The Cousin (Doris's Christmas Story Book 1)

by Brenda Maxfield

He suddenly felt eager for the evening to come. The youth—meaning all the unmarried Amish over fourteen years old—would meet later in the early evening in this same barn for a time of singing and fellowship. That was when he’d make his move.

  Chapter Twelve

  Doris held up her hand mirror and gazed at herself. Her eyes were darker than usual, and they looked tired. In fact, she looked tired.

  Well, she was.

  Worrying about Jordan was taking its toll. And Matthew’s weirdness lately didn’t help matters. She always counted on Matthew to keep her balanced. She couldn’t remember how many times over the years a simple word from him had brought her back to herself. She tried to do the same thing for him. But lately, he only added to her turmoil.

  And she did feel turmoil. She understood why Jordan would want to wait till he could talk to her in person to explain things—it made sense. But she didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.

  She put down the mirror and sighed. Soon. He was coming home soon.

  And in the meantime, she was doing her best to act normally so her mother would quit hovering and worrying. That was the main reason Doris was going to the youth singing that night. She didn’t really want to go, but it would help set her mother’s mind at rest. And she knew her mother would be hoping and praying that some other young man would catch Doris’s eye.

  Stuart was taking the buggy and all of her siblings were going, so Doris would hitch a ride, too. She smiled vaguely, wondering whether Kara would be totally preoccupied with Mark Lapp that evening—not that her sister would actually do anything about it. But she’d be looking, that was for sure and for certain.

  Doris remembered when Jordan was there and attended the singings. In truth, he didn’t like them much, but he went to see her. And he always took her home. Doris touched her lips and smiled fondly. Those had been nice times, and she’d thought they wouldn’t end for a long while. But then, she hadn’t counted on Jordan stealing a car.

  Why had he done it?

  And there it was again, ever circling in her mind. She shuddered and shook her head. Dwelling on it forever did no good at all. It only made her anxious and cranky.

  So. Tonight, she was going to be light and amusing and pleasant. She picked up her mirror again and gave herself a stern look. “You hear that?” she asked aloud. “You’re going to be the nicest girl there tonight. You know full well that Kara and Sally are going to report to Mamm.”

  She put the mirror down. She smoothed her hair once more and left her room, running down the stairs as she knew everyone else was already bundled up and ready to go.

  Once they arrived at the Millers, Stuart and Peter saw to Gallant. Doris and Sally and Kara hurried inside, eager to be out of the cold. The barn was already quite crowded, as they were some of the last to arrive. Doris scanned the crowd, looking for Matthew. She spotted him amidst of group of guys. They were laughing and joking about something. Matthew’s handsome face was animated, and Doris was glad. Too often lately, he’d looked serious and downright upset. It was good to see him smile.

  Kara tugged on the edge of Doris’s cape. “Mark ain’t here,” she whispered, sounding in a panic. Doris surveyed the group once more.

  “There,” she whispered back, gesturing with her head. “He’s over there.”

  Kara followed her gesture, and Doris sensed her relax fully at the sight of him. She looked at her sister’s face, saw the complete adoration in her eyes. She has it bad, Doris realized. She prayed Mark would offer to give Kara a ride home that night.

  Josh Miller clapped his hands, and everyone got settled in their spots. Sometimes, during the singings, they organized themselves at long tables, the boys on one side and the girls on the other. But that night, everyone sat around in clusters on bales of hay. Doris preferred it that way, it seemed more relaxed and natural like—even though the genders were still separated.

  She couldn’t help but watch Matthew. He was sitting at the far edge of the guys, so she could barely see him. He seemed to be focusing on something in particular, but from her vantage point, she wasn’t sure what. Maybe she’d have the chance to chat with him during the refreshment time.

