“No?”
Jemima shook her head. “My mamm really liked Thanksgiving best. She said Christmas was for Jesus, but Thanksgiving was for everyone.”
“I like that saying. It’s true, too.”
“Mamm used to buy lots of pumpkins and put them all around the haus. And she made the best apple cider and applesauce.” Jemima peeked up at her. “We had an apple tree in our yard.”
“Did you? I always wanted one of those. Were the apples good?”
Jemima smiled. “They were the best. Mei daed used to say that he didn’t need to be a rich man because we had the best apple tree in the county.”
“If I had an apple tree in our yard, I think I’d sneak apples all the time.”
“Daed did! Mamm never even got mad because we had so many of them.”
“I bet you miss that tree,” E.A. said softly.
Jemima nodded. “I do.” Her lip trembled. “I miss the apple tree and our house and how our kitchen always smelled like cinnamon.” Looking up at E.A., she added, “I miss my parents, too. I wish they hadn’t died. Everyone says God must have wanted them bad, but I wanted them, too.”
And then the tears came.
“Oh, Jemima.” As the little girl let out a noise that was so full of pain it practically sliced her heart, E.A. reached out and held her close.
And then E.A. cried