Loaves of Love Read online

  Copyright

  ZONDERVAN

  Loaves of Love

  Copyright © 2019 by Elizabeth Wiseman Mackey

  Requests for information should be addressed to:

  Zondervan, 3900 Sparks Dr. SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546

  ISBN: 978-0-310-35283-9 (e-book)

  Epub Edition September 2019 9780310352839

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication

  CIP data is available upon request.

  Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

  Any Internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by Zondervan, nor does Zondervan vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of this book.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America

  19 20 21 22 23 / LSC / 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  To Daddy

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Glossary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Discussion Questions

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  GLOSSARY

  ab im kopp: addled in the head

  ach: oh

  aenti: aunt

  appeditlich: delicious

  boppli: baby

  bruders: brothers

  bu: boy

  daadi: grandfather

  daed/dat: dad

  danki: thank you

  dawdy haus/ daadi haus: grandparents’ house

  Deitsch: Dutch

  dochder: daughter

  dummkopf: foolish person

  Englisch/Englischer: English or Non-Amish

  fraa: wife

  Frehlicher Grischtdaag!: Merry Christmas!

  freind: friend

  freinden: friends

  froh: happy

  gegisch: silly

  geh: go

  gern gschehne: you’re welcome

  Gmay: church district

  Gott: God

  groossmammi: grandma

  gude mariye: good morning

  gut: good

  gut nacht/gute nacht: Good night

  haus: house

  hund: dog

  Ich liebe dich: I love you

  jah: yes

  kaffee/kaffi: coffee

  kapp: prayer cap or head covering worn by Amish women

  kichli: cookie

  kichlin: cookies

  kinn: child

  kinner: children

  krank: ill

  kuchen: cakes

  liewe: love, a term of endearment

  maed: young women, girls

  maedel: young woman

  mamm/mudder/mutter: mom

  mammi: grandmother

  mann: husband

  mei: my

  nee: no

  nix: nothing

  onkel: uncle

  Ordnung: written and unwritten rules in an Amish district

  rumspringa/rumschpringe: period of running around

  schee: pretty

  schtupp: family room

  schweschder: sister

  schweschders: sisters

  sohn/suh: son

  vatter: father

  Was iss letz?: What’s wrong?

  Wie bischt: How are you?

  Wie geht’s: How do you do? or Good day!

  wunderbaar: wonderful

  ya: yes

  yer: your

  yerself: yourself

  *The German dialect spoken by the Amish is not a written language and varies depending on the location and origin of the settlement. These spellings are approximations. Most Amish children learn English after they start school. They also learn high German, which is used in their Sunday services.

  1

  KATIE SWARTZENTRUBER SMILED AS SEVERAL ENGLISCH women browsed the various pies, loaves of bread, and cinnamon rolls she baked this morning. She’d topped the oval table with a freshly pressed white cloth, then carefully arranged the baked goods for sale.

  Even though pride was frowned upon, Katie swelled with satisfaction over her accomplishments. She’d worked alongside her mother at their bakery for as long as she could remember, but this was the first day she had prepared everything on her own.

  Her mother had surgery three days ago, and they’d made arrangements in advance for someone to help Katie. The hysterectomy and her mother’s recovery went as planned. The procedure was necessary because of some tumors growing in her uterus. After returning to work yesterday, complications arose when she got a nasty infection at the incision site. It weakened her mother so much that the doctor insisted she stop working and rest to give herself time to heal, which he warned might not happen until after Christmas.

  This meant Katie would be in charge of the shop—doing all the regular baking, taking orders, and filling them—during their busiest time of year. Help was hard to find during the holidays, especially on such short notice. Katie had to convince her parents not to close, because she could run the bakery on her own. The first day had gone off without a hitch so far, but it was only eleven. She’d started at four o’clock, an hour earlier than she and her mother usually arrived, and she’d managed to open at the regular time, eight o’clock. There had been a few customers, and when her stomach began to growl, she looked at the clock on the wall and sighed, knowing she would have to cancel her lunch plans.

  In a family of eight, Katie was the only girl. Three of her brothers were still in school, and the two older ones tended the land and worked construction part-time. They would be no help in the kitchen at home or here at the bakery, so the task was Katie’s to fulfill.

  “There are no better pies anywhere in the area,” one of the older women whispered to her friend. “The fried raisin pie is my favorite, but you can’t go wrong with apple or peach either. I usually get raisin for me and apple for Pete.”

  The individually wrapped fried pies were the biggest sellers, and some of the locals came every Saturday just for them. Tourists frequented her family’s bakery, too, even though they were located in a remote area near Orleans. Word of mouth had spread, and folks often pointed visitors their way.