  The singing began. It was always fun when Joshua Miller led it, because he chose the liveliest hymns. Despite her reticence in going, Doris found herself thoroughly enjoying the music. At times, she even closed her eyes and lost herself in the beauty of the lyrics and melody. Next to her, Sally was belting out the words, her strong voice drowning out those around them. One time, Doris had urged her to tone it down, but Sally had looked so surprised and then so hurt that Doris had never mentioned it again.

  On her other side, Kara was barely singing. Doris suppressed a smile. Her poor sister could barely concentrate with Mark Lapp only a few yards away.

  They ended the singing with a silent prayer of gratitude for their time together and also for the food that had been provided. Sally jumped up immediately to join her group of friends. Kara dawdled a bit, likely gauging her approach to the refreshments table to coincide with Mark’s.

  Doris looked around for Matthew but didn’t immediately see him in the crowd. She went ahead to the tables laden with food and helped herself to a sandwich and some cut-up veggies. She looked up to see Stuart heading straight for her.

  “Can you find another way home?” her brother asked. “I, uh, I need the buggy to myself.”

  Doris’s brow rose. “Oh?” she questioned, wondering what girl he’d just offered to take home.

  “Jah. Can you find a ride? Peter is going with Jacob, and Sally will hitch a ride with her friends—I don’t know which ones. And Kara?” He craned his neck and Doris followed his gaze to see Kara standing beside Mark, who was talking to her. Doris’s heart leapt with joy. Maybe Kara was getting her dearest wish that very moment.

  “Of course,” Doris assured him. “I can hitch a ride with Matthew, I’m sure. Go ahead with your plans.” She nudged him in the side with her elbow and gave him a knowing grin.

  He smiled back and then slipped into the crowd.

  “Hi Doris,” May Miller said, joining her. Joshua’s younger sister was a female version of him—the same tall height, the same strong nose, the same cleft chin.

  “Hi May.”

  “A gut singing, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I would say so, indeed.”

  “Does your family have any plans for Christmas?”

  “The usual. A huge dinner and a few gifts. How about yours?”

  May tilted her head, her thick eyebrows raising only slightly. “The same. Well, I’m helping with the school’s Christmas program, but other than that, the same.”

  “I’m looking forward to the program,” Doris said. Which she was. The recitations and dramatic readings were always a highlight of the season. The schoolchildren looked forward to performing every year, knowing how well-received they would be.

  “Well, I’ll see you around,” May said.

  Doris nodded and May left.

  * * *

  Matthew was painfully aware of Doris’s presence that evening. In truth, he was surprised she was there. Without Jordan, he figured she wouldn’t come. But he was glad she had, except that he had other things to think about. He’d practiced offering Annie a ride home all afternoon, which was completely stupid, he knew. Still, a guy never knew if he was going to be rejected or not, so a polished approach seemed wiser.

  After Doris’s continual rejections—if he could fairly call her indifference to him a rejection—Matthew didn’t know if he could take another one right then.

  Annie was standing with only one other girl. If he timed it right, he could get her attention and pull her away long enough to ask her. He meandered closer until he could almost hear what they were talking about. And then, he got his break. The other girl stepped away to get something to drink.

  He made his move.

  “Hello, Annie.”

  She turned her startling blue eyes to his. “Oh. Hello, Matthew.”
>
  “Cold night, ain’t so?”

  After a flicker of confusion at his comment, she smiled. “Jah. Right cold.”

  “We have a heater in our buggy.” Oh, good grief. This wasn’t how he planned this.

  “Um, that’s nice.”

  “So, we don’t, um, we don’t feel the cold so much, you know.” What had happened to his carefully rehearsed lines?

  “That’s nice,” she repeated.

  “Would you… Um, would you like a ride home? You’d be warm.” By this point, Matthew was so disgusted with himself, he could hardly remain standing before her.

  But then, she rewarded him with a beautiful smile. He’d never noticed before just how straight and white her teeth were. And her eyes practically danced when she smiled.

  “That’d be right nice,” she said in a rush.

  His breath caught at her warm response. So, he hadn’t messed it up after all.

