the Amish were scattered in seven counties in Iowa, so there were plenty she hadn’t met.

She glanced his way at the exact moment when he looked at her. Ach—caught! A smile brewed deep in her chest and crept onto her lips. “Do you live around here, Caleb?”

“I bought a farm north of town.”

“You’re from Iowa then?”

“I grew up here. When I met my frau, I moved to Seymour, Missouri. After Martha got cancer, I moved her and our family back, so she could have treatment in Iowa City, and we’d be closer to my bruder Peter and his family.”

The doorbell jingled and Sarah reluctantly peeled her eyes away from Caleb and focused on her customer. “Gut mornin’.”

“Morning, Sarah.” Mrs. Wallin smiled as she entered the bakery. “Just a loaf of white bread today.”

Caleb finished his cinnamon roll and coffee, tossed his cup in the wastebasket next to the counter and tipped his hat to Sarah. “Have a gut day.”

Sarah gave a nod. “You, too.” As she was bagging the white bread for Mrs. Wallin, she peered up and caught his wink, and had to steady her hands.

Her pulse jumped. Her mind raced in a hundred different directions, but only for a few seconds. What was she thinking? She didn’t want to remarry. The bakery was her life.

* * *

Caleb strode toward his buggy, his heart pounding like a blacksmith’s hammer. Sarah’s chocolate-brown hair and cinnamon-brown eyes had stolen his attention. He’d tried to refocus but couldn’t keep his eyes from following her. He could have sat in the bakery all day, staring at her as she worked.

Still, it was unmistakable with her navy blue dress and the shape of her prayer kapp. She was Old Order Amish. If she were single, where could the relationship go? He enjoyed the liberties his church allowed—shorter beard and hair, Sunday school and Bible study. The Old Order wanted only the church to interpret Scriptures, while New Order encouraged small group study.

His church even believed in church outreach and helping the non-Amish. They also permitted electric conveniences, such as the tractor, mechanical milker and refrigerator, rototiller, lawn mower, chainsaw and propane gas. Without grown sohns to help Caleb, he needed such things on the farm.

He must chase thoughts of the beautiful baker out of his head. A relationship between Old Order and New Order would never work. Jah, he must forget about Sarah with the cinnamon-brown eyes and concentrate on his farming and crops.

Caleb climbed into his buggy and tapped the leather straps against Snowball’s back. “Giddyap, slowpoke. I have chores waiting at home.”

As the horse trotted along, Caleb gawked at his neighbors’ fields and mentally compared theirs to his. Jah, his looked gut, maybe better.

Caleb parked the buggy by the barn, stepped down and welcomed the cool breeze that swept across his face. He pulled his hat off, swiped a hand over his brow and then plopped his hat back on his head.

His mind steered his hands back to the job at hand. As he unhitched the horse and walked him to his stall, Caleb tried to push Sarah’s image from his head. What was wrong with him? He was acting like a sixteen-year-old bu who was getting ready to court.

This was nonsense. Martha had died only a year ago; it wasn’t time to start thinking about getting another frau.

Nein. Nein. Too soon.

* * *

Sarah glanced up as Melinda Miller maneuvered her shopping bags through the bakery doorway. “Congratulations on your sohn. I have a boppli gift for little Abraham’s mamm and daed to enjoy.” Sarah scooted to the kitchen, snatched the gift box off a table, returned to the front and handed the box to the new mamm. “I was going to drop it by after work today, but you saved me the trip.”

Melinda lifted the cover enough to peek in. “It’s a cookie shaped like a little buggy with a boppli in it. It looks delicious. Danki, Sarah.” She leaned over the counter, her face beaming like that of a five-year-old girl with a new dress. “A dozen maple-pecan rolls. Motherhood is wunderbaar. Too bad you and Samuel never had kinner.”

The words slammed into Sarah, wrapped around her scarred heart and squeezed. She and Samuel had wanted a kind, a child. Concealing the ache in her chest with a smile barely there, she worked swiftly to bag the order and hand it to Melinda. She took the money, slipped it into the drawer and then slumped a hip against the counter to help ease the pain.

“Danki, Sarah. I’ll see you next week.” Melinda opened the door carefully, trying not to bump her baked goods while guiding her shopping bags.

Alvin Studer held the door for Melinda. When she was through, he entered.

He walked by the display case, slowly checking out the sweets. “You’re a gut cook, Sarah.”

“Danki, Alvin, but you mean baker.”

“What?” He looked up, his eyes full of puzzlement.

“Never mind.” She waited for his order as he paced the floor, looking at breads and rolls, then stealing glances at her. He bent his tall, lanky frame closer to the display case and peered inside. His long face twisted with indecision.

Sarah’s mind wandered back to Caleb Brenneman. Remembering his handsome face pulled a smile across her mouth as she fought to push it away. Most Amish men didn’t come into the bakery, so she’d probably never see him again. That was gut—she’d forget about him in a few days.

“Have you made a selection yet, Alvin?”

He stepped to the counter and gave her a smile while his eyes roved over her. “A loaf of cinnamon-raisin bread.” He hesitated. “Would you like to go for a buggy ride with me Saturday night, Sarah?”

Stunned, she stepped back. She didn’t want to go for a ride with Alvin, or any other man. She had her life. It was comfortable, and she liked things as they were. But with Alvin, she’d heard he had hit his last frau, so the answer was an emphatic nein. Yet the idea of courting anyone who wasn’t Samuel frightened her.

How should she answer Alvin? She hated to be rude, though she wanted no misunderstanding in how she felt. “Danki, Alvin, but my shop requires all my time. When I’m not out front, I’m in the back, baking. I have no free time to squeeze in a buggy ride. Sorry, but that’s the life of a baker.”

His eyes turned dark and mean. His expression hinted that he wanted to say something but didn’t.

She drew in a ragged breath. Her hands fumbled as she plucked the bread from the shelf, almost dropping it. She shoved the loaf in a sack and set it on the counter. “Danki, Alvin.”

He stared at her. The doorbell jingled twice as the stout Bertha Bontrager bumped the door with her hip as she entered. Alvin didn’t flinch at the noise.