  Katie opened the firebox a little to add warmth to the room since she didn’t have to worry about maintaining the oven temperature right now. She would see how the morning fared before she baked anything else. Hopefully the weather wouldn’t keep folks away. The snow was heavier than normal for this time of year, and even more had accumulated overnight. Thanksgiving was in three days, and business usually came with a big boom during this week. Sales would increase and remain strong through Christmas.
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  One of the ladies picked up a loaf of bread enclosed in plastic wrap, adding to the two fried pies she carried, then she joined her friend at another table against the far wall. They thumbed through crocheted pot holders, baby bibs, and other items for sale.

  “Hon, did you make all of these?” The taller woman, whom Katie had seen before, lifted a green-and-white checked pot holder.

  “Mei mamm and I made everything on the table.” She smiled at the customer, eager to see how much the women would buy.

  Katie’s parents were skeptical that she could run the bakery by herself, but she’d assured them she could. An increase in sales would further prove that she was capable and could handle the workload.

  As she waited for the women to make their selections, Henry Hershberger pulled up in his buggy. Through the window, she watched him tether his horse. His straw hat had been replaced with a black knitted cap, and he wore a big black coat. She could see his teeth chattering and wondered what brought him out in this weather. He may have a battery-operated heater in his buggy, but it was still too cold to be out. Even though Henry had practically grown up in the bakery, he seldom stopped in these days. He had a full-time job at the hardware store that also required him to work on the weekends sometimes. She was surprised he picked such a blustery day to visit.

  Katie had known Henry since they were born. They had the same birthday and just turned twenty-one on August 17. Their families had always been close, and Katie helped Henry learn Englisch when they started school. He’d had a hard time transitioning from Pennsylvania Deitsch to Englisch, especially when they started learning to read and write.

  Henry was shy too. Even as a child, Katie never understood why. He was the cutest boy in school, and she was happy to spend her free time with him—and not just because of his mesmerizing blue-gray eyes and nice smile. Henry was kind and generous, especially to Katie. He carried her books when they walked to school together, and he always traded lunches with her when her mother sent something she didn’t care for.

  From the time they were children, Katie had thought their friendship would blossom into something more. She’d wanted him to ask her to a Sunday singing since they became teenagers, but he never had. Despite her attempts to flirt with him, Henry must not want to be anything more than friends, or so she was left to assume.

  They were adults now, but Katie’s heart still skipped a beat every time she saw him. The cute boy had grown into a handsome man. He was taller than most men, and his massive shoulders filled the heavy coat he was wearing. He had dark hair, and his eyes changed colors with the seasons. This time of year, they would be a bluish gray. In the spring, when the sun was full, they would brighten to more of a Nordic blue.

  Katie and Henry had dated other people within their district and remained friends. With each person Katie dated, she hoped it would quell the affection she felt for Henry. Then maybe it wouldn’t sting so much every time she heard he was seeing someone new.

  Henry brushed snow off himself under the awning outside the bakery. He’d made up his mind a couple weeks ago that he was going to ask Katie out on a date. Henry had dated on and off, and he’d even taken a woman to supper recently, but he continued to compare anyone he dated to Katie. He had to know, once and for all, if she harbored any feelings for him beyond friendship. Over the last two weeks, every time he headed to the bakery he lost his nerve and kept the horse going.

  When they were kids, he and Katie did things together all the time, but when Katie grew into the prettiest teenager—and now woman—in their district, Henry had put some distance between them. She could have her pick of any eligible man in their community. Somewhere along the line, he’d become nervous and insecure around her. Today he was going to push past his fear and finally ask her out.

  He took a deep breath, pulled off his black beanie, and walked into the bakery. Katie was accepting money from two older ladies, so Henry pulled off his gloves and began eyeing the items on the table. His mouth watered as he breathed in the aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries.

  “What a nice surprise to see you, Henry,” Katie said after the two women left. Then she stepped from behind the counter and smiled that same smile that won him over years ago. As she walked toward him, he was pretty sure she batted her eyes at him. Or maybe he read too much into it. Either way, he felt the familiar nervousness building, and he was determined not to let it get the best of him.

  Henry saw Katie every two weeks at worship service, but he stayed with the other men while the women prepared the meal. There wasn’t time to do more than greet each other in passing. Although, he’d been tempted more than once to pull her aside and invite her to go out with him.

  “It’s nice to see you too.” He continued looking at the baked goods, buying some time as she walked to where he was standing. He’d planned out exactly what he wanted to say, but now that he was here, his mind was hazy.

  “You can have whatever you like.” Katie nodded at the table of goodies.

