She’d survived this past week by staying too busy to feel sorry for herself. She’d felt Mamm’s silent disapproval of all the hours she’d spent in the kitchen, but she hadn’t allowed her mother’s attitude to stop her. Without any hope of seeing Michael all winter—or maybe ever again, if the Wengerds decided to pull out of The Marketplace—Jo had needed something worthwhile to focus on.
With Christmas only four days away, she should be preparing her heart for the celebration of Jesus’ birth. But it was impossible to feel anything resembling joy when she was overwhelmed by Mamm’s negativity.
Jo sighed, glancing at the stack of pans on the back counter. Her quiet time was backfiring as she picked at the scab of the love Mamm had so cruelly ripped from her life. She stood up. Better to wash dishes than to sit stewing over happiness that would never—
“Psst! Hey there, Jo—can I come in?”
Her heart leaped at the sound of Michael’s whispered question. He was standing in the Helfings’ store, about a foot away, peering at her between the wall’s slats.
His smile was hesitant. “When I saw your CLOSED sign, I thought maybe you’d already left—”
“No, come in—come in!” Jo insisted.
As Michael made his way out of the noodle shop, Jo wondered why she was leaving herself open for more heartache. Whatever he had to say, nothing would come of it. Yet she felt fluttery with the anticipation of seeing him again, even if it was only for a few moments—and even if the Shetler twins would soon be returning with their empty treat trays.
“It’s so gut to see you, Michael,” Jo murmured as he made his way past her empty display cases. She motioned him toward the back, where they could talk without being seen from the commons area. “After the way Mamm treated you and your dat, I figured you wouldn’t want anything more to do with me—”
“Seriously?” Michael’s brow furrowed. “Then you have a lot to learn about me, Jo. Did you think I’d give up on everything you and I shared while you were at our place just because your mother disapproved of it?”
Jo’s jaw dropped. His tone sounded firm and absolutely sincere. His gray-blue eyes remained focused on her, as though he never wanted to look at anyone else.
After a moment, he reached for her hand. “Would it be all right to call you every now and again while Dat and I stay in Queen City over the winter?”
It was a wonderful idea—his calls would give her something to look forward to. But they both knew she’d have no guarantee of privacy.
“If you leave me a message on the machine—or set a time when you’ll call, so I can be waiting in the phone shanty—Mamm will catch on,” Jo pointed out. “Or if she gets to the shanty first to see if we have orders for baked goods, she’ll hear your message and delete it, most likely.”
Michael nodded. “I thought that’s what you’d say. So what if I wrote to you instead?”
Her heart quivered at the thought of receiving—and returning—letters that would help them get better acquainted over the winter, despite being apart. Then she envisioned Mamm’s reaction. “I—I would love to hear from you, Michael,” she replied softly. “I can’t keep you from writing, after all—”
“But sometimes your mamm gets the mail, right? And she’ll give you no end of grief if she sees my letters.”
Jo nodded glumly. “I could be sure to get to the mailbox first and hide your letters in a secret place,” she suggested. “But if Mamm found them, there’d be no end to her fussing about how we’d once again defied her wishes.”
He sighed, but then his expression became a mixture of determination and affection that stole her breath away.
And suddenly he was kissing her.
Jo was so startled, she didn’t have time to worry about whether she was responding the right way with her mouth or had placed her hands in the right spots. Michael had cupped her face with his warm palm—probably so she wouldn’t pull away because she feared they’d be caught. As he pressed his lips over hers, she felt overwhelmed by warmth and joy and a dazzling sense of daring. Displays of public affection were frowned upon by the Amish church—
And who could’ve anticipated a nice, polite guy like Michael Wengerd flinging caution to the wind so he could kiss me this way, right here in the shop?
When he eased away, he held her gaze for several long, delicious moments. Michael’s eyes shone with a fervor Jo hadn’t seen before. A smile softened his handsome face.
“I couldn’t stay away for the next few months without letting you know exactly how I feel—because your mother’s response to me has nothing to do with what we share,” he whispered.
Jo blinked. “Jah, I guess you’re right.”
