Abram stared at the low-burning fire in the hearth of the living room as he listened to Skylar explain her ideas of what they needed to change about the café.

For the second week in a row, their home didn’t have the usual Sunday feel. Last Sunday had been a church meeting day, but since Skylar had arrived the night before, none of the Brennemans had gone. Today was a between Sunday, and they—the café team—were talking business while the rest of the family had dispersed around the farm. Everything about life felt so different these days.

Susie doodled on a legal pad, and Abram knew her mind was spinning. She’d already skimmed the catalog, checking the prices of the items Skylar suggested they purchase. Now Susie looked like he felt: concerned. But he also knew that Susie was praying for her new sister.

“Does anyone even show up at seven?” Skylar flipped through the catalog Ariana had used to order supplies.

“Not many people at this point,” Martha said. “But we’re trying to stick to what Ariana said would build a customer base.”

“What if she’s wrong? She’s not here to see how it’s going or how exhausted everyone is.” Skylar tapped a specific page in the catalog. “You need an espresso machine, an espresso grinder, a gourmet brewer, and a commercial blender for making frozen espresso drinks.”

“You do know the café doesn’t have electricity, right?” Susie asked.

Skylar blinked. “Is that even legal in this country—serving food in a place without electricity?”

“It’s unusual, not illegal,” Susie said. “Quill rewired the old building, bringing the electrical wiring up to code, and it passed inspection. So the setup is legal, at least in this state. But everything in the café uses gas, including the refrigerator. If Ariana, as the actual owner, had an Englisch business partner, the church would allow the Englisch co-owner to bring in electricity.”

“That’s weird.”

“It’s a way to hold on to our culture and yet allow Amish-owned small businesses some flexibility. But that would also give the Englisch co-owner a good share of the profits, so it’s not a solution for us.”

Skylar thumped the catalog. “Is that why the barn has that huge generator?”

“Ya, it powers the milkers and runs the refrigeration for the milk tank,” Martha said.

“Would the café be allowed to use a generator?”

“Ya. But everything you’re talking about doing would cost a lot of money.” Abram moved to the fireplace, grabbed the poker, and crouched down. “Odd, really. You’ve yet to set foot in the café, but you have strong and really expensive ideas of what would work better for it.”

“And very Englisch ideas,” Martha added softly.

“Fine.” Skylar held up both hands. “Forget I mentioned anything. But I’m right.”

Susie tapped the pen against the legal pad. “You seem so sure about what needs to be done. Why?”

“My mom loves coffee shops. As far back as I can remember, finding new coffee shops and going to them every Saturday morning was our thing. Apparently I learned a few things without realizing it.”

The room was silent as Abram poked the logs, causing sparks to fly and flames to leap. Was Skylar asking to change the opening time of the café because she wanted to sleep later?

Skylar closed the catalog and tossed it onto the coffee table, looking disinterested. “Do it your way. Exhaust your creative energy getting up superearly six days a week. Serve weak coffee and only the regular kind. Have no breakfast breads. Doesn’t matter to me.”

“The strength of the coffee is my fault,” Martha said. “Ariana wrote down on an index card how to fix it, and I lost it. Her coffee was good, but I’ve been making it like Mamm and Daed do.”

Abram hadn’t realized that they had been using different instructions for the coffee than what Ariana had given.

“It’s not as if your ideas are bad.” He put the poker back in its stand and added a log to the fire. “Some—maybe all—have merit. But we would have to take on debt to purchase the things you’re talking about.”

“It’s an investment,” Skylar said.

“It’s a gamble.” Abram stood.

“You know”—Skylar picked up the catalog again—“one would think the Amish were used to taking gambles. You take your life into your hands to ride in a carriage on the road—no seat belts, no reinforced steel anything, and moving at the pace of a turtle. But apparently buying a commercial blender and coffee machines is over the top.” She held out the book to him. “It’s no skin off my nose whether this café makes it or not.”

Martha flinched. “Are we struggling that much?” Her eyes were large as she looked from Abram to Susie.

“Nee.” Susie shook her head. “I mean, it’s been a rough start. And you know we’ve yet to have our croissants or scones turn out well enough that customers would buy them a second time.”

Skylar held her two fingers as if she had a cigarette between them and tapped them against her thumb. “So let me get this straight. You and Martha are in over your heads, and Abram has quit his day job to help with the café, but all my suggestions are useless?”

Susie rubbed her forehead. “It’s just your ideas are…”

“Different from what Ariana wanted, right?” Skylar asked.

“I was going to say expensive.” Susie looked at her notes. “Everything you’ve mentioned will take several thousand dollars, and that’s if we go with the less expensive versions.”

“Never buy cheap or used equipment for coffee. Your customers will know it first thing.”

Susie looked to Abram. “I guess we could tap into the reserve cash from the benefit.”

“That’s for making sure the bills can be paid in the coming months,” Martha said.

“Ya, I know. But it’s not enough to keep the bills paid until Ariana gets back,” Susie said. “We have to get more people coming in. Right now we have no repeat customers other than Amish friends who would support us if we were serving mud.”

Martha pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Do you even know anything about making these different sorts of coffee?”

“Apparently more than you know about baking croissants and scones, which actually brings me to another topic. If you can’t do a good job of making what’s on the menu, change the stupid menu.”

Susie’s lips puckered to one side as she looked to Abram. “I think she’s right,” she said, appearing terrified by the idea. “We don’t have to purchase everything at once, but we need to change how we’re doing things, starting with a commercial generator, coffee grinder, and a change of menu.”

Skylar grinned, not really looking happy but more like the cat who’d swallowed the canary.

Abram caught her eye, and she held his gaze. About twelve hours ago she’d asked if they could still use some help in the café, and now she was brimming with ideas about making the café better. Strange, very strange. But Skylar wasn’t holed up in her bedroom, and she was engaged in a positive conversation. That had to count for something.

“Okay.” Abram motioned from Susie to the catalog. “You take a few days to figure out exactly what you need and fill out the form. When that’s done, I’ll get a cashier’s check from the bank and put the order in the mail.”

“Is there an Amish reason you don’t own a debit card? Because if you had one, you could place the order by phone.”

“No Amish reason. We’re just new to having a little money and running a business.”

“Get a debit card, Abram,” Skylar said. “It’ll make life easier. Trust me.”

But that was the question, wasn’t it? Whether or not Skylar could be trusted.