  “Hi, Matthew. Hi, Annie.”

  They both turned abruptly to look at Doris. Matthew gawked at her. What was she doing? What did she want? Couldn’t she see that he was—

  “Can I talk to you for a moment, Matthew?” she asked.

  No. No. No. He didn’t want to talk to Doris. He didn’t want to interrupt his conversation with Annie, but she stood there expectantly, and he knew she wouldn’t leave until she spoke.

  “You can just tell me here,” he said, not moving.

  He glanced at Annie, and she looked a bit uncomfortable, but she, too, didn’t move.

  “Can I have a ride home tonight?” Doris asked, giving him a perplexed look. He understood her confusion. Before, he would have gladly left any conversation to speak with her. But not anymore. He couldn’t continue opening himself to Doris—couldn’t continue opening himself to the pain of loving her when he knew it was hopeless. He hadn’t been joking when he’d made his decision to go after Annie Hershberger.

  But, of course, Doris didn’t know that. Or his reasons for doing it.

  But something dawned in her eyes, and he knew she was remembering their conversation when he’d told her he was planning to court someone. Her brows raised, and she gave him a knowing look. At first, she looked pleased, as if she’d just discovered some wonderful morsel of information. But then, something else flashed in her eyes. Something like disappointment.

  Which made no sense at all.

  Unless… She knew something about Annie that he didn’t know. Was that it? No. Wait. He couldn’t base his actions on the opinion of Doris Glick anymore. He raised his chin as if daring her to interfere.

  “I, uh, I…” Doris appeared to be at a loss for words, which wasn’t like her at all.

  “Of course,” Annie said softly. “Of course, he’ll give you a ride home.” She looked up at Matthew with her wide, expressive eyes. “Cousins have to look after one another, ain’t so?” she continued, her voice like a melody.

  “But—” Matthew began.

  Annie touched his arm for only the briefest of seconds. “Maybe we can continue our conversation another time.”

  He smiled down at her. “Jah,” he said. “This week some evening?”

  Her eyes twinkled up at him. “Write me a letter, all right?”

  “I will…”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Doris stood there, wanting to drop through the barn floor—or kick something. A strange mixture of emotions surged through her. How embarrassing to be standing there while Matthew and Annie flirted with each other. Talk about feeling awkward.

  But then, it was her fault, wasn’t it? She was the one who had barged into their conversation. Matthew must have offered Annie a ride home. It was nice of Annie to defer to her. But now, Matthew would be giving Annie a ride some evening this week, which was infinitely more romantic.

  Matthew being romantic? The notion was both strange and unsettling. Not that he wasn’t capable. She’d just seen quite clearly that he was more than capable.

  But it bothered her.

  She looked at him and noted the irritation in his expression.

  “Sorry,” she said quickly.

  “Are you?” he asked, his voice thick with annoyance. “You knew full well what you were interrupting.”

  “Not at first, I didn’t,” she said, growing more and more upset. “How was I to know that you were flirting your heart out with Annie Hershberger?”

  He didn’t respond. He just stared at her until she relented.

  “All right. I really am sorry. I’ll find another way home. Why don’t you go back over and tell her the ride is back on?”

  He shook his head. “Nee. I’ll give you your ride. What happened to Stuart? Didn’t he bring all of you here?”

  “Some girl happened to Stuart is my guess,” she said.

  “Do your brothers and sisters need a ride home, too?”

  “Nee. They have rides.”

  “Why didn’t you hitch a ride with one of them?” he asked, and then seemed to realize the harshness of his question. He took a deep breath and muttered, “Sorry.”

  “Nee, you’re not. You’re only sorry because I interrupted what you had going on with Annie.”

  “Fine. It’s true.”

  “I’m sorry I asked you for help.”

  “Ach, nee you don’t. You don’t turn this into me not wanting to help you. I help you all the time.”

  Of course, he was right. She blew out her breath. “Fine. You’re right. Are you ready to go? Suddenly, this singing has lost all its appeal.”

