The Christmas Courtship

by Emma Miller

  “Go away,” she whispered when Adah nuzzled her with her cold nose. “Shoo!” The dog dropped down beside her and she patted her head, actually glad for the company. She sighed and looked out into the empty barnyard.

  She had told Joshua she’d return to her mother’s house, to Edom’s house, but he was right, she couldn’t do that. Edom would never take her in again, and even if he was willing to take her, it wouldn’t be safe. Not for John-John and certainly not for her. He’d already tried to take her son away from her once. What would prevent him from trying it again?

  Taking deep breaths to calm herself, she tried hard to think. She really couldn’t stay here now and see Joshua every day. It would be too hard for him, too hard for her. And it wouldn’t be the right thing to do to John-John. He was already so attached to Joshua. Leaving now would be hard enough.

  Hugging herself for warmth, she leaned against the side of the house. Inside, she could hear the muffled voices of Tara and Nettie. She couldn’t tell what they were saying, but they were laughing. They had no idea that her life had just crumbled to pieces. And they wouldn’t know, because she could keep it from them.

  She just needed a plan. She needed a place to go.

  But who would have her? She couldn’t go to Lovey. That wouldn’t be fair to the family and it wouldn’t be a clean break from Joshua.

  Then it came to her and she knew instantly what the solution was. She dried her eyes with a clean bit of her apron. She was sure she would be able to borrow a buggy for a short time. She’d clean up and take the buggy and go, now before she weakened. Now while she still had the emotional strength to do it.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Joshua couldn’t find Phoebe, he decided to take a walk to the orchard and back to calm down and get his head on straight. He was so upset, so angry, so hurt and sad that he didn’t know what to do about any of this mess. Hands deep in his denim pants pocket, he strode head down into the wind.

  How had everything gone so wrong so quickly? He had woken this morning so happy, so excited about his future, his and Phoebe’s. And now all those plans seemed to be falling apart right in front of him. Joshua knew he needed to do something, he just didn’t know what. He didn’t know how to get Phoebe to agree to marry him. He didn’t know what to do with his anger with his father. He respected his father so much that he had always hoped he could be just half the man his father was, half the father, half the husband. He could hardly believe that had been his father, the man he loved and admired, standing there in his shop forbidding him to marry the woman he loved.

  Joshua walked all the way to the rear of the property, beyond the old orchard, to the acre of land his father had promised to give him when he married someday. He’d already started planning the layout of the house he would build for himself and Phoebe and John, and the children he hoped God would bless them with. His dream to own a greenhouse and shop, marry Phoebe and live here in Hickory Grove had been so close he had practically tasted it.

  And now his dream was in shambles.

  The bitter wind found its way down the back of his coat, making him shiver, and he turned around to head back toward the shop. He needed to get back to work. Bay was probably wondering where he was, annoyed that he’d left in the middle of his shift. For all he knew, Lee Bontrager was still waiting to hear the verdict on his harness.

  Joshua flipped up the collar of his coat, pulled his knit cap down farther over his ears and, head down again, put one foot in front of the other. What now? he kept asking himself over and over again. What now? Did he wait for Phoebe to calm down and then try to talk to her again? Did he try to get a hold of his uncle and find out if there was a job for him in New York and then try to talk to Phoebe? His uncle had a phone at the mill because he had Englisher customers, too. Maybe if Joshua went to Phoebe with a job in hand, she might agree to marry him and move to New York. Joshua definitely preferred Delaware over New York, but right now he’d live anywhere on the planet to be with Phoebe.

  In ordinary circumstances, if he had a problem, his father was the person he would have gone to. His father was good about offering advice without making a man feel foolish, even when he’d done or said a foolish thing. His father had always been the person who had been there for him when he was a child and later had helped him navigate the world of a young Amish man. His father was always a good listener and he always had sound advice to offer.

  So, who did Joshua go to now? Now, when it was his father who was the cause of his problem? Sure, Phoebe had said she wouldn’t marry him, but that was because of his father. And as much as he hated to admit it, he understood what Phoebe was saying. He understood where she was coming from because of the difficult life she had led. He didn’t agree with her, because he would leave his family if it meant being able to marry her. It would hurt him, but he was willing to do it. Maybe because, in time, he knew his father would come around. Even welcome them home to Hickory Grove, he suspected. Or at least he hoped that was what would happen.

  But Phoebe was a stubborn woman. That was one thing he’d learned early on about her. She never gave up on a task, no matter how hard it was. Her determination was endless. It was how she’d been able to get through the death of the man she had loved, through being a single mother. And once she set her mind on something, she was hard to budge.

  He exhaled, and clouds of white formed in front of his face and rose above his head before dissipating. He desperately needed advice, but he didn’t know to who to go to. His older brother Ethan, maybe? Ethan was a good man. Like their father, he was wise in most circumstances, but Joshua didn’t like the idea of going to him with a problem of the heart. The loss of his wife was still too raw. Joshua didn’t want to be the cause of additional pain.

  Did he go to Bishop Simon? Did he tell him what his father had said and maybe ask him to intervene? It seemed like a reasonable option, but would that be right to do? Wouldn’t that, in a way, be tattling on his father? Was it his place as a son to tell their bishop that Benjamin Miller wasn’t following the word of God as it was meant to be?

