Sitting on the ground beside Clyde’s tree, Helen held both hands over her stinging left eye, trying not to cry.
“Helen, are you okay?” She heard Mark’s voice above her.
The pain was so intense she couldn’t open her eyes. “Nee, I can’t see.”
“Stay still. I’ll be right down.”
“Oh, great,” she muttered. This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid. Clyde proceeded to lick her ear and bark eagerly. She pushed him away. “Stop. This is all your fault.”
By the time Mark reached her side the pain had eased some, but she still couldn’t open her eyes without the discomfort returning, so she kept them tightly closed. He grasped her by the shoulders. “What’s wrong, Helen?”
“Something hit me in the eye.”
“I’m afraid it was my slipper. What are you doing here?”
His slipper? “Why did you throw your slipper out the window?”
“I was aiming at the dog. Not aiming exactly, but I was trying to scare him into going home.”
She peeked with her good eye. Clyde was dancing around them, happily wagging his tail and darting in to lick her ear then trying to lick Mark, who pushed him away. “He doesn’t look scared to me,” she said drily.
“Helen,” Mark said slowly. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”
“I was trying to stop Clyde from waking you, but I got here too late.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning.”
“I heard a commotion outside my aunt’s home. When I looked out my window, I saw Clyde disappearing into the woods in this direction. I got dressed, grabbed his leash and got on my bicycle to try and get here before him. I didn’t know he could run so fast. I mean, look at him! He’s all flab, and he has little stubby legs, but he got here first and started howling before I could grab his collar. I heard you yell, and I looked up. The next thing I know something hit me in the eye.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Helen struggled to her feet. “I know it was an accident. We seem to have a lot of them, you and me.”
“That is an understatement. I’ll get the buggy and take you home.”
She managed to keep her eye open for a few seconds before she had to squint again. “I don’t need a ride. My bicycle is up on the road. Would you snap the leash on Clyde, please?”
“You can’t ride a bike and manage Clyde, too.” He fastened the lead and handed it to her.
“I’ll walk him home. The sound of a horse and buggy driving up to the house might wake Charlotte. I’d rather avoid that.” Helen climbed up the slope leading to the road with one eye open. She looped Clyde’s leash around the handlebars and started for the bridge. He wasn’t in the mood to go and nearly jerked the bike out of her hands as he tried to dart back to his tree. “Clyde, please, I just want to go home.”
“Let me have him.” Mark had followed her and stood with his hand out.
She sighed and untied the dog. “Okay.”
Mark took it, and Clyde immediately sat beside him looking up with what she could only describe as an expression of doggy admiration. She cupped her hand over her stinging eye again. “I think Charlotte is right. He likes you.”
“I’m so honored.”
Helen had to chuckle at his sarcasm. “Imagine how boring this week would have been without Clyde. I wouldn’t have almost run you over with a buggy.”
“I wouldn’t have taken a dive into a mud puddle.”
“And you wouldn’t have been wearing my delicious cream horns on your shirt front.”
“You wouldn’t have tried to burn your aunt’s house down. Did you locate the fire extinguisher?”
“I did. Without Clyde, I wouldn’t have a shoe print on my face.” The pain was almost gone. She could keep both eyes open if she squinted.
“Let me see.” He leaned forward to see her face by the light of the moon. “Your eye may be red for a while, but I don’t think it will leave a mark.”
“If it does, I’m telling everyone at church on Sunday that you stepped on my face.”
“You wish to get me shunned?” he asked in outrage.
“Nee, I wouldn’t. I’m only teasing.”
“I know, so am I,” he said with a grin. She smiled softly in return and started walking again.
He stared after her. He’d never teased or been teased by a woman before. He’d certainly never spent a moonlit night walking a girl home. Helen’s presence had become comfortable in a way he hadn’t thought possible. Maybe it was because she wasn’t looking for husband. He didn’t have to worry that his attention would be mistaken. He liked the idea of having her as a friend.
Clyde jerked on the lead, forcing Mark to stumble forward. As soon as he caught up with Helen, Clyde stopped pulling and walked quietly beside him.
