“Those cookies smell appeditlich.” Naomi King smiled at Margaret as the young woman pulled a tray of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. She brushed a bit of excess flour from her hands. “Chunks or chips?”

“Chunks, this time.” Margaret put the cookie sheet on top of the stove and turned to Naomi. “I noticed the chunky ones sell faster than the chips.”

Using a knife, Naomi cut the freshly rolled bread dough into narrow strips, which she then manipulated into twists. “I’m surprised we ran out of the bread twists so soon.”

“They’ve been pretty popular too.” Margaret picked up a metal cooling rack and put it on the counter next to the stove. A knock sounded on the front door. “I’ll get it.” She left the kitchen.

With quick, practiced motions Naomi put the pale twists on a baking sheet and popped them into the oven. She wound the timer and walked over to the sink to wash her hands. The window above the sink was open halfway, letting a refreshing cool breeze into her small kitchen. Not for the first time she said a prayer of thanks for Margaret’s help with her bakery business. For the past three months, since Naomi started selling baked goods from the dawdi haus where she lived behind her parents’ home, business had been brisk. She wouldn’t have been able to keep up, not without Margaret’s help.

A few moments later Margaret returned and handed Naomi thirty dollars. “Three loaves of bread, a gooseberry pie, and two pumpkin rolls. The Englisch woman was a repeat customer, by the way.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Naomi looked at the money. “Geh ahead and keep it.”

“But you already paid me.”

“I know. You’ve been working extra hard these past two weeks. You deserve a little extra.”

Margaret smiled and tucked the money into her purse, which was hanging on a peg near the back door. “Did you know you have a leak in your front room?”

“What?”

“A small drip in the corner, by the couch. I noticed it as the woman was leaving.”

“Nee.” Naomi hurried out of the kitchen, down the narrow hallway to the small sitting room. She saw several drips of water slip from a sag in the ceiling. Last night an intense storm had hit Paradise. Being a deep sleeper, she’d slept through the whole thing. But this morning Margaret had mentioned seeing several large branches littering the yards along the road, ripped from the trees by the harsh winds. The winds must have damaged the roof somehow.

Quickly she went to the back porch and retrieved a bucket. She moved the couch out of the way and put the bucket under the drip. After getting a towel from the linen closet she wiped up the water from the hardwood floor.

“How bad is the damage?” Margaret moved to stand next to her.

“I think the floor is all right.” Naomi looked up at the ceiling again. “I don’t know about the roof.”

“Isn’t the haus pretty old?”

“At least fifty years. My grossvatter built it for his parents.” She rubbed her fingers against her temple. “I hate to tell Daed about this, but I’ll have to. He’s so busy with wedding preparations; he doesn’t need another thing to worry about.” She also didn’t think her father needed to be repairing a roof, not at his age. “So many things have been going wrong lately. Like the house Chester is building for Priscilla and him to live in. The foundation didn’t set right, the lumber they ordered for the frame was delayed, and Chester’s brother Abraham broke his wrist when he fell off the roof. Now this.” She frowned.

“It’s only a small leak, Naomi. It shouldn’t be any trouble to fix. Do you want to tell your daed now? I can handle any customers that come by, and I’ll whip up another batch of cookies too.”

Naomi shook her head. “He’s not home. I’ll wait until tonight.” She looked at Margaret, her eyes suddenly going wide. “The bread twists!”

“I took them out already,” Margaret said.

Naomi breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her friend’s cheeks pinked. “You’d do just fine.” She smiled. “All this baking has made me hungry.”

“Let’s break for lunch.”

A short while later, Margaret joined Naomi on the back porch underneath the extended roof, a shiny red apple in one hand, a turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich in the other. With the toe of her black lace-up shoe Naomi pushed a chair toward Margaret and took a bite of her tuna fish sandwich.

It had rained most of the morning. Heavy drops fell from the edge of the roof, but there was enough shelter to keep the women dry.

“We won’t be able to sit out here much longer.” Margaret sat down and let out a small shiver. “Winter isn’t far around the corner.”

Naomi pulled her sweater closer to her body. “I’m surprised it’s so chilly. Must be because of the storm last night.”

Margaret polished the apple on the edge of her white apron. A few grease spots dotted the thin fabric. “How are the wedding plans going?”

“Other than what I’ve already told you, gut so far.” Naomi set her sandwich down on her napkin and took a sip of water from her glass.

“And to think those two wouldn’t be getting married if you hadn’t helped them find each other.”

“Oh, I didn’t do much.”

“You must have, because Priscilla said you convinced her to give Chester a chance. And I remember seeing you talking to Chester a few times. The next thing I hear, the two of them are courting.” Margaret sighed. “It’s all so romantic.”

Naomi smiled. “They are a perfect match, ya? My sister has never been so happy.”

“I know I shouldn’t say this, but I’m a little jealous.” Margaret rolled her apple around in her hand. “I wish I could find someone to love.”

“You will.”

“Sometimes I really doubt that. I’m almost twenty-four, Naomi.”

“What about Ben Hooley?”

“Him?” Margaret waved her hand as if she were batting away a pesky fly.

“But he’s picked you up a couple of times.” Naomi thought of the quiet, stolid man who had moved to their district a few years ago. “I thought you two liked each other.”

“He only gives me rides home as a favor to Daed. He doesn’t even talk on the ride home. Ben Hooley isn’t the mann for me, that’s for sure.” She leaned forward, her cheeks turning pink, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I’m kind of embarrassed to ask you this.”

“We’re friends, Margaret. You can ask me anything.”

Margaret’s light blonde eyebrows formed a V over her pale blue eyes. “Could you . . . could you help me find someone?”