Christmas at the Amish Bakeshop
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Synopsis
As the most joyful holiday draws near, three couples discover the recipe for love includes faith, hope, and the sweetest blessings . . .
A CHRISTMAS CAKE FOR REBECCA
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Shelley Shepard Gray
When carpenter Aden returns to Lancaster after twenty years away, bakeshop owner Rebecca is dismayed to find he's still as handsome and kind as ever. He broke her heart when he left the community back then. Will a holiday emergency provide a second chance at love, this time forever?
BEST CHRISTMAS PRESENT EVER * USA Today Bestselling AuthorRachel J. Good
When a lonely widower with a sick daughter and a new cake decorator meet at the bakeshop, they discover they were once childhood playmates. But as each of them helps the other care for family, their neighborly kindness inspires a gift that only love could make possible . . .
THE CHRISTMAS CUPCAKE * USA Today Bestselling Author Loree Lough
A builder who never learned to read believes he must hide his fond feelings for a kind schoolteacher. But after they run into each other at the bakeshop, she offers to teach him—and as Christmas approaches, each of them learns a lesson about the great gift of love . . .
A CHRISTMAS CAKE FOR REBECCA
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Shelley Shepard Gray
When carpenter Aden returns to Lancaster after twenty years away, bakeshop owner Rebecca is dismayed to find he's still as handsome and kind as ever. He broke her heart when he left the community back then. Will a holiday emergency provide a second chance at love, this time forever?
BEST CHRISTMAS PRESENT EVER * USA Today Bestselling AuthorRachel J. Good
When a lonely widower with a sick daughter and a new cake decorator meet at the bakeshop, they discover they were once childhood playmates. But as each of them helps the other care for family, their neighborly kindness inspires a gift that only love could make possible . . .
THE CHRISTMAS CUPCAKE * USA Today Bestselling Author Loree Lough
A builder who never learned to read believes he must hide his fond feelings for a kind schoolteacher. But after they run into each other at the bakeshop, she offers to teach him—and as Christmas approaches, each of them learns a lesson about the great gift of love . . .
Release date: September 28, 2021
Publisher: Kensington Books
Print pages: 304
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
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Christmas at the Amish Bakeshop
Shelley Shepard Gray
December 1
At last, December had come. She’d made it to her favorite—and the most hectic—month of the year. Though her mother had always told her to stop wishing away the other eleven months, Rebecca Christner had always felt rather justified about her preference for December.
After all, there were a whole lot of reasons to love the month. First of all, everyone, whether he or she was English, Mennonite, or Amish like herself, seemed to be a little bit happier and kinder. The weather was usually crisp, cold, and snowy—but no one was tired of winter yet. Instead, each glorious pure white snowfall seemed to symbolize hope and fresh beginnings.
Then, of course, there was the obvious reason that December was so wonderful. Christmas—the day of Jesus’s birth. That was a miracle to be feted and celebrated with cards and baked goods and decorations and gift giving. She had never viewed all the busy-ness as anything but a wonderful-gut change from her usual days as the owner of her bakeshop, Rebecca’s Porch.
Unfortunately, this December felt a little different. Suddenly, she felt older, was more aware of her single, never-been-married status than usual, and she was already wondering how she was ever going to make one hundred and fifty special-order Christmas cakes this year.
She couldn’t believe it had happened.
Almost ten years ago, she’d begun offering fancy three-layer Christmas cakes. The dense cakes covered in fluffy white frosting and topped with a poinsettia made from fondant were her pride and joy. Each not only looked pretty but was also made from the best ingredients she could find. The first time Rebecca had offered the special-order cakes, she’d had two-dozen orders.
They’d been such a hit, the amount ordered every year had grown. Four years ago, feeling overwhelmed, she’d placed a limit on the cakes she would make. The number was firmly capped at one hundred.
Unfortunately, one of the new girls at the shop, not realizing how important the reservation sheet was, made her own. By the time Rebecca realized what had been done, an additional fifty cakes had been ordered.
Now Rebecca had more cakes to bake than ever before and even less time to make them. It was enough to keep her up at night.
Hating to be filled with negative thoughts, she shook off her worries and concentrated on the beautiful morning. After all, the Lord never gave more than He could provide.
It truly was a beautiful morning, too. Instead of being below freezing, it was a rather balmy forty-five degrees. Rebecca was in fine spirits as she ventured out on her morning walk with Goldie, her lovely golden retriever.
With each step, Rebecca felt her usual happiness return. By the time she was halfway through her walk, she had smiles for everyone. Even the folks who seemed to be in a perpetual state of gloom and grumpiness all year long.
“Morning, Emmitt.”
“Morning, Miss Rebecca.” The older man nodded, then approached Goldie, who waited patiently for the bow-legged octogenarian to give her his usual morning pet. “Morning, Goldie. You’re looking lovely this morning as always.”
Goldie wagged her tail. For some reason, Goldie was perpetually intrigued by Emmitt’s long gray beard. Her soft brown eyes stared at it with interest when the man reached down to scratch her behind her ears.
“You’re a right gut hund, for sure and for certain,” he murmured before beginning his slow approach back to his house. Goldie wagged her tail in a way that seemed to say she agreed with the statement.
