Marie E. Bast - The Amish Baker

“I heard you worked hard for Sarah. Are you ready to go home?” Caleb stood and picked up his hat.

Jacob’s eyes sparkled. “ Nein. I’d like to stay and live with Sarah at the bakery and work for her. She asked me to.”

Shocked, Sarah looked at Caleb’s face. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped. She turned her gaze back to Jacob. Had she heard him correctly?

She stood and faced Caleb to explain. But his complexion had turned ashen and his hat slipped from his hands and dropped to the floor.

Still reeling from Jacob’s announcement that he wanted to live with her, Sarah pressed a hand to her chest. Without saying a word, Caleb retrieved his hat from the floor. He straightened and glanced at her, his eyes dewy like the forest during a heavy mist.

The bell jingled as the bakery door pushed open and an elderly couple entered. Hannah rushed to greet the customers, nodding to Sarah and indicating she had this. Sarah blew out a breath. She didn’t want to delay this conversation.

Caleb’s skin above his whiskered cheeks had turned cherry-red. His six-foot stature seemed shorter as his shoulders slumped with the weight of his sohn ’s brutal words. The man’s eyes reflected his world crumbling like a day-old cookie.

Sarah drew a sharp breath and prepared to deal with what she had started. “Let’s sit a minute.”

Since the tables were empty, she motioned toward the corner table so customers wouldn’t overhear their conversation. It also gave her a second longer to decide how to explain this misunderstanding to Caleb. He probably believed she had meddled in his life.

The late-afternoon sun and heat streamed through the window, intensifying her discomfort. She blotted the moisture clinging to her neck with her hand as the guys slid behind the table.

Sarah leaned behind Jacob and pulled the cord on the blind, her mind racing about how to approach the subject. She scooted out the chair directly opposite from Caleb and sat.

How was she going to explain that his sohn would rather work in the bakery than on the farm? Not something an Amish man wanted to hear, or probably any man, if he had his heart set on it. She swiped her palms on her apron as she directed her attention across the table.

Caleb glanced down and raised his forearms to the table with his calloused, weathered-roughened hands outstretched in front of him. He sucked in a loud breath and cut his eyes to his bu .

Jacob sat next to Caleb, acting as if he were unaware of the impact his words had had on his daed . The bu ’s small body scooted up next to the table, with only the tops of his shoulders and head visible above the table.

“Sweetie.” Sarah looked at Jacob and whispered. “When we talked about you working in the bakery, I meant when you had grown and finished school.”

“But you said you worked in your daed ’s bakery every day after school and liked it because you were in a family. I want to be part of a family, too.” His tiny voice started to tremble.

“I’m sorry that you misunderstood.”

Sarah raised her eyes to Caleb, imploring his help. She realized Jacob was desperately seeking what he’d lost, and her heart was breaking for him.

Caleb remained silent. By the pitiful look on his face, it was as if his sohn had asked for a divorce from his family.

* * *

Jacob’s words sliced through Caleb’s heart like a steel blade, then plunged to the very depth of his soul.

A shiver coursed through his body. After Martha’s death, he’d stayed late in the fields and lingered cleaning tools so exhaustion would consume him at bedtime. That helped Caleb deal with the grief. But without giving it a thought, he’d let his kinner struggle with their mamm ’s death on their own. What had he been thinking? Then he’d scolded Jacob when he relaxed by the pond. Instead, he should have taken a few minutes to lie with the bu in the grass.

He reached over, enfolded Jacob’s hand into his and squeezed gently. “Jacob, we can’t ask Sarah to let you live with her. She is busy with her bakery and probably doesn’t have an extra bedroom in her apartment.”

“But, Daed, I could help her and sleep in her bakery.”

“ Nein , that won’t work, Jacob. You can’t sleep in the bakery. When she needs help, I will drive you into town to help her. I know Sarah is your friend and you would like to spend more time with her. What would you say if we invited her out to our farm for dinner next Sunday?”

His face glowed. “ Jah , okay.”

“Sarah. If you are available for dinner, Jacob and I would be honored to drive into Kalona and escort you to our home.”

“ Jah , I would like datt .” She turned toward Jacob. “When I come to your house, I’ll scrub your sink full of pans.”

Jacob laughed. “Okay, but I’ll help you.”

“ Datt sounds gut . Go tell Hannah I said for her to bag some cookies for you to take home.” Jacob ran to the back of the bakery.

“Caleb, I’m so sorry. Jacob and I were having a casual conversation as we worked. I told him about working with my family in the bakery after school. I didn’t realize he took it a different way. What I didn’t tell Jacob was my daed was very strict and my bruder and I worked hard from a very early age. But I liked helping in the bakery and didn’t mind.”

“I understand. Jacob’s mamm died a year ago, and he still misses her. Martha’s death had a devastating impact on the bu , and I failed to notice it. I stay in the fields too late and don’t spend enough time with the kinner . That’ll change.” He stood, retrieved his hat from the peg and nodded to Sarah as he headed for the door.

Jacob dragged his feet as he made his way to the front of the bakery, a smile touching the corners of the bu ’s mouth as he said goodbye to Sarah, but it disappeared and was replaced by a sadness that Caleb worried wouldn’t go away.

* * *

Caleb followed Jacob into the house, hurrying to catch up. For a six-year-old, he could surely outrun his daed .

Jacob held the sack up. “Mary, I have some cookies from the bakery. We can share.”

Mary shrugged at her brother, rolled her eyes, then finished making a pie and placed it in the oven.

“Guess what, Mary? Sarah is coming to dinner next Sunday, and we get to cook for her!”

Mary stopped and glared at Jacob. “Is that so? Am I the one who will be cooking dinner?”

Caleb cleared his throat. “We will all make dinner together for our guest. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”

“You mean your guest.” She shoved the laundry basket of clothes she’d been folding to the corner. Then grabbed the pot holders and pulled the cornbread out of the oven.

The assault of ammonia and floor cleaner tipped Caleb off to how hard Mary had been working since they took off for town. The house was clean, the table set for dinner, and the steamy whiff of ham and candied sweet potatoes smelled gut .

He hadn’t noticed before, but Mary’s feelings were sensitive, too. She’d had a deep attachment to her mamm , and bringing another woman into her home was going to meet with resistance, no doubt.

Mary was a thirteen-year-old going on thirty. She never complained; she just did what had to be done. Caleb moved out of her way as she dished up dinner in silence. He hung his hat on a peg by the door and dragged his hand through his hair to smooth it down. Apparently neither Jacob nor Mary was happy. Their lives had fallen apart since Martha’s death, and it was all his fault.