Helen quietly followed Mark as he detailed the jobs he expected her to do. She’d had the forethought to bring a small notebook and pencil, so she was able to take notes as he went along.
He pushed open the swinging door of a room off the main woodworking shop. “This is where we keep most of our non-lumber supplies.”
Helen saw three sides of the room were lined floor to ceiling with bins in different sizes, all neatly labeled. The other side of the room held a large pegboard where various types of tools hung, also neatly labeled.
“You will need to keep an accurate inventory of parts, tools and hardware. Notify me when any items are running low. Each bin has the name of the item on the front and the minimal count number. For instance, this is our most popular cabinet pull.” He opened one of the drawers. “The lowest the count should ever be is sixteen.”
“Will I order more or simply notify you?”
“Notify me to start with. After you’ve been here awhile, I may let you take over ordering. If you make it past your probation.”
“What type of inventory counting system do you use? A computer program or ledger?”
He eyed her closely. “Ledger.”
“How often will I do cycle counts?” She scribbled a note to herself.
“Weekly on Mondays. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
“I worked in a small fabric shop for several years. Our inventory was fabric, buttons and threads, not hardware and wood. We did monthly cycle counts.” Helen saw the beginnings of respect in his eyes. She could handle this job, and she would prove it.
He slipped his thumbs under his suspenders. “A lot of inventory issues stem from improper employee training.”
She nodded. “I agree. Inventory inaccuracy, damage and misidentification can usually be traced to mistakes made by people.”
He frowned slightly. “As I was saying, proper training increases a business’s efficiency and cuts down on inventory issues.”
She resisted the urge to laugh at his pompous demeanor. Instead, she clasped the notebook in front of her and tried to appear the eager pupil. “I look forward to learning all I can from you. May I see the ledger so I can familiarize myself with your inventory?”
“It’s on my desk.”
She looked around. “Will I be working in here or will I be in the office?”
“Where would you like to work?”
“Out front with Jessica to begin with. I know I’ll have a lot of questions, and it will save running back and forth if I’m out there where I can ask someone without interrupting you needlessly.”
“I’ll have a desk put up front for you.”
“Who are your main suppliers? We should send them a card or letter letting them know I’ll be placing orders when my training is over.”
“Your concern should be making it past the thirty-day mark.” He turned on his heels and left the room.
Helen took a deep breath and sent up a quick prayer that she could do just that.
She made it through the rest of the day without subjecting Mark to a new disaster, in spite of his concerns. When he left to meet with one of their local wood suppliers, Helen was handed over to Samuel and Jessica. Her head was spinning with all the information poured over her in a single day, but she took copious notes and remained convinced that she could do the job.
When she arrived home just after five o’clock, she found her aunt pacing in the kitchen, distraught with worry. Her shoes were muddy. Her dress was torn at the hem, and her kapp was missing. Juliet hadn’t come home.
“I don’t know where she can be. I’ve called and I’ve called. I have searched everywhere.” Charlotte paced the floor of the kitchen, returning again and again to look out the door.
Helen hadn’t spared a thought the entire day for her aunt or her aunt’s missing pet, and her conscience smote her. She slipped her arm over her aunt’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry. I’ll help you look for her.”
“Will you? Bless you, dear.”
“Sit down for a few minutes and catch your breath. Let’s think about where she might have gone. Have you had anything to eat today?”
“Not since breakfast. I’m just so worried.”
Helen steered her aunt to the table. “Sit and I’ll make you a cup of coffee. When you’ve had a bit of a rest, we can put our heads together and figure out what to do next.”
As the coffee perked, Helen fixed a couple of chicken salad sandwiches from leftovers in her aunt’s propane-powered refrigerator. She set a plate in front of Charlotte. Taking a seat, Helen folded her hands and said a silent prayer of grace. When she was finished, she took a bite of her sandwich.
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder toward the door, where Clyde lay on his rug with his head on his paws and his eyes fixed on Juliet’s empty bed. His food remained untouched in his bowl. “He’s so sad. I worry about him.”
“Aenti, has Juliet ever disappeared like this before?”
“Only once. She was gone for an entire day but not overnight. That was weeks ago. She’s been content to be with us ever since.”
“That should make you feel better to know she came back once before.”
“I reckon it should, but it doesn’t.” Charlotte’s tone was so dejected that Helen’s heart went out to her.
Helen got up to pour them both a cup of freshly brewed coffee. “Do you know where she was when she stayed away before?”
“I saw her follow another raccoon into the forest.”
“Another raccoon? So perhaps she has a friend she has gone to visit. That seems the most likely possibility.”
Charlotte pushed her half-eaten sandwich aside. “You don’t think some terrible person made her into a hat, do you?”
“I do not. She wears a pretty pink collar. That would tell anyone she’s a pet.” But it wouldn’t prevent Juliet from returning to the wild if the instinct was strong enough.
“She could be caught in a trap.”
Helen shook her head vigorously. “It’s not trapping season. That takes place in the winter. Please try not to worry. Finish your sandwich, and we’ll go look for her together.”