“Have a gut day, Emmitt!” Rebecca called out.
He held a hand up in the air without turning around. “You too, missy. Take care now.”
“You are a really good dog,” she whispered to Goldie as they strode forward, the dog’s paws in sync with her own long stride.
“Hiya, Rebecca. How are you doing this morning?” Bethany asked.
“I’m gut. Danke.”
“Have you and your girls started baking Christmas cookies yet?”
“Not yet, but I was up early making snowballs and pretzels.”
“What about your Christmas cakes? Have you started any of them yet? I put in my order back in September, you know.”
Rebecca smiled. “It’s a bit early to start those cakes. But I’ll begin ordering the ingredients within the week.”
“Glad to hear it. Our family’s Christmas wouldn’t be the same without one of those cakes in the center of my dining room table.”
“Danke. Now, don’t wait until the end of the month to come in. We’ve got some special cinnamon tea brewing and all sorts of other treats. You should stop in.”
“You know I will,” Bethany said with a laugh. “Enjoy your walk, now.”
And so it continued. Rebecca walked three miles every morning. Most of the time with Goldie by her side. It was her favorite time of morning. She’d already prayed, baked for two hours in the shop’s vast kitchen, and now was taking a well-deserved break before slipping on one of her newer dresses and aprons and helping her staff and customers at the bakeshop. It was a busy life but a good one. Rebecca thrived on routine.
When she spotted an unfamiliar man sitting on the stoop of the Stutzmans’ house, she paused. Old Mr. Stutzman was rarely awake this time of morning, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him out to enjoy the day.
And then she got a better look at the man resting on the stoop. Why, it wasn’t Mr. Eli Stutzman at all. Her heart started beating faster as her footsteps slowed. Pressing a hand to the center of her chest, she attempted to pull herself together. Surely her wayward heart and forty-two-year-old eyes were playing tricks on her.
But of course they were not. It was him.
“Hiya, Rebecca,” Aden Raber said easily, just as if he were always sitting on the Stutzmans’ stoop. He wasn’t. He hadn’t been anywhere near her in twenty-five years.
“You’re truly a sight for sore eyes,” he continued with a grin. “Especially since you look as pretty as ever.”
It was all she could do not to glare.
Oh, but he had a lot of nerve to be sitting so calmly! There he was, sipping coffee and looking handsome, fit, and happy. He was smiling at her, too! Just as if he hadn’t broken her heart when she was seventeen.
Though everything in her was crying out to walk right by him without a word, or even turning around, she couldn’t. Greeting him in a civilized manner was the right thing to do.
Besides, Goldie was wagging her tail and pulling Rebecca forward, just as if she couldn’t wait to see the man.
When Aden’s dark brown eyes warmed under his black felt hat, Rebecca realized that he knew he was making her uncomfortable, but instead of attempting to make her feel better, he was merely interested in seeing how she would respond after all this time.
It seemed he hadn’t changed much, even after all this time.
Well, Rebecca could show him that she certainly had. No longer was she the naïve girl who’d fallen so hard for him that it had taken months to regroup after he’d broken her heart.
She was tougher now. Well, at the very least, she was tempered by time, like her favorite baking pans.
“Hello, Aden.”
He got to his feet. “I was hoping I might see you. Eli told me you walked by here every morning.”
Had Aden been waiting out here for her? “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I didn’t know you were in town.” And then, because she was determined to guard her heart no matter what, she blurted, “Why are you here?”
Aden didn’t seem to be offended by her bluntness. Instead, the lines around his eyes deepened as he spoke again. “I should’ve known you’d be the same. Still no beating around the bush for you, hmm?” he said lightly.
His comment was embarrassing. As a child and a teenager, she’d always been too outspoken and blunt. Her mother had constantly admonished her for it, claiming that Rebecca would never find a man until she’d learned to be more circumspect.
“I’m merely curious. Nothing more.” But still she waited.
“I’m only here on a job.” He pointed to the front door. “Eli left after Thanksgiving to spend a month with his daughter and her family in Kentucky. He asked me to do some remodeling work while he was out of the way.”
Years ago, owning his own remodeling business had been Aden’s dream. Even though she’d never wanted to see him again, Rebecca couldn’t deny that she was pleased for him. “You did it,” she said before she reminded herself that she should act a bit more aloof.
Walking closer, she noticed that his stomach was still flat and his biceps had gotten bigger. Shame filled her. How could he still look so good? And, more importantly, why couldn’t she keep herself from noticing?
Smiling at Goldie, who was practically quivering, she was so eager to be petted, Aden said, “Who’s this?”
“My dog. Her name is Goldie.”
His hand still hovered. “May I?”
He was being so kind to dear Goldie, Rebecca thawed a little. “If you don’t pet her soon, I think she’s going to pass out, she’s gotten herself in such a tizzy.”
He complied, stroking Goldie’s neck. The dog closed her eyes in happiness.
Aden laughed. “How old is she?”
“Three. Old enough to stop chewing my shoes but young enough to be good company on my walks.”
“I heard you take a lot of walks, too.”
