Mary jumped to her feet as Noah drove away from the river. Tears sprang to her eyes. Surely the bishop and the Gmay, the church members, wouldn’t deny her this opportunity. Would they? Could they?
Nein, she hadn’t considered that. She participated last year, but they only paid the winner $200 then. This year, they were trying to attract more festivalgoers so they increased the prize money.
She raced to her buggy. Her hands shaking as she picked up the reins and set King to a smart pace. The buggy rocked as he lengthened his gait. A mile down the road, Mary turned into Bishop Yoder’s drive, parked and hurried to his front porch.
She hesitated at the door. It was early, maybe too early to pay the bishop a visit. She drew in a deep breath, blew it out and knocked.
After a few seconds, the door opened and Mrs. Yoder stared at her with a surprised look on her face. “Gut Morgen, Mary.” Rebecca waved her in. “You’re an early bird this morning.”
“Mornin’, Rebecca. Would it be possible to see the bishop? It’s important.”
“Of course. Wait right here.” The stout woman gave her a peculiar survey before hurrying down the hallway off the vestibule.
Mary inhaled a deep whiff of fresh-brewed coffee as she pressed her right hand to her heart to slow its runaway drumming. The last time she’d visited the bishop’s farm was a year ago when she had to inform him that Seth had canceled their wedding.
Bishop Yoder appeared at his office door. He nodded at his frau and headed toward Mary, his hair a bit mussed, as if he hadn’t planned on a visitor this early.
“Gut Morgen, Mary. It must be important for you to interrupt my prayer time.” His words were to the point but softly spoken.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about the time. I was on my way to work, but I can come back.” Heat rose to her cheeks as she turned toward the door.
“Nein, nein. I’m up. We can talk. Come.” He led the way down the hall to his office, motioned for her to go in, then stuck his head into the kitchen across the hall. “Rebecca, would you please bring us two cups of coffee?”
The room was small, cool and sparsely decorated with only a desk and three chairs, counting his. She sat in a hard wooden chair in front of his desk and waited for the bishop to give her a sign to start talking. He talked about the weather and asked about her family.
Rebecca knocked. After his reply, she set the tray on his desk and closed the door. He motioned for Mary to grab a cup. “Now, what is this all about?”
She took a sip and set the cup back on the tray. “I want to enter the fall festival baking contest and compete for the $10,000 prize.” She blurted out as a nudge of excitement loosened her tongue.
The bishop’s eyes widened. “Mary, our belief is that we live in community and give up personal expression. The Ordnung calls us to live in submission to God’s will. We live in harmony with the others in our community. We do not compete for who is best.”
His words speared her heart. Mary straightened her back as her old rebellious nature clutched her. “Bishop, the bakery is our livelihood. Daed and Mamm have medical bills from the twins’ birth that we do not burden the community with. We pay from Sweet Delights’ revenue.”
“Jah, I understand. But we do not seek acclaim for what we do. We strive for a godly life to attain eternal salvation.”
Mary sat forward on the chair and squared her shoulders. “I am not doing it to brag or boast. In fact, I have very little chance of even winning. Many who enter the contest will have gone to culinary school, like the winner of the contest last year. With the new grocery opening across the street, our bakery has already lost business. This is no different from offering a loaf of bread for sale. I make it, and if they like it, they purchase it. I need to compete with other businesses, and to do that, I need to expand our menu. In order to do that, I need the prize money.”
The bishop rubbed his hand down his beard as he directed his gaze toward the ceiling.
Leaning back, Mary gripped the arms of the hard, wooden chair. The longer he took, the more her pulse increased and the further her heart sank.
Bishop Yoder lowered his gaze to her. “Jah, it would appear that you have the same right to offer your product, but this is highly unusual. Accepting the money for a recipe is one thing, but you must not accept a trophy. And the other ministers may want to discuss it, but we will see. I’ll let you know. Now, Rebecca will have my breakfast ready.” He stood, motioned toward the door and followed her down the hall to the entrance.
