Made with Love (6 page)

Lovina rode home as quick as her legs would pedal. She waved and smiled as she passed the park. A few mothers chatted as their children played, and an Amish man was fixing one of the wooden fence posts that had come loose. Two small boys stood watching him. She recognized the boys—Caleb and Abby Troyer's twins. Yet she didn't know the man. He put on a show, making it seem like lifting the hammer took all his strength. The boys laughed and then the man joined in too, touching the child's head with a soft hand.

Every time she saw tender moments like that her heart tugged, and she considered having her own family someday. Her concerns grew as she got older…but even those thoughts paled in comparison to the thought of her own pie shop.

The warm wind smelled of rain and flowers, and she spotted a group of teen boys fishing at Phillippi Creek. They didn't seem to mind the misty rain that fell. In the months she'd lived in Pinecraft she'd seen people kayaking and canoeing in the brackish water. Folks had pulled out plenty of gar fish and some even
claimed shark sightings. Would she ever get used to this community? How long would it take for her heart to call this place home?

She only had a few hours until noon. She didn't know if she could stand it. Could this be the answer to all that she'd been praying for?

Once at home, Lovina gave up the idea of making pies. For the first time in as long as she could remember she couldn't concentrate on the recipes she knew by heart. Instead she went to her room, shut the door, and pulled out her notebook. It had started as a simple spiral notebook that she'd used to collect recipes she liked. Over the years it had grown as she glued in pictures and ideas for her pie shop. Now the notebook was a few inches thick, filled with all her favorite things.

On the first page was a brochure from the Amish bakery in Charm called Patty Cakes. It was a magical place, and most of the visitors came for cupcakes. It even had a toppings bar, with candy, nuts, and flavored frosting where one could decorate their cupcake any way they'd like. Lovina had always enjoyed pies more than cupcakes, but the bakery had been a special treat.

She smiled thinking about the carrot cake with cream cheese icing that Mem had bought and taken home on that first visit. Lovina had enjoyed the cake so much that Mem had traveled all the way to Charm for the recipe, and had presented it to Lovina for Christmas one year. The funny thing was that Sarah, who owned the bakery, had gotten the recipe from Esther Schlabach, right here in Sarasota, Florida! That recipe was tucked inside Lovina's notebook too.

In addition to the first brochure and the recipe card, Lovina had picked up other brochures in Amish communities and had cut more photos out of newspapers and magazines. She turned to the page with her favorite photo—a long, wooden display rack
filled with loaves of bread. She loved the simple design and the rustic lumber used for the rack. Lovina ran her fingers over the glossy image and then closed her eyes. She pictured a rack just like that, filled with pies in her shop. She pictured customers both Amish and Englisch choosing pies to take home for a family meal, and others sitting at small wooden tables and ordering a slice from young Amish women with bright cheery smiles.

“Lord, is this what you have for me?” The words slipped out before Lovina could stop them. Growing up in her Amish community no one prayed out loud, but she'd become more used to it here. There were just as many Mennonites as there were Amish in Pinecraft. People prayed at community meals. They prayed at church. And when her whispered prayer slipped out, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

Lovina didn't want to pray for God to open the doors of this building. Who was she to tell God what to do? All she knew was she could see herself there. She could see the building all set up. She could picture it. But she also trusted that God's ways were best. She'd learned that as a child. Her grandmother especially had reminded her that God's good will would be done, and none of them were to question it.

The minute hand moved slowly, and Lovina made herself a cup of tea. Dat was feeling better, and he and Mem had gone out on a walk to Yoder's. Thankfully the rain had come and gone and they weren't home to ask questions. Mem would have known something was up for certain if she hid away in her room instead of baking.

Lovina closed the notebook and then got out her hand mirror to check her hair. It was no use sitting around here. Tucking the notebook back into her hope chest, she decided to ride to the warehouse the long way. And as she went, Lovina knew she'd take time to dream, take time to pray.

Finding the perfect location was one thing, but bringing her dreams to life seemed nearly impossible. Would God really go out of the way to help fulfill one young woman's silly dreams?

She rode as slowly as she could, but Lovina still had to wait fifteen minutes for Jason and the owner to show up. Finally they arrived, Jason first and then the owner.

She cast her warmest smile to the Englisch man as he approached. He extended his hand to Jason. “Ready to see inside?”

Jason shook the man's hand and then looked to her. “Yes, we are, Mr. Johnson. This is Lovina Miller.”

The man nodded her direction but offered no further greeting before unlocking the front door.

Mr. Johnson was Englisch, and from the sheen and style of his clothes it appeared he had a lot of money. Lovina wanted to ask how he came to be the owner of a warehouse in an Amish and Mennonite settlement, but she changed her mind. While most of the Amish people she knew chatted about their lives and families before conducting business, this man moved with quick steps, as if he wanted to be done and on his way as soon as possible.

