The Christmas Courtship

by Emma Miller

  “Ne,” he said, watching her.

  “Sugar, then?” she asked, feeling flustered. “The coffee is strong. Benjamin likes it strong.”

  “Ne.” Eli laughed. “Phoebe, sit down. The coffee is fine. I like it black, but I didn’t come for the coffee.”

  She took another sip, and realizing she couldn’t possibly drink it, she set the mug down. If she did manage to drink it, she’d be up all night, it was so strong. “You...you didn’t?” she asked, switching to English. This was worse than she had even anticipated. He sounded so sweet.

  “Ne. You know why I’m here.” He lowered his voice. “I came to see you.”

  She stared at the table. This was just what she had hoped for when she’d come to Hickory Grove. Eli was more than what she had hoped for. He was a widower with children in need of a wife. But he was also kind, a hard worker, a faithful man. The night she had met him, she had even thought him to be fun. Especially for a man his age, a man who had suffered the loss of his wife and now had four little ones to care for alone. But he wasn’t what she wanted now.

  She pressed her lips together, staring at the table.

  He took a sip of his coffee. “Truth is, I came to ask you if I might court you. I’m just trying to get up the nerve.” He grinned. “Guess I just did.”

  She swallowed hard, looking away. “I...” She exhaled, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what she should say. She and Joshua had no agreement. He’d only brought up her being his girl five minutes ago. But the thing was, she already, in a way, felt as if she was his girl. And even if she wasn’t—even if Joshua was mistaken in his feelings for her—Phoebe couldn’t, in good conscience, agree to walk out with Eli. Not when she had so many emotions tied to Joshua right now.

  “It’s kind of you to ask, Eli.” She made herself look at him. “I’ve enjoyed our conversations at the Fishers’ and when we ran into each other at Spence’s the other day. You’re a nice man, but...” She held his gaze. “I don’t think—I’ll have to say no.”

  Eli sat back in his chair, his daughter still on his knee. Lizzy slid the wooden sheep across the table, pretending to make it drink from her father’s cup.

  Eli took a long moment before he said anything. “I’m sorry to hear that. Of course you’ve just arrived and—” He shrugged. “You’re thinking maybe you’ll get a better offer,” he said, not sounding in the least bit upset. “A young woman as pretty as you are, I imagine you’ll have lots of offers.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done.”

  He smiled slowly, a warm, gentle smile. When he spoke it was loud enough for only her to hear him. “If you’re talking about your son, Rosemary already told me.”

  Phoebe sat back in her chair. “She did?” she asked. But of course everyone in the town had to know, didn’t they? Everyone in this household had to know. Surely they had told others. And if Rosemary was speaking of her to Eli, she would have been responsible for telling him.

  “We’ve all made mistakes and the Lord forgives us for those mistakes, once we ask forgiveness. I would never judge you, Phoebe.”

  Tears sprang suddenly to her eyes. “You’re a good man, Eli.”

  “I hope that I am.” He lifted one shoulder and lowered it. “Some days I’m better than others.” He was quiet for a moment and then went on, “Why not think on it? I want you to know, though, that if we courted, it would be with the intention of marrying. As long as we got on, and I think we would.”

  Again, she made herself look at him. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say nothing. I ask nothing more of you now.” He pushed his mug toward her. “Except maybe a little more coffee.”

  She smiled, and half wished it was Eli she had dreamed of last night and not Joshua.

  * * *

  The midday sun shone bright overhead and Phoebe lifted her face to savor the warmth. First they’d had snow, then days of rain, and now at last the sun was shining again. “Cold out,” she commented, walking beside Bay down the deer path through the woods.

  In the distance, Joshua and Jacob walked, their heads together as they carried on a conversation. They were too far away for Phoebe to hear what they were talking about. She wondered if they were talking about her. She and Joshua hadn’t been alone to talk about what he had said to her on Thanksgiving Day about wanting her to be his girl. She was half afraid maybe he had changed his mind, because that had been days ago.

