© 2019 by Jan Drexler
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Repackaged edition published 2020
Ebook edition created 2020
Previously published with two other novellas in 2019 as An Amish Christmas Kitchen
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—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-1894-7
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the authors’ imaginations and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The author is represented by WordServe Literary Group.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
Recipe: Jam Thumbprint Cookies
An Excerpt from Hannah’s Choice
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
To the memory of Ruth Ann
Soli Deo Gloria
CHAPTER ONE
Ada Weaver eyed the frozen puddle in front of the door of Heritage Amish Furniture, a stack of boxed baked goods balanced in one hand, her key to the store in the other. To open the door, she would have to lean over that ice without dropping the six boxes full of cupcakes. Her sister Rose had left the house ten minutes ago, but she usually entered the store through the workshop, leaving Ada to unlock the customers’ entrance.
“Rose!” Ada leaned as far over the ice as she could to peer in the window. Rose was nowhere in sight.
She reached out with her toe to knock on the door but nearly lost her balance.
“Let me help you.”
The voice came from behind as a gloved hand took her key, reached past her, and unlocked the door. As he turned the doorknob, Ada looked up into the face of Dat’s newest employee.
“Denki,” she said, stretching one foot over the ice and onto the threshold. “We’ll have to put ice melt out right away, before any customers show up.”
The young man grinned, his glasses steaming in the warm room. He wore a black knit cap and a black coat, just like all the Amish men in the Shipshewana area wore in the winter. His brown eyes didn’t meet hers but looked around the store as he took off his gloves.
“I haven’t been in the shop before.” He fingered a display of wooden Christmas tree ornaments. “You sell more than just furniture in here.”
“For sure, we do.” Ada unwrapped her shawl and hung it on the wooden hook next to the door. “Dat says folks don’t make a large purchase like furniture very often, but you never know what they’ll walk out with when they come in to browse.”
He walked along the counter until he reached the glass cases where the baked goods were displayed. Ada took the boxes behind the counter and stacked them on top of the first display case, opening one and setting the cupcakes she had baked that morning on a tray. The cookies Rose had brought over from the house were still in their boxes on top of the second case. While she worked, she searched her mind for the young man’s name. She remembered that he had moved to Wisconsin several years ago when they had both finished their schooling, but the family had moved back to Indiana last week.
“Who makes the cookies and cupcakes?” He straightened up, still not looking at her.
“I do. Rose and I work in the store together, but she doesn’t like to bake. So, she takes care of dusting the display furniture and ordering the other items we sell.” She glanced at him. “Rose is my sister, and I’m Ada.”
He grinned again. “I remember you from school. I’m Matthias Yoder. Your Dat hired me yesterday to work in the factory.”
She nodded, glad that he had taken the hint and she didn’t have to ask his name outright. “He told us about you last night at supper. He said you have a lot of experience working with wood.”
Just then Ada saw movement through the window on the far wall, the one that looked out into the parking lot. Amos Hertzler coasted to the bike rack and inserted the front wheel of his bicycle between the bars. She waited as he entered the door to the furniture factory, but he didn’t turn toward the window. Amos never turned toward her.
Ever since Amos started working for Dat a year ago, soon after moving to Shipshewana from Nappanee, Ada had waited for him to notice her. It was hard since they didn’t belong to the same church district, but someday he would turn and look toward the store on the way into the workshop. Then she would wave to him. He would stop, then a slow smile would appear. He would start walking toward her—
“Who made these?” Matthias asked. He had walked over to the display of floor clocks on the far wall and run his hand over the wooden case of the tallest one.
“Dat makes all the clocks.” Ada pulled her thoughts back as she worked to keep a note of pride from her voice. She started transferring the cookies to the display case. “People come from as far as Missouri to buy them.”
“This is fine craftsmanship.” Matthias came back to the counter. “That’s one reason why I wanted to work here. My Dat worked with Leroy before we moved to Wisconsin, so I knew I had to look him up when we came back.”
“I remember him. Ervin Yoder was one of Dat’s best woodworkers, and customers still ask about his work. He’ll have to come in and say hello. I’m sure Dat will be happy to see him again.”
“Dat passed on in the spring.” Matthias kept his gaze somewhere around his toes.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Denki.”
As Ada slid the spatula under the last
