I have to say, I’m surprised you took me up on mei invitation.”
Atlee settled back in a comfortable hickory rocker on the front porch and took a bite of an oatmeal butterscotch cookie Thomas’s wife had baked. Inside she was wrangling several young boys, making sure they washed up and said their prayers before climbing into bed. The activity of the house made him tired, but it also infused him with a little joy. He and May couldn’t have children, and although he had come to terms with that, sometimes he wondered how he would have been as a father. He knew without a doubt May would have been a wonderful mother. “I’m more surprised you wanted to see me,” he said, focusing on the conversation.
“Why? Because the bishop took advantage of you when you were in a low spot?” Thomas shook his head. “That mann has nee business being a bishop.”
Atlee agreed, but there was nothing anyone could do about it. And it felt a little wrong to criticize someone who had been chosen by God to lead the community. But why would a man led by God think it was a good idea for Atlee to marry Thomas’s daughter, Phoebe, who was nearly thirty years younger than him? “I’m glad you don’t hold that against me,” he said.
“Phoebe doesn’t either, because it wasn’t yer doing. When Joseph Weaver proposed that nonsense and then tried to force the marriage, I knew we had to leave. The Lord brought me and mei familye to the right place, and Phoebe is married to a gut mann.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” After the Bontragers left, there had been whispers throughout the community that Thomas had defied God and that was why his farm had struggled for so long. But Atlee had never believed them. He’d known Thomas for a long time. The man had been there for him when May died, and he had understood why Atlee couldn’t move on as fast as everyone expected him to. Thomas’s faith was as strong as that of anyone he knew. Atlee had missed his friendship over the past two years. “I’ve been wondering. Why are you going by Thomas now?”
“Thomas was mei vatter’s name.” He paused. “I’m not sure this will make sense, but I started a new life here. The old Jesse is gone. When I moved here, I decided to make a completely fresh start.”
It did make sense to Atlee, even though he’d never heard of someone doing such a thing. He knew there were God-ordained name changes in the Bible, like Abram to Abraham and Jacob to Israel. He didn’t see anything wrong with what Thomas had done. It was his name, after all. “You’re happy here, then, ya?”
“Happy and thriving. I’ll admit, I used to wonder if God was punishing me and mei familye, like Joseph said.”
When May died, the bishop had alluded to a lack of faith—not on Atlee’s part, but on May’s. “Perhaps she should have prayed harder for healing,” Joseph had said. His comment had angered Atlee so much he almost left the community right then. But he couldn’t leave May, and there was always the niggling thought in the back of his mind that maybe he hadn’t prayed hard enough for his wife. If his faith had been stronger, maybe she would still be here. God was in the business of doing miracles, after all. Yet he didn’t do one for May.
“But I realized I was wrong. Trials will come nee matter what. That’s what happens in a fallen world.” Thomas paused. “I know how hard May’s death has been on you,” he said, as if the man could read Atlee’s thoughts. “But I’m glad you decided to come visit.”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do while I’m here,” he said. “I can’t say that I know much about farming, but I’m glad to help you any way I can.”
“Help is one thing we have plenty of.” He explained to Atlee about his role in his son-in-law Jalon’s farming business. “The kinner are taking right to it, much more than they did back in Fredericktown. But you’re welcome to pitch in if you want.” He pressed his palms on the arms of the rocker. “How long you planning to stay?”
“A few days, tops.”
“You can extend that, you know.”
Although he’d been here for only a few hours, he was already feeling more relaxed. Yet the Bontragers’ house was full, and he felt like an intruder. He’d also lived alone for so many years that he wasn’t used to so many people and so much activity. “I appreciate the offer.”
After a long moment of silence, Thomas stood. “I’m heading inside. Early day tomorrow, like all of them. See you in the morning.”
Atlee nodded his good-bye, then stared off into the distance at the beautiful farmland surrounding him. According to Thomas, it hadn’t always been so nice here, but Jalon Chupp and his cousin, along with help from their combined families, had turned this stretch of land into something prosperous. He had to admit it was encouraging to see. He had felt stuck in a deep rut for so long. And lately, even the community around him wasn’t just suffocating to him, but also stagnant. Seeing progress and success was invigorating.