  They’d come to the woods on the edge of the family farm to harvest greenery. Originally it had been planned for Friday or Saturday, but after the rain all weekend, this was the first opportunity they’d had to go since the woods had dried out a bit. The wagon already had a pile of willow and birch twigs on it, as well as one of white pine and blue spruce branches. They’d left it back on the road they’d come in on. They were now in search of mistletoe, which grew in big balls high in the treetops, particularly oaks. Jacob said he was certain he’d seen mistletoe in the direction they were walking. He carried a rifle on his shoulder, and when they located the holiday greenery he would shoot it down from the tree.

  Phoebe clasped her hands together and lowered her head as the treetops overhead shaded her from the warmth of the sun. She was thankful for the navy-colored wool mittens she had brought with her. They had been her mother’s once, and darned many times, but she was comforted by the idea that her mother had once worn them. And she had made an identical pair for her son before she left, thinking they would keep him warm in her absence. The thought of her son suddenly made her miss him so much that she ached for him. It had been three weeks since she’d held him in her arms or kissed the top of his blond head.

  “Ya, it’s cold,” Bay agreed. “It was good that we left James and Josiah home. It might have nice for them to take a walk and I know they would have enjoyed riding through the woods in the wagon, but it’s too cold out here today for them. Too windy, and James already has a runny nose.”

  Phoebe nodded, forcing herself not to dwell on how much she missed her little boy. “Benjamin said it might snow again tonight.” She breathed deeply, taking in the scent of the pine needles scattered on the forest floor. “I don’t smell snow, but it was sure cold enough this morning when we woke.”

  “I’m glad it held off long enough for us to get out here. I’ve already sold half a dozen wreaths at the shop just with the sample I made up. Presale,” Bay explained. “I hung the one on the door with a little For Sale sign and folks are asking where they can get one.”

  Phoebe halted as a rabbit raced across the path in front, then started forward again. “It was smart to hang it on the door. I really liked the pine cones you added. How did you get them to stick? Wire?”

  Bay held up a low-hanging branch over their heads so they could safely continue. “Glue gun.”

  “Glue gun?” Phoebe asked. She’d never heard of such a thing.

  “It’s electric so I have to run it at the shop off the generators, but you put hard glue sticks in and it melts them. It makes it easy to attach pine cones or acorns, even bows. Benjamin’s given me a whole bench to work on the wreaths. And,” Bay added, “he brought me an armful of trimming from the apple trees in case I wanted to do something with them. I’m thinking the kind of wreath that isn’t fresh, so it won’t die,” she explained.

  Phoebe shook her head in wonder. Bay certainly knew a lot about the things Englishers would buy and how to sell them. The idea of building a greenhouse and selling vegetable plants and flowers had been Bay’s idea, Joshua had told her. She’d had just invited him to join in the venture, knowing the work at the harness shop wasn’t really in his heart. “I think you and Joshua are going to be very successful with this greenhouse and shop you’re going to build. Especially if you keep coming up with things like these wreaths to sell.” She thought for a moment. “Have you thought about making table arrangements? Like fo
r Christmas. I saw someone selling them at a market once in Pennsylvania.”

  “What a great idea!” Bay said. “Do you think you could show me what it would look like?”

  “Ya, I could even make one, I think,” Phoebe told her. “Josh keeps asking me to come down to the harness shop. Maybe I could make myself useful.”

  “I think that’s a great idea.” Bay glanced at Phoebe. “Phoebe—” She went quiet.

  “Ya?” Phoebe fell into step beside Bay.

  “I’m just going to come out and say this.” She chewed on her lower lip. Her cheeks were wind chapped, and her nose was red. She wasn’t as pretty as Ginger, but like all the Stutzman girls, she was awfully pretty. “Know I don’t say it to hurt you, only to protect my brother. Stepbrother,” she corrected, waving her hand as if to say, You know what I mean. She was wearing black work gloves like the ones the men wore. “I hope you’re not playing with Joshua’s feelings.”