Sarah blew out the breath she was holding. “Afternoon, Bertha. What can I do for you today?”

“The bishop said you’d be receptive to my invitation,” Alvin whispered as he tossed Sarah a cold look and laid a five-dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change. I’ll see you next time.” He grabbed his sack and stomped out the door.

Sarah was stunned and winced as a shiver ran up her spine.

* * *

Sarah took advantage of the lull in business after the lunch hour and wiped down the counter. The door opened and Hannah whooshed in like a butterfly.

“Hullo. Sorry I’m late. My appointment took longer than I thought it would.”

“Don’t worry. I managed just fine.”

Hannah hurried to the sink and washed her hands while Sarah loaded a tray with cookies. “Have you baked the afternoon order yet?”

“Nein. I’ve been too busy.”

Hannah disappeared through the kitchen doorway. “I’ll start it.”

After the bell tinkled, a cool breeze swept over Sarah. She glanced up from cleaning the display case and froze as Bishop Yoder approached the counter.

“Do you have a cup of coffee and a slice of banana bread left? I’d like to sit and rest a spell.”

“Jah, but it’s the last cup of coffee in the pot so it’s free. Sit. I’ll bring it to the table.”

Her stomach roiled at the bishop’s presence. She poured the strong brew and laid a slice of banana bread on a plate. She drew a deep breath. He very seldom came into her bakery. His frau was one of the best cooks in the community. She carried a tray with his coffee and banana bread to the table and set it down in front of him. “Enjoy, Bishop Yoder.”

“Danki, Sarah. Please sit and join me.”

Her feet itched to move away. “Only for a minute—I have to start cleaning the display case for closing.”

“This will only take a minute.” He took a bite of the banana bread, then a sip of coffee. “This bread is very gut.”

She pulled a wooden chair away from the table and sat.

“I believe Alvin Studer came into the bakery and asked you to join him for a buggy ride. He is a gut man and his six kinner need a mamm.”

A shiver ran up her spine as she averted her eyes from the bishop’s face. “Jah. He did ask. I was busy and didn’t have time to talk with him.” It was only a little white lie.

“Sarah, it’s Gott’s will that you remarry. Each person in our church must lose the desire for self and think of the community. That is what we believe. Jah, it’s time for you to sell the bakery. It’s Satan’s lie that makes you think that a career outside the home is fulfilling. Alvin needs a frau and mamm for his kinner.” His eyes pierced hers like the tiny, sharp point on a straight pin.

The bishop was matchmaking her!

Chapter Two

Plop...plop.

Caleb stopped and listened.

Plop. The sound cut through the still afternoon. He turned his head in the direction of the pond but couldn’t see past the grove of maple trees. Maybe an animal skittered over the water. He trained his concentration back to the job at hand.

Plop...plop.

Caleb listened. Jah, definitely coming from the pond. Surely Jacob hadn’t skipped school again to go fishing.

He laid his fence-mending tools on the ground and raced across the field. His long strides carried him quickly to the shade of the trees. Scanning the perimeter of the pond, his eyes came to rest on his six-year-old sohn reclining on the grass.

Caleb walked to within ten feet of the bu. “Jacob, what are you doing?”

Jacob sprang to his feet, almost losing his balance as he teetered on the edge of the pond. He stepped back and whirled around. “I’m th-throwing r-rocks in the water.” His head hung, but his brooding gray eyes peered up.

“Again, you skipped school. Are your chores done?” Caleb’s intent gaze froze Jacob to the spot.

Jacob shrugged his shoulders. “Nein.”

“Work on the farm takes priority over playing.” Caleb furrowed his brow. “You know chores always come first. Milk cows need to maintain a strict schedule.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Jacob whispered, almost too low for Caleb to hear.

“What has gotten into you?”

Jacob shrugged again with a blank face.

“Go and unhook the gate and let it swing open so the cows can come in from the pasture for milking. Then feed the chickens. After chores, go to the house and get on your knees and ask Gott to forgive your laziness.” Caleb turned and walked back to the fence but glanced over his shoulder to make sure Jacob headed toward the barnyard. Caleb shook his head as he watched the bu kick a stone in his path.

“Jacob, don’t take your anger out on the earth. Anger is a sinful thing. In prayer today, tell the Lord your transgression. Go, sit in silence and talk to Him about what you have done. We’ll discuss an extra chore for your punishment.”

Caleb watched as Jacob trudged to the barnyard with his shoulders slumped. He would leave the bu alone for a while to think about what he’d done.

His wife’s death had been hardest on his sohn. Jacob had cried for hours after the cancer took his mamm. Martha’s caring ways had woven a strong bond between her and the bu.

Caleb returned to the pasture. Holding a piece of wire fencing, he stretched it tight around the wood post, pulled the hammer out of his belt and drove a staple over the wire to secure it. He walked down the fence line, found another piece of loose fencing and fixed it. Mr. Warner, on the farm next door, didn’t much care for Caleb’s cows trampling down his corn.

He took a step back, removed his hat and wiped trickles of perspiration from his brow while he surveyed the work. After smacking the hat against his thigh to remove dust and moisture from it, he plopped it back on.

For a small bu, Jacob gave Caleb more problems than this old fence. Jacob, Jacob, Jacob, how do I get through to you?

He looked up toward heaven. Lord, what do I do with him?

Caleb had consulted the bishop about Jacob’s sadness after his mamm had died. “Time will cover the wound,” the bishop had said, “like a healing salve.”

Martha had passed over a year ago, but the salve hadn’t eased Jacob’s pain. At least, not yet.

Like Jacob, Caleb had thought about Martha a lot at first. He’d missed her terribly. Yet ever since the encounter with the pretty baker, he couldn’t erase the memory of Sarah’s smile, her chocolate-brown hair or those cinnamon-brown eyes. They started pushing the memories of Martha into a secret spot in his mind. Was it right to let new memories replace those he had of Martha? He touched his hand to his stomach, where Sarah’s nearness had stirred him. For sure and for certain, she was an attractive woman.

Was it too soon to remarry? Jah, his kinner needed a mamm, but a woman as nice-looking as Sarah must have an ehemann. Guilt prickled the back of his neck, and he shook Sarah’s image from his mind.

