An Amish Second Christmas Page 18
Not the response he wanted. Was it bad to moan in order to elicit her guilt? She had practically run him over.
Joy slid the rocker from the corner of the shop, helped him into the chair, then grabbed a wooden bench next to the table and placed it before him.
Noah grimaced as he lifted his leg up on the bench. He didn’t have to fake his reaction. His ankle throbbed.
“You’re in a lot of pain. I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll be okay.” He blew out a breath—exaggerated, but he was desperate.
“Do you need anything? A cup of kaffi? I could have your sister bring out a pillow.”
“I need your forgiveness.” He reached for her hand, but she stepped out of his reach.
“I’ll ask Stella to check on you,” she said, avoiding eye contact. She turned to the door. “Good-bye, Noah.”
The air left Noah’s lungs when the door shut and Joy was gone. His throbbing ankle wasn’t nearly as painful as his broken heart. He should have listened to his inner voice and told her the truth weeks ago. Now he’d lost her forever. Noah closed his eyes.
Deceived and made to look like a fool by Noah, Joy felt like her life had crumbled like a dry piecrust. At least with a bad crust she could add a dash of milk and fix the problem. Her problems were unfixable. Her heart ached for Noah, for the bakery, for her parents. She wasn’t sure how to start over, but working for Mrs. Paddock wasn’t the answer.
She pulled into the bakery and took a few moments to dry her eyes. Both Lois’s and Sarah’s buggies were there as well as the Englischer’s car. Joy straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and marched into the bakery through the back door. The building was cool without the ovens on. Her throat tightened as she looked around the lifeless kitchen. She made her way to the storefront and stood behind the counter one last time. Joy spotted fingerprints on the display cabinet and grabbed the bottle of cleaning solution. She couldn’t let the business change hands with the display smudged. She sprayed the cleaner and for half a second watched the liquid run down the glass. She wasn’t looking through rose-colored glasses now—everything was distorted. “There you are,” Lois said. “Kumm sit with us. We’re going over a few details.”
Joy finished wiping the area, then set the cleaner and rag aside. She nodded at Mrs. Paddock and her assistant as she pulled a chair out from the table and sat between Lois and Sarah.
Joy caught sight of the bakery sign leaning against the wall. Her parents’ dreams—her dreams—now lay in a heap. She pushed back the tears.
“We should have the final paperwork drawn up by next week,” Mrs. Paddock said to Lois. She turned her attention to Joy. “I look forward to you working for me. It should be easier since the line of baked goods will be streamlined and you’ll have less baking.”
“I’ve decided not to accept the job.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Paddock turned to Lois. “This wasn’t what we discussed.”
Lois reached under the table for Joy’s hand. “I thought you wanted to continue working here.”
Joy shook her head.
Mrs. Paddock shifted in her chair. “The offer I made was contingent upon being able to assume the Stolzfus business name and retaining a Stolzfus baker.”
“Who doesn’t need to bake,” Joy added. “That isn’t me. Maybe Lois or Sarah will work for you, but I won’t put my name behind frozen baked goods that are shipped in.” She stood. “I’ll sign whatever paperwork you need me to, Lois, but I won’t be part of this new bakery. I don’t need this storefront to continue selling my baked goods.”
“We can talk about this later at home,” Lois said.
“We need to talk about this now.” Mrs. Paddock adjusted her reading glasses and flipped through her paperwork. “I think you’ll find on page eight a noncompete clause.” She tilted her head to look over her glasses. “Do you understand what that means? You cannot sell baked goods within a ten-mile radius for five years.”
Joy smiled. “Then I’ll sell potholders. I think people will buy a potholder if it comes with a free baked good.”
Mrs. Paddock shuffled her papers. “You don’t own your recipes either.”
“I already have ideas for new ones.” Joy left the table. She refused to be a pushover any longer. Her sisters would have to decide which of them wanted to become Mrs. Paddock’s new baker. She grabbed her apron from the kitchen hook and went outside.
The setting sun cast a warm glow of pinks over the snow. A strange sense of peace washed over her.
Noah limped to the door and met Stella as she was coming inside the house. “Did I get any mail?”
She shook her head. “You’ve asked the last three days. Are you expecting something urgent?”
“Nay, I suppose nett.” He shoved his foot into his boot. The swelling in his ankle had gone down enough that he could finally wear them again. Noah removed his coat from the hook beside the door and hobbled outside. Cooped up in the house for three days, he needed fresh air. He ambled over to his shop, not to work, but to be alone.
Noah noticed the rose-colored glasses he’d given Joy on the table and picked them up. He sure messed things up. An envelope with her writing scrawled on the front caught his eye for the first time. How had he missed it? He tore it open.
Dear Cabinetmaker,
The rose-colored glasses are beautiful, but I’m afraid I cannot accept them. My eyesight is no longer clouded. When you didn’t come to the Second Christmas sleigh ride, I realized God had placed you in my life for a short season—until I could see clearly. You should be happy to know, because of you, I no longer see the world distorted as before. I’ve enjoyed our correspondence and friendship and I thank God for you. I might have married Henry if you hadn’t written me back and said all those things.
