The Amish Baker. Marie E. Bast

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Epilogue

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      Washington County, Iowa

      Sarah Gingerich stomped into her Amish Sweet Delights bakery an hour earlier than her usual arrival time of 4:00 a.m. Who could sleep a wink after what Bishop Yoder had said to her yesterday? She slid the dead bolt closed. He had his nerve.

      Straightening her shoulders, she shook off the indignant words. Gelassenheit—calm down and let it go.

      She scooted to the pantry for flour, mixed the bread dough, tossed it on a floured board and began kneading. After folding the soft mass over, she floured and kneaded again.

      As she punched the dough a little harder than necessary, the bishop’s words came rushing back to her. Heat rose from her neck to her ears, burning her now as it had when he had said them. She couldn’t believe that during his preaching on the rewards of being a wife and mother, he had stared straight at her the entire time. Later, he called her aside and mentioned it was time she stopped mourning Samuel and remarried. Why would he say such a thing?

      Maybe it was just a casual comment, or maybe the bishop thought he was looking out for her best interest. That’s all. She steered her hands back to kneading and mentally put a circle around her bad thoughts and tossed them away.

      Tears pressed at the corners of her eyes. They caught on her lashes, and she batted them away. She had her daed’s bakery and the apartment upstairs; she didn’t need an ehemann for support. Sarah plopped the dough in a bowl, covered it and pushed it to the side. Then she grabbed more ingredients, stirred up several batches of yeast rolls and set them to rise.

      While the yeast worked, she stirred up a spice cake and shoved it into the oven. When the cake tested done, she pulled it out and popped the bread and rolls in to bake. She set the timer and started on the pies and cookies.

      When the first batch of baked goods had cooled, she carted the pastries to the front of the shop and placed them in the display case. A job Hannah Ropp, her friend and assistant, usually performed. Hannah loved to decorate the shelves with rows of cookies and cupcakes in cute patterns—maybe in a heart shape.

       Where is Hannah? She’s usually here by now.

      Sarah set the goodies the kinner liked on the bottom shelf. Treats adults normally selected took over the middle shelf. The best sellers, breads and rolls claimed the prize spot on the top shelf.

      Without Hannah, she didn’t have time to arrange the shelves neatly. Her eyes roamed over the display. Not as gut a job as her friend would have done, but good enough for now.

      The bakery’s cell phone, which the Ordnung allowed for business, jingled and lit up with Hannah’s name. She touched the screen. “Where are you?”

      “I figured you’d forget. I have a doctor’s appointment this morning and will be in around noon.”

      “I’m sorry. I did forget.” Tension laced her voice.

      “Oh, no. Is something wrong?”

      “I wanted to tell you what Bishop Yoder said to me yesterday.”

      “What