Ruined. It’s all ruined.
Carolyn knelt in the middle of her bakery’s outer room, too shocked to move.
Devastation surrounded her. She’d decided to take her usual Sunday afternoon walk, knowing the exercise combined with nature always fed her soul. But as she passed by the bakery, she couldn’t keep herself from stopping in front of it. She marveled at Atlee’s handiwork, still touched by the sign. That’s when she noticed the inside door was open. Panicked, she went in, and what she found turned her dream to dust.
Graffiti had been sprayed on every wall. The glass display cases were smashed. The counter was also covered in graffiti, some of it vile. The adding machine was broken, pieces strewn on the floor. The stainless-steel table was upended, and someone had marked up all the counters with a knife. Even the small label cards she’d carefully written by hand were torn and scattered. She didn’t dare go into the kitchen. She knew she would find much of the same, and she couldn’t face that right now.
“Carolyn.”
She didn’t turn around at the deep, gentle voice coming from behind her. Atlee. What was he doing here? The question sat in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t bring herself to care why. She was numb. She had failed. There was no coming back from this, no proving herself to the community. No showing Emmanuel Troyer, even though he wasn’t here, that she had made something of herself. That he hadn’t broken her. She’d ended up broken anyway.
She sensed Atlee kneeling beside her. Felt his hand on her shoulder. Strong. Stable. Just like him. Still, she couldn’t look at him.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Her throat felt thick, as if she had a bread twist stuck in it.
“Did you call the police?”
She shrugged. “Nee.”
“You need to do that, Carolyn.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She pushed away his hand and stood. “Nix matters anymore.”
“You’re wrong about that.” He stood as well and stepped in front of her. She looked up at him. “This”—he gestured to the devastation around them—“matters very much. You put yer heart and soul into this place. We’re not going to let all that effort geh to waste.”
“We? There is nee we, Atlee.” She poured her frustration out on him. “I’ve always said that. I will succeed . . . and fail”—she choked on the last word—“on mei own. I don’t need anyone . . . especially you.”
He regarded her for a moment, and she expected a flash of anger in his eyes. Instead he said, “I know you’re upset, so I’m not taking those words to heart. I know what it’s like to lose something important to you. Something you love.”
His words brought her out of her fury, her heart pinching with guilt. “Atlee, this doesn’t compare to May—”
“Nee, it doesn’t. You can bring yer business back. May . . .” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “The point is you’re hurting. This is a loss to you. I’m just letting you know I understand how you feel. That you don’t need anyone, or want anyone. You believe you must exist on yer own, because you can’t be hurt again. You wouldn’t survive it. But that only works for a little while, and if you’re not careful, you’ll end up empty inside. You’ll wake up every morning wondering why you’re still here.”
Somehow the conversation had taken an unexpected turn. “Atlee, I’m sorry.”
“You can’t keep pushing people away, Carolyn. Especially when you’re grieving. We’re not meant to get through this life alone. I think I’m finally understanding that.” He took a step back. “I’ll be here when you need me, Carolyn. That’s a promise.”
She watched him leave the bakery—or what used to be the bakery. She tried to absorb his words, to understand what he had realized, but for herself. She didn’t have to be alone.
Dread pooled inside as she went into the kitchen. As she’d suspected, it was in even worse shape. In a daze, she went to the phone shanty. Her fingers shook as she dialed nine-one-one. “Hello,” she said when dispatch answered. She gripped the receiver. “I need your help.”
Atlee realized he’d walked past Thomas’s house, almost to Freemont’s. Should he tell Carolyn’s brother what happened? Of course, he would find out soon enough, and Carolyn said she wanted to be left alone. But he couldn’t walk away. Not from this. Not from Carolyn.
He looked up at the sky. I want to be true to May’s memory. But I can’t keep living this way. He closed his eyes. Show me what to do, Lord.
After she called the police, Carolyn went back inside and started sweeping up broken glass. She was working on Sunday, but surely God would understand that she needed to get all the shards of glass off the floor before someone was hurt. She let out a bitter sound. No one would be here to hurt themselves. She wasn’t opening the bakery next week . . . or ever.