He got up from his chair and headed down the road. He wasn’t ready for bed just yet. Maybe a walk would tire him out. A brisk walk was also a habit he’d gotten into the past couple of years. The exercise helped him clear his head while filling his soul.
Along the way, he stopped in front of Carolyn’s bakery. Nothing about the outside of the house made it look inviting, or even like a place of business. He still felt a little guilty about knocking her over. Maybe he could do some landscaping for her, or help her replace the front door. Although he was a cabinetmaker, he was pretty good at most repair jobs—much better than he was at farming.
Then again, he should probably mind his own business. She was a capable woman, something she didn’t hesitate to point out. She probably wouldn’t accept his help even if he offered it. He shoved his hands into his pockets and headed farther down the road, putting Carolyn and her bakery out of his mind.
But the next morning Atlee made the short trek to Carolyn’s bakery. He’d fought with himself during his walk last night, then while he was falling asleep, and again this morning. Finally, he made the decision to come here. He could at least offer to help her with something, if only to ease his conscience.
As he walked to the front door, he again noticed the small handwritten sign in the corner of the picture window. Yoder’s Bakery. She’d need something bigger than that to get folks’ attention. Unlike last night, the solid front door was open, though the screen door was shut. He was about to knock when he heard something that sounded like a screeching cat.
“Just a closer walk with theeeeeeee . . .”
Atlee froze. Was that singing? He recognized the English hymn, but not the tune.
“Grant it, Jesus, is my pleeeeeeeea . . .”
He didn’t think it was possible, but the singing was getting worse as it went along. He peeked through the screen and saw Carolyn back in the kitchen, her hands deep inside a metal bowl as the squalling words came out of her mouth.
“Daily walking close to theeeeeeee . . .”
He stuck his finger in his ear and gave it a twist. Hopefully she didn’t sing that loud in church services. God wasn’t deaf. He knocked on the doorframe. When she didn’t respond, he knocked louder.
“Let it be, Lord, let it—” She stilled, her hands in the bowl, then looked toward the front door. She cleared her throat. “We’re not open to the public yet,” she called in English.
Opening the screen door, he said, “Can I come in?”
Carolyn nodded. She cleared her throat again as he came into the kitchen. “Hello, Mr. Shetler. What brings you by?” she said as she resumed mixing the contents in the bowl.
He gripped the tool belt he’d borrowed from Thomas. “I came to see if you need any help.”
She looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “You’re offering to help me bake?”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to chase yer customers away.”
“Nee worries about that right now.” She sighed and took her hands out of the bowl. Thick clumps of floury dough stuck to her fingers. She pulled off each one, then wiped her hands on a nearby towel. “I’m not sure how you could help me. I’m sorry you brought yer tool belt for nothing.”
“I could rehang that screen door.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s crooked. Off by half an inch, I suspect.”
Her brows raised again. “You can tell that just by looking?”
She stepped from behind the table when he nodded, and he turned and went back to the front. The doorframe, like the rest of the house, he thought, had good bones. He put on his tool belt.
“You don’t have to—”
“Won’t take me but a minute.” He started taking off the door’s hinges.
“But . . .”
He glanced over his shoulder as she went back to the kitchen. He saw the frown on her face. Not that he was surprised, but at least she was letting him fix the door for her.
When he finished, he turned around and saw that she was rolling out the dough on the table, now covered in flour. “What are you making?” he asked as he walked back into the kitchen.
“Chocolate-and-orange bread twists.” When he arched his brow, she smiled and added, “It’s one of mei specialties.”
She had a pretty smile, he had to admit, and he was glad she wasn’t frowning anymore. He was also impressed with how efficiently and quickly she worked. Clearly, she was an expert baker. The only thing that seemed to be holding her back was the state of her bakery. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of chocolate-and-orange bread.”
“Then you can be mei first taste tester. I need to give one of my ovens one more trial run before I call the repairman back out here.”
There was something wrong with her oven too? “Since I’m here with mei tool belt, is there anything else that needs repairing?”