“You know I’m right,” he countered softly. “So think about that while we’re apart. I’m not saying gut-bye, Jo. I say keep believing. Jesus told Thomas that folks who can believe without seeing are blessed—and we will be, too, if we focus on what we know and feel even if we can’t see each other for a while.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“Gut! When you’re thinking about me and what I’ve said—and thinking about how well suited we are for each other—you’re not letting your mother’s negativity rule your life, jah? No disrespect intended,” he added quickly.
As his words sank in, Jo felt better than she had for days. “That’s a gut way to look at it,” she admitted.
At the sound of the Shetler twins’ voices, Michael glanced toward the bakery doorway before focusing on Jo again. “Merry, merry Christmas, Jo,” he whispered. “We’ll be together in our hearts until we’re together again in person.”
As he made his way out of her shop kitchen, she turned toward the refrigerators to compose herself. While Michael spoke to Alice and Adeline for a few moments, Jo took some deep breaths. She couldn’t yet contemplate all she’d just heard—but hadn’t Michael given her more than enough food for thought to nourish her soul through the coming months?
She turned quickly. “Merry Christmas, Michael!” she called out as he was leaving. “God bless you—and give my best to your dat!”
His slender face glowed like the serene flame of a candle in a window. Michael blew her a kiss, and then he stepped out into the crowded commons.
It was a moment Jo knew she’d remember forever—the moment when hope filled her heart with love, just as the birth of Jesus had brought hope to the world centuries ago. Somehow, peace and joy and the strong promise of Michael’s intentions would sustain her until she saw him again.
For no matter what her mother wanted, Jo would see Michael again.
Chapter 24
Late Monday morning, as he and Gabe finished sweeping up at the new house, Glenn wished he felt more excited. The cream-colored walls around him glowed, the woodwork was as flawless as he could make it, and the front room still smelled of the stain on the newly installed hardwood floors. Any other man would surely be ecstatic: his previous home had burned down only three weeks ago, yet with the help of his friends, the Detweilers had a new roof over their heads.
What a blessing it was to live among folks who’d taken such good care of him and his family. What a gift, to be standing in his new, completed home on the twenty-third of December.
Dorcas never said so—never complained—but she would’ve been deliriously happy to have these fresh walls and the new appliances and flooring. Not to mention windows that closed tight and cabinets that didn’t still contain some of her in-laws’ belongings after all these years.
Thoughts of his deceased wife made Glenn’s throat tighten. During his counseling sessions with the bishop, Jeremiah had warned him that Christmas would be tough this year without his wife and his mamm. Tough didn’t even begin to cover it, however.
Gabe’s concerned voice broke through Glenn’s darkening thoughts. “You okay, buddy?” he asked kindly. “Can I help you with anything else before I go?”
“Sorry. Just thinking how much Mamm and D
orcas would’ve loved this place,” he murmured. “I’m having one of those moments the bishop warned me about.”
“I’m sure you’ve had more than your share of such moments over the past few months,” Gabe remarked with a nod. “I can’t imagine how lonely you must feel at times. And I’m sorry, Glenn.”
Glenn waved him off. “I know that. Didn’t intend to turn this into a pity party, Gabe—and what would I have done without your help?” he added emphatically. “You’ve given my house so much of your time lately, at the expense of your work at the furniture factory. I’ll never be able to repay—”
“Oh, never say never,” Gabe insisted, slipping his arm around Glenn’s shoulders. “Every one of us hits some rough patches in this life. You might get your turn helping me out of a bind any time, without warning. I know you’ll be there for me, too, Glenn.”
Glenn nodded, trying to focus on the positive gifts he’d received recently.
But their footsteps and voices echoed as they gave the upstairs floors a final sweeping. And as he and Gabe walked down the steps, their boots clattering on the freshly stained wood, Glenn felt as empty as the rooms they’d just cleaned. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of this shiny-new place as home.
