“Where’s Jesse?” Holly asked.
Noelle shrugged.
“Why don’t you go ask that guy?”
“Good idea.” She grabbed an apple half-moon pie—there wasn’t an Amish man in the world who wouldn’t eat one in the morning with his coffee—and headed toward the carpenter.
“Guder Mariye.” She handed him the pie. “How are you doing?”
He grinned. “Gut.” Taking the pie, he added, “Denki.”
“I’m a friend of Jesse’s,” Noelle said. “And thought I’d check up on him.”
“Jah, well, someone needs to,” the man teased as he unwrapped the pie.
Noelle didn’t want to ask if Jesse had returned to Montana. She scrambled for a moment, not sure how to phrase her question. Finally she asked, “Is he ill?”
The man shook his head as he took a bite of the pie. Once he’d swallowed he said, “Delicious. I’ll be coming by your booth before the day is over.” The man took another bite.
All she wanted to know was why Jesse wasn’t at the market. “Is everything all right?”
The man nodded and took another bite. When he swallowed again he said, “His little girl is sick. He’s taking her to the doctor. He said she’s been out of sorts the last few days, and he’s worried because of some condition she has.”
Noelle thanked the man for the information. No one had said anything about Greta having a “condition.” She returned to her booth, told Holly what was up with Jesse, and then sold her mini selections and pies for the next nine hours. Thankfully Carlos returned to the market midmorning and relieved Holly and Noelle, so they could take a couple of breaks and eat their lunches.
At quitting time, Noelle only had a couple of regular-sized pies left and a few boxes of creamsticks. All of the whoopie pies had sold, along with the half-moon pies. When Steve walked by, she offered him a whole pie again, saying, “I’ve had a really good day. I’d like you to take it.”
“Denki,” he said, a smile on his face. He took the box and then asked about placing an order with her. “My wife was going to make pies for Christmas Day, but then she asked if we could buy them from you. She says yours are much better.” He lowered his voice. “I would never tell her this, but she’s right.”
Noelle wasn’t sure either one of them was right, but she knew how much work it was to put together a holiday meal. It would be much easier for his wife to order the pies.
“We’re having a large group. I think we’ll need five pies.” He grinned. “So there will be leftovers.”
“No problem,” Noelle said. “But can you pick them up on Christmas Eve? I can’t deliver them.”
“That works.” They arranged the details and then Steve put his baseball cap on backward, picked up the pie, and continued on through the market.
Salome had never taken orders for Christmas pies before, and here Noelle had taken two. She wouldn’t put out a sign, advertising the service—not this year, anyway. And she doubted Salome would be in favor of it for next year. But Noelle was pretty sure it was a service worth looking into, especially if she was going to continue doing the baking and the selling. As for the extra money from the Christmas pies this year, she’d put it toward Dat’s new medicines. And pray that he would live long enough to enjoy another Family Christmas.
CHAPTER EIGHT
On Friday morning, Noelle’s heart raced when she arrived at the market. Jesse was back, along with five little rocking chairs, two tiny chests, and a child-sized bookcase. She intended to speak with him. She really did. But she didn’t manage to. Part of the reason was she lost her courage. Her other excuse was that she was swamped.
In the early afternoon, Carlos gave Jesse a break. Again, Noelle lost her nerve in telling him she needed to speak with him. But when he stopped by her booth, she did ask how Greta was doing.
“Better,” he said. “She gave us quite a scare though. I’m grateful I have Aenti Barbara to help me through all of this.”
Noelle gave him a questioning look, hoping he’d continue. When he didn’t, she couldn’t stop her curiosity. “What’s going on?”
“She has a disease. It’s worse than what we’d thought.” His expression grew forlorn.
“I’m sorry,” Noelle said. “How long have you known she had it?”
He swallowed hard and then, when he spoke, his voice was faint. “Since soon after she was born . . .”
She didn’t press him any further. He seemed so sad. Instead, she gave him a box of creamsticks.
“Denki,” he said. “These are my favorite.”
She remembered.
He held the box in both hands. “And I’m grateful for the idea to sell Kinder-sized items too.” He nodded toward his booth. “I’ve already sold four of the rocking chairs and one of the chests. And I have a buyer interested in the bookcase.”
“Wunderbar,” Noelle said. “Too bad it takes so long to make them.”
He shrugged. “They’re not too hard. I have two more chairs I’ll finish up tonight. And a bookcase.”
He held up the box of creamsticks. “Anyway, it’s been good working at the market with you. If I don’t see you before closing, I’ll see you tomorrow.” As he turned to go, a wave of sadness washed over Noelle. Once he returned to Montana, that would be it. Tomorrow was all she had.
On Saturday morning, the last day of the Christmas Market, Noelle had almost worked up the courage to venture back to Jesse’s booth when Holly called across the aisle, “Can you believe this is it?”
Noelle shook her head.
“I’m really going to miss you, Twin.” Holly grinned.
“I’m going to miss you too.” Noelle’s voice quavered, and she couldn’t manage even the smallest smile.
Holly took two big steps across the aisle and wrapped Noelle up in her arms. “Ahh,” she said. “It’s been such a gift from God to spend time with you this last month.”
Noelle hugged her friend back. Behind Holly, three of her