Sincerely,
Your Pen Pal
Noah folded the letter as Stella entered the shop. “I hitched your buggy for you,” she said.
“Why?”
She planted her hand on her hip. “Can you really let someone you love go?”
“I’ve always believed that if it’s meant to be—”
“If you’re going to listen to that foolish advice, then Ruby’s the maydel for you. You let her go and she returned, right?”
“Stella, I told you before—”
“I know you’re nett in love with Ruby. But you are in love with the woman from the bakery. The one you made the glasses for.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
“I hitched the buggy for you. You have ten miles to figure out what you’re going to say to her.”
Could he risk rejection—again?
Mrs. Paddock sat at Lois and Matthew’s kitchen table, pen and contract in hand, along with a plate of Joy’s peppermint cookies positioned before her. “Have you given any more thought to working for me, Joy?”
“I haven’t changed my mind.” Joy lowered her head. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Matthew or see the disappointment in her sister’s eyes.
“I came prepared with a cashier’s check,” Mrs. Paddock told Matthew. “But under the current conditions . . .”
“We understand your reservation,” Matthew said. “And we’re having second thoughts as well.”
Joy stared at her brother-in-law in disbelief. The topic of selling the bakery was hardly mentioned over the last three days.
Matthew continued. “I think it’s in both of our interests to not go through with the sale.”
Mrs. Paddock stared at him a moment, then gathered the contract off the table. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” she said, tucking the papers into her briefcase. Mrs. Paddock stood and Matthew walked her to the door.
Joy leaned closer to Lois. “What just happened?”
Lois smiled. “We agreed with you. Mrs. Paddock wanted to make too many changes.” She wiped her eyes with a hankie. “It didn’t hit me until I saw the bakery sign leaning against the wall.”
Joy’s eyes welled. “Has Matthew kumm up with a
way for us to keep it?”
“We’ll have to trust God for either the financial means or the right buyer.”
“With nay clauses forbidding me to bake.” Joy removed a cookie from the plate and took a bite. She’d released the bakery into God’s hands and He’d prevented the sale. If only she could release her feelings for Noah as easily.
Several minutes passed before Matthew returned to the kitchen. When Joy looked up, her eyes connected with Noah’s.
“Hiya.” Noah wiped his hands on the sides of his pants.
Joy blinked several times.
Lois nudged her arm. “Joy, you have a visitor.”
“Wh-what are you doing here?”
Noah gulped. “I, ah . . . I was hoping we could talk.” He motioned to the door. “Outside?”
“Okay.” She stood and swept her hand over the wrinkles in her dress. “I need to get mei cloak,” she said without looking him in the eye. She grabbed her cloak from the wall hook and followed him.
“I thought we could go on a sleigh ride.” He motioned to his buggy.
She hesitated. “Noah, I don’t think—”
“Please.” He smiled.
Joy looked down.
“A short ride.” He needed to talk with her. God hadn’t made a mistake when her package was delivered to him.
Joy climbed into the buggy.
Noah hurried and untied the reins, then climbed onto the bench. Sitting this close, a sweet scent of peppermint filled his senses. He tapped the reins before she changed her mind about going.
Pulling onto the main road, the buggy’s blade runners scraped the pavement until he turned down the first snow-covered trail.
“Are you warm?” he asked.
“Jah, I’m fine. How’s your ankle?”
“This is the first day the swelling went down enough to put my boot on.”
“I feel awful. Are you still in pain?”
“Nay, nett anymore.” At least not his ankle. His heart was another matter. Silence fell between them. Noah focused on the white puffs of air lingering around the horse’s head as his thoughts went a million directions. Anxiety was boring a hole through his stomach; he had to find a place to stop. At the first narrow path wide enough for a sleigh, he stopped Cracker.
“I brought some hot cocoa.” Noah reached behind the seat for the thermos. He poured a mug of steaming hot chocolate and handed it to her, then poured another mug for himself.
“Danki.” She sipped the drink, leaving a film of milk chocolate on her upper lip.
He smiled.
“What?”
He gently wiped the chocolate off with his thumb. Her eyes widened and he jerked his hand back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken the liberty.” She blushed.
Noah shifted on his seat so that he faced her. “I tried to tell you I was your pen pal the nacht of the Christmas gathering.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I lost mei nerve. I thought if you knew I was the cabinetmaker, you would stop talking to me—like you stopped writing.” He paused. Say you understand . . . “I read the letter you left with the glasses in mei shop. It said you were following mei advice and letting me go.”
She nodded. “Mei feelings were torn between two men.”
His heart twisted. “Henry and who?”
Joy shook her head. “The cabinetmaker . . . and you.” Her eyes welled with moisture.
She blinked and tears rolled down her face. He set his mug on the floorboard of the buggy, then lifted his hand to her face and dried her tears. Their gazes locked. He leaned closer—slowly—giving her a chance to resist. But overtaken by the powerful scent of cocoa and peppermint, he lowered his lips to hers, taking possession of her soft, sweet lips in a consuming way. He slipped his hand behind her shoulder and pressed her closer, deepening his kiss.