He grabbed his fence-mending tools, carted them back to the barn and hung each one on a hook. Then he pulled off his gloves, straightened them out and laid them flat on the bench. When he walked past the milking floor, he saw that Mary had already led the Holsteins to the stanchions and had started applying the iodine mixture to the cows’ udders. Jacob sat off to the side, watching and learning. Caleb smiled. In a couple of years, the bu could take over that chore.

It’d be nice to have his sohn work alongside him. Someday, Jacob would own the farm, unless Caleb remarried and had another sohn. Then the youngest bu would inherit the farm, according to Amish custom, and he’d give his older bu, Jacob, money to start his own business. Mary would find some young bu to marry, and he’d have his own farm or business to take care of Mary and their family.

Caleb followed Mary and wiped the cow’s udders with an alcohol wipe. When he was finished with the disinfecting, he attached the vacuum line and started the milking process.

Glancing at Jacob sitting quietly and wearing a sorrowful face, Caleb racked his brain for a way to help the bu deal with grieving and his feelings of emptiness and loneliness. Sometimes he wished Jacob were more like Mary.

At thirteen, she was strong willed and self-sufficient. From an early age, Mary did for herself. Her independent way seemed to help her deal with her mother’s death and grieving the loss.

Jah, for sure and for certain, Gott had blessed Mary with a tenacious personality and a thriving business making jellies, candies and crafts the Englisch liked.

Nein. Jacob wasn’t as tough as Mary. He was the sensitive one.

Caleb had a surprise for Jacob tomorrow. One that just might ease his pain for at least a little while.

* * *

Caleb settled on the seat and watched his sohn mosey toward the buggy. Jacob climbed in and plopped down beside his daed. Caleb shook the reins. “Giddyap, Snowball.”

“Why do we have to go to Kalona, Daed?” His lips set in a pout.

“We are going to drop off some of Mary’s pillow covers, pot holders and boppli blankets at a consignment shop.”

“Why can’t Mary go instead of me?”

“She is busy with the housework, cooking, laundry and making things to sell.”

“I don’t want to go.”

Caleb looked at the bu a moment, trying to figure out what would make Jacob happy. Most kinner would enjoy a trip to town. “You will go and help. Not another word about it.”

A few minutes later, he glanced at his sohn. Jacob held his back straight as a stick, staring straight ahead. What could he possibly do for the bu to take the stiffness and hurt out of his heart?

Caleb gave up on conversation and instead rubbernecked at his neighbors’ fields the whole three miles to Kalona. Jah, his fields looked as gut as these.

Their errands didn’t take long, as Snowball trotted them around town. Caleb hadn’t eaten much for breakfast, so a roll and cup of coffee would sure be gut right about now. He stopped the buggy one shop down from the bakery.

“Where are we going now?” Jacob looked from one side of the street to the other.

“You’ll see. It’s a surprise.” Caleb walked beside Jacob and ushered him to the Amish Sweet Delights bakery, opened the door and motioned for Jacob to enter. As his sohn passed, Caleb detected a trace of a smile.

Caleb leaned down by Jacob’s ear and whispered, “You can order anything in the case. Ask for a glass of milk, too. We’ll sit a minute and refresh ourselves.”

Two customers stood in front of them. The man at the counter was an Englischer, clean-shaven and wearing brown trousers and a matching shirt—the same kind of clothing that Caleb had seen on deliverymen. His stomach tightened as he overheard the man tell Sarah how nice she looked today.

She didn’t appear to hear him. “Who’s next?”

The woman in front of Caleb took her turn at the counter. The bakery door behind Caleb opened, and two young Amish buwe, Noah and Matthew, entered and stood in line behind them. The buwe tapped Jacob on the shoulders, letting him know they were back there. They talked and laughed, trying to coax Jacob into a conversation.

The woman in front paid, picked up her sack and left.

“We’re next, Jacob.” Caleb stepped forward as the buwe joked and teased Jacob about a girl in school. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Jacob, it is our turn to order.”

“Nein, I don’t like her.” Jacob spouted the words at his friend and gave Matthew a shove. Jacob whirled back around, stepped on a broken cookie or something on the floor and lunged forward. His arms flung out as he slid across the counter, hitting the walnut bears and sending them sailing through the air. They banged on a table, bounced off and smashed against the wall.

Jacob’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped as he stumbled back away from the counter. Caleb caught him and steadied Jacob until he regained his balance.

Everyone at the tables stopped talking and stared at the commotion. The men at the table where the broken bears lay shoved their chairs away from the pieces.

Stunned, Caleb wasn’t sure what to do. He looked from the bears to Sarah. She shrieked and ran to retrieve the fragments. Tears clouded her eyes, threatening to spill over as she hugged the pieces to her chest and walked back to the counter.

Caleb placed a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “Jacob, you have broken them.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Sarah laid the pieces behind the counter, straightened and looked at Jacob. “I know you didn’t. They shouldn’t have sat there. It’s my fault.”

Caleb removed his wide-brimmed straw hat from his head. “Sarah, I can take the pieces and make you a new set. They won’t match exactly, but it’ll be close and most won’t tell the difference.”

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “No, that’s not necessary. It wouldn’t be quite the same. These were the last things my husband made me before he passed away.” Her voice caught in her throat.

Caleb glanced over his shoulder at every pair of eyes in the bakery boring a hole through his back. His cheeks burned, and he sucked in a deep breath. “Jacob must pay for the damage he caused.”

“Nein, Caleb, it’s not necessary.” She placed an index finger at the corner of her eye and blotted a tear that had escaped.

“Jacob will be here early Saturday morning to help you in the shop. He can clean the tables, the chairs and the floor, and help fetch supplies. Whatever you need him to do, for as long as you need him, until he pays off the debt. He must make amends.”

* * *

Sarah looked at Jacob, a small-framed bu, maybe six or seven years old, with a tuft of blond hair poking out from under his hat. “Do you want to help me?” she asked, softening her voice.

He nodded. His sulking brown eyes resembled those of a scolded puppy and tugged at the edges of her heart.

“Gut. I’d appreciate that.” She let a smile pluck at the corners of her mouth.