  “What?” Phoebe stopped on the path beneath the branches of a big holly tree laden with red berries. “What are you talking about?”

  “We all see it,” Bay said, watching Joshua and Jacob move farther away from them. “He likes you. A lot. All he does is talk about you when you’re not around.”

  Phoebe felt a flutter in her chest. He talked about her? How sweet. “He does?”

  Bay pressed her lips together, which were also chapped. “And he thinks you like him.” She hesitated and then went on. “Phoebe, he doesn’t know your secret. I tried to tell him, but—”

  “Wait,” Phoebe interrupted. “What do you mean he doesn’t know my secret?” She frowned, her forehead creasing. “I have no secrets.”

  “You know what I mean. He doesn’t know you have a son,” she answered, but not unkindly.

  “My son is not a secret,” Phoebe said firmly. “I’ve never been anything but truthful with anyone since he was born. Your mother and Benjamin knew all the details. All of them. I thought they told everyone in the family why I had come.”

  Bay chewed on her lower lip. “She only gave the particulars to me because I asked when I overheard a conversation between her and Benjamin. She didn’t really think it was anyone’s business. The boys, especially, I guess.”

  Phoebe looked away, her heart sinking. She had just assumed that Joshua knew about her son. She had assumed that because Rosemary knew, the whole family knew. No, she and Joshua hadn’t talked about John-John, but she thought that was just because they hadn’t reached that point in their relationship.

  Would he think differently of her when he found out?

  Phoebe grabbed Bay’s hand. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest so hard that it was a wonder Bay couldn’t hear it. What if Joshua thought less of her for what she had done? Then she couldn’t be his girl. Then there could be no future with him. Then it was a mistake to tell Eli she wouldn’t walk out with him. “Please believe me when I tell you I am not playing with Joshua’s feelings. I promise you, I’m not.” She let go of Bay’s hand and strode forward.

  “Phoebe, where are you going?” Bay called after her.

  “To tell Joshua about my son.”

  Chapter Six

  Phoebe hurried along the woods path, her heart pounding in her chest. How could she have made such a terrible mistake in not discussing her son with Joshua? She should have brought up her little one with him the moment she realized they might care for each other. Because if it mattered to Joshua that she had had a baby out of wedlock, then she couldn’t be his girl. She could never marry him. No matter what others thought. Not even her mother.

  When Phoebe and her mother had begun discussing that it was time for Phoebe to find a husband, her mother had suggested that if she could find a man willing to marry her, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for him to ask that she not bring her child into the marriage. It had been done before, her mother had gently explained. Children born on the wrong side of the sheets were sometimes raised by grandparents, giving a young woman a fresh start. But Phoebe didn’t want a fresh start. She wanted her son with her. And she wanted a husband who accepted her as the flawed, repentant woman she was.

  “Joshua!” Phoebe called, walking faster, the cold breeze tugging at the hem of her dress.

  “Phoebe, wait,” Bay called after her. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Joshua, I need to talk to you.” Phoebe almost ran the last few steps to where the twin brothers stood, looking quizzically at her. “I’m sorry, Jacob,” she said out of breath, “but I need to speak to Joshua. Privately.” She grasped Joshua’s elbow, already steering him away from his brother.

  “Oh... Ya, sure,” Jacob said, obviously feeling awkward. He exchanged glances with his brother. “Bay and I, we’ll—I think I saw mistletoe this way.” He trudged off the path and into the woods. “Come on, Bay,” he called, waving her into the woods.

  “Phoebe, what’s wrong?” Joshua asked the moment Jacob and Bay were out of earshot. He looked down at her, his handsome face lined with concern.

  Phoebe glanced in Bay’s direction. She was cutting through the knee-high underbrush behind Jacob.

  “I didn’t know that you didn’t know,” Phoebe said, letting go of Joshua’s arm when she realized she was still holding it.

  He knitted his brows. “What are you talking about?”

  “My secret.” She shook her head, flustered. “Only he isn’t a secret. I never meant for him to be a secret from you.”