“You must think I’m a narrish old woman to go on so about a raccoon.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“I raised her from a baby. Clyde found her in the forest and brought her home to me. He seemed to know she needed help. They’ve been devoted to each other ever since and to me. Clyde and Juliet don’t care that I’m absentminded. They don’t mind that I talk to myself or that I’m different. They don’t make fun of me behind my back as some of the children do. They just love me. They are kinder than many people.”
Helen reached across the table to lay her hand on Charlotte’s forearm. “Your family loves you, Aenti Charlotte.”
“I know, but they are far away, and letters can’t give me a hug when I’m lonely. Listen to me prattle. I’m sorry, Helen, I haven’t even asked about your new job today. How was it? Did you enjoy it?”
Helen shook a finger in mock annoyance. “I have a bone to pick with you about that.”
Charlotte folded her hands as her gaze shifted from Helen to the ceiling. “With me? Whatever for?”
“Mark Bowman didn’t tell you he wanted to hire me.”
Charlotte sighed and reached for the sugar bowl. “He didn’t?”
“He did not.”
After spooning two lumps of sugar into her cup, Charlotte stirred it slowly. “Did I get that mixed up? Well, it doesn’t matter. You were hired, weren’t you? I knew you’d do an excellent job, and I’m sure Mark quickly saw what an asset you are.”
“I’m not sure he would call me an asset yet, but I did get the job.” Although not because Mark wanted her to have it.
“And you like it?”
“It’s okay. I have a lot to learn. It’s not permanent yet. I was hired on a thirty-day trial basis.”
Charlotte raised her cup to her lips and peeked at Helen from beneath her lashes. “And you like Mark?”
Helen drew back. “I most certainly do not like him.”
“Oh. I thought you might have changed your mind. He does have nice eyes.”
“But he has terrible manners.” Helen opened her mouth to list his flaws but quickly changed her mind. It wouldn’t do to have her aunt repeating her comments, even if they were true. Helen suspected Mark would welcome an excuse to fire her.
“Did he enjoy the crescent rolls you baked for him?”
Helen chuckled. “He never got to try them, but at least he didn’t end up wearing them.”
“Will you bake something again tomorrow for him?”
Helen turned the idea over in her mind. She enjoyed baking more than just about anything. “I think so. The people at the business gobbled up what I took in today. I think I’ll make cinnamon rolls.”
“That sounds wunderbarr. With raisins and icing?”
“Is that the way you like them?”
“Ja. Lots of icing.”
“Then that’s what I’ll make, and I’ll leave plenty here for you.”
“Danki. Can we go look for Juliet now?”
“Of course. Did you take Clyde with you when you searched earlier?”
“I did.”
If Clyde with his keen nose couldn’t locate Juliet, Helen doubted they would be able to find her, but she didn’t voice her thoughts.
It was fully dark when they returned to the house, having searched up and down the river and woods in both directions without success. Clyde had cast about continually for a scent, but Helen had no idea if he was searching for his friend or a rabbit to chase.
Helen closed the door and lit the lamp over the kitchen table. “If she doesn’t come by morning, we’ll ask the neighbors to help us look for her.”
“Whatever am I to do if I don’t find her?” Charlotte wailed. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
Helen gathered her weeping aunt into her arms. “Don’t give up. It’s only been a day. I’m sure she’ll come home tonight. If she doesn’t, tomorrow we’ll spread the word that she is missing. I’ll tell the Bowmans and the people at the workshop. Someone may have seen her and not realized we are looking for her. The more eyes we have helping us the better.”
“You are so practical, Helen. You know just what to do.”
After helping her exhausted aunt to bed a half hour later, Helen turned on the battery-powered night-light that sat on Charlotte’s dresser. Clyde was curled in his dog bed in the corner, snoring loudly. Helen started out the door but stopped when her aunt spoke.
“I wasn’t happy when you first arrived and told me you were staying for the summer,” Charlotte said in a small voice. “I like living alone, but now I’m very glad you are with me.”
“I’m glad that I’m here, too,” Helen said quietly and closed the door.
In her room, Helen unpinned her kapp and hung it from a peg on the wall. She let her hair down and rubbed the top of her scalp where it sometimes got tender by the end of the day. After donning her nightgown, she sat on the edge of the bed and started brushing her hip-length hair.
So much had happened, it was hard to believe it had only been one day since the frolic. Like a child on a teeter-totter, she had gone from the low of her early-morning baking calamity to the high of getting a job and proving her worth to her new employer.
She chuckled as she remembered the look on Mark’s face when Isaac praised her and complimented Mark for hiring her. Clearly, his uncle’s approval meant more to him than getting rid of her, otherwise she would have been out the door in short order. Would she be able to earn Mark’s respect and keep her job? It surprised her how much she wanted to do so. He’d seen her at her worst. She wanted him to see her at her best. It’d be good to have him look at her without disgust or anger in his eyes. His “pretty green eyes,” as her aunt was fond of saying. He did have nice eyes, and he might have a sweet smile if he used it once in a while.