Mark stared at the dog and stood still again. Once Helen was a few steps ahead, Clyde started pulling on his lead. When Mark caught up with her, Clyde ambled quietly beside Mark, occasionally bumping against his leg, forcing him to move closer to Helen. “This is a strange dog.”
“He gets it from Charlotte. She talks to him like he understands what she is saying.”
“Do you think he does?”
She shot him a look of disbelief. “He’s a dog, Mark.”
“Yeah, you’re right. He’s just a dog.” Wasn’t he?
Clyde wagged his tail and woofed once.
“What are you going to do with your leftover baked goods?” he asked to change the subject.
“I will take some to church on Sunday and freeze some. I’ll take the rest to the shop on Monday. Charlotte and I can’t eat themÁ all.”
“Aenti Anna said you are welcome to sell some baked goods at her gift shop.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You are giving up too easily.”
“I’m not giving up,” she insisted. “I know I can turn a profit if others can. I need to start small and work my way up.”
“You failed to make a profit on your first attempt, but that isn’t unusual for a new business venture. You made some beginner mistakes.” Mark found himself on familiar ground. He knew the ins and outs of business, and he didn’t mind sharing that knowledge.
“And now you’re going to tell me what they were?” Helen asked. “It might have been helpful if you had told me beforehand.”
“I didn’t tell you because you didn’t ask. You have enthusiasm, but your approach lacks common sense. You overestimated the amount you could reasonably sell because you didn’t do your research. You failed to identify who your customers are, and you failed to study your competition. A well-thought-out business plan is important before you take the first step of investing time and energy. That’s why you didn’t do well.”
She started walking faster. “I can’t thank you enough for pointing out my shortcomings.”
“You’re quite welcome. We can all learn from our mistakes.”
“My mistake was letting you walk me home.” She sounded angry, and he didn’t know why.
“I don’t understand.”
Helen stopped in her tracks. “I don’t need a lecture from you.”
“I thought you wanted my advice.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “You thought wrong. Since you seem to know so much about business, why don’t you come up with a plan that will work?”
“For you?”
“Ja, for me. I’d like to see you figure out everything I need to do to turn a profit. Since you are a furniture maker and not a baker, I don’t believe you can do any better than I did.”
“It would be difficult to do worse.”
She made that huffing sound that told him he should’ve stopped talking a while back. She got on her bike and began to pedal away from him. He had to jog to catch up. She pedaled faster.
He was winded by the time they reached her aunt’s house. He bent over with his hands braced on his knees to catch his breath. Clyde flopped to the ground, panting heavily.
Helen took the dog’s lead from Mark’s hand. “Thank you for escorting me home. Good night.”
“I’ll do it,” he wheezed.
“What?”
“I’ll come up with a business plan for you,” he said between deep breaths, wondering why he felt compelled to help someone who clearly didn’t want it.
“Don’t bother.” She tugged Clyde up the porch steps.
Mark straightened, ignoring the stitch in his side. “It’s no bother.”
She entered the house and shut the door without answering.
* * *
Sunday, after the three-hour church service and a midday meal, Helen sat beside Fannie and Rebecca Bowman, watching the young people enjoying a game of volleyball. Helen had given up playing after her baptism. She missed the friendly competitions, but she was happy in the company of her new friends. It was nice to relax and have a conversation with young women near her own age.
Fannie nibbled on one of Helen’s cream cheese–stuffed crescent rolls. “How is your job going? Do you like it?”
Helen shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m learning a lot about wood and tools.”
Rebecca held the hand of her toddler as the boy walked with shaky steps to Fannie. “Samuel tells me you’re catching on quickly.”
“I’m happy someone thinks so. I’m afraid Mark isn’t of the same opinion. He’s the most arrogant man I have ever met!” Helen rubbed her left eye. It was better, but Mark’s comments about her shortcomings still rankled.
“Don’t take Mark’s cool attitude personally,” Rebecca said. “Samuel said he’s been like that all his life. He thinks it’s because Mark’s mother died when he was so young, and his father had trouble taking care of him. Mark ended up being shuffled from one family to the next while his father searched for work. The poor child never stayed anywhere more than a few months until he came to live with Isaac and Anna. They refused to send Mark back to his father until he had a steady job. Mark lived here for two years. His father eventually remarried and settled down, but by then Mark didn’t want to go back.”