  “Phoebe...”

  He looked into her eyes, and against her will she teared up.

  “Come on, let’s sit,” he said gently, taking her hand.

  She let him lead her to a fallen tree only a few feet off the path.

  He sat down on the log in a small patch of sun and patted the place beside him. “Sit and tell me what’s wrong. Because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She considered staying on her feet, but she was feeling a little shaky, so she dropped down beside him. “You know what I’m talking about. My secret. Bay said she tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  He tipped his head back, suddenly understanding. “Aah,” he intoned.

  “Why wouldn’t you let her tell you?” she asked. She was honestly surprised by his response to his stepsister. People always wanted to know the shortcomings of others; it was in their nature. Even knowing God’s teachings on the subject of gossip, it was sometimes difficult to suppress the urge to tell stories on others and listen to them.

  Joshua took her mitten-covered hand in his and she let him hold it.

  “I didn’t let Bay tell me because I knew you would tell me anything you wanted me to know. In your own good time.”

  Another rush of tears came to Phoebe’s eyes. She knew Joshua was a good man from the first time she met him, but now she knew that he was more than a good man. He was an exceptional one. He had the wisdom of a man twice his age. “I have a child,” she whispered, looking into his face, waiting for his reaction.

  “A child?” he asked. His face showed no condemnation, only puzzlement.

  “A little boy. He’s three.” Despite her tears, she couldn’t help smiling. She missed her John-John so much that it hurt. But she was so proud of him. “A beautiful little boy.”

  “I see.” He turned her hand in his. “You were married before.”

  She shook her head slowly. “I was not.” Her first words were almost a whisper, but as she spoke, her voice grew stronger. “John-John’s father and I were betrothed to be married, but then...” She looked down at the rubber boots Rosemary had given her. They nearly matched Joshua’s. She made herself look at him again. “A week before John and I were to be wed, he was killed. An accident in a silo on his father’s farm.”

  “Oh, Phoebe,” Joshua breathed. He squeezed her hand. “I am so sorry.”

  She pressed her lips together and sniffed. “Thank you,�
� she whispered. “It was a match of our own choosing. My stepfather disapproved. A love match,” she added softly.

  Phoebe shifted her gaze to a cluster of pine trees in front of them, the branches heavy with weight of the snow and rain that had fallen over the last few days. She could smell the scent of the pine, clean and sweet. She watched a cardinal flit from one branch to another.

  Joshua sat quietly beside her, waiting for her to find her voice again. His patience gave her the courage to go on with her story.

  “I was so heartbroken,” she said softly, “that I was nearly out of my mind. And then I realized I was—” It was unheard-of for an Amish woman to speak to a man not her husband of her pregnancy. But in these circumstances, she felt like she had to be completely honest with Joshua. If they had any chance to have a relationship, he had to know everything. “First, I denied my...condition. Then I hid it for fear my stepfather would put me out of the house.”

  Joshua reached into his pocket, pulled out a red handkerchief and pressed it into her hand.

  “Thank you.” She pulled off her mitten and wiped her eyes and then her nose. “When my mother realized I...that there was going to be a baby, we had to tell my stepfather.” She hung her head wiping at her nose. “He was so angry, Joshua. Violent,” she whispered.

  Joshua stiffened beside her. “He hit you?” he asked, a sudden edge of anger in his voice. It was the first time she had ever heard him angry.

  “Ne.” She bit down hard on her lower lip, remembering that night. “He did not. But only because my mother was there, I think.” She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “He broke things. He threw them. My mother’s china dishes. A chair. He dragged me out of the house in a snowstorm. Took me to our bishop.” She closed her eyes and then opened them again. “It was terrible, Joshua. But I confessed what I had done, the sin I had committed. I confessed before my stepfather, my bishop and later the whole church. And God forgave.” She met his gaze, her voice trembling. “It’s His promise. If we confess our sins, He will be just and forgive us,” she said, quoting words she had heard her preacher speak many times. “I truly believe that.”