Her mug of hot chocolate tipped in her hand and hot liquid soaked into his pant leg. He broke from the embrace long enough to set her mug on the floor, then he took her back into his arms and kissed her with even more boldness.
She broke from the kiss, breathless. “Noah!”
He leaned back so he could look her in the eye. “I’m sorry. Did I go too far?”
“It won’t work between us,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Jah, it will. I know ten miles seems like a long ways, but—”
She scooted closer to the door. “I stopped writing because of what you said about Ruby. You didn’t want her to become a seamstress—just like Henry didn’t want me to work at the bakery.”
Noah shook his head. “It wasn’t because Ruby wanted to work. She allowed the world to persuade her to leave the faith. She wanted the Englisch lifestyle—not our way.” He brushed his hand against her wet face. “You’re nett thinking about becoming a fancy baker and leaving for the Englisch world, are you?”
“Nay, of course nett.”
“Gut.” He inched closer. “Because I didn’t just fall in love with your peppermint cookies, I fell in love with you.” He leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead. “Mei pen pal.”
Joy sighed. “In your letter it didn’t sound like you loved mei cookies. You said I put too much peppermint in them.”
He grinned. “Do you forgive me?”
“That depends.” She smiled. “Are you still going to be mei pen pal?”
“Jah. Are you going to keep making me cookies?”
“Hmm . . .”
Noah pulled her into his arms. He trailed kisses from the tip of her nose, across her cheek, and over to her earlobe. “I have a new cookie idea,” he whispered in her ear.
She giggled. “Oh jah?”
“Cocoa”—he trailed kisses along her jaw to her lips—“and peppermint. They taste gut together.”
“I’ll have to mix up a batch.” She nestled into his embrace as large snowflakes fluttered to the ground.
“Joy,” he whispered.
She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes.
“Didn’t your daed propose to your mamm on a sleigh ride?”
“Jah.” Her voice quivered.
“I’m in love with you . . . and—”
She sat up straighter. “Are you proposing?”
Noah winked. “You’ll have to watch your mail.”
READING GROUP GUIDE
1. Joy is so excited about the Second Christmas sleigh ride that she begins planning what refreshments she will serve in October. Do you have Christmas traditions that you look forward to every year?
2. Joy’s sister accused Joy of coveting the bakery since their parents’ death. Can you see how easily it could happen? Have you found that you’ve been guilty of coveting something in your life?
3. Could you relate to Joy’s pain when the soon-to-be new owner wanted to change the bakery? Did she make the right decision when she refused to take the job?
4. Noah struggled with telling Joy he was her secret pen pal because he had been hurt in a past relationship. Was his failure to tell her who he was the same as lying? Would you be able to forgive someone as Joy was able to forgive Noah?
5. Joy was upset when she found out that the new owner planned to bring in frozen products and wanted to modernize the bakery while at the same time use the family name. Was there ever a time in your life when you felt as though you were expected to conform to an idea or practice you didn’t believe in?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Without my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, my thoughts would be paralyzed—so to Him I give the highest praise!
To my agent, Mary Sue Seymour, and my editors, Becky Philpott and Natalie Hanemann, you are all so wonderful and supportive. Thank you for believing in me.
To the team at HarperCollins Christian Publishing, your dedication is truly amazing! Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to fulfill my dreams.
To my husband, Dan, and my children, Lexie, Danny, and Sarah, your support and encouragement are such a blessing! I love you all so much.
To my critique par
tners and brainstorm buddies (you know who you are), I am so honored to have you as friends and prayer partners. My virtual sisters, your help is more valuable than words can express.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author photo by Lexie Reid
Ruth Reid is a full-time pharmacist who lives in Florida with her husband and three children. When attending Ferris State University School of Pharmacy in Big Rapids, Michigan, she lived on the outskirts of an Amish community and had several occasions to visit the Amish farms. Her interest grew into love as she saw the beauty in living a simple life.
A Gift for Anne Marie
KATHLEEN FULLER
To Zoie, my writer-in-training. I love you!
GLOSSARY
ab im kopp: out of the head
ach: oh
aenti: aunt
appeditlich: delicious
boppli: baby
bruder: brother
buwe: boys
daag: day
daed: dad
danki: thanks
dochder: daughter
familye: family
frau: wife
geh: go
grossmutter: grandmother
grossvatter: grandfather
gut: good
gut nacht: good night
hallo: hello
haus: house
kaffee: coffee
kapp: head covering
kinn: child
kinner: children
maed: girls
maedel: girl
mamm: mom
mann: man
mei: my
mudder: mother
nee: no
nix: nothing
onkel: uncle
perfekt: perfect
schee: pretty
schwester: sister
sehr: very
sohn: son
ya: yes
yer: your
CHAPTER ONE
PARADISE, PENNSYLVANIA
Anne Marie Smucker pulled back the light-blue curtains and peered outside into the darkness. On her rural street, the only available light was the tall streetlamp a few houses down. She tapped her fingers against the window frame and squinted. Where is he? Her best friend Nathaniel was never late for game night.