Love’s Journey Home (40 page)

She sat still and imagined Aenti Louise savoring the dirt on the tip of her tongue
and embracing the warm earth in her arms.

A
nnie straightened her apron and smoothed her skirt. For the fourth time, she ran her
fingers over her kapp to make sure it properly covered her hair. She glanced at the
battery-operated clock that hung over the double sink. Any minute Isaac should come
through the bakery door to fetch Mary Elizabeth home. Annie glanced around. Everything
was spotless as usual. She’d finished cleaning up and all the ingredients sat in a
row, waiting for her to return in the morning for another round of baking. She felt
silly. What did she think she was doing, acting like a schoolgirl?

She grabbed the broom and began to sweep with more energy than necessary. It felt
good to be back in her regular routine. Aenti Louise’s funeral had been bittersweet.
She’d lived her life as God intended and she’d been ready to leave this world. That
didn’t mean Annie wouldn’t miss her with every bone in her body. She sighed and swept
harder. Aenti Louise expected her to get on with her life. She would try her hardest
to do as her aunt had asked—no, demanded.

“I think I’ll wait for Isaac outside.” Mary Elizabeth came through the storage room
door, her small lunchbox on one arm. “Surely it’s cooler out there than it is in here.
I feel like I’m melting. Did you turn off the ovens? It feels like it’s four hundred…”

“Nee!” Annie broke in without thinking. If Mary Elizabeth went out, Isaac had no reason
to come in. She couldn’t tell his little sister that. “I mean…did you finish unpacking
the spices and make a list of the things we need to have Mark pick up at the bulk
food store tomorrow?”

“I did. And a list for the dent-a-can store too. All finished.” Mary Elizabeth flapped
her hands in front of her face. “If it gets any hotter, I’m going to run home and
jump in the creek, clothes and all. Won’t that make Daed laugh?”

Annie tried to laugh with the girl, but her mind whirled.
I’m trying to move on, God, really I am, but this isn’t helping
. If Isaac didn’t come into the bakery, she wouldn’t see him. She certainly had no
reason to go into the implement repair store. She glanced around the bakery, not a
tool in sight that needed work.

“See you tomorrow, bright and early.” Mary Elizabeth jerked open the door. Isaac strode
in. The two nearly collided. “Bruder! You nearly knocked me down!”

“Sorry, schweschder.” Isaac laughed, that deep, hoarse laugh that sent a chill up
Annie’s arms. “You’re so short I didn’t see you down there!”

“I’m not short.” Mary Elizabeth’s indignant retort lost its effect when she stumbled
and Isaac had to grab her arm to keep her upright. “It’s hot in here and I’m hungry.
Let’s go.”

“Whoa, hold your horses!” Isaac let go of her arm. His momentum kept him moving in
Annie’s direction. She hung on to the broom, letting it hold her up in case her legs
suddenly gave way. “How was your day, Annie?”

“
Gut
. It was
gut
.” She heard the stutter in her voice and felt her cheeks heat up. Pure silliness.
That’s what Leah would call it. Tomfoolery. She was a grown woman with a child. Not
a schoolgirl with a crush. Next she’d be headed to the singings on Sunday night and
hanging around waiting for him to offer her a ride home. “Busy. We were blessed.”

“Same here. Lots of farmers with things that need fixing. Daed’s happy. And that’s
gut
. Maybe he’ll stop talking about uprooting the family again.” His father’s happiness
seemed to make Isaac happy. Annie found that endearing. He stopped within arm’s reach.
“I’m starving. Abigail didn’t pack enough sandwiches in my bag today. Got anything
left?”

“Anything left? Oh, you mean, any cakes, pies, cookies…” She pointed toward the display
cabinets. While they were a little sparser than earlier in the day, they were by no
means empty, a fact obvious to anyone with seeing eyes.

“Come on, Isaac, I want to get home and help Abigail with supper.” Mary Elizabeth
tapped her foot and yanked open the door. “You know she’s been with the girls alone
all day. She gets pretty worn out, running after them and trying to take care of the
laundry and the cleaning and the garden and the cooking.”

“I know, just give me a minute.” Isaac’s meaningful glance at his sister was not lost
on Annie. She relaxed a little. He looked as nervous as she felt. “Wait in the buggy,
why don’t you? It’ll be cooler out there. I think I felt the tiniest little breeze
when I pulled up in front of the bakery. Or maybe that was you talking!”

“Funny, funny.” Mary Elizabeth frowned. She didn’t move to go through the door. “And
leave you alone with Annie? I don’t think so. Daed wouldn’t…”

“Daed would say courting is private. Daed would tell you to mind your own business.”

“Ah, this is courting business then.” A grin spread over the girl’s face. “I’m so…”

“Mary Elizabeth!”

Still grinning, she waved at Annie and went. The door closed with a ding. Isaac took
a breath. Annie took a breath. She squared her shoulders.

“So.”

“So.”

“We still have lots of apple cookies and the walnut-raisin-oatmeal cookies turned
out really well this time—”

“Annie.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, turning to face him. “Baking is what I know.”

“I made my pitch. Time for you to step up to the plate.”

Baseball had always been Annie’s favorite sport. David had once tossed her a soft
pitch that she had hit all the way to the creek. Everything rode on her response.
The look on Isaac’s face said he had no idea which way she would hit the ball.

“I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“For the next step.” She gripped her hands together to keep them still. “The next
little step.”

“Ah, little step.” He seemed to study the racks of cookies. “Would another attempt
at a buggy ride fall within the boundaries of a little step?”