  Joshua kicked a rotten, half-frozen apple as he walked through the overgrown orchard. The old apple- and pear-tree branches hung over his head, bare and skeletal. How, he wondered, could he have been so happy only a few hours ago and now so miserable. How could things have gone so wrong?

  After Phoebe had told him she wouldn’t marry him, she’d run off. When he heard her crying, he’d gone after her to comfort her, to try to talk some sense into her. But he hadn’t been able to find her. She’d been at the top of the cellar steps one moment, the next she was gone. He’d looked for her but to no avail. Tara and Nettie said they hadn’t seen her since she went to the cellar and he’d made a quick escape from the kitchen.

  By now, he imagined Phoebe would be back in the kitchen helping to prepare supper. Like him, maybe she’d just needed a few minutes alone to collect herself. Now that he had better control of his emotions, maybe they could talk about their situation. There had to be a way to be together. If she didn’t want to go to New York, maybe he could find a job here in Kent County. He knew an Amish man, Gideon Esch, who owned a scrapple and sausage shop in Dover. He was expanding his business, and every time Joshua went in to pick up an order for Rosemary, Gideon offered him a job. Joshua didn’t know anything about sausage making, but he was sure he could learn.

  He crammed his hands deeper into his pockets. If his father couldn’t approve his marriage, he’d marry Phoebe without his approval and just gain it later. His father was too sensible a man to let this get between them for any length of time. Joshua was sure of it. But he had to convince Phoebe of that.

  Joshua was just entering the barnyard when he heard a horse and buggy coming up the lane toward the house. He looked up to see Rosemary approaching in one of the large family buggies, Jesse peeking out of the front window. Slowly he walked toward them as she reined in the horse. When she c
ame to a stop, she opened the door.

  “I’ll put her up for you,” Joshua offered, catching Toby’s halter with his fingers. He was always surprised when Rosemary took his father’s gelding out instead of one of the quieter horses. Toby was good with a buggy, smart, but he could get frisky at a stop sign and he was a horse that liked speed. He wasn’t the kind of horse most women would choose. But then Rosemary wasn’t most women, was she?

  “Have a good visit with Lovey?” he asked her, trying to hide the myriad of emotions he was feeling at that moment.

  Jesse jumped out of the buggy, slammed the door and took off across the barnyard for the house.

  Rosemary glanced Jesse’s way, then back at Joshua. “Bathroom. I keep telling the boy to tend to his business before he gets in the buggy.” She shook her head. “I’m not pulling over on the side of the road for him. Not safe. Not with how fast those cars go. Come on with you,” she called into the buggy, putting out her arms.

  First she lowered James to the ground, then Josiah, then lastly John-John. Joshua hadn’t realized John-John had gone visiting with them. He was beginning to really take to the family and he fit in so well. He was so sweet to James and Josiah, protective of them and always kind. To have Joshua lose this family now would be such a blow to him.

  “Josh,” John-John called, though it came out sounding something like Shosh.

  “John-John,” Joshua said, emotion welling up in his throat. He swallowed hard.

  Rosemary looked at Joshua and then at Phoebe’s son. “Take the boys inside, John. That’s it. Follow Jesse.” She pointed toward the back door. “Josiah’s just getting over his cold. I don’t want him out here with it being so raw.”

  “Bye!” John-John called to Joshua, throwing up one hand covered with a blue mitten.

  “See you later,” Joshua responded in turn in English. John-John’s English was coming along so well. He was so smart and such a fast learner.

  Rosemary and Joshua both watched the boys toddle off, headed for the back door. Instead of following them, though, Rosemary came around to Joshua.

  “You asked me how our visit at Lovey’s was. It was nice.” Beneath her chin, she tightened the black wool scarf she wore. “That Marshall, he’s a good man. A good husband. Made a cradle for the babe who will be here in no time. Nice as I’ve ever seen. Properly Plain, of course, but still beautiful.”

  Joshua nodded and stroked Toby’s nose, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He didn’t know if Rosemary had heard the catch in his voice when he’d spoken to John-John, but why else would she be standing here looking at him the way she was. Ordinarily, she would have gone in with the boys.

  Joshua cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with his stepmother. “I should... I’ll get Toby put up and give him a scoop of grain. Then back to the shop. Cold out here. I can’t tell if it’s going to snow or rain. Both maybe.”

  Rosemary was looking right at him. She nodded, but she made no move toward the house. She just stood there.

  “Well...” he finally said, tightening his fingers around the horse’s halter.

  “Ne, not so fast, Joshua.” Rosemary laid her hand on Toby’s neck and gave him a pat. “Ordinarily, I’d let you hem and haw another few minutes, but it’s too cold out here to wait on a Miller man. So out with it. I’ve things to get done in the house.”

  Joshua looked at her, startled. “Out with what?”

  “How long have I known you, Joshua? Since you came into this world. I still remember walking into your mother’s kitchen to see her wearing you on her front, with Jacob on her back, tied up with cloth. Wearing you the way English women wear their babies. You were always a sensitive one, even then.” She looked up at him with her green eyes that seemed sometimes to be all-knowing. “Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”

  He lowered his head. “I...I’m fine.”

