Patricia Davids - An Unexpected Amish Romance

“Danki.”

“I hate to admit it, but I’m not much of a cook. I’d rather be taking care of the horses outside instead of doing anything inside.”

“Baking is a pleasure, not a chore. I love finding ways to improve on things I’ve made or try out ways to add different flavors and textures to breads and cakes.”

“My mother always told me that the way to man’s heart is through his stomach. At least that is how she claims she won my father over.”

Helen stared out the window where Mark had climbed out onto the mass of debris to loop a rope around a tangled root mass. Two men in a small rowboat on the river surveyed the mass and called out directions. Mark moved confidently, but it looked like dangerous work. She waited until he was safely back on the bank. “I’m not looking for a way to his heart, only a way to apologize.”

“For a plateful of these, I’d forgive you just about anything.”

“Even a dog-assisted tumble into a puddle?”

“Ja.” Fannie nodded as she licked some of the filling from her fingers. Helen prayed Fannie was right.

“Then I’ll set aside a half dozen and brace myself to grovel with them later if I have to.” If she found work with someone before the men came in to eat, she might be spared the pain.

As it turned out, she came up empty while getting to know many of Charlotte’s friends and the likable young women of the Bowman family. Clyde had been turned over to some of the children who were wearing him out with a game of fetch. Juliet was occupied with getting a grape from Charlotte, carrying it down to the river to wash and then eat it before racing up the hill to beg for another.

When the men came in, Mark took a seat beside Isaac without so much as a glance in Helen’s direction. Before the meal was served, everyone bowed their heads for silent grace. After that, she kept a close eye on the men and noticed Mark took three of her ham and cheese–filled crescent rolls and managed to snag the last of her cream horns when the plate was passed. When he licked a smear of filling from his fingers, she knew he liked them. She’d been smart to keep some back.

She rushed to the house and took the half-dozen pastries outside as she rehearsed her apology. To her chagrin, Mark was already on his way back to the river. She hurried after him and called out, “Mark Bowman, may I speak to you for a moment?”

He stopped and looked back. She saw the indecision cross his face, but he nodded. “I reckon.”

Smile. Don’t look intimidated.

“I’ve brought some of my cream horns as a peace offering.” She lifted the plate just as her foot encountered Juliet racing past. The outraged raccoon squealed. Helen hopped over her to keep from tripping. Clyde, who until that instant had been fetching a ball for one of the children, leaped on Helen from behind, knocking her forward. She plowed into Mark as he tried to catch her. Horrified, she looked down at the plate of pastry sandwiched between them and then back to his darkening brow. Clyde danced around them, barking excitedly.

“What was it that you wanted?” Mark asked in a cold, calm voice as he held her away. The remains of the smashed cream horns covering his shirt began dropping to the ground. Clyde darted in to snatch them up.

“To apologize,” she answered in a small voice. She still had the empty plate in her hands.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name. Who are you?”

“I don’t think I want to tell you.” She began plucking the stuck pieces off his shirt.

He grabbed her hand. “Miss?”

“Zook. Helen Zook. I’m visiting my aunt for the summer, and that’s all I’m going to say about it.” She turned away and walked back to the tables, aware of the snickers of laughter from the onlookers. She passed them with her head down and went to her aunt.

Charlotte was trying to coax Juliet out of the tree next to the house. Juliet hissed when Helen stopped beside Charlotte and went up to the top of the tree. “Aenti, I’m going to walk home.”

“That’s a goot idea, dear. Poor Juliet is very upset with you.”

“I’m afraid she’s not the only one.” Helen didn’t bother looking to see if Mark was still watching her. She could feel his eyes boring into her back.

“I have told Juliet you aren’t staying with us long, but I’m not sure she understands me. She isn’t fond of company.”

“Please tell her I’m sorry I stepped on her.” Helen kept walking and didn’t look back. She guessed her chance of being hired by Mark Bowman was now about zero or less thanks to Clyde. Things could get desperate if her aunt chose her pet’s happiness over her niece and asked Helen to leave.

She wasn’t going home, so where would she go?

* * *

Paul walked up to Mark, swiped his finger through a clump of cream filling and stuck it in his mouth. “She and that dog together are a menace, but you have to admit she makes a fine dessert.”

“Go away.”

Paul held out his finger. “Just one more lick?”

“Paul.” Mark bit out the name with as much threat as he could manage.

“Okay, okay, I’m going. It’s sad to say, because today has been mighty entertaining, but I don’t think we will see much of Helen Zook for a while.”

“I hope not.”

Fannie came down with a wet napkin in her hand. “I thought you might need this.”

He took it and began wiping the front of his shirt. “I’ve never met anyone like that woman.”

“I know. Clyde has taken a shine to her and to you. Isn’t that wunderbarr?”

He looked up in amazement, but Fannie was already heading back up the hill chuckling to herself.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly and uneventfully, for which Mark was grateful. The work was hard, but it was satisfying when the jam finally broke free and washed under the bridge. They had gathered enough wood to keep a good many homes warm during the coming winter.

Exhausted and determined not to think about the outspoken and annoying Helen Zook or the troubling letter from Angela, Mark went up to bed not long after supper. With a cool evening breeze blowing through the open window beside him, he fell sound asleep just minutes after his head hit the pillow.

Until the howling began.

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