“It would.” She forced herself to loosen her hands before the flow of blood stopped
circulating. “I’m sure of that.”

“You’re sure?” He looked at her directly then, his brown eyes tender and tentative
at the same time. His voice had dropped until it had that same gruff quality Annie
had heard in Gabriel’s when he talked to his youngest kinner. “You know, yours isn’t
the only heart at risk here.”

“I know.”

“I’ll take two dozen of each.”

“What?”

“Two dozen of the apple and two dozen of the oatmeal.” He lifted his hat and extracted
the money from the band inside it.

Not sure whether they’d made it to the next step or not, Annie took the money he offered,
slipped around the counter, and began loading sacks with the cookies. She peeked at
him from the corner of her eye. He seemed absorbed in studying the cookies.

“Not that one.”

“What?”

“Not the broken one and that one looks a little burnt.”

“I don’t burn my cookies!”

He grinned. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Fine.”

“Fine. I’ll get your change.”

She went to the old cash register David had found at a secondhand store, pulled the
lever, and settled the bills into their slot.

“Keep the change.”

“What?”

“Keep the change.”

“No, I…”

“I’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight?”

He picked up the bags, tossed her a smile that curled her toes, and left.

She sagged against the counter. Why did a small step feel so big?

Gabriel trudged into the kitchen in search of a glass of sweet tea. It had been a
long, hot day. Despite having every window in the shop open, the temperature had risen
higher and higher during the afternoon until the air seemed to sizzle and pop around
him. He felt like a piece of meat roasting in an oven. Cooked too long, he was now
well-done, like a long strap of leather. He strode past Abigail, who was standing
at the stove stirring a pot of navy beans and ham. She looked up and smiled, the picture
of her mother, with damp tendrils of blonde hair escaping her kapp and drops of perspiration
shining on her face. She looked as warm as he felt.

“What I wouldn’t give for a breeze,” she said, jerking her head toward the three open
windows. “All we’re getting are flies and mosquitoes. I can’t keep them off the pies!”

“There are some thunderheads on the horizon, but the Farmer’s Almanac says no rain
for another two weeks. I don’t reckon we’ll get any relief until then.” He pumped
water into the tub and washed his face, cupping his hands and pouring the water over
his head and neck, washing away the sweat and grit of the day. Abigail stood by and
handed him a towel.

“Danki,” he said, with one eye open and water dripping down his face. “I needed that.”

“I’ve been doing that all afternoon.” She turned and poured him a glass of tea from
a pitcher sitting on the counter. “Having the oven on in this heat seems like a silly
thing to do, but the bread has to be baked and I needed cookies for the sack lunches.
I made pies for supper too.”

“Everyone will appreciate that.” He took the glass from her, glad to find pieces of
ice floating in it. After all these years, ice was still a treat. They hadn’t had
ice in their home when he was a child growing up. “Especially the girls.”

The girls in question didn’t look up from the big pan of green beans Abigail had apparently
given them to snap for supper. They were doing more playing than snapping, but it
was a good chore. They couldn’t hurt the beans or themselves. Before Gabriel could
greet them, Isaac burst through the back door, his hands laden with white sacks. He
plopped them on the prep table. Her eyebrows arched, Abigail walked over to peer into
one of the bags. She looked up at her brother, surprise on her freckled face. “That’s
a lot of cookies. Why would you buy cookies? I just made a whole batch of peanut butter
chocolate chip—your favorite.”

“Cookies, cookies,” Isabelle piped up.

Rachel immediately joined in the chorus. “Want cookies!”

“Not until after supper.” Abigail sounded so like Laura, Gabriel winced. She crossed
her arms. “Don’t you like my cookies, Isaac?”

“I like your cookies a lot.”

“He’s sweet on Annie Plank,” Mary Elizabeth interrupted with a chortle as she trotted
in behind him. “Our bruder is in lieb.”

“That would not be any of your business.”

With that curt statement, Isaac stalked from the kitchen. Gabriel looked at Abigail.
She shrugged and went back to chopping up bacon and throwing it into a frying pan.
Acting as if she hadn’t heard Isaac, Mary Elizabeth chattered on about someone who’d
come into the bakery that day to order two enormous cakes for a wedding.

Perplexed, Gabriel inhaled the mouthwatering aroma of frying bacon, left them to their
chatter, and went in search of Isaac. All he wanted to do was eat his supper in peace
and do his chores. He was exhausted and his day was far from over. Like it or not,
he also had the chore of being a daed to all these kinner. Straightening his spine,
he glanced into the room that served as both dining room and living room, with a long
table situated by the windows and five chairs on each side. Isaac sat at the table
reading last week’s copy of
The Budget
, an intent look on his face as if the information contained in the newspaper were
being committed to memory.

“What was that all about?”

Isaac looked up, a picture of innocence. “What was what all about?”

“Snapping at your sister. She was just being silly.” He didn’t say it aloud, but it
was good to see the girls act silly. Act normal. Like the dark cloud of their mother’s
death had finally lifted. “They’re just being girls.”

“I know.” Isaac dropped the newspaper onto the table. “Can I ask you something?”

“Jah.” Gabriel eased onto the chair across from Isaac. His son’s expression put him
on guard immediately. It had been a long day, and he wasn’t sure if he was up to a
heart-to-heart. He hated heart-to-heart discussions. But to whom else could Isaac
talk, now that Daniel had fled? “You can always talk to me.”