She straightened. “It sounds like you’ve been asking about me.”
A new wariness entered his expression. “Only the basics,” he said. “I figured that it would be better to know something about you before we met again.”
“May I ask why?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to know how you were.”
His reply was so honest, so free from judgments or anger, she realized that she wanted to know more about him, too. “Ah.”
When she didn’t add anything else, he shifted on his feet. “So, um . . . how have you been?”
“Over the last twenty-five years?” She chuckled. “I guess all told, I’ve been okay.”
“Did you ever marry?”
The way he phrased the question, she knew that he knew she wasn’t married now. “Nee.” She lifted her chin. “I never did. You?”
“Jah. Her name was Anna Mae. She died about three years ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Danke. I’m sorry, too.” Something appeared in his eyes, something that looked almost like regret but she wasn’t sure.
“Did you have children?”
“Jah. Three. All girls.”
Rebecca couldn’t help but smile. Aden was a carpenter, burly, so capable. It amused her to think of him as the lone man in a houseful of girls. “I bet they kept you on your toes.”
“They did at that. The eldest is already married, and both of the others have steady beaus. Now they spend their days keeping their men on their toes.”
“It sounds like you’ve had a good life.”
His smile faltered. “Why did you never marry, Rebecca?”
Though she knew Aden didn’t ask to make her feel bad, she still did.
How could she tell him that she hadn’t ever found a man who compared to him? “I don’t know. I guess the Lord didn’t see fit to send me my match,” she murmured. Though to be sure, that was a lie. He had, indeed, given her a perfect mate. The problem had been that Aden hadn’t felt the same way.
“I’m sorry for that.”
He was sorry? They’d been in love, and he’d left her!
Suddenly, she needed space. It was too hard to stand there with him, thinking about what could have been and what never was. Too hard not to blame him when she’d encouraged him to go in the first place.
Too hard to admit that even though she’d encouraged him to leave, there was a part of her that had always imagined he felt the same way about her that she did about him.
That he would want to rush back to see her because he missed her.
But, of course, that had never happened.
Pasting a smile on her lips, she stepped back a bit. The movement caused Goldie to stand up again. “Well, it’s getting rather chilly out here. I need to start moving and warm myself up.”
“I suppose so. The cold does creep into one’s bones after a time.”
“I need to get ready to open the shop, too.”
“It’s called Rebecca’s Porch, jah?” After she nodded, he said, “Maybe I’ll come in and get coffee or a pastry one day soon. If you don’t mind?”
She appreciated his asking that. Appreciated his acknowledgment that he was on her turf, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. But it was time to let the past go—as well as her hard feelings. “I don’t mind at all, Aden. Come into the shop whenever you would like.”
“I’ll do that then.”
“Which means that we’ll see each other soon.” She inclined her head slightly. “Good day.”
“Jah. Good day to you, Rebecca Christner. And Goldie.”
Goldie wagged her tail, causing them both to chuckle. Then, because there wasn’t anything more to say, Rebecca lifted a hand. A kind of half-hearted wave before turning away.
Though she didn’t look back, Rebecca was fairly sure she could feel his eyes resting on her as she walked down the sidewalk.
Or maybe it was simply hope that he was still thinking about her. If that were the case, then he would finally know how she’d been feeling.
For much, much too long.
Rebecca Christner was still beautiful.
Shaking his head in exasperation at himself, Aden took a sip of coffee, found it lukewarm, and poured the rest of the cup out. He needed to go back inside and continue pulling out old cabinets—John was waiting for him—but he stood there trying to catch one last glimpse of her before she disappeared around the corner.
Craning his neck, he was successful. He saw one final sway of her navy cloak before she disappeared from sight. How could a woman he hadn’t seen in twenty-five years still affect him so?
Because it was Rebecca; that was why.
From the time he’d decided to return to town, Aden had been mentally preparing for their reunion. And, because he couldn’t help it, he’d spent many minutes wondering how the years had treated her. He knew from his own experiences that anything could have happened.
She could have gotten bitter or worn out by life. She could have indulged in so many of her sweets that her appearance would be very different from that of the slim girl he used to know.
But instead, Rebecca still seemed to exude something bright and clean. Honestly, she was like a breath of fresh air. She had a bloom in her cheeks, and a smile for her dog.
“How did it go?” his old friend John asked when Aden went back inside the house. “Did she give you the time of day?”
“She did.” Of course, not much more than that. “Kind of.”
“When are you going to see her again?”
John was far too interested in Aden’s reunion with Rebecca. Worried that somehow his friend would share the news with someone who would promptly pass it on to her, Aden took care to keep his answers low-key. “I’ll probably stop by her bakeshop one day soon.”
But instead of looking disappointed by the casual reply, John grinned. “Will you now?”
His old buddy looked far too entertained. “What does that grin mean?”
“Only that it will be mighty interesting to see you sipping kaffi while sitting at one of the girly tables in Rebecca’s Porch.”
“Girly tables?” Aden rolled his eyes. “You need to advance with the rest of us to the twenty-first century, John. Lots of men drink coffee, and some of them even go into coffee shops to enjoy it.”
“You are right. I canna deny that.”