“What doesn’t need fixing?” he thought he heard her mumble. She wiped her hand across her cheek, then shook her head. “Nee, I’m fine.”
“So everything else is in working order?”
She bit the corner of her bottom lip. “Well, the pantry shelves are crooked, but I’m going to fix those while the bread twists rise. Mei nephews, Judah and Ira, hung them for me. Bless them, they’re gut at farming, but not at hanging shelves. Mei bruder insisted they do it, though.” She lifted her chin. “Not that I needed them to.”
Wow, she was a stubborn woman. But he could be stubborn too. “I’ll take a look at them.”
“I can rehang them myself.”
But he was already walking to the back of the kitchen. “I pretty much expected you to say that. I assume the pantry is over here?”
She hurried to him. “I don’t need yer help, Mr. Shetler.”
“Atlee. And I heard you the first time.” He turned and faced her, noticing another spot of flour on her cheek. “But since I don’t make knocking over women a habit, fixing yer door and shelves is the least I can do.”
Her face twisted into a scowl. “I’m capable of doing it myself.”
“Did you hang the screen door yerself?”
Her cheeks reddened as her scowl deepened. “Ya.”
“You did a pretty gut job.” The door hadn’t been that crooked. He lowered his voice. “To be honest, I could use something to do while I’m in Birch Creek.”
“Why? You came here to visit Thomas.”
“Ya, but he’s busy with the farm during the day, and he’s got plenty of help there. He doesn’t need me.”
“Neither do I.”
Ouch. Fine. She didn’t need him, so he wouldn’t bother her anymore. “Got it,” he said, brushing past her so fast he was surprised he hadn’t knocked her down again. Even if he had, he would have helped her up—or tried—and nothing more. She’d made her point loud and clear.
“Atlee, wait.”
He paused at the front door. He should walk out and leave her to her own devices. She and the bakery weren’t his problem. But he couldn’t do that. Not without hearing her out first. He turned. “What?”
She rushed to him and hung her head. “I’m sorry.” She looked up at him. “You’re right. I’m just not . . .” She blew out a breath. “I’m just not used to letting people help me.”
He found that odd, considering one of the most important commandments in the Bible was to love and care for your neighbor, and the Amish took that seriously. Then again, he understood pushing people away. He’d done enough of that over the years.
“I shouldn’t have been so rude to you,” she added. “If you still want to fix the shelves, I would appreciate it.”
He relaxed and smiled. “I’ll be happy to do it.”
“But only if I pay you.”
He held up his hand. “Now, wait a minute, I didn’t say anything about paying me—”
“You could be mei employee. Mei first one. Although come to think of it, I should be interviewing potential clerks by now.” She took out her small pad of paper and wrote something on it with the pencil stub.
“Carolyn, I . . .” She was smiling, and there was a sparkle in her eyes. He had the urge to brush the flour dust off her cheek.
His face heated. Was he blushing? He hadn’t blushed since he was a youth. Nah, it had to be the heat from the oven and the hot summer morning.
“The pantry is where you were headed.” She flashed him another smile as she pointed. “The two battery-powered sensor lights on the ceiling should come on when you walk in.”
His mind was whirling a bit, and not only because, somehow, he’d managed to become a hired hand for Carolyn Yoder. He was still taken by her smile, and the warm feeling stirring inside him couldn’t be blamed on the kitchen or the season. He hadn’t felt anything like this since he first met May.
May. This was the first time he’d thought of her since waking up this morning. That jolted him back to his senses. “I, uh, better get to work, then.”
“Me too. Those bread twists aren’t going to bake themselves.” She headed for the kitchen, and he caught himself watching her walk away. He shook his head. She had thrown him for a loop, that was all. He’d fix the shelves, accept whatever payment she offered, and be on his way.
Yet he couldn’t help but notice that one of the planks in the center of the floor was loose. When he happened to glance at the ceiling, he saw a stain on the drywall. Why hadn’t the community helped her fix everything? She seemed to be alone in trying to get her business off the ground. But from what she said, and how she reacted to him earlier, it had to be her own fault.