Heading out of the haus, Mary blew out a deep sigh. She climbed in the buggy and relaxed back against the seat for her ride to Sweet Delights. She unhitched King, led him to the corral and hurried to the back door.
As she approached, a light shining out a high window caught her attention. Had she left the light on yesterday when she went home? Nein, she always walked through her routine. Her keys jangled as she unlocked Sweet Delights’ back door. She drew in a deep breath of humid Iowa August air. She pushed the door slowly open and peeked in.
She laughed at the sight of her assistant and then stepped into an atmosphere scented with medium-roast hazelnut brewing. “You’re in early, Amanda.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” Amanda yawned and clasped an elbow over her mouth for a second. “Coffee is almost ready.”
“Danki, I could use some. I had to stop by Bishop Yoder’s haus and ask if I could enter the baking contest. He’s going to let me know.” Mary stowed her quilted bag in the closet and grabbed the ingredients for a batch of sugar cookies.
Within a few minutes, she was popping them in the oven and starting on the chocolate chip batch. Amanda’s yeast bread and rolls cooling on the counter sent warm, steamy whiffs of honey and cinnamon into the air.
“You’re in early, too. Couldn’t sleep? Thinking about Noah’s bakery or Noah?” Amanda teased.
“Neither.” That man infuriated her. “After Seth ran off to go live with the Englisch, I just want to avoid men, especially if they are Englisch. They can’t be trusted. I thought I knew Seth, knew what he wanted. I thought he wanted me. I was blind.” Jah, he talked about the Englisch world and wanting to be able to do whatever he wanted with no rules to restrict him. But she’d thought it was just talk. When Seth asked her to go with him and she said nein, he’d strolled out of her haus and out of her life...forever.
Amanda pulled a pan of tea biscuits from the oven and set them to cool. “We both are gut bakers, but we have terrible taste in men. I’ve always liked Ethan Lapp, but he doesn’t know I exist, at least not anymore. When Ethan and I were younger, we were neighbors, grew up together, went fishing and palled around together every chance we got. I guess my feelings grew and his didn’t. Now whenever he’s in the bakery, he just asks me about Jenny. He asked me if I knew if she had a boyfriend. I’ve seen him talking to her.”
“I’m sorry, Amanda. Do you want me to casually let it drop to Ethan that you like him?”
“Nein, but danki for the offer.
“You, my friend, are a lovely slim redhead, and a great baker. You’ll find your Mr. Wunderbaar. He’ll come along when you least expect it and sweep you away from my bakery.”
“Danki. You are sweet to say that.”
Mary tucked her broken engagement in the attic of her mind and slammed the door closed. “I have news. There is no chance Noah and I will become friends. He told me this morgen that he’s entering the fall baking contest. He’s planning on winning, taking the prize and getting all the benefits, meaning customers. He is now a rival.”
Amanda gasped. “Don’t worry, you’ll win.”
“Jah, I’ll try to find the perfect recipes.” Mary pulled her cookies from the oven while her mind wandered back to Noah at the river. She hated to admit it, but it was nice of him to stop and see if she had a problem.
Amanda pushed the cart up to the counter. “Ready to load?”
“Yes, danki, time got away from me.” Mary helped Amanda pile the cart with rolls, bread and cookies, laughing like two young girls as they filled the display case.
At 7:00 a.m., Mary pulled the dead bolt back and flipped the sign to Open. Before she reached the counter, Carolyn Ropp pushed the door open, bumping her Miller’s Farm-fresh Grocery bag against the doorjamb.
“Morgen, Mary.” She sighed. “I’ll sure be glad when canning season is over so I can get some rest. A loaf of wheat bread, please.”
Mary picked up a loaf and turned to Carolyn. “Did you say one or two loaves?”
“Just one.”
“Last week you got two.” Mary bagged the loaf and set it on the counter.
Carolyn’s face turned a bright red as she fished the money out of her purse. “I stopped at the grocery across the street. His bread looked so gut that I just had to try one.”
“Of course, I understand.” Heat engulfed Mary’s chest. She pushed her mouth into a smile as Carolyn whirled around and headed toward the door.