Pleased that John was taking his point seriously, Aden added, “I know you think I’m exaggerating things, but it’s not just me who thinks this way.” He waved a hand, just as if he got paid to advertise coffee shops. “I mean, think about all the Starbucks around. There are just as many men who frequent them as women. I promise that’s true.”
“Yes, it is. I shouldn’t have joked about Rebecca’s shop.” John looked as if he were going to add something else, but instead picked up his hammer. “Where do you want me, boss?”
“Let’s get back to work on those old cabinets. Grab a crowbar and your gloves. Pulling them all out of here is gonna be a tough job.”
“It is. They’re put on so good, one would think they used Gorilla Glue.”
“Gorilla Glue?” Aden knew all about the stuff, but he was pretty shocked to hear John mention it.
“Just keeping up with the times, Aden. You aren’t the only one of us who’s picked up some new habits over the last twenty-five years.”
Aden would’ve been more inclined to agree if he wasn’t so sure that John was pulling his leg. Deciding to play it safe, he said, “Just get to work, jah? Eli is expecting a transformation in here, and I aim to make sure he receives it.”
“Sure thing.” Picking up the crowbar, John got to work.
Aden let him go back to the kitchen on his own. He needed a moment to think about what had just happened and to plan his next steps.
He’d been hopelessly naïve when he’d pictured his reunion with Rebecca. Though he wasn’t normally the type of man to be foolishly optimistic, he had imagined their first meeting would have gone better. Back in Ohio, after Eli Stutzman had contacted him about doing the remodel job, Aden had weighed the pros and cons for several days.
On the one hand, there would be a good chance he would be gone for all of December and maybe even Christmas. That meant he would be away from his girls for some time. But just as he’d been ready to refuse Eli’s job offer and stay where he was, the girls had reminded him that they’d all made Christmas plans with other people this year. It was Jenna and her husband’s turn to go to his parents, Marta was traveling to Florida to see cousins, and Corrine had promised Anna Mae’s parents that she’d go to their farm. Of course, all three girls had encouraged him to join them, but he’d refused weeks earlier. None of the places had felt like a good fit.
He’d realized that there was nothing keeping him at home . . . but the dream of what could have been was calling him back to Pennsylvania. Especially after his brother Frank assured him that Rebecca still hadn’t married.
Aden was embarrassed to realize that a part of him had thought Rebecca would be so surprised and delighted to see him that she’d be willing to forget how he’d left her with little notice all those years ago.
That she wouldn’t remember all the promises he’d made when they’d been alone, sharing their dreams. All those promises he’d broken.
It had been mighty obvious that she hadn’t forgotten anything. She might be cordial, but she certainly wasn’t going to throw him a welcome-home party.
He needed to back up, rethink things, and come up with a new plan.
Yes, that’s what he needed. A December plan. A way to become involved in her favorite month of the year.
No, he needed to be part of one of her favorite things about her favorite month. He had thirty days to do it.
Already imagining all the moonlit walks, sleigh rides, and other assorted activities they could to do together, he smiled. Yes, that’s what he would do. They’d get reacquainted during her free time. And maybe—just maybe—by January first, she would be anxious to resume a relationship with him again . . . and maybe even consider eventually moving to Ohio.
It made perfect sense to him.
Rebecca still felt shaken up, and she didn’t appreciate the feeling. It was wreaking havoc with her work, too. All morning she’d been absentminded. She’d even caught Miriam and Sarah—two of her best assistants—exchanging looks of alarm.
She didn’t blame them for being confused, either. Miriam had just had to stop her from putting the sour cream pound cake in the oven. It seemed she’d forgotten to add the eggs. Rebecca knew she needed to get back on track and soon, too. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to make a bunch of inedible baked goods. Just thinking about the waste made her shudder.
Unfortunately, neither her coworkers’ confusion nor the fear of wasting food and money helped her get back on track. All she seemed able to do was daydream. Not that she was doing a very good job! So far, she’d revisited the first time Aden had kissed her, the first time they’d gone to a get-together as an official couple, and the way he’d looked at her when she’d knit him a new navy-blue sweater for Christmas.
He’d looked at her like she’d hung the moon.
“Ah, Rebecca?”
Startled from her reverie, she turned to Sarah. “Jah?”
Sarah looked uncomfortable. “Ah, Rebecca, would you like me to finish making that cake for ya?”
“Why do you ask?” Rebecca looked at the mixing bowl. She honestly couldn’t remember what she’d been making.
“Because you’ve put five cups of sugar into the bowl,” Sarah said hesitantly. “That’s too much for even two chocolate cakes.”
Rebecca had been mixing together a chocolate cake? “I’m pretty sure I didn’t put five cups of anything in the mixing bowl, dear.”
“Sarah isn’t wrong,” Miriam said. “I’m afraid we’ve been counting.”
Gazing down into the batter, Rebecca realized that the consistency was off. The color, too. Worse, she had no idea of what amounts she’d put in already.
Rebecca made herself admit that she was doing more harm than good at the moment. “I’m sorry, Sarah. It seems you’re right. I . . . well, I guess my mind has been drifting today.” She forced a laugh that sounded as fake as it felt. “I’m not sure what’s been going on with me.” Picking up the large stainless-steel bowl, Rebecca said, “I’ll get rid of this now.”