  She sighed. “Ah, a disagreement with Phoebe? I see it, you know. We all do. You like her. Truth be told, I think she’s as sweet on you as you are on her.”

  To Joshua’s embarrassment, his eyes suddenly got watery. He wiped at them with his sleeve. If he lost Phoebe, he didn’t know what he would do. He’d be lost. Lost forever, maybe.

  “Not Phoebe,” he heard himself say. “Yes, Phoebe, but... Dat. Dat’s the problem,” he finally managed.

  “Your father?” She sounded surprised. “You’ve had a disagreement with him? About what?”

  For a moment, he hesitated. He liked Rosemary, ne, he loved her. He loved her because she loved his father, and because she treated Joshua and his brothers as if they were her own. He loved her because he knew, even though she’d never said so, that she loved him. But he had never talked to her about anything personal like this. Not about something so close to his heart. And he was so emotional right now that he didn’t know that he wanted to. What if he actually cried? He’d never be able to face her again.

  “Come out with it,” she said quietly. “You’ll feel better once you do. And you know I’ll hear about it soon enough from your father. We don’t keep things from each other.”

  He slowly lifted his gaze until it met hers, then he told her the whole story standing right there in the barnyard. And when he was done, she pointed at him sternly.

  “Men,” she muttered. “All right, let’s go.” She hooked her thumb in the direction of the lane.

  “Go where?”

  “To your father, of course. I’ll not have this at my table nor in my house. So put up Toby and let’s go see him now.” She smiled kindly. “Together, sohn.”

  * * *

  Not ten minutes later, Joshua stood at his father’s closed workshop door again, this time with Rosemary at his side.

  She rapped impatiently on the door with her knuckles. “Benjamin!”

  “Rosemary?” he called from the other side of the door.

  Joshua heard the sounds of a flurry of activity behind the door. He was hiding the Christmas gift, no doubt.

  “What are you doing with the door closed?” She glanced at Joshua and then back at the door. “May I come in, husband?”

  “Of course, Rosebud.”

  “Joshua’s with me,” she added, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “We’re here to speak with you.”

  His father’s heavy footsteps were followed by the door swinging open. Benjamin pulled off his glasses. “You’re home from Lovey’s.”

  “I don’t have time for casual talk, Benjamin. I’ve supper to get ready.” She strode into the shop, which, to Joshua’s knowledge, she had never entered since they’d bought the property. Like her sewing room was her domain, the workshop was his father’s.

  Benjamin backed up and Joshua was surprised to see that the look on his father’s face was one of apprehension. It wasn’t that he seemed afraid of his wife, only...uneasy.

  Inside the workshop, standing between a buggy wheel set in a vise and the chair waiting to be repaired, Rosemary took up residence. She raised her hands to her hips and planted her feet squarely. “Joshua told me about your discussion and I have to say, Benjamin, I’d never want to side against you, you being the head of the family and all. Fact is, you and I rarely disagree, but I have to say—” she looked at him sternly “—you’re flat-out wrong on this matter.”

  “Rosemary.” Joshua’s father sounded hurt, and Joshua suddenly felt bad for telling Rosemary about the conversation.

  “Ben, you know I love you. Which means I have to tell you when you’re wrong, the same as you need to tell me when I’m wrong. And I know as the head of the household, you’re meant to be our spiritual leader. And you do a fine job of it. You’ve got a good head for God’s words, but on this one...” She shook her head as if he was one of the little boys who had done something naughty. “You’re flat-out wrong. That girl confessed her sin and she was granted forgiveness. It’s plain as day. ‘He that covereth his sins shall not pros
per: but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy,’” she quoted from the Bible.

  “Rosemary—” Benjamin said.

  “‘Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity, and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage?’” Rosemary went on, quoting another verse. “‘He retaineth not his anger forever, because he delighteth in mercy.’”

  Joshua’s eyes widened in amazement. He knew few men besides his father who could quote word for word from the Bible. He wasn’t sure he knew any woman who could quote much more than a few lines of psalms. It just wasn’t something that was necessary. They had their preachers and bishops to quote from the good book.

  “Rosebud,” Benjamin said, his voice faltering.

  She waggled her finger at him. “And the best one I can think of, Benjamin Miller? ‘Forgive and you shall be forgiven’!”

  Benjamin hung his head and Joshua felt terrible.

  “Dat, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Ne,” his father interrupted. “I’m the one to apologize.” He exhaled heavily. “To you. And to you as well, Rosemary. I’ve disappointed you.”

  She walked over and hugged him. Joshua’s father wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist. Joshua stared at the floor, feeling immensely uncomfortable and, at the same time, pleased that his father and stepmother could express their feelings for each other like this. Just when Joshua was beginning to wonder if he should leave them alone, Rosemary let go of her husband and stepped back.

  “I’m not disappointed in you. It’s not always easy to practice what we believe, Ben,” Rosemary said, looking up at him. “I struggle every day. We all do.”

  “But this.” Benjamin shook his head. “You know everything, I suppose?” he asked her.