The high point of her day had given way to a new low again upon seeing her aunt’s anguish over her missing pet this evening. Helen was deeply touched by Charlotte’s admission that she was glad to have her here at such a time. She’d never thought much about her father’s odd sister except to wonder why she hadn’t married. To Helen that had seemed like a fate worse than death and yet, by her own admission, Charlotte was happy living alone. Perhaps that was true, but people needed people to care about them.
Helen finished brushing her hair. As she braided it, her thoughts turned back to Mark. What would he have to say to her tomorrow? Hopefully, he’d find some time to enjoy one of her cinnamon rolls and their day would get off to a better start. It was hard to imagine getting off to a worse one. Still, her morning’s difficulties had ended in a job, so it wasn’t a total loss.
She had never had to work so hard for something in her life.
Now, if only Juliet would see fit to come home tonight and take one worry off her shoulders.
Helen tied a ribbon to the end of her braid and knelt to say her prayers. It suddenly occurred to her she hadn’t thought about Joseph once since early that morning.
* * *
Mark sat bolt upright in bed as the hound’s baying reverberated through his open window. “Not again!”
A glance at the clock on his wall showed it was four thirty. He jumped out of bed and headed to the window. He could just make out Clyde’s white face pointing to the sky at the base of the tree through the foliage below. “Go home, you foolish dog!”
Clyde rose on his back feet, planted his front feet on the tree trunk and howled louder. The whole house would be awake in no time. Mark thrust his feet in his slippers, pulled a robe over his pajamas and rushed toward the stairs. His uncle looked out from his bedroom door as Mark went past. “I’ll take care of him, Onkel.”
“Why doesn’t she keep him at home?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to make certain Helen understands this isn’t acceptable.”
“It’s Charlotte’s dog, not Helen’s.” Isaac closed the bedroom door, and Mark went downstairs. It might not be Helen’s dog, but she was going to have to control him if Charlotte wouldn’t.
Mark opened the back door. In the moonlight, he saw Clyde was still standing with his front paws on the tree trunk, gazing upward. Another mournful howl rent the air. Mark grabbed him by his collar and pulled him away from the tree.
“Enough. Go home. Get.” He pointed toward the bridge.
Clyde wagged his tail happily and woofed, but he didn’t get.
“Come on. It’s this way,” Mark clapped his hands and walked a few feet toward the road. “Goot hund.”
The dog darted back to the tree, stood on his hind legs and howled a long, lonesome cry.
Mark jumped to grab his collar again. “Bad dog. You are going home, and this time I’m not waiting until a decent hour to return you. We’ll find out if Helen and Charlotte like being rousted out of bed in the middle of the night.”
He turned around to see Paul standing in the open doorway without his usual grin. He rubbed his face with both hands and headed toward the barn. “I’ll go hitch up the buggy and take him back this time.”
“Hitch the buggy, but I’ll take him.” Mark couldn’t wait to see Helen and tell her exactly what he thought of her crazy mutt.
The dog climbed in the buggy willingly and scrambled onto the front seat when Paul opened the door for him. “He looks eager to go home.”
“I wish he would stay home.” Having dressed for the day, because he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep, Mark climbed in and picked up the reins. Clyde tried to crawl into Mark’s lap. He pushed the dog away, muttering under his breath.
“What was that?” Paul asked, a grin pulling at one side of his mouth.
“If you still want to drive him home, you can because I have better things to do.”
Paul held up both hands. “Nee, he chose to serenade your window. I think he likes you.”
Clyde licked Mark’s ear and woofed. Paul burst out laughing. “See. He does like you. Shall I open the shop for you?”
Mark wiped the side of his head with his shirt sleeve. “I’ll be back to do that. Just make sure the generator is fueled.”
“I will, bruder. Enjoy your buggy ride.”
Mark clicked his tongue to get the horse moving. As they pulled away from the house, Clyde hung his head out the window and howled a long, lonely note. Once they passed through the covered bridge, the dog lay down on the seat with his head on his paws.
When Mark turned in Helen’s lane, he saw light pouring out the kitchen windows. Someone was already up. So much for his intention to rouse Helen from a sound sleep to see how she liked it. He pulled his horse to a stop at the hitching rail and got out. The dog tumbled out after him and waddled to the front porch. Mark followed.
Through the window, he saw Helen, wearing a dark blue dress and a black apron, standing at the kitchen table with her back to him. Her hair hung down in a long blond braid the color of ripe wheat in the sun. Instead of a prayer kapp, she wore a white kerchief tied at the nape of her neck. She was humming as she mixed something in a large bowl. The movement sent her braid swinging back and forth. He wondered what it would look like unbound. In his mind he could see it spread out like a cape of golden ripples shimmering in the light.
He shook off the fanciful thought and knocked on the door. She spun around, her eyes wide. She had another smudge of flour on her face, this time above her left eyebrow. He opened the door and stepped inside. Clyde squeezed past him and rushed to her, dancing about her legs with his tongue lolling and his tail wagging so fast it was almost a blur.
Her astonished gaze went from Mark’s face to the dog and back again. He folded his arms over his chest and glared at her.