Frank Wallin held the door open as Carolyn hustled out. He raised his brow at her abrupt exit but nodded a greeting and headed for the counter. “Good morning, Mary. I’ll take my usual.”
She nodded and prepared his order. “I haven’t seen you for a couple of days, Frank, been running late?”
“Ah, yeah...running late.” Taking his breakfast, he laid down his money. “No change.” He hastily turned and headed for the door.
Amanda poked her head out of the kitchen. “See, your customers are loyal. They just visited Noah’s store because it was his grand opening.”
Mary walked across the bakery, glanced out the window and noticed some of her other customers walking on the sidewalk, carrying paper bags with Noah’s logo.
“Maybe, we’ll see.” The pit of her stomach flipped like a rubbery pancake. She returned to the counter just as Emily heaved the door open and jumped aside as it swept back closed.
“Good morning, Emily. What can I get you today?”
“I don’t have any money. I just wanted to say hi. I was bored watching Noah stock shelves.”
“You’re not helping?”
“He says it takes too long to tell me what to do when he can have it done in the time it takes to show me.” A lingering hint of hurt feelings pushed out the last few words.
“Well, I’m sure he’s trying to get the store restocked quickly. Tell you what, wash your hands, and you can help Amanda and me make cookies.”
“Okay!” Emily turned toward the washroom then stopped. “I heard Noah tell Jenny this morning that if nothing else, you’re a good baker.”
Mary jerked her head around. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. He also said you’re heavy-handed, and he said that meant you made your cookies and cupcakes really big so you can charge more.”
Mary watched Emily disappear behind the washroom door. Was that right? If nothing else...she was a gut baker but heavy-handed. He had his nerve saying that.
The Lord nudged her heart at her uncharitable thoughts toward Noah.
Emily held her hands up as she entered the kitchen. “All clean.”
“Very nice.” Mary handed Emily a cookie scooper. “Please drop walnut-size peanut butter cookies onto the baking sheet. After you’re finished, I’ll show you how to sugar and flatten them.”
Emily measured the dough out to precisely the size of a walnut and dropped it on the cookie sheet. “I like making cookies.”
“You do a very gut job, little one,” Amanda cooed.
Mary buttered the bottom of another pan. “When do you start school?”
“My first full day is the twenty-sixth. I’m scared though. Mom homeschooled me, but Jenny and Noah said they don’t have time this year.”
“You’ll like it. You’ll meet all the other kids in town, and you’ll find some nice friends.”
When the doorbell jingled, Mary hurried to the front of the bakery. “Morgen, Cyrus.”
“Gut Morgen. Nice to see you, Mary. My frau is still canning and would like two loaves of whole wheat bread.”
She bagged the bread and handed the sack across the counter to Cyrus, but he was staring off toward the kitchen with his jaw dropped open. Mary followed his gaze.
Emily stood in the kitchen doorway quiet as a rabbit. “Mary, I got all the dough dropped onto the cookie sheet.”
“Danki, sweetie. Why don’t you wash the dishes you used? I’ll be there in a minute.”
Cyrus waited until Emily disappeared into the kitchen and then whispered, “Who is that?”
“Emily Miller.”
“She looks familiar, but I can’t place her. Whose tochter?”
“Her parents are dead. She’s the sister of the new owner of Miller’s Farm-fresh Grocery, Delicatessen and Bakery across the street. He’s Englisch but his parents left the community during their rumspringa.”
“Englisch, you say.”
“Jah. Is something wrong?”
“Nein. She just looked familiar.”
After Cyrus left, Mary placed a glass and bowl of sugar in front of Emily and demonstrated how to press and sugar the cookies. “Okay, your turn.”
Emily picked up the glass, dipped the bottom in sugar, then pressed it gently against the cookie dough.
Mary patted her on the shoulder. “That looks great. They are the perfect size cookies. Honey, did you know that man that was just in the bakery?”
“No. Should I know him? He could have seen me at the store.”
“Jah, he just thought you looked familiar.”
“Maybe he could be the relative Noah is looking for?”