When Gabe pronounced their cleaning finished, he leaned the broom in the corner of the mudroom. “Planning to work in your wood shop the rest of the day?” he asked as he put on his heavy coat and stocking cap. “From what I saw of your shelves at The Marketplace on Saturday, your inventory’s pretty well depleted.”
“It is,” Glenn agreed. “But since we’re not going to be open for the next two Saturdays, I thought I’d go visit Pete. To hear Jeremiah tell it, he’s driving his mammi crazy with his complaints and demands.”
Gabe’s laughter echoed in the kitchen. “I’m not surprised. Pete can’t sit still for more than five minutes at a time, so he’ll be trying everyone’s patience during his recuperation at home. I’m sure he—and Margaret—will be glad to see you. Give them my best.”
Nodding absently, Glenn watched through the mudroom window as his friend jogged across the backyard to the stable. A few minutes later, Gabe was driving his buggy toward the road—probably in a hurry to share a cozy lunch with Regina in their Craftsman-style bungalow across town.
Glenn stood in the middle of the kitchen, aware of how cavernous it seemed without the table he and his family had eaten at since he was a boy. A swift vision of Marietta standing at the stove made him blink. Her rejection still stung. So many times he’d felt better while he’d imagined her cooking and redding up in this room—but that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. If ever.
Why would she want to live here? We don’t have any dishes or beds or rugs—no place to sit in the front room, and no towels to use when we step out of the shower.
Glenn grimaced. He and Pete and Gabe hadn’t balked for a minute at choosing the new stove, fridge, deep freeze, and washing machine, but he had no idea about buying towels or bed linens—and he certainly couldn’t sew curtains for all the windows. This new place needed a woman’s touch—
Oh, but I need a woman’s touch, too!
Recalling how good he’d felt when he’d slung his arm around Marietta’s slender shoulders and sat close to her on the sofa only made Glenn feel more depressed. She’d made it clear she didn’t want him. She believed his heart wasn’t yet ready to choose a new wife.
Marietta’s better off right where she is. She doesn’t need a husband—doesn’t need me—and she knows it.
A sad, bitter laugh escaped him. The walls rang with the sound, mocking him, so Glenn left the house. It felt good to slam the door loudly behind him, even though that was a juvenile response to his loneliness. As he entered the stable, he told himself he’d better adjust his attitude so he’d be in a better frame of mind when he reached the bishop’s place for his visit with Pete.
Glenn bridled Ned and hopped on him bareback for the short trip to Jeremiah’s place. He hoped Margaret would invite him to stay for the noon meal so he wouldn’t have to eat with Molly, Marietta, and his dat. The food at the Helfing place didn’t taste nearly as good now that Marietta had said she wasn’t going to marry him.
* * *
“There goes Glenn, just like Jeremiah planned,” Molly said gleefully. From behind the windbreak of evergreens along Howard Gibbs’s lane, where she and Marietta sat in their loaded rig, they watched the dark-haired carpenter canter past, completely unaware of their presence. “Pete did us a big favor by coming home from the hospital when he did.”
“And aren’t we glad that Reuben agreed to watch the baby while we, um, ran a few holiday errands?” Marietta put in with a chuckle. “Let’s get over to Glenn’s and unload our stuff quickly, in case he takes a notion to eat a late lunch at our house after visiting at the bishop’s place. We don’t want him to suspect that anything’s going on.”
“I’d like to be a fly on the wall when Glenn discovers a houseful of furniture that wasn’t there when he left!” Molly said, urging Opal toward the road.
It wasn’t long before they saw other members of their congregation driving their rigs and wagons toward the new Detweiler house. Gabe, who’d ridden to the Hartzler place to signal everyone who’d been waiting there, arrived just ahead of his dat, who was driving the Flaud Furniture delivery wagon. Saul Hartzler pulled into the lane ahead of Molly, hauling a trailer loaded with more furniture. Within minutes, the yard behind the new white house was abuzz with excited friends, all of them bringing household items for Glenn and his family.
“Come on in!” Bishop Jeremiah called out as he propped the back door open. “If we follow the plan we discussed when I visited with each of you this past week, it shouldn’t take long to put everything in place. And denki ahead of time for your kindness and generosity.”