“Nee, don’t do that.” Sarah took the bowl away from her. “I can fix it up.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’ll just make three chocolate cakes. No harm there, since they’re such good sellers.”
On another day Rebecca might have argued with Sarah’s suggestion. Chocolate cakes were good sellers, but three extra ones were sure to be difficult to get rid of. However, there was no way Rebecca was going to argue.
“Danke, Sarah,” she told the eighteen-year-old. “Thank you for looking out for me today.” Wiping a hand on her white apron, she shook her head. “I don’t know what’s happened to me this morning.”
“I do,” Miriam said. “I heard you saw your old flame.”
“What?”
Sarah smiled. “Everyone’s been talking about it.”
“I didn’t realize the people I spoke to on my walks were such a point of interest.” Realizing how that sounded, Rebecca cleared her throat. “I mean, if you’re referring to Aden, he’s just an old friend.” An old friend whom she’d once thought she was going to marry. . .
At last, December had come. She’d made it to her favorite—and the most hectic—month of the year. Though her mother had always told her to stop wishing away the other eleven months, Rebecca Christner had always felt rather justified about her preference for December.
After all, there were a whole lot of reasons to love the month. First of all, everyone, whether he or she was English, Mennonite, or Amish like herself, seemed to be a little bit happier and kinder. The weather was usually crisp, cold, and snowy—but no one was tired of winter yet. Instead, each glorious pure white snowfall seemed to symbolize hope and fresh beginnings.
Then, of course, there was the obvious reason that December was so wonderful. Christmas—the day of Jesus’s birth. That was a miracle to be feted and celebrated with cards and baked goods and decorations and gift giving. She had never viewed all the busy-ness as anything but a wonderful-gut change from her usual days as the owner of her bakeshop, Rebecca’s Porch.
Unfortunately, this December felt a little different. Suddenly, she felt older, was more aware of her single, never-been-married status than usual, and she was already wondering how she was ever going to make one hundred and fifty special-order Christmas cakes this year.
She couldn’t believe it had happened.
Almost ten years ago, she’d begun offering fancy three-layer Christmas cakes. The dense cakes covered in fluffy white frosting and topped with a poinsettia made from fondant were her pride and joy. Each not only looked pretty but was also made from the best ingredients she could find. The first time Rebecca had offered the special-order cakes, she’d had two-dozen orders.
They’d been such a hit, the amount ordered every year had grown. Four years ago, feeling overwhelmed, she’d placed a limit on the cakes she would make. The number was firmly capped at one hundred.
Unfortunately, one of the new girls at the shop, not realizing how important the reservation sheet was, made her own. By the time Rebecca realized what had been done, an additional fifty cakes had been ordered.
Now Rebecca had more cakes to bake than ever before and even less time to make them. It was enough to keep her up at night.
Hating to be filled with negative thoughts, she shook off her worries and concentrated on the beautiful morning. After all, the Lord never gave more than He could provide.
It truly was a beautiful morning, too. Instead of being below freezing, it was a rather balmy forty-five degrees. Rebecca was in fine spirits as she ventured out on her morning walk with Goldie, her lovely golden retriever.
With each step, Rebecca felt her usual happiness return. By the time she was halfway through her walk, she had smiles for everyone. Even the folks who seemed to be in a perpetual state of gloom and grumpiness all year long.
“Morning, Emmitt.”
“Morning, Miss Rebecca.” The older man nodded, then approached Goldie, who waited patiently for the bow-legged octogenarian to give her his usual morning pet. “Morning, Goldie. You’re looking lovely this morning as always.”
Goldie wagged her tail. For some reason, Goldie was perpetually intrigued by Emmitt’s long gray beard. Her soft brown eyes stared at it with interest when the man reached down to scratch her behind her ears.
“You’re a right gut hund, for sure and for certain,” he murmured before beginning his slow approach back to his house. Goldie wagged her tail in a way that seemed to say she agreed with the statement.
“Have a gut day, Emmitt!” Rebecca called out.
He held a hand up in the air without turning around. “You too, missy. Take care now.”
“You are a really good dog,” she whispered to Goldie as they strode forward, the dog’s paws in sync with her own long stride.
“Hiya, Rebecca. How are you doing this morning?” Bethany asked.
“I’m gut. Danke.”
“Have you and your girls started baking Christmas cookies yet?”
“Not yet, but I was up early making snowballs and pretzels.”
“What about your Christmas cakes? Have you started any of them yet? I put in my order back in September, you know.”
Rebecca smiled. “It’s a bit early to start those cakes. But I’ll begin ordering the ingredients within the week.”
“Glad to hear it. Our family’s Christmas wouldn’t be the same without one of those cakes in the center of my dining room table.”
“Danke. Now, don’t wait until the end of the month to come in. We’ve got some special cinnamon tea brewing and all sorts of other treats. You should stop in.”
“You know I will,” Bethany said with a laugh. “Enjoy your walk, now.”