When Emily had the cookie sheet filled, Mary slid it in the oven. “I don’t know, but don’t worry about it. Noah will find who he is looking for.” Only Cyrus Miller and his family were very strict Old Order Amish, and she knew they didn’t mix with the Englisch. If they were the relatives Noah was looking for, it would be interesting to see how they accepted Noah and his family.
The heavy aroma of buttered breads and rolls, frosted cakes and rhubarb pies hit Noah the second he opened the door to Sweet Delights. When he moved closer to the counter, he smelled cinnamon-spiced coffee—the flavor of the day according to Saturday’s chalkboard.
Mary swiped her hands across her apron as she headed to the front of the bakery. Her step slowed when she saw Noah. “Hallo.”
“Would Emily happen to be here?” His voice wavered as he approached the counter. He wasn’t quite sure how she’d greet him after their confrontation at the river, but he wanted to make sure there wasn’t rift between them.
“Jah, she’s helping Amanda and me bake cookies. Can she stay a while longer so she can finish?”
“Sure, I just don’t want her to be a burden.”
Mary winced. “Nein, we liebe having her help and enjoy teaching her to bake. She is a gut student.”
“I know, it’s just that sometimes she’s overly helpful. She doesn’t have any playmates, so she gets bored.” He pushed his hands in his jean pockets and hooked his thumbs over the top.
“I understand.” Mary nodded. “But she’s doing a gut job helping us with baking.”
“Thanks for showing her how to bake. I really appreciate it.” Noah glanced at the pastry display case, then back at Mary. “Emily wanted to help me earlier when I stocked shelves, and I think I hurt her feelings. I tried to explain how to arrange the inventory, but she pushed everything together on a shelf at her level.” Guilt pricked at his heart as he forced the words from his mouth.
Mary nodded knowingly.
He pulled a hand from his pocket and gestured toward Mary. “I know what you’re thinking, that she’s small and that’s what makes sense to her, but I can’t have the store shelves looking like that. And it takes me twice as long to straighten out what she did as opposed to just doing it myself. But I have a job lined up for her this afternoon.”
Mary flashed him a reassuring smile. “She’ll like that. She wants to be helpful. But send her over any time. We like having her company. There’s always something she can do here in the bakery, and she’s very entertaining.” She raised a brow.
He wasn’t quite sure now exactly what she meant by entertaining. Sometimes Emily repeated things that you hadn’t even realized she had overheard. He tried to read Mary’s face but her expression covered any other telltale hints.
Noah glanced around. “How long have you had this shop?”
“The bakery belonged to my stiefmutter. She had it for several years. Her vater started it, and when he died, she took over. A few years ago, she married my daed, and now she has three small kinner, so I’ve been managing it for the last three years.”
“It looks like you’re doing a great job.”
“Danki. Cyrus Miller was in the bakery today and saw Emily. He asked her name and thought she look familiar. Do you know Cyrus?”
“No. Do you think he might be a relative of ours?”
“I’ll ask Mamm if she knew your parents. Cyrus may be a relative, but there are a lot of Millers in the area.”
“Oh, I get it now. Are you trying to shake me up, Mary? Are you saying I’m Amish and you want me to have to ask the bishop’s permission to enter the baking contest, too?” He chuckled. “By the way, did he give his approval?”
“Ha! You’ll have to wait until the contest to find out.” The doorbell jingled and Mary turned to the counter. “Have a gut day, Noah.”
Emily drifted through the kitchen doorway like a butterfly riding the breeze. She fluttered to Noah’s side and stopped. “Mary and Amanda let me help make cookies.” She held up a clear plastic baggie. “I got to keep these.”
He could see how proud she was of herself. “They look good. I heard you were a big help. I have bins assembled at the store, and I’d sure appreciate it if you could fill them with kitchen supplies.”
“Okay, but I want to come back again and help Mary sometime.”
“If she doesn’t mind, it’s fine with me.” He caught Mary’s nod as he started for the door.
At least he and Mary were still on speaking terms. Well, for the present anyway. In a few weeks when the baking competition started, that might all change.