Lovina followed him inside and then her steps fell short. She scanned the room and sucked in a breath, thinking back to the list of “must-haves” she'd written in her notebook: two large bay windows, high ceilings, close enough to home to walk or bike to, even in the rain. This place was all of those things.

It was dusty, filled with junk, and needed work, but as Lovina scanned the large, open room her mind was already setting up shop. She knew exactly where the work counters would go, and the tables, and the pie display. The large windows were painted white to keep people from being able to see inside, and she wondered how hard it would be to remove the paint. She knew that was just one of many things to take care of when—if—she got the
place. But Lovina clapped her hands with glee when she realized the last criteria was covered too. God had met her desires down to every small detail! For once the paint was cleaned off the windows the beautiful southern sun would stream through.

Jason looked at her, and she saw the concern in his eyes as he looked around. She could almost see him adding up all the remodeling costs. And she was afraid of his total.

As the two men talked about the size of the lot and the proximity to the Amish village, Lovina moved into a back area. She flipped on a light as she took in the back office and the large storage area. She breathed the dusty, still air, but it was fresh with promise. There was an office chair next to a desk. She brushed it off with her hand and sat down. She should be feeling overwhelmed, but a strange peace settled in her heart. God had birthed His dream within her. He never had to worry about coming up with a bank loan. God owned everything. He cared for His children. He had good plans for her, and she knew that as she continued to take steps forward God would guide her way.

Lovina heard the men nearing, and she prayed simply in her mind for what steps were to come next.

She also prayed that if God had other plans He'd make it clear. But when the two men stepped into the office both were smiling. And the peace within her chest swelled.

“Lovina, I've been talking to Mr. Thomas,” Jason smiled at her. “And he's ready to sell. He's thinking that maybe the price he quoted before is a little high…”

Lovina folded her hands on her lap and nodded. For some reason she wasn't surprised.

Oh, Lord, You do have a plan in this, don't You?
She rose to face the men, eager to see what the day would hold.

 

Carrot Cake

2 cups flour

2 teaspoons baking soda

2 teaspoons cinnamon

2 cups sugar

¾ teaspoon salt

3 cups grated carrots

3 eggs

1½ cups vegetable oil

Cream Cheese Icing

4 ounces cream cheese, softened

¼ cup butter, softened

½ teaspoon vanilla

1½ - 2 cups powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 350°. Mix cake ingredients together in a large bowl. Pour into a greased 13 × 9-inch pan. Bake 50 minutes. To make icing, combine cream cheese, butter, and vanilla. Gradually add powdered sugar and beat until smooth. Continue to beat until light and fluffy.

Five

It is better to hold out a helping hand than to point a finger.

A
MISH
P
ROVERB

N
oah walked into the dusty warehouse and paused. Knuckles on hips, he scanned the room and let out a low whistle. Voices carried from the back—two men and a woman. The pretty woman who'd been checking out the warehouse earlier that day.

Noah had just returned from grocery shopping when they'd showed up. He'd watched them go and debated about whether or not to follow. If the warehouse needed to be cleaned out, or if they needed construction help, he wanted to offer his services.

He sucked in a breath. His heartbeat quickened as he took note of the items in the room. This place looked to hold the contents of an old theater. There were framed movie posters and theater chairs. An old industrial bistro table and a bronze fountain looked as if they'd seen better days. There were piles of lumber, a cast iron planter, and a stack of old doors. The room was full, and everything was partly hidden under a layer of dust.

Since he was a child strolling through the rows of items at his dad's auction yard, he'd found nothing more exciting than
discovering unique items, cleaning them up, and getting them into the hands of someone who understood their value.

Noah had worked in his father's auction yard since he was seven or eight years old. While most of the castaway items in this large area looked like junk, he could see their deeper value. In the months since he'd moved to Pinecraft he'd built a relationship with Sarasota Architectural Salvage. When all the construction jobs he'd hoped to get had fallen through, he'd made a little money going into homes that were being remodeled. He trained the teens to search through the large dumpsters to see if there was anything worth saving. It was amazing the things that people threw away. Such a waste. In the search for new and better most folks cast off materials that were not only still useful, but were unique and interesting too.

For the last two months they'd also cleaned out attics, dug through old garages, and helped haul out items from house remodels, finding treasure among the trash. Sarasota Salvage had come to trust him, and anytime he called they gladly sent a truck for a pickup. When they couldn't, Noah found an older, retired guy who was willing to drive them around in his truck. All that was good, but just making money wasn't the goal Noah had in mind. He wanted the teens to connect with the Amish community and to see how they could play a useful part. He wanted to earn the community's respect too.