And so it continued. Rebecca walked three miles every morning. Most of the time with Goldie by her side. It was her favorite time of morning. She’d already prayed, baked for two hours in the shop’s vast kitchen, and now was taking a well-deserved break before slipping on one of her newer dresses and aprons and helping her staff and customers at the bakeshop. It was a busy life but a good one. Rebecca thrived on routine.
When she spotted an unfamiliar man sitting on the stoop of the Stutzmans’ house, she paused. Old Mr. Stutzman was rarely awake this time of morning, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him out to enjoy the day.
And then she got a better look at the man resting on the stoop. Why, it wasn’t Mr. Eli Stutzman at all. Her heart started beating faster as her footsteps slowed. Pressing a hand to the center of her chest, she attempted to pull herself together. Surely her wayward heart and forty-two-year-old eyes were playing tricks on her.
But of course they were not. It was him.
“Hiya, Rebecca,” Aden Raber said easily, just as if he were always sitting on the Stutzmans’ stoop. He wasn’t. He hadn’t been anywhere near her in twenty-five years.
“You’re truly a sight for sore eyes,” he continued with a grin. “Especially since you look as pretty as ever.”
It was all she could do not to glare.
Oh, but he had a lot of nerve to be sitting so calmly! There he was, sipping coffee and looking handsome, fit, and happy. He was smiling at her, too! Just as if he hadn’t broken her heart when she was seventeen.
Though everything in her was crying out to walk right by him without a word, or even turning around, she couldn’t. Greeting him in a civilized manner was the right thing to do.
Besides, Goldie was wagging her tail and pulling Rebecca forward, just as if she couldn’t wait to see the man.
When Aden’s dark brown eyes warmed under his black felt hat, Rebecca realized that he knew he was making her uncomfortable, but instead of attempting to make her feel better, he was merely interested in seeing how she would respond after all this time.
It seemed he hadn’t changed much, even after all this time.
Well, Rebecca could show him that she certainly had. No longer was she the naïve girl who’d fallen so hard for him that it had taken months to regroup after he’d broken her heart.
She was tougher now. Well, at the very least, she was tempered by time, like her favorite baking pans.
“Hello, Aden.”
He got to his feet. “I was hoping I might see you. Eli told me you walked by here every morning.”
Had Aden been waiting out here for her? “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I didn’t know you were in town.” And then, because she was determined to guard her heart no matter what, she blurted, “Why are you here?”
Aden didn’t seem to be offended by her bluntness. Instead, the lines around his eyes deepened as he spoke again. “I should’ve known you’d be the same. Still no beating around the bush for you, hmm?” he said lightly.
His comment was embarrassing. As a child and a teenager, she’d always been too outspoken and blunt. Her mother had constantly admonished her for it, claiming that Rebecca would never find a man until she’d learned to be more circumspect.
“I’m merely curious. Nothing more.” But still she waited.
“I’m only here on a job.” He pointed to the front door. “Eli left after Thanksgiving to spend a month with his daughter and her family in Kentucky. He asked me to do some remodeling work while he was out of the way.”
Years ago, owning his own remodeling business had been Aden’s dream. Even though she’d never wanted to see him again, Rebecca couldn’t deny that she was pleased for him. “You did it,” she said before she reminded herself that she should act a bit more aloof.
Walking closer, she noticed that his stomach was still flat and his biceps had gotten bigger. Shame filled her. How could he still look so good? And, more importantly, why couldn’t she keep herself from noticing?
Smiling at Goldie, who was practically quivering, she was so eager to be petted, Aden said, “Who’s this?”
“My dog. Her name is Goldie.”
His hand still hovered. “May I?”
He was being so kind to dear Goldie, Rebecca thawed a little. “If you don’t pet her soon, I think she’s going to pass out, she’s gotten herself in such a tizzy.”
He complied, stroking Goldie’s neck. The dog closed her eyes in happiness.
Aden laughed. “How old is she?”
“Three. Old enough to stop chewing my shoes but young enough to be good company on my walks.”
“I heard you take a lot of walks, too.”
She straightened. “It sounds like you’ve been asking about me.”
A new wariness entered his expression. “Only the basics,” he said. “I figured that it would be better to know something about you before we met again.”
“May I ask why?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to know how you were.”
His reply was so honest, so free from judgments or anger, she realized that she wanted to know more about him, too. “Ah.”
When she didn’t add anything else, he shifted on his feet. “So, um . . . how have you been?”
“Over the last twenty-five years?” She chuckled. “I guess all told, I’ve been okay.”
“Did you ever marry?”
The way he phrased the question, she knew that he knew she wasn’t married now. “Nee.” She lifted her chin. “I never did. You?”
“Jah. Her name was Anna Mae. She died about three years ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Danke. I’m sorry, too.” Something appeared in his eyes, something that looked almost like regret but she wasn’t sure.
“Did you have children?”
“Jah. Three. All girls.”
Rebecca couldn’t help but smile. Aden was a carpenter, burly, so capable. It amused her to think of him as the lone man in a houseful of girls. “I bet they kept you on your toes.”
“They did at that. The eldest is already married, and both of the others have steady beaus. Now they spend their days keeping their men on their toes.”
