Dat cut her off. “Go ahead. I will be fine.”
Noelle’s shoulders slumped. She’d avoided helping with the booth for a few years now. She was horrible at selling. Her job was to do the baking. And, above all, she didn’t want to see Jesse.
However, missing the second Saturday of the Christmas Market would be a big hit to the business. She had to go—it was her duty to help her family. “Just a minute. I’ll change my apron.”
Ted gave her a nod, rubbed his hands together, and then headed toward the kitchen counter. “Mind if I have a creamstick?”
“Go ahead,” Noelle answered as she headed down the hall to her room.
She put Jesse out of her mind, as best she could. But she dreaded bumping elbows with a crowd of local Englischers and out-of-state tourists all day too.
She put on a fresh Kapp and a clean apron and determined, regardless of her stomach, which was growing more and more upset, to do what she needed to. When she came back down the hall, Dat stood at the kitchen counter with two slices of bread and a jar of peanut butter spread in front of him. “You will need a sandwich,” he said.
Surprised, Noelle answered, “Denki.” It wasn’t like her father to think of her needs.
He made the sandwich while she put on her boots, slipped into her coat, and grabbed her purse. Then Dat handed her a brown bag. “I put an orange in it too.”
She thanked him again and met his eyes. “The market doesn’t close until six.”
Dat nodded. “I will be fine. We will eat when you return.”
She stepped out the door. The exhaust from the van billowed out into the cold, and the icy wind stung her face. The weather forecast was for a weeklong cold spell with more snow.
Ted sat in the passenger seat of the van, licking his fingers, so Noelle climbed into the middle seat. She didn’t recognize the driver—a woman Ted introduced as Pamela—but he seemed well acquainted with her. The driver dropped him off at the Dawdi Haus behind the original farmhouse on the Schrock property.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” Pamela said as she turned the van around. “Salome said you were a big help in caring for her.”
Noelle wasn’t sure what to say. It worried her to know Salome talked about her to a stranger. Her sister was known for her constant gossiping, and Noelle didn’t trust her.
Plus Salome had used the word help in talking with Pamela, as if Salome had been in charge of Mamm. It was Noelle who had seen to her care, along with Dat. True, Salome liked to barge in as if she were in charge, but it was Noelle who’d done all of the work.
Pamela turned onto the highway. “So you and your father just moved into the new house?”
“That’s right,” Noelle answered, soaking in the view of the snowy fields on either side, appreciating the winter wonderland around her. Salome and Ted’s oldest, Paul, now farmed the land. Paul and his wife already had four little ones, so it made sense for them to live in the big house. The new house, the one she and Dat had just moved into, was essentially a second Dawdi Haus, although it sat by itself on the southeast plot of land.
Noelle had lived in the big house as a baby. By the time she was in school, Ted and Salome and their children occupied it, because Noelle and her parents had moved into the Dawdi Haus after the last of her eight older sisters left home. By then Noelle already had a score of nieces and nephews.
Now all of the older ones were married, except for Moriah, who was a widow. Of course there were many who were younger than Noelle was too, all the way down to infants, and now there were great-nieces and great-nephews too.
Time seemed to march on for everyone but her. Family and friends all around her were growing up, getting married, and starting families while she’d been frozen, as solidly as the icicles hanging from the eaves of the farmhouses they passed by, for the last three years.
They arrived at the market by eight-thirty, parking in the back among the other vans, cars, and buggies. Noelle only had a half hour to unload and set up the booth. Thankfully, Pamela grabbed a dolly just outside the door of the market and began stacking plastic crates, explaining, “Salome pays me extra to do the heavy lifting. She’s been having pain in her back for a while.”
Noelle grabbed a crate of whoopie pies and followed Pamela. Salome had complained some about her back, using it as one of her excuses to not help lift Mamm, but Noelle hadn’t realized it was affecting her ability to carry crates in and out of the market or perhaps do things at home. And now she’d injured it worse.
A threshing accident had left Ted disabled over a year ago. Then Moriah’s husband died. Jah, it had been a hard year for all of them.
Pamela pushed through the back door into the building and then led the way past a big dining area with a kitchen to their right. The door was open, showing a large range, double sinks, and lots of counter space. Noelle couldn’t help but be impressed by the kitchen. The dining area was also new since the last time she had been to the market. She’d come with Jesse not long before he’d left.
She followed Pamela into the large hall with booths of pretzels, popcorn, sausages, candles, soaps, quilts, furniture, baskets, and dried flowers. She caught whiffs of lavender potpourri as she hurried past. Finally, the woman stopped at Salome’s booth, toward the back. “You start setting up,” she said. “I’ll keep unloading.”
“Denki,” Noelle replied.
Noelle had started helping Mamm with the baking for the business by the time she was nine. Of course, everything had to follow regulations, and Mamm made sure to
