Authors: Tricia Goyer
The woman’s unblinking eyes grew round. “Were you hurt?”
“Well, my ankle —”
“How wonderful for a man like that to be there at the right time.”
“I had a friend whose niece got lost once. She’d been on her way to school and a squirrel running through the trees caught her attention,” another Amish woman, no taller than Sarah’s shoulder, declared.
“Did they find her again?” The first woman reached out and grasped Sarah’s arm. “We know how dangerous getting lost can be, even if yer not a
kind
.”
“Oh,
ja
, but it was late at night when they found her, and she was frightfully cold.” The second woman turned to Sarah, lifting her head to meet her gaze. “Were you frightfully cold, dear?”
“For a time I was,” Sarah said with forced patience. “Until Jathan lit the fire.”
The women gasped and nodded their approval as if that was the most wonderful thing they’d ever heard.
“I’m sure the fire did much to help them both,” the taller woman said to her friend. “Not only to warm their bodies but to lift their spirits too. Don’t you think?”
Sarah nodded as the women continued, not that they noticed. They spoke about Jathan and the situation as if she weren’t there.
As the customers talked with each other, they also ordered bread and rolls and bought the last of Sarah’s cupcakes. Without a pause, Mrs. Schrock bagged up the items and handed them over. The women paid and stepped away from the counter, continuing to talk with each other as they did.
Sarah chuckled, watching the way the women’s stories jumped from subject to subject with everyone being able to follow along. The Amish in Montana didn’t buy as many baked goods — instead making the items themselves — but she heard the same type of talk at ice-cream socials and quilting circles. One spark of an idea led to another thought, and soon each woman was carrying on a conversation with a dozen people at once, but mostly with herself.
Sarah walked into the kitchen and the voices followed her through the large, open window that Jathan and Yonnie had made. She smiled, reminding herself she’d asked for it. Reminding herself she was the only one to blame if she had no relief from the constant chatter.
“Sarah, dear, will you be making any more cupcakes today?” A voice called from behind her. She glanced back, not knowing which woman asked, but all looked to her with eager faces.
“Well, I’ve never heard of Amish cupcakes being so popular,” Mrs. Schrock said with a forced smile. “But I suppose Sarah can make more of those instead of the cinnamon rolls.”
A murmur of approval rose up, followed by declarations that the women would be back later that afternoon. Sarah went back to wash the cupcake pans she’d used, but out of the corner
of her eye, she watched Jathan’s mother. Her smile faded as soon as the women moved to the door.
When the last woman left, Aunt Kay walked up and placed a hand on Mrs. Schrock’s shoulder. “I’ve never heard of Amish cupcakes. Cupcakes in the
Englisch
bakery in town,
ja
, but here?”
A twinge of anxiety struck Sarah’s heart. They had no idea she could hear them. Her embarrassment was tinged with a distant shame. She thought back to that day years ago when Patty had brought her those magazines with fancy cupcakes, the very magazines that ended up in the trash.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with cupcakes,” she mumbled to herself. They had the same ingredients as the other items she made. The only difference was the flavorings and the thin layer of vanilla bean frosting on top.
Jest as long as I don’t do any fancy decorating — at least not fer sale
. Aunt Lynette’s birthday was coming later in the month, and Sarah planned on decorating one cupcake to match the violets her aunt liked so. Tomorrow, she had the afternoon off. Maybe she could visit the cooking store down the street for ideas.
She’d just begun to gather the items for another batch of chocolate cupcakes when the back door opened. She turned just in time to see Jathan enter with a young woman by his side. She looked to be about fifteen years old, and Sarah guessed she was already done with school.
“Sarah!” Excitement filled Jathan’s face and he rushed over. “I was doing the books last night and business has already picked up fifty percent in a week.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’m already working on another large batch of cupcakes and it’s only ten o’clock.”
She turned to the young woman. “I’m sorry that Jathan forgot an introduction.” She winked. “I’m Sarah, and I’m guessing yer related, because I see a hint of dimples on yer face too.”
“
Ja
, I’m his niece Catherine. I’ll be yer dishwasher.”