“It sounds like you’ve had a good life.”
His smile faltered. “Why did you never marry, Rebecca?”
Though she knew Aden didn’t ask to make her feel bad, she still did.
How could she tell him that she hadn’t ever found a man who compared to him? “I don’t know. I guess the Lord didn’t see fit to send me my match,” she murmured. Though to be sure, that was a lie. He had, indeed, given her a perfect mate. The problem had been that Aden hadn’t felt the same way.
“I’m sorry for that.”
He was sorry? They’d been in love, and he’d left her!
Suddenly, she needed space. It was too hard to stand there with him, thinking about what could have been and what never was. Too hard not to blame him when she’d encouraged him to go in the first place.
Too hard to admit that even though she’d encouraged him to leave, there was a part of her that had always imagined he felt the same way about her that she did about him.
That he would want to rush back to see her because he missed her.
But, of course, that had never happened.
Pasting a smile on her lips, she stepped back a bit. The movement caused Goldie to stand up again. “Well, it’s getting rather chilly out here. I need to start moving and warm myself up.”
“I suppose so. The cold does creep into one’s bones after a time.”
“I need to get ready to open the shop, too.”
“It’s called Rebecca’s Porch, jah?” After she nodded, he said, “Maybe I’ll come in and get coffee or a pastry one day soon. If you don’t mind?”
She appreciated his asking that. Appreciated his acknowledgment that he was on her turf, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. But it was time to let the past go—as well as her hard feelings. “I don’t mind at all, Aden. Come into the shop whenever you would like.”
“I’ll do that then.”
“Which means that we’ll see each other soon.” She inclined her head slightly. “Good day.”
“Jah. Good day to you, Rebecca Christner. And Goldie.”
Goldie wagged her tail, causing them both to chuckle. Then, because there wasn’t anything more to say, Rebecca lifted a hand. A kind of half-hearted wave before turning away.
Though she didn’t look back, Rebecca was fairly sure she could feel his eyes resting on her as she walked down the sidewalk.
Or maybe it was simply hope that he was still thinking about her. If that were the case, then he would finally know how she’d been feeling.
For much, much too long.
Rebecca Christner was still beautiful.
Shaking his head in exasperation at himself, Aden took a sip of coffee, found it lukewarm, and poured the rest of the cup out. He needed to go back inside and continue pulling out old cabinets—John was waiting for him—but he stood there trying to catch one last glimpse of her before she disappeared around the corner.
Craning his neck, he was successful. He saw one final sway of her navy cloak before she disappeared from sight. How could a woman he hadn’t seen in twenty-five years still affect him so?
Because it was Rebecca; that was why.
From the time he’d decided to return to town, Aden had been mentally preparing for their reunion. And, because he couldn’t help it, he’d spent many minutes wondering how the years had treated her. He knew from his own experiences that anything could have happened.
She could have gotten bitter or worn out by life. She could have indulged in so many of her sweets that her appearance would be very different from that of the slim girl he used to know.
But instead, Rebecca still seemed to exude something bright and clean. Honestly, she was like a breath of fresh air. She had a bloom in her cheeks, and a smile for her dog.
“How did it go?” his old friend John asked when Aden went back inside the house. “Did she give you the time of day?”
“She did.” Of course, not much more than that. “Kind of.”
“When are you going to see her again?”
John was far too interested in Aden’s reunion with Rebecca. Worried that somehow his friend would share the news with someone who would promptly pass it on to her, Aden took care to keep his answers low-key. “I’ll probably stop by her bakeshop one day soon.”
But instead of looking disappointed by the casual reply, John grinned. “Will you now?”
His old buddy looked far too entertained. “What does that grin mean?”
“Only that it will be mighty interesting to see you sipping kaffi while sitting at one of the girly tables in Rebecca’s Porch.”
“Girly tables?” Aden rolled his eyes. “You need to advance with the rest of us to the twenty-first century, John. Lots of men drink coffee, and some of them even go into coffee shops to enjoy it.”
“You are right. I canna deny that.”
Pleased that John was taking his point seriously, Aden added, “I know you think I’m exaggerating things, but it’s not just me who thinks this way.” He waved a hand, just as if he got paid to advertise coffee shops. “I mean, think about all the Starbucks around. There are just as many men who frequent them as women. I promise that’s true.”
“Yes, it is. I shouldn’t have joked about Rebecca’s shop.” John looked as if he were going to add something else, but instead picked up his hammer. “Where do you want me, boss?”
“Let’s get back to work on those old cabinets. Grab a crowbar and your gloves. Pulling them all out of here is gonna be a tough job.”
“It is. They’re put on so good, one would think they used Gorilla Glue.”
“Gorilla Glue?” Aden knew all about the stuff, but he was pretty shocked to hear John mention it.
“Just keeping up with the times, Aden. You aren’t the only one of us who’s picked up some new habits over the last twenty-five years.”
Aden would’ve been more inclined to agree if he wasn’t so sure that John was pulling his leg. Deciding to play it safe, he said, “Just get to work, jah? Eli is expecting a transformation in here, and I aim to make sure he receives it.”
“Sure thing.” Picking up the crowbar, John got to work.