She got a dustpan. When she came back, she saw her brother standing in the front doorway. Of course. She should have known Atlee would tell him. She turned her back to him as she swept the glass pieces into the dustpan.
Freemont let out a long whistle, and unlike hers, his was on key. “Gut grief. What a mess.”
She whirled around. “Is that all you have to say?”
He put his hands into his pockets. “What else do you want me to say?”
Sometimes she didn’t understand her brother. He could be as emotionless as a stone, but she knew his heart was made of pure gold. “You don’t have to be here. The police are on their way.”
“You called them?”
“Ya, I did.”
“Well, that’s a surprise. I figured you would try to find the people who did this yerself.”
“I’m not a detective, and you don’t have to be sarcastic.”
Freemont went to her. “Carolyn, I’m sorry.”
The tenderness in his voice made her look at him. She and her brother usually got along well, and as they were growing up they were good friends, even though they had the usual sibling spats. Since it was just the two of them, they were kind of a team too. Then he got married and they moved to Birch Creek. That’s when her life fell apart. The years of distance were keenly felt now that she was standing in the middle of her destroyed bakery. “Danki for yer concern.”
“I mean it. Why are you being so stubborn about accepting help? About being a part of this community again?” He paused. “Is this about Emmanuel?”
Her jaw dropped. “What do you know about Emmanuel?”
Storm clouds gathered in Freemont’s eyes. “I learned a lot about that mann, especially after he left the district. And I also know he was the reason you left.”
Carolyn stared at him. “Who told you that?”
“I saw you going into his haus that day. I was driving past, by coincidence. I knew you would only geh see him under duress since you two didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. I was concerned, and Rhoda let me in. I waited in the living room while you were in his office. When Rhoda went to get kaffee, I got up and listened near the doorway to hear what you were talking about.”
“You eavesdropped?”
“I was worried.” He swallowed. “I couldn’t make out anything, but I knew when something had happened. You were so angry you stormed out of his office and didn’t even see me—or recognize my horse and buggy. You left for Nappanee the next morning.”
Carolyn thought back to that day. She’d been doing more of that this week than she had in the past eighteen years. All she saw that day was red fury at Emmanuel’s threat and insults. “If you knew something was wrong, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Believe me, I’ve asked myself that same question over the years.” He looked at the glass-strewn floor, then back at her. “But I also thought it might be for the best. You were chafing under him, Carolyn. We all knew that, just like we knew you were destined for something different.” He took a step toward her. “Things here have changed now. You had to have noticed that since you came back.”
She had, but it didn’t change anything for her. She’d failed.
He put his hand on her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. “Carolyn, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone here. I’m sure whatever Emmanuel said to you that day wasn’t true. And maybe I should have gone after you, but I think you did the right thing by leaving. You escaped some bad things happening here. But when you said you would finally come back, I was so happy. I’ve missed mei schwester.” His eyes turned glassy. “You have to let me in. You have to let other people care about you. Nee one will ever hurt you like that again.”
“How do you know that?” she said, her voice trembling.
“Because we care about you. Some of us even love you, believe it or not. I wish you could see that. I know how much you love this bakery and want to see it succeed. I want to help you succeed. So does mei familye and the rest of the familyes here in Birch Creek, even the ones you don’t know very well yet. We need to do this together. Please let us.”
Carolyn’s heart started to break, the ice around it thawing. Tears flowed down her cheeks. “I don’t know how to accept help,” she said. “I’ve done everything on mei own for so long.”
“Then we’ll show you. I’ll send out word, and everyone who’s available to help this week will come and get this place back in shape so you’ll be able to open for business. I’ll also talk to the elders about using some money from the community fund to help you replace what can’t be repaired.”
“It can’t be done,” she whispered. “It’s too much.”
“Not for us. And not for God.” He looked at her. “Now, I’ll stay with you until the police have come and gone. Then come home with me. Let’s figure all this out together.”