“Dishwasher? Jathan, are you sure? That’s taking away half my job —”
He laughed. “
Ach
, which means more time for cupcakes … if our town can handle such a thing.” He nodded to his niece. “Sorry I forgot the introduction. Catherine is my brother Otto’s oldest girl.”
“Girl? She’s a woman yet.” Sarah pointed to the pile of dishes in the sink. “And that’s a woman’s work fer sure.”
Catherine smiled and stood straighter. In a way, she reminded Sarah of her friend Jenny, and she liked her immediately.
“
Gut
, keep Catherine busy. And speaking of busy, do you mind if I take away
Mem
and Aunt Kay for just fifteen minutes? Mr. Bell at the print shop wants to talk to them both about writing a cookbook.”
Hearing their names, the older women hurried into the kitchen.
“A cookbook? Did I overhear that?” Aunt Kay pressed a hand to her chest. “Aren’t we getting fancy now?”
“Not fancy, jest smart. Baked goods you produce every day, but a book is written once and sold over and over.”
“But if we give out our recipes, won’t people stop coming?” Aunt Kay asked.
“Jest the opposite. They’ll hear about you, want to meet you, and come from farther away, don’t you think, Sarah?”
“Oh,
ja
. I love the idea.” She did love the idea, but she couldn’t help but think about Patty’s cookbook. She’d tucked it away in her trunk back in Montana. “A cookbook is a treasure
… and I’d be happy to watch over the store. Catherine’s here too, of course.”
“Fine then.” Jathan led the older women to the back door. “We’ll head to the printer and you get more cupcakes out, Sarah Shelter.” Her name rolled off his tongue as if he’d said it a hundred times. “And be thinking about yer own recipes too. I have a feeling they’re going to be some of our most popular items.”
Jathan and the older women hadn’t been gone more than five minutes when the front door opened and a woman who looked to be Sarah’s age entered. The woman was a dark-haired beauty with skin as perfectly flawless as a white pearl. She wore Amish dress and
kapp
but carried herself like a queen. Not that Sarah’d ever seen a queen, but the woman walked as Sarah expected a queen to walk.
Instead of gazing at the items in the display case, as most customers did, the woman focused on Sarah. She cocked one eyebrow and moved her gaze over Sarah’s dress and
kapp
. Sarah couldn’t help but touch her
kapp
in response, certain it was askew from the look the woman gave her.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Anna.” She stretched out her hand. “I have heard yer in town. Heard yer a friend of Jathan’s.”
“Ja.”
Sarah’s skin felt pricked by a thousand pine needles. “We met in Montana.”
“I heard that too.” Anna glanced at the display case and then tossed her head as if bothered by the presence of the bakery items. “Is Jathan here?” She peeked behind Sarah to the kitchen.
“Uh,
ne
. He’s … gone. Can I give him a message?”
Anna nodded. “I’m certain he stopped by my place, but I’ve been out of town. My sister had twins just two weeks ago. A boy and a girl. The most beautiful
kinner
I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Sarah nodded, believing that. “So have you known Jathan long?” She forced a smile, reminding herself she planned on being in this community a while. Reminding herself to be polite.
“Know him? Is that what you asked?” Anna placed a hand on her dress collar. “Didn’t you know? Jathan and I have been planning on marrying fer as long as I can remember. But we put off our decision fer a year — with him going to Montana to hunt and all.” Anna’s eyes shimmered.
Sarah stood there for a long moment. Her knees trembled and a sharp pain landed between her shoulder blades. “
ne
. I didn’t know.” She tried to sound casual, but her hands reached for the cleaning rag behind the counter and proceeded to wipe down the already-clean surface. Anna took a step closer to the counter, but Sarah found herself hesitant to look at her, lest Anna see the pain in her eyes.
“
Ja
, well, no one really knows these things — not until the invitations are sent — but one can guess, can’t they? If you look in our garden, you’ll see my
Mem
has already planted the celery — hundreds of stalks. Their green leaves have jest begun pushing up from the ground, but I can already imagine what they’ll look like by fall.”
While the custom wasn’t done in Montana, Sarah remembered the tradition from growing up in Kentucky. Brides used stalks of celery to decorate the tables at their wedding dinner and observant folks always knew who would be marrying next just by glancing at their neighbors’ gardens.