“We’ll take three cinnamon rolls to go, please.” Caleb plopped his hat on his head. “Again, we are very sorry.” The red flush in his cheeks deepened, but Sarah pretended not to notice.

Sarah handed the order to him over the counter. Caleb’s hand glided over hers as he grasped the sack, sending an unexpected rush through her. The warmth jabbed at her heart as though a tiny arrow had pierced it. She jerked back in response. She hadn’t felt the touch of a man’s hand in a long time.

The sensation had startled her. Or maybe it was her reaction that had startled her.

She’d enjoy getting to know Jacob and most assuredly his papa, too.

Chapter Three

The scent of lilacs and freshly cut grass saturated the morning breeze. Caleb inhaled a deep whiff and watched as Jacob climbed into the buggy and sat next to him. Jacob’s face looked like that of a shunned man. “Jacob, doing a little work to repay a debt can’t be as bad as all that.”

Jacob shrugged.

Caleb shook the reins. “Giddyap, Snowball.” The horse trotted down the drive, past the vegetable garden and out the gate between the white picket fences surrounding the barnyard. Snowball turned right toward Kalona without any coaxing.

“Please be helpful to Sarah.” Caleb flashed his warning face at Jacob.

He nodded. “I will. How long do I have to stay and help her?”

Jacob looked deep in thought, worrying his bottom lip. Caleb regretted his prior words. He knew the bu wanted to make amends.

At times Jacob seemed to have a rebellious nature, but Caleb had to trust his sohn. “We’ll see how much work she has for you to do. Maybe a couple of hours. You can let me know if you get tired.”

“Okay.”

“But you understand why you must help her, jah?”

Jacob put a hand up to shade the sun from his eyes. “I’m working to pay for the cost of the bears I broke.”

“Not just that, but the pain and suffering you have caused her. They were the last gift her ehemann had given her before he died. Now they’re broken. Your helping is just a respectful way of saying you’re sorry.”

“I’m really sorry I did that.”

“I know you are.”

They rode in silence but Caleb sensed something different about Jacob. His voice wasn’t as cold and distant as it was when they had driven to Kalona last week. He had an obligation now to a very nice woman, and it appeared he accepted the responsibility.

* * *

Glancing at the chaos in the bakery’s kitchen—containers covering the table, sugar spilled on the counter and pans strewn about—Sarah felt daunted by the mess before her. She brushed the flour from her hands as she checked the time... Running late. Why had she given Hannah the day off? The special order, along with her regular baking, swamped her with work.

Sarah made the last loaf of bread and set it to rise. She grabbed a wet cloth and tidied up her work area. After pushing the utensils to the side, she scooted to the pantry and lugged enough ingredients to the table for six dozen sugar cookies.

Jacob would arrive soon, and she didn’t have time to talk or show him what to do. She barely had enough time to get ready to open.

What had she gotten herself into by accepting Caleb’s offer for the small bu to help...and on a Saturday? Sarah hurried to the front and unlocked the door for Jacob but left the sign on the window turned to Closed.

She’d dirtied almost every pan in the bakery, so maybe Jacob could wash dishes. When he finished with that, they’d figure it out. She’d been meaning to hire extra help but hadn’t had time to advertise or interview.

She glanced at the dirty pans in the sink. It would save time if she had clean cookie sheets. She could fetch the spares she’d stored on the top shelf of the built-in cupboard. They were reserved for large orders, like a wedding, but an emergency should warrant the hassle it took to get them down.

Sarah opened the cupboard doors, pulled the step stool over and climbed up. She wasn’t quite tall enough for her fingers to touch the shelf next to the ceiling. She stretched. Almost there...but not quite.

Sarah braced a hand on the cupboard and rose to her tiptoes. The pans remained a couple of inches from her grasp. If she stood on the stool’s back support, it would give her the boost she needed. She stepped onto the vinyl-covered back and reached for the pans. The stool rocked this way and that way. She flung her arms out, trying to grab hold of the shelf, but missed. She reached for the cupboard door to steady her footing. The stool wiggled, toppled to the right and tossed her straight into a pair of waiting arms and a hard chest.

Arms flailing, she screamed and clutched at his shirt. Her heart galloped against her ribs while she tried to calm down. She gulped a breath.

He dipped his head and his beard tickled her face. Sarah peered up into sage-green eyes and a beaming smile that reached all the way to the corners of his eyes. For once, her brain and tongue failed her simultaneously.

“You could have gotten hurt.” Caleb raised his brow, as if waiting for her reply.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “Danki. You can put me down now.” His nearness had created a wild thumping in her chest. When her feet touched the floor, she drew a deep breath and glanced up into his face.

His eyes locked with hers. “Can I trust you to stay on your feet this time?”

She nodded and pulled away from his gaze, trying to calm her runaway heart and snag back her fraying nerves. “Of course. Danki for your concern and your help.”

Stepping back to regain her composure, she straightened her dress. Then she placed her hands on her prayer kapp to make sure it was still secure. She moved it slightly and felt confident of its placement.

Sarah relaxed her shoulders. “Hannah asked for the day off, which has left me to do all the baking, including an extra order for an Englisch woman.” She turned to Jacob. “What I’d really appreciate right now, if you don’t mind, is for you to wash some cookie sheets.”

“We’ll hang our hats and Jacob will get started.” Caleb motioned to Jacob and pointed to the rack by the back door.

Jacob stared at the heap of pans in the sink. Then plunked his hat on a hook, rolled up his sleeves and went to work. Sarah grabbed a towel from the drawer, wrapped it around Jacob’s waist and tied it. “This will help protect your clothing.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow in a questioning look. “I have some errands to run later. I’ll wait out front for a little while to see if you have anything you need me to do, like reaching for something.”

“Danki for the thought, but I won’t be getting on the stool again.”

“I didn’t mean just that. I could carry a heavy flour sack and refill the bin.” The look on his face appeared to be dead serious, except his twitching lips betrayed a suppressed grin.

She flashed him a wry smile. “Danki, but we’re good for now.”