  He shook his head. “Nee, I’ll pay.” He wanted to tell her that she looked pretty, that her dark-green dresses brought out the color of her eyes. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket and found three dollars.

  Katie brushed flour off her black apron. “You know if Mamm were here, she would never let you pay.”

  Henry knew she was right. He went through this drill with Katie’s mother every time he visited the bakery over the years. Marie Swartzentruber always won the argument.

  Katie smiled as she swiped at a loose strand of sandy-blonde hair that had fallen from her kapp. She was tall for a woman, which was another thing he liked about her. If Henry had to guess, he’d say she was close to six feet. He was six feet, five inches tall. Some of the women he’d dated didn’t even reach his shoulder, which wasn’t enough to rule out a relationship. It just hadn’t worked out. Katie’s height was a bonus in a perfect package that owned Henry’s heart. If she declined his offer to go out, he would have to do his best to open his heart to someone else.

  He held the money out to her, the same way he always did with her mother. “Take it. Your folks are counting on you to keep things afloat. You can’t be giving away food.”

  “I’m not giving it to anyone but you.” She stuffed her hands in her apron pockets, and Henry shrugged as he put the money back in his wallet.

  “Ach, okay.” He grabbed a fried peach pie. He wanted raisin, but there was only one left and he knew how popular they were with the tourists.

  “Is that all you want, one pie? It’s awfully cold outside to make a trip for one small pie.” She raised an eyebrow and grinned. Henry wasn’t sure if she was being friendly or flirting.

  “It’s not just any pie. You and your mamm make the best pastries, so it’s worth the trip.” He pulled back the plastic wrap and took a bite, savoring the flavor, as a new customer walked inside. Henry wanted to kick himself. He’d had less than a minute alone with Katie, and he’d talked about food instead of asking her out.

  “Welcome.” Katie waved an arm toward the two tables. “Thank you for coming. Everything was baked fresh this morning.”

  “This place is hard to find.” The woman’s teeth chattered as she spoke. She wore high-heeled shoes instead of warm boots. Her tan jacket looked more like a fancy accessory than something to keep her warm. And she had no hat.

  “I’m glad you found us.” Katie smiled as she folded her hands in front of her.

  Frowning, the woman pointed a long red fingernail at the table with the breads and pastries. “Is that all you’ve got?”

  “Ya, that’s all I have for right now, but I take orders too.”

  The woman’s expression softened a little as she shook snow from her white hair. Or maybe it was blonde. It didn’t look like a natural color.

  The lady narrowed her sculpted eyebrows into a frown. “Are you the only one working here?”

  “Ya, I am. But I work long hours and can handle a large order. I can bake most anything you might need.�
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  As the woman dug around in her purse, Katie waited patiently.

  “Okay. I have a list.” The woman slipped on a pair of red reading glasses as she studied the piece of paper. “I need two pecan pies, two apple, and a dozen fried pastries, a variety. And three loaves of bread—two sourdough and one white.” She pushed the glasses up on top of her head. “I need to pick it all up by five o’clock tomorrow.” The woman scratched her head, sending more snowflakes to the floor. “Is that where you bake them?” She pointed to the two wood ovens behind Katie. “Won’t they taste smoky?”

  Henry was sure Katie had fielded this question before, but he cleared his throat and waited until the lady looked his way before he spoke. “These are the tastiest fried pies you’ll ever eat, better than the bakeries in town. I reckon part of the reason is because Katie uses wood ovens, not propane like other places. It’s a distinctive flavor, but not smoky at all.”

  The woman turned back to Katie. “Don’t you need to write down my order?”

  “Nee, I’ve got it.” Katie walked to the table, picked up the last raisin pie, and handed it to the lady. “Please, take this and try it.”

  Henry hoped Katie wasn’t going to give away any more food, but the woman was placing a big order.

  “No thanks. I don’t eat sweets. But the herd coming for Thanksgiving will expect pies.” The woman grimaced, then smiled a little for the first time. “I love them all, but they eat a lot.” Shivering, she rubbed her hands together. “This is my first trip to Indiana. My sister relocated here with her family recently and invited everyone for the holidays. I could never live here, though. It’s just too cold.”

  “You get used to it,” Henry said. Southern Indiana enjoyed all four seasons. Even though Henry had never lived anywhere else, he loved that about his home state.

  Katie set the pie back on the table and confirmed the order, promising to have everything ready on time. The lady was out the door again. They watched through the window as the woman stumbled to her car with her arms out to her side. It had to be difficult to keep her balance in the snow while wearing those high-heeled shoes.

  “Can you really do all that by five tomorrow?” Henry rubbed his chin, thinking about all the other pastries she and her mother made daily.