“
Ja
, well, I’ll tell him you stopped by. I’m sure he’ll be
happy to see yer in town. He shouldn’t be gone long.” An image flashed in Sarah’s mind of Jathan and this woman sitting side by side on a front porch swing, similar to the one at Aunt Lynette’s house. Jealousy caused her neck to grow warm. Anger tightened her shoulders. Why hadn’t he told her? She’d even asked him if there was someone special back in the West Kootenai. He’d denied it, but this woman seemed very real.
“
Danki
, I’m looking forward to seeing him.” Anna offered a soft smile. “Yer baked goods do look nice, but I like to bake myself.” And with a wave she turned to the door. “Have a nice day …”
A nice day?
Sarah moved toward the cash register and sank down onto the stool behind it. An ache pounded at her temples.
What am I doing here?
Had she been a fool for coming so far hoping for a relationship with someone she hardly knew?
Ja
, a fool indeed.
I
t was Jathan’s footsteps that approached the bakery’s kitchen. Sarah could tell from his quickened, eager steps on the wood floor. The other women had gone home, though Catherine was still outside shaking out the rugs and sweeping the porches. Sarah didn’t turn. Refused to turn to see his smile. To do so would only bring her pain. Instead she hurried toward the sink. Dishes had piled up.
Sarah knew she could head home, but her arms seemed too weary to pull off her apron. Her feet too weary to walk the distance home. Maybe it was her heart that was too heavy. Too heavy to be carried by her trembling legs. Instead she ran hot water for the dishes, adding in a stream of dish soap.
“Sarah, what are you doing? Leave those dishes there. That’s what my niece is for.”
Sarah wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, hoping no tears had broken forth. She sucked in a deep breath and forced a smile.
I shouldn’t have assumed so much. I should have asked more questions. I should have known a man like Jathan would have attachments in Holmes County
.
“
Ach, ne
. I am
gut
.” She cast a forced smile his way, hoping it was convincing. “I enjoy dishes, really I do. In fact,
Mem
always said a woman should never say she has no quiet time to talk to God. She can always get some time alone by doing the dishes.”
Jathan chuckled and the sight of the brightness of his eyes lightened her heart.
Stop it. Stop caring fer him so
, she urged herself. She had no right. No right at all.
He moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She knew he wanted her to turn. She was afraid to. Afraid to look into his face.
Her mind tried to think back, searching for any memory of words of affection toward her. It was clear he was glad she was here. He always seemed eager to see her, yet how serious could he be if he hadn’t mentioned Anna at all?
Did he still plan on marrying Anna? Even if he didn’t, shouldn’t he have mentioned her to Sarah? And why had he left Anna hanging like that? Maybe Sarah didn’t know Jathan as well as she thought. In fact, what
did
she know about him?
What did she
really
know about him?
Jathan dropped his hands. “
Ja
, well, you may like washing dishes, but yer aunt invited me over for dinner tonight. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind?” She turned around and dried off her hands. “Why would I mind? I jest feel bad leaving Catherine with so many pans. I had to make yet another batch of cupcakes this afternoon yet.” She glanced up at him and sighed. “I jest hate leaving all these dishes, that’s all.”
Jathan pushed back his chair slightly. He had enjoyed Sarah’s aunt’s meal very much, but ever since he’d found her washing dishes, Sarah had hardly said five sentences to him.
He told himself she was just tired, and he’d turned his attention to enjoying the meal — a pork loin roast, baked potatoes, Jell-O salad, and apple pie for dessert. It reminded him of the meals his mother used to make when all of them were younger. Before most grew up and got married. Before
Dat
got sick.
Spending time with all Sarah’s cousins made him smile too. Three school-age boys, three younger girls, and a baby boy. The laughter around the table caused Jathan’s heart to dance. Seeing it made him think he’d like his own large family someday.
The older boys were sharing a story about their geography lesson. Sarah joined in the conversation, but it was clear something was wrong.
Jathan’s gut tightened with worry. What was the problem? Maybe she was missing her own home and family. Maybe there was too much work at the bakery and she was weary.