“Did he stay here?” Helen asked, more interested than she cared to admit.
“His father insisted he come home. Isaac and Anna gave in but not before a lot of tears were shed.”
“What about Paul?” Fannie asked.
Rebecca held out her hands to her son. He grinned and bounced on Fannie’s lap. “Paul and Mark aren’t related by blood. Paul’s mother was a widow with a young son when she married Mark’s father. They had five children together, so Mark and Paul each have five younger half siblings.”
Fannie held the baby’s fingers while he took steps back to Rebecca. “Paul and Mark act like brothers.”
“They do,” Helen agreed. She looked across the lawn to where Mark stood in conversation with Bishop Beachy, Samuel and Isaac. Mark’s story gave her a little more insight into his personality. Had a childhood of insecurity produced a man who craved order? It made sense. Maybe she needed to be more tolerant of his quirks instead of taking offense.
On Monday, Helen resolved to be pleasant to him, but she had little opportunity to put her resolution into effect, for he worked on carving a new mantelpiece the entire day and left her to manage the supply room alone.
She walked out of the shop a little after four o’clock in the afternoon. Isaac had closed early because many of the men were traveling to a wedding the next day. Mark was sitting in an open-topped buggy outside the front door. He nodded toward the passenger side. “Get in.”
She arched one eyebrow. “You forgot to say please.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Please get in.”
She smiled. “See how much more pleasant you sound when you use that one small word?”
“Are you going to get in or not?”
“There’s no need for you to take me home. I rode my bike to work.”
“I’m not taking you home. I’m taking you to the farmers’ market in Apple Creek to see what you did wrong.”
His pointed reminder of her failure at the last market crumpled her new resolve. “I didn’t bake anything, so I have nothing to sell.” She walked past him to where her bicycle was parked.
Mark clicked his tongue to make his mare move up beside her. “You challenged me to come up with a business plan for you.”
“And you haven’t said a word about it. You barely spoke to me today.”
“I was busy. I’m willing to talk about it now. The first rule of business is to know your customer. The second is to know your competition. You have a good product, but you don’t know what the demand for it is. You don’t know the price point you should set, and you don’t know what sells best at a farmers’ market.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “It was glaringly apparent that I did not know these things. I thought good food would sell itself.”
“One way to learn the business without so much painful trial and error is to observe your competition in action. Come on. I can develop a plan for you, but I can’t implement it for you.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that you don’t talk like an Amish person?”
He tipped his head to the side. “What does that mean?”
“You use big, hard-to-understand words.”
“I have furthered my education. I’m sorry you don’t like the tone of my speech. What words didn’t you understand?”
“Implement.”
“It means I can’t start the plan for you.”
“Why don’t you say that?”
“Come along with me. Don’t you want to see what you did wrong?”
“Maybe.”
“I think I know you better than that. I think underneath that I-don’t-care exterior, you’re dying to give it another go.”
How did he know she was itching to try once more? Maybe she wasn’t as good at pretending indifference as she thought she was. “You’re right. I am.”
She rushed around the back of the buggy and climbed into the passenger seat, ignoring the self-satisfied grin on his face.
“That’s the spirit.” He slapped the reins against the horse’s rump and guided her out onto the road. She trotted along at a brisk clip.
Helen gradually relaxed and began to enjoy the ride. It was a lovely spring afternoon. The sun was shining, but a north breeze kept it from becoming too hot. She stole a glance at Mark. “I have to ask. What prompted you to offer me this help?”
He met her gaze. “Your determination. Anyone else would have given up trying to get a job with me after the abject failures you had. It was dogged determination on your part, and I admire that.”
“Desperation not determination.”
“I don’t agree. You encounter a dilemma, and you attack it. Your sister steals your fiancé. You don’t hide at home, you set out to make a new life for yourself in another state. You don’t want to continue living with your odd aunt. You decided you needed a job, and you kept at it until you were hired.”
“Aenti Charlotte was responsible for that.”