Aden let him go back to the kitchen on his own. He needed a moment to think about what had just happened and to plan his next steps.
He’d been hopelessly naïve when he’d pictured his reunion with Rebecca. Though he wasn’t normally the type of man to be foolishly optimistic, he had imagined their first meeting would have gone better. Back in Ohio, after Eli Stutzman had contacted him about doing the remodel job, Aden had weighed the pros and cons for several days.
On the one hand, there would be a good chance he would be gone for all of December and maybe even Christmas. That meant he would be away from his girls for some time. But just as he’d been ready to refuse Eli’s job offer and stay where he was, the girls had reminded him that they’d all made Christmas plans with other people this year. It was Jenna and her husband’s turn to go to his parents, Marta was traveling to Florida to see cousins, and Corrine had promised Anna Mae’s parents that she’d go to their farm. Of course, all three girls had encouraged him to join them, but he’d refused weeks earlier. None of the places had felt like a good fit.
He’d realized that there was nothing keeping him at home . . . but the dream of what could have been was calling him back to Pennsylvania. Especially after his brother Frank assured him that Rebecca still hadn’t married.
Aden was embarrassed to realize that a part of him had thought Rebecca would be so surprised and delighted to see him that she’d be willing to forget how he’d left her with little notice all those years ago.
That she wouldn’t remember all the promises he’d made when they’d been alone, sharing their dreams. All those promises he’d broken.
It had been mighty obvious that she hadn’t forgotten anything. She might be cordial, but she certainly wasn’t going to throw him a welcome-home party.
He needed to back up, rethink things, and come up with a new plan.
Yes, that’s what he needed. A December plan. A way to become involved in her favorite month of the year.
No, he needed to be part of one of her favorite things about her favorite month. He had thirty days to do it.
Already imagining all the moonlit walks, sleigh rides, and other assorted activities they could to do together, he smiled. Yes, that’s what he would do. They’d get reacquainted during her free time. And maybe—just maybe—by January first, she would be anxious to resume a relationship with him again . . . and maybe even consider eventually moving to Ohio.
It made perfect sense to him.
Rebecca still felt shaken up, and she didn’t appreciate the feeling. It was wreaking havoc with her work, too. All morning she’d been absentminded. She’d even caught Miriam and Sarah—two of her best assistants—exchanging looks of alarm.
She didn’t blame them for being confused, either. Miriam had just had to stop her from putting the sour cream pound cake in the oven. It seemed she’d forgotten to add the eggs. Rebecca knew she needed to get back on track and soon, too. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to make a bunch of inedible baked goods. Just thinking about the waste made her shudder.
Unfortunately, neither her coworkers’ confusion nor the fear of wasting food and money helped her get back on track. All she seemed able to do was daydream. Not that she was doing a very good job! So far, she’d revisited the first time Aden had kissed her, the first time they’d gone to a get-together as an official couple, and the way he’d looked at her when she’d knit him a new navy-blue sweater for Christmas.
He’d looked at her like she’d hung the moon.
“Ah, Rebecca?”
Startled from her reverie, she turned to Sarah. “Jah?”
Sarah looked uncomfortable. “Ah, Rebecca, would you like me to finish making that cake for ya?”
“Why do you ask?” Rebecca looked at the mixing bowl. She honestly couldn’t remember what she’d been making.
“Because you’ve put five cups of sugar into the bowl,” Sarah said hesitantly. “That’s too much for even two chocolate cakes.”
Rebecca had been mixing together a chocolate cake? “I’m pretty sure I didn’t put five cups of anything in the mixing bowl, dear.”
“Sarah isn’t wrong,” Miriam said. “I’m afraid we’ve been counting.”
Gazing down into the batter, Rebecca realized that the consistency was off. The color, too. Worse, she had no idea of what amounts she’d put in already.
Rebecca made herself admit that she was doing more harm than good at the moment. “I’m sorry, Sarah. It seems you’re right. I . . . well, I guess my mind has been drifting today.” She forced a laugh that sounded as fake as it felt. “I’m not sure what’s been going on with me.” Picking up the large stainless-steel bowl, Rebecca said, “I’ll get rid of this now.”
“Nee, don’t do that.” Sarah took the bowl away from her. “I can fix it up.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’ll just make three chocolate cakes. No harm there, since they’re such good sellers.”
On another day Rebecca might have argued with Sarah’s suggestion. Chocolate cakes were good sellers, but three extra ones were sure to be difficult to get rid of. However, there was no way Rebecca was going to argue.
“Danke, Sarah,” she told the eighteen-year-old. “Thank you for looking out for me today.” Wiping a hand on her white apron, she shook her head. “I don’t know what’s happened to me this morning.”
“I do,” Miriam said. “I heard you saw your old flame.”
“What?”
Sarah smiled. “Everyone’s been talking about it.”
“I didn’t realize the people I spoke to on my walks were such a point of interest.” Realizing how that sounded, Rebecca cleared her throat. “I mean, if you’re referring to Aden, he’s just an old friend.” An old friend whom she’d once thought she was going to marry. . .
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Christmas at the Amish Bakeshop
Shelley Shepard Gray
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