“If anyone’s due for a big favor, it’s Glenn,” Martha Maude said as she flung open the back panels of the Hartlzers’ rig.
She looked toward her son, who’d pulled in behind her. “How about if you men carry the bedroom furniture upstairs first?” Martha Maude suggested. “Then we women can make the beds and hang the towels up there while you work downstairs.”
Saul laughed good-naturedly at his mother’s directive. “Your wish is our command, Mamm,” he teased. “I’ve got Glenn’s bedroom set in my trailer. Let’s start with that one, as it’s the heaviest.”
Matthias Wagler, Tim Nissley, Preacher Clarence Miller, and Jude Shetler made a beeline toward Saul’s trailer. Soon they were carrying the bedsprings and frame into the house, while Gabe and Jeremiah hefted the matching dresser between them. Molly and Marietta carried the boxes of bedding they’d accumulated over the past few weeks. Rose Wagler, Julia Nissley, Regina, and Cora Miller entered the house with rag rugs, curtain panels, towels, and other linens. Martha Maude and Anne toted bins loaded with nonperishable groceries, while Delores Flaud and Jo were providing dishes, pots, and cooking utensils.
“This is so much fun!” Molly said as she and her sister went up the stairs with some of the other women. As they paused in the hallway, waiting for the men to finish setting up Glenn’s bed, she leaned closer to Marietta.
“Say the word to Glenn, and you could be living here,” she whispered. “Not every bride has a house that’s brand-spanking-new.”
Marietta’s eyebrows shot up. “Puh! By the time Pete finishes remodeling our place, I’m thinking it’ll be better than new,” she said without missing a beat. “But jah, this is an amazing house—especially considering how quickly it came together.”
A few moments later the men went downstairs for more furniture, and the women entered Glenn’s bedroom. The Hartzlers hung the crisp white curtains they’d sewn, along with panels of deep blue at the sides of each window. Rose arranged an oval rag rug on either side of the bed, in shades of blue and green. Other women went into the big upstairs bathroom to put away towels and arrange rugs and curtains in there. Because each neighbor had agreed ahead of time to p
rovide specific items, they worked together seamlessly.
In just a couple of hours, the new Detweiler home was put together—including food in the pantry, the fridge, and the deep freeze. Jo had even hung a greenery wreath on the front door, and she’d placed a deep red poinsettia on the kitchen table.
“These are from the Wengerds,” she explained. “When Nelson and Michael heard about our surprise for Glenn, they wanted to be part of it.”
“And here’s a Christmas card to go with it,” Molly put in as she pulled a sealed red envelope from her pocket. “Marietta and I thought he should know we’re all wishing him well in his new place.”
Bishop Jeremiah had been making a final pass through the rooms, and when he joined everyone else in the kitchen, his face was alight with joy. “Friends, while we’re gathered here, let’s bless this house, shall we?” he suggested.
Molly and everyone around her bowed their heads eagerly. It was a rare privilege to provide a new home and its contents for a friend in need, and because Christmas was only two days away, the occasion felt even more special.
“Dear Lord, we thank You for the opportunity to help the Detweilers, and we ask Your blessings on them as they take up residence here,” the bishop intoned in a resonant voice. “Be in every board and bedspread, every item we’ve placed here for their use, so that Glenn, Reuben, Billy Jay, and little Levi will know how much we love them—and how much You love them—every moment they’re in this home. We ask it in Your name, in the spirit of that most perfect gift You gave us in Your Son. Amen.”
Amens echoed around the room.
“I’ll see you all tomorrow evening for the Christmas Eve program at the schoolhouse,” Bishop Jeremiah said as folks prepared to leave. “Lydianne tells me the scholars have been working hard on their recitations, so it’s sure to be a wonderful-gut way to welcome the Christ Child into our hearts again.”
As Molly and her sister headed toward the buggies with everyone else, she nudged her sister with her elbow. “How long do you think it’ll be before Glenn finds his surprise? Are you going to give any hints about it at supper?”
Christmas Comes to Morning Star Page 21