“Perhaps, but few people would have come to face me after the humiliation you suffered. You wanted to earn extra money, so you decided on a course of action based on sound principles. You enjoy baking, and you’re very good at it. Then you put your idea in motion. Your vision suffered a setback, but I don’t believe you’ll let that stop you. You will try again, and ultimately I think you will succeed.”
“You do? You think I will succeed at my own business?”
“We all have a different idea of what success is, but I think you will reach your goal of being able to move out of your aunt’s home.”
Helen folded her hands together and raised her eyes to heaven. “Please let that be what happens. I love Charlotte, but she and Clyde are a trial to live with.”
“Has she always been strange, or is she getting worse because she is getting older?”
“She’s always been different, but her obsession with her pets is getting worse. I think she is lonely, but she claims she enjoys living alone.”
“Sometimes people say one thing and mean another.”
Was he talking about himself or her aunt? She wondered if he was as indifferent to her as he tried to make out. “I have been guilty of that in the past.”
“I take it the flyers have not been successful in locating Juliet?”
“One Englisch man stopped by to say that he had seen her by the side of the road on the way into town, but he couldn’t say for sure that it was Juliet. He wanted to know if there was a reward. I’m not sure he saw anything, but it could’ve been another raccoon.”
“Surely by now your aunt is ready to accept that Juliet might not return.”
“Nee, she isn’t ready to give up. She says she has a hunch that Juliet will turn up.”
“A hunch is just a guess,” he said softly.
“Or a wish.”
Helen had a hunch that Mark was interested in her. Was it a guess or a wish? The last thing she wanted to do was to steal another woman’s fiancé. No matter how much she might like Mark, she could never act on those feelings. He wasn’t free. She had to keep a lid on her emotions until he left in a few weeks. If she could. He was much too good at reading her feelings.
The ride in the countryside was beautiful. Farmhouses along the way had flowers blooming in abundance in the yards, including colorful tulips and daffodils. The fruit trees were in bloom, and the cattle stood knee-deep in bright green grass.
It wasn’t long before the outskirts of the town came into view. Small houses with small lawns gave way to businesses that lined both sides of the streets. He slowed the mare and stopped at a red light. Helen looked around in amazement. “The traffic is much heavier today.”
“It will stay this way most of the summer and into the fall. This community is a tourist destination. Bowmans Crossing is still far enough off the beaten path to avoid much of this, but I don’t think it will stay that way for long.”
He found a place to park and, after leaving his horse with feed and water, he reached up to help Helen get down. The touch of his hand on her arm sent a thrill spiraling through her midsection. He quickly pulled his hand away as if he felt the sensation, too. She pretended to admire the array of tents and canopies that had been set up.
“If I do continue, I will need a canopy.”
“Why not a tent?”
“Because I want my food to be on display. I don’t want people to walk by because they don’t know what’s inside.”
“Goot. Now you are thinking like a businesswoman. Write it down in your notebook.”
“How did you know I brought a notebook?” she asked as she extracted it from her bag.
“During your orientation at work, you kept writing in one. I assumed you would want to take notes today.”
“I’m not sure I like the way you seem to know what I’m thinking.”
“I observe people, and I learn things about them. It’s no secret.”
“Maybe not, but it’s a little creepy.”
They walked together down the grassy aisle between the booths. Everything from woven baskets to carved wooden toys and fresh honey was for sale. The booth that was selling baked goods was doing a brisk business.
“What do you see that you like about their setup?” Mark asked.
“The displays are beautiful, and they are tipped at an angle so people can see them better. I had my things arranged flat on the table. I see they are giving out samples, too. I didn’t want to give away my product, but I see now that if people like what they taste, they will purchase more. I also see that my prices were high.”
“Folks come to a farmers’ market for bargains. Notice what people are buying and what they are eating.” Mark tipped his head toward an Englisch mother with two small children. The children each had a cookie in their hands.
“Things they can carry and eat as they shop.” She noticed cookies and muffins in the hands of several other patrons. No one was carrying two-layer cakes.
“Shall we see what the other food vendors are doing?”
“Ja, I’d like to do that. Did you know all these things before you suggested I try selling my goods at a farmers’ market?”