Sarah stole a peek at his back as Caleb returned to the front of the bakery. She touched her hand to her heart and blew out a long breath. How was she ever going to get through the day with him only a few feet away? She clutched the rolling pin to steady her hands.

After she finished the baking, she loaded the cart with cooled pastries, pushed it to the front and transferred them to the display case. Her cheeks warmed as she sensed Caleb’s eyes following her every move. “Would you like a cup of coffee and a roll?”

While he ate and read the Amish newspaper, The Budget, she continued her morning preparations. When the first customers arrived, Caleb threw his cup away and left to run his errands.

Sarah peered through the doorway at Jacob washing pans and a lump wedged in her throat. It was nice of him to help, even if it was his daed’s idea. The pan he was scrubbing looked shiny and clean. He was a hard worker and eager to please. “Customers have come in, so I’ll be out front most of the time.”

Jacob nodded. “Okay.”

While she waited on customers, Jacob pushed the cart out front with sheets of cooled cookies and rolls to replenish the display case. He wiped off the tables, greeted the customers and took dirty dishes to the kitchen without her asking.

When the noontime crowd had disappeared, Sarah was famished. “Now is our slow period, Jacob. How about a peanut butter sandwich and cookie?”

“Okay.”

Sarah laid the sandwiches and cookies on plates while Jacob poured himself a glass of milk. They sat at a table by the window and ate in silence as they watched people walk by. She’d often wondered what it would have been like to have a kind. At night she sometimes dreamed about one, then woke drenched in tears. Jacob seemed like the perfect little bu. He was helpful, sweet and friendly to her customers. It had only been one day but he had already burrowed into her heart, and she didn’t want to let him go. Ever.

She swallowed hard. That was a selfish thing to think. Forgive me, Lord.

“Danki, Jacob, for spending the day. You are a gut worker, and I really appreciate your help. In fact, I was so busy that I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I’ll come back next Saturday.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure one day’s worth of work is enough to pay for the walnut bears.”

The doorbell jingled.

“But I want to help you.” He glanced up at her, his eyes stealing her heart.

She scooted her chair back so she could go wait on the customer. “I can’t ask your daed to bring you to town again. That would be an imposition. He must be busy and probably needs you at home.”

“Please let me help?”

Caleb stepped closer to the table. “You want to what?”

Sarah jerked her head around, surprised to hear Caleb’s voice.

“I want to work at the bakery another day to pay my obligation.”

“Okay, I’ll bring you to Kalona next Saturday.”

“Caleb, I hate to ask you to do that. Jacob was here all morning and worked hard. It’s unfair to ask him to come another day.”

He looked at Jacob and then at Sarah. “This is the most enthusiastic I’ve seen him in a year. I have some business in town, so it’s no imposition.”

She mulled over his offer for a minute. “Danki, Caleb.”

Jacob flashed her a smile, grabbed his hat and followed his daed out the door.

Her heart thrived on the small bu and already ached for him. Saturday, she’d get to see them both again.

* * *

Caleb turned Snowball into the driveway and headed toward the barn. He couldn’t understand the change in the bu. Jacob had whistled almost the whole way home.

“Daed, I liked working at the bakery. Sarah said I did a gut job.” When the buggy stopped, Jacob hopped out. “I’ll start chores.”

He stared after his sohn. What had gotten into him? Perhaps he had eaten too many cookies today and the sugar was giving him a burst of energy.

While he led Snowball to a stall, an image of Sarah fought its way back into his mind. He tried to forget about her smile, about how her small frame had felt in his arms, about how her hair had smelled of peach blossoms. But he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

She was a widow. Did she mention that so he’d know? Nein. He was sure that was not possible. She only mentioned it because her ehemann had made her the bears. Yet a small part of him wanted to think that she wanted him to know.

All week long, Jacob stayed in a gut mood. He did all his chores on time and without one complaint. He cleaned his room without Caleb having to ask. In fact, he never saw the bu sitting once, only at mealtime and in the evenings. Amazing!

At 5:00 a.m. on Saturday morning, Caleb knocked on Jacob’s bedroom door to wake him for chores, and he was surprised to find him dressed and ready to help with the milking. Usually he had to pry the bu out of bed. Evidently Jacob was smitten with something at the bakery. Caleb ran a hand through his hair. But what?

The work? Hard to believe.

Sarah? He wouldn’t be interested in girls at his age. Yet he did believe Jacob still missed his mamm. Sarah had praised the bu for doing a gut job, as Martha often had. Maybe he needed to do that more, as well.

Jacob helped hitch Snowball to the buggy, then was the first one to hop in the buggy. The closer Snowball got to town, the faster he trotted and the faster he got his treat of oats.

Caleb’s heart rate also increased the closer they got to Kalona. He rubbed his sweaty palms across his thighs. It was too soon for him to think about a frau.

* * *

Sarah couldn’t resist a smile when the bakery door opened. “Gut mornin’, Jacob. Ready to work again?”

He nodded. “Daed had errands to do and will stop back later.”

“Gut.” Sarah swiped her hands together to dust the flour off and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “This is Hannah Ropp. She works with me in the bakery.”

“Nice to meet you, Jacob.” Hannah smiled. “So, you’re going to spend your Saturday with us? Datt is wunderbaar. We can certainly use the help around here.”

“Nice to meet you, Hannah.” He hung his hat, rolled up his sleeves and dug in to the dirty pans stacked in the sink.

“A man of few words—I like datt,” Hannah teased.

Sarah finished making the apple pie, sprinkled the top with cinnamon and sugar and then set it in the oven beside the other three pies. She glanced at Jacob, who was busy scrubbing the jelly roll pan. “Jacob, what would you like to do when you grow up? Farm like your daed?”

“Be a baker like you.”

Sarah paused. She hadn’t expected that. “Jah?” She turned toward Jacob. “You could come and work with Hannah and me. We’d like that, wouldn’t we, Hannah?”

“Of course we would.” She laughed.

“My daed was a baker, Jacob. This was his bakery. I worked here every day after school, helping him.” Sarah finished kneading the dough, set the mound of wheat bread into a pan, covered it and set it off to the side to rise.