  “That’s for sure and for certain,” he groused. “I’ll hitch up the buggy and be ready in a few minutes. Be out there.”

  Her nostrils flared. Be out there? What was this? Was he giving her orders now? She watched him leave the barn, a whoosh of frigid air rushing in as he went out. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Kara, still chatting with Mark Lapp. They looked downright besotted with each other.

  Goodness, why couldn’t her life be as easy as that?

  * * *

  Matthew was silent all the way to Doris’s house. He tugged up on the reins in front of her porch to let her out.

  “Thank you, Matthew. And I am sorry,” she said, speaking truthfully. The ride home had given her some time to think, and she had been rotten to Matthew. Presumptuous and then testy. She had reacted badly to the thought of him with Annie Hershberger. The thing was, Annie was a lovely girl. Sweet, kind, loyal, and faithful to their way of life. Matthew would do well with her.

  So, why wasn’t she happy? Doris should be overjoyed with his choice.

  “Annie is a really nice girl,” she said. “I think you make a right nice couple.” The words nearly left grooves up her throat, but she said them.

  Matthew’s shoulders immediately relaxed. “Do you think so?”

  “I do think so. I’m happy for you, Matthew.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, and even in the dim moonlight seeping into the buggy, she could see the intensity of his gaze. And then, he gave a small shudder.

  “Thank you, Doris. That means a lot.”

  She had a sudden urge to cry. She swallowed it back and reached for the handle, opening the door.

  “Thanks for the ride. Next time, I’ll know you’re otherwise occupied.”

  He laughed softly. “All right.”

  “Gut night, Matthew.”

  Again, he gazed at her until the silence between them became uncomfortable. And then he said, “Gut night, Doris.”

  She shut the door, and he snapped the reins, driving away.

  “Gut night,” she whispered again at his disappearing buggy. He was a fine man, was Matthew Wanner. She was blessed to have him as kin. And Annie would be richly blessed to have him as her beau. Doris wrapped her arms around herself beneath her cape and forced a smile.

  Things were changing. It was inevitable, she supposed. She wasn’t sure she liked all the changes that were coming, but then it wasn’t up to her. One change she would relish, though.

  Jordan coming ho
me. And when he came back, she was certain everything would fall into place.

  * * *

  Matthew put Blackie in his stall and hurried into the house, entering through the side door. Ach, but it was cold out. There was no snow falling, but he could feel it in the air. He went straight into the kitchen, lit the lantern, and turned on the cook stove beneath the tea kettle. He’d warm up with a cup of tea before turning in for the night. He stood next to the stove, wanting to anticipate the kettle’s stark whistle and grab the kettle off the burner before it started. Verna and Nathaniel had clearly already gone to bed, and he didn’t fancy waking them.

  When the steam began, he snatched the kettle from the burner and turned the burner off. He poured the hot water and plopped in a teabag. He sat at the table, warming his hands around the cup. The evening had turned out all right after all, he supposed. He and Doris seemed to have come to some kind of understanding. He was glad. Even though he was changing the rules between them, he did want to get along with her—be her friend.

  And she had approved of Annie—not that he wanted it to matter, but it did. He felt better knowing Doris approved. Maybe someday, he and Annie and Doris and Jordan could even go out to dinner together.

  He chuckled and took a sip of tea, feeling it scald its way down his throat. That dinner date wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, he was sure, but even the fact that he was thinking about it, boded well. He was going to get over Doris. He was going to move on. Annie was a lovely girl, and she would make a fine girlfriend, and maybe someday, a fine wife.

  He took another sip of tea. It was going to be all right, and he was glad. More than glad, truth be told. He touched the edge of his forehead with two fingers as if giving Doris a symbolic farewell gesture.

  “Gut-bye, Doris,” he whispered into the empty room. His words hung in the air for a moment, and he heard them echo through his heart. “Gut-bye, Doris,” he murmured again.