“I noticed them while I was watching you last Friday. You weren’t selling much. I know your product is good, so there had to be a reason people weren’t buying.”
“I should have done that instead of being hurt and humiliated that no one wanted my cooking.”
“You’re doing it now.”
“I reckon you can teach this old dog new tricks,” she said with a chuckle, and he grinned.
She had made him smile. The satisfaction she felt was far out of proportion to her accomplishment. Movement across the way caught her eye.
“Mark, look, there is another basset hound. Isn’t she cute?” Helen walked toward the Englisch couple holding the dog’s leash. The dog was following her mistress’s commands and showing off some tricks, earning treats from a plastic bag.
“I’m not sure I would use the word cute,” Mark said drily.
“I think she is. I’m going to talk to them.”
“Of course you are.” Mark tagged along behind her.
She stopped in front of a couple. “Hello. I just had to say what a pretty basset hound you have. What is her name?”
The woman smiled. “She has an AKC-registered name, but we call her Bonnie.”
Helen laughed. “My aunt’s dog is Clyde.”
The woman chuckled. “That is too funny. Bonnie and Clyde. We absolutely must get them together someday for a playdate. Does your aunt live nearby?”
“She lives just past Bowmans Crossing. What is a playdate?”
“It means getting together to let the dogs have some fun. We make a date to let the dogs play together. A playdate.”
“Now I’ve heard of everything,” Mark muttered. “Making a date for your dog.”
“I think it’s a great idea.” Helen squatted on her heels to pet Bonnie. “She’s so well trained. My aunt’s dog is...not so well trained.”
Mark pushed the brim of his hat up with one finger. “He’s a self-taught terror.”
Helen grinned at him. “I’m afraid Mark is right. Clyde is very stubborn, and my aunt spoils him something fierce.”
“Is he play motivated or is he food motivated?” the woman asked.
“He’s mischief motivated,” Mark answered.
Helen ignored him. “I’d say he is food motivated.”
“Then you might try training him with some of these.” She held out her baggie with a few remaining dog treats in it. “Bonnie will do just about anything for one.”
Helen stood and took the bag from her. “What are they?”
“Peanut butter–flavored, all-natural, low-calorie dog snacks. I make them myself.”
“Really? Clyde does enjoy peanut butter.” She hadn’t noticed before but many of the Englisch shoppers had their dogs with them. Had that been the case at the Berlin market, or was this something that Apple Creek encouraged?
“I can write out the recipe, if you like. It’s simple,” the woman offered.
Helen smiled her thanks. “That would be very kind. I have a notepad and pencil.”
The woman scribbled out the recipe and handed it to Helen. “I use a cookie cutter to make them bone-shaped, but small flattened balls will do just as well.”
“Danki, thank you.” Helen placed the notebook in her pocket, gave Bonnie one last pat on the head and walked off with Mark. Together, they strolled along the row of tents and booths until they came to a baker’s display.
Mark took his time deciding on a cream horn while Helen chose a raspberry scone. They moved away to eat their purchases.
“Yours are better,” he said after he popped the last bite in his mouth.
“These scones are wunderbarr.” Helen kept her eye on what people were buying from the baker as she nibbled. Although there were two beautifully decorated cakes in the display case, people were buying items that were easy to carry, and the baker was handing out order forms for special-occasion cakes to customers who expressed an interest. Packages of cookies, scones, cinnamon rolls and cake pops sold the best. Occasionally, someone bought a loaf of specialty bread.
“What do you see that you could incorporate into your booth next time?” Mark asked.
“Pretty tablecloths. I can easily invest in another table and an awning for shade. I wonder how much those acrylic display cases are.”
“Why would you need them?”
She swatted at a fly buzzing around her face. “To keep the insects off the food. I’m going to ask the baker where he got them and how much they are.”
She took a step toward the booth, but stopped and turned around. “Mark, I have to thank you. I don’t know how long it would have taken me to figure this out by myself.”
“You would have done it,” he said, and she knew he meant it. The warmth that settled in her chest had little to do with his compliment and more to do with the admiration in his eyes.
Am I falling for him? I can’t be. She turned away quickly. Their buggy ride home suddenly loomed large in her thoughts.