“After Mamm died, the bakery was the place Daed, my brother Turner and I worked together as a family. After Daed and my husband, Samuel, died, the bakery, Hannah and our customers became my family. Turner took over Daed’s woodworking shop. Now he’s too busy to stop by much.”

“I didn’t think I’d seen Turner in here lately.” Hannah tossed her a curious look.

“Jah. He usually stopped in for a roll and coffee a couple of times a week, but not lately. Maybe he had extra woodworking orders with summer and the Englischers’ wedding season close.”

Jacob finished washing pans, swept the floors and then trotted to the front and wiped off tables. He laughed with Sarah and Hannah when a lull in customers permitted it.

Sarah snatched little glances of Jacob as he worked. He was a wunderbaar little bu, and she enjoyed his company. “Jacob, did your mamm bake you cookies?”

“Jah, Mamm was a gut baker. She made all kinds of cookies and pies. On my birthday, she’d make me a cake. She made a quilt for my bed. It had squares on it and each one had a different-shaped leaf made out of autumn-colored fabric. When I was sick one time, she sat up all night beside my bed.” His voice cracked and he wiped a tear from his cheek.

Sarah’s heart wept as she sensed Jacob missed his mamm and craved the attention of a mother figure. She had experienced that before when other kinner in her church had lost a parent. Perhaps she could fill the void for Jacob in some way.

Maybe his daed didn’t see Jacob’s need to confide in a woman. On the other hand, maybe he did and that was the reason why he agreed to bring Jacob to work with her in the bakery.

Late morning, Caleb pushed open the bakery door, and Sarah met him at the counter. “Would you like a cookie and a cup of coffee before you head home?”

“Datt would be nice. Would you sit with me at a table for a few minutes?”

“Jah. I have a little time. Especially now since I have two good workers in the bakery.” She said it in a voice a bit louder than normal and glanced over her shoulder at Jacob to see if he had heard.

She caught the little smile pulling at the corners of Jacob’s mouth as he tried to hold it back.

Her heart stuttered at Caleb’s nearness. She handed him a cookie on a plate, poured two cups of coffee and then followed him to a table. When she sat, her gaze met his. His sage-green eyes held hers as tightly as his two strong arms had last Saturday. A rush of warmth flooded her cheeks as she remembered that moment.

“I hope Jacob helped some. He’s a small bu and has his limitations.”

“Jacob is a fabulous worker. He washed pans, mopped the floor, cleaned tables, loaded trays on the cart and pushed it out front. He’s a great help and strong, too. Does he do a lot of work at home?”

“His sister, Mary, who’s thirteen, does the housework. Jacob works outside, mostly in the garden. When he gets older, he’ll farm with me.”

“I see. Is that what he wants to do?”

“What boy doesn’t want to work alongside his daed?” Caleb’s smile reflected a fatherly elation.

“Jah, indeed, but sometimes kinner want to go their own way and try something new.”

Brushing off the temptation to enlighten him that Jacob preferred the bakery to farming, she sipped her coffee and held her tongue. It wasn’t her place to do so, and besides Jacob could change his mind. It might just be a novelty for him to work in a bakery. Something different than cleaning a dirty barn.

Jacob and Hannah both let out a laugh.

“I haven’t heard him laugh since his mamm died. It’s doing him gut to come and work here.”

“Hannah and I enjoyed having him.” She turned and faced the kitchen. “Jacob, your daed is here for you.”

Jacob strolled to the front of the bakery and stopped at the end of the table.

“I heard you worked hard for Sarah. Are you ready to go home?” Caleb stood and picked up his hat.

Jacob’s eyes sparkled. “Nein. I’d like to stay and live with Sarah at the bakery and work for her. She asked me to.”

Shocked, Sarah looked at Caleb’s face. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped. She turned her gaze back to Jacob. Had she heard him correctly?

She stood and faced Caleb to explain. But his complexion had turned ashen and his hat slipped from his hands and dropped to the floor.

Chapter Four

Still reeling from Jacob’s announcement that he wanted to live with her, Sarah pressed a hand to her chest. Without saying a word, Caleb retrieved his hat from the floor. He straightened and glanced at her, his eyes dewy like the forest during a heavy mist.

The bell jingled as the bakery door pushed open and an elderly couple entered. Hannah rushed to greet the customers, nodding to Sarah and indicating she had this. Sarah blew out a breath. She didn’t want to delay this conversation.

Caleb’s skin above his whiskered cheeks had turned cherry-red. His six-foot stature seemed shorter as his shoulders slumped with the weight of his sohn’s brutal words. The man’s eyes reflected his world crumbling like a day-old cookie.

Sarah drew a sharp breath and prepared to deal with what she had started. “Let’s sit a minute.”

Since the tables were empty, she motioned toward the corner table so customers wouldn’t overhear their conversation. It also gave her a second longer to decide how to explain this misunderstanding to Caleb. He probably believed she had meddled in his life.

The late-afternoon sun and heat streamed through the window, intensifying her discomfort. She blotted the moisture clinging to her neck with her hand as the guys slid behind the table.

Sarah leaned behind Jacob and pulled the cord on the blind, her mind racing about how to approach the subject. She scooted out the chair directly opposite from Caleb and sat.

How was she going to explain that his sohn would rather work in the bakery than on the farm? Not something an Amish man wanted to hear, or probably any man, if he had his heart set on it. She swiped her palms on her apron as she directed her attention across the table.

Caleb glanced down and raised his forearms to the table with his calloused, weathered-roughened hands outstretched in front of him. He sucked in a loud breath and cut his eyes to his bu.

Jacob sat next to Caleb, acting as if he were unaware of the impact his words had had on his daed. The bu’s small body scooted up next to the table, with only the tops of his shoulders and head visible above the table.

“Sweetie.” Sarah looked at Jacob and whispered. “When we talked about you working in the bakery, I meant when you had grown and finished school.”

“But you said you worked in your daed’s bakery every day after school and liked it because you were in a family. I want to be part of a family, too.” His tiny voice started to tremble.

“I’m sorry that you misunderstood.”

Sarah raised her eyes to Caleb, imploring his help. She realized Jacob was desperately seeking what he’d lost, and her heart was breaking for him.

Caleb remained silent. By the pitiful look on his face, it was as if his sohn had asked for a divorce from his family.

* * *

Jacob’s words sliced through Caleb’s heart like a steel blade, then plunged to the very depth of his soul.

A shiver coursed through his body. After Martha’s death, he’d stayed late in the fields and lingered cleaning tools so exhaustion would consume him at bedtime. That helped Caleb deal with the grief. But without giving it a thought, he’d let his kinner struggle with their mamm’s death on their own. What had he been thinking? Then he’d scolded Jacob when he relaxed by the pond. Instead, he should have taken a few minutes to lie with the bu in the grass.

He reached over, enfolded Jacob’s hand into his and squeezed gently. “Jacob, we can’t ask Sarah to let you live with her. She is busy with her bakery and probably doesn’t have an extra bedroom in her apartment.”

“But, Daed, I could help her and sleep in her bakery.”

“Nein, that won’t work, Jacob. You can’t sleep in the bakery. When she needs help, I will drive you into town to help her. I know Sarah is your friend and you would like to spend more time with her. What would you say if we invited her out to our farm for dinner next Sunday?”

His face glowed. “Jah, okay.”

“Sarah. If you are available for dinner, Jacob and I would be honored to drive into Kalona and escort you to our home.”

“Jah, I would like datt.” She turned toward Jacob. “When I come to your house, I’ll scrub your sink full of pans.”

Jacob laughed. “Okay, but I’ll help you.”

“Datt sounds gut. Go tell Hannah I said for her to bag some cookies for you to take home.” Jacob ran to the back of the bakery.

“Caleb, I’m so sorry. Jacob and I were having a casual conversation as we worked. I told him about working with my family in the bakery after school. I didn’t realize he took it a different way. What I didn’t tell Jacob was my daed was very strict and my bruder and I worked hard from a very early age. But I liked helping in the bakery and didn’t mind.”

“I understand. Jacob’s mamm died a year ago, and he still misses her. Martha’s death had a devastating impact on the bu, and I failed to notice it. I stay in the fields too late and don’t spend enough time with the kinner. That’ll change.” He stood, retrieved his hat from the peg and nodded to Sarah as he headed for the door.

Jacob dragged his feet as he made his way to the front of the bakery, a smile touching the corners of the bu’s mouth as he said goodbye to Sarah, but it disappeared and was replaced by a sadness that Caleb worried wouldn’t go away.

* * *

Caleb followed Jacob into the house, hurrying to catch up. For a six-year-old, he could surely outrun his daed.

Jacob held the sack up. “Mary, I have some cookies from the bakery. We can share.”

Mary shrugged at her brother, rolled her eyes, then finished making a pie and placed it in the oven.

“Guess what, Mary? Sarah is coming to dinner next Sunday, and we get to cook for her!”

Mary stopped and glared at Jacob. “Is that so? Am I the one who will be cooking dinner?”

Caleb cleared his throat. “We will all make dinner together for our guest. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”

“You mean your guest.” She shoved the laundry basket of clothes she’d been folding to the corner. Then grabbed the pot holders and pulled the cornbread out of the oven.

The assault of ammonia and floor cleaner tipped Caleb off to how hard Mary had been working since they took off for town. The house was clean, the table set for dinner, and the steamy whiff of ham and candied sweet potatoes smelled gut.

He hadn’t noticed before, but Mary’s feelings were sensitive, too. She’d had a deep attachment to her mamm, and bringing another woman into her home was going to meet with resistance, no doubt.

Mary was a thirteen-year-old going on thirty. She never complained; she just did what had to be done. Caleb moved out of her way as she dished up dinner in silence. He hung his hat on a peg by the door and dragged his hand through his hair to smooth it down. Apparently neither Jacob nor Mary was happy. Their lives had fallen apart since Martha’s death, and it was all his fault.

He had to give his kinner a loving home. Martha would have been disappointed in his behavior. He treated Mary and Jacob like adults. He needed to let them be kinner. Maybe he could hire someone occasionally to help with the household chores.

The next morning Caleb tried to help Mary whenever he could. He made Jacob pick up more responsibility around the house, as well. The week passed with little complaining or talking of any kind from Mary. She said what was necessary and not a word more.

On Saturday Caleb watched as Jacob helped make sugar cookies. He dusted the table with flour, as Mary did. Rolled out his dough and used a round cookie cutter to stamp out shapes. Caleb walked over to survey the work, his shoes crunching over the sugarcoated wood flooring.

“When I grow up, Mary, I’m going to work with Sarah in her bakery.” Jacob slid a spatula under the dough and set each cookie on a baking sheet.

Mary glanced at Jacob and rolled her eyes.

Caleb prayed Sunday dinner would go off without any problems.

* * *

On Sunday Caleb peeled and cut potatoes and carrots while Mary prepared the roast. When everything was almost ready, he and Jacob hitched Snowball and rode to Kalona to fetch Sarah. The whole way there, Jacob made plans for Sarah’s visit.

Yet a slight uneasiness bubbled in Caleb’s belly. Mary had offered no conversation while they worked in the kitchen this morning. Was she still brooding about cooking for their guest?

When they pulled up, Sarah was ready in front of the bakery. Caleb walked her to the buggy. Just as she stepped up to the carriage, she jerked her head at the sound of wheels and horses’ hooves pounding the paved road as a buggy approached.

“Ach. Melinda Miller.” She gave her a wave, then accepted Caleb’s help to step up. “She’ll be sure to tell everyone she saw me getting into your buggy.”

Caleb waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “It’s Visiting Sunday, and you’re going visiting.”

“Jah, that’s true,” she reasoned.

When he pulled into his driveway, Sarah’s gaze bounced from the gardens to the fields. “It’s a lovely farm, Caleb.”

“Danki.” He helped her out of the buggy and escorted her up the porch steps.

Jacob grabbed her hand. “I’ll show you my room.”

Sarah turned and gave Caleb a shrug. “Guess I have a tour guide with an itinerary for the day.”

“Slow down, Jacob. Show Sarah your room while I unhitch Snowball. Then we must eat before anything else. Mary will have dinner ready.” Caleb’s stomach had been rumbling for the past hour, and he didn’t want Mary’s hard work on dinner to go to waste. He hurried to unhook Snowball, walked the horse to his stall and then hurried back to the haus.

Caleb hung his hat on the hook, washed his hands and, while Mary poured the cold milk, he carried the food to the table. “Jacob and Sarah. Time to eat.”

Jacob led his guest to the table and pulled out a chair. “This is where you sit.”

“Danki.” Sarah made herself comfortable.

Caleb motioned to Mary. “This is my tochter, Mary.” Then he turned to Sarah. “This is Sarah Gingerich from the Amish Sweet Delights bakery.”

Mary gave Sarah a slight nod.

Sarah reached out to shake Mary’s hand, but Mary stepped back. “Sorry, my hand may have grease on it from the roast. I wouldn’t want you to get any on your hands or your dress.”

“Mary. Please wash your hands.” Caleb tossed her a warning look. He knew Mary’s stubborn nature. She wouldn’t warm up to Sarah until she was ready, but he wouldn’t stand for her offensive behavior.

She washed her hands at the sink, came back and offered a hand to Sarah. “Hullo, Sarah. Welkum.” Mary’s words hit their destination like icy pellets.

Caleb exhaled. It was going to be a long afternoon. “Shall we all join hands for prayer?” He said the blessing, then passed the serving platter around the table.

“Ach. New Order Amish pray aloud at the table. We do not.” Sarah gasped.

“Jah. On the off-Sundays when the church doesn’t have preaching, the New Order Amish have open Bible study and Sunday school to deepen our personal relationship with Gott and our assurance of salvation.”

“Ach. Old Order still clings to the adage that only the church interprets scripture, and beyond living a godly life and working hard, we can only have hope of our salvation.” Sarah took a bite of food and turned to Mary. “Mmm, this roast is delicious.”

“Danki.”

“Did your mamm teach you how to cook?”

“Of course.”

The heat from Mary’s rude words burned on Caleb’s cheeks. He’d hoped Mary would like Sarah. Apparently that’s not going to happen. “Sarah, Jacob and I have a little surprise for you after dinner.”

“I like surprises. That sounds like fun.”

When they were finished eating, Sarah jumped up, began clearing the table and carrying the dishes to the sink. Caleb helped Sarah while Mary put the condiments and leftover food away, then joined Sarah at the sink.

“Sit, Caleb, finish your coffee. You too, Mary. You cooked. I’ll wash the dishes.” Sarah motioned them toward the table.

“Danki, but you came to visit with Daed and Jacob. Go visit with them. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Nein. We’ll all pitch in to get them done faster. Jacob and I’ll help, too.” Caleb grabbed a dish towel. “I can’t believe you were going to pass up the help, Mary.”

Defiance glowed in Mary’s eyes as they darted at Caleb. But she remained silent.

* * *

Sarah took a step back after the last dish found its way to the cupboard. She understood Mary wasn’t going to let her, or probably any woman, into her kitchen. If Caleb made Mary step aside for a frau, she’d do it, but begrudgingly.

After Jacob finished sweeping the floor clean of crumbs and set the broom away, he ran to Caleb. “Now, Daed?”

“Jah. Now we take Sarah on the tour.” Caleb opened the door and swept his arm toward the outside. “Your tour is about to begin, Frau Gingerich.”

They walked her around the flower and vegetable gardens, then stopped by the barn for her to meet Tiger, the cat. When he rubbed against her leg, she picked him up. “You’re a real beauty.”

He purred in response.

Jacob tugged at her arm as excitement set his feet to prancing. “Come on, we have a surprise.” Jacob walked her to the pen where the newborn calf laid next to his mamm.

“Oh, he is gorgeous.” Sarah gave Caleb a glance when he stood next to her.

The cat jumped out of Sarah’s arms, squeezed through the board fence and rubbed up against the calf.

“Ah, even Tiger likes him.” The innocence of the animals warmed her heart.

“There’s one last place to see. I’ll give you a hint.” Jacob rubbed his chin with his hand like he was deep in thought. “It’s a great spot on a hot day.”

Sarah looked up toward the sky as if really pondering the question, then dropped her gaze back to Jacob. “I have no idea what it is. Lead the way.”

Jacob traipsed through the grass and weeds along the bank to the grove of maple trees by the pond on the edge of the pasture. Jacob pointed to the water, his face beaming.

“Oh! What a wonderful place to relax on the grass.” She looked around. “It’s a beautiful farm, Caleb and Jacob, and so well kept.”

Both their faces glowed with pride.

“I contract the fields of vegetables to canneries, and I grow extra to sell at the auction and market.” He turned around and pointed to the north pasture. “And we have a few milk cows.”

“Jah, I see but it looks like more than a few.”

“About forty.”

“The farm must keep you busy.”

Caleb nodded. “Jah, it does.”

She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He was a handsome man, with a charming way about him. Even with a beard, she could see his strong jaw. She liked his beard. The New Order men kept theirs trimmed, while the Old Order didn’t allow such things. Her stomach fluttered whenever Caleb spoke to her, as though she were a young girl who was in a courtship with a bu. Only, now it was a man with kinner.

“Daed, is it time for cookies?” Jacob turned toward Sarah. “I helped make them.”

“Then I definitely want one.” Sarah wrapped her arm around Jacob’s shoulder. “Lead the way, Mr. Baker.”

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted them when they entered the kitchen. Mary had the cookies and plates on the table. “Mmm, smells gut in here. You are a wunderbaar hostess, Mary.”

“Danki.” Mary nodded as she pulled out a chair from the table and sat.

Dessert was light and quick. And Sarah was thankful. She finished her coffee and cookie, then brushed the crumbs from her skirt.

Caleb excused himself to go hitch the horse to the buggy. “I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes, Sarah.”

“Jah, danki. I’ll be ready.”

Sarah stood. “Goodbye, Mary. I enjoyed meeting you.”

Mary didn’t stand. “Nice to meet you, too, Sarah.” Her tone didn’t match her congenial words.

A cold shimmy worked its way up Sarah’s back. Could it be more obvious? She wasn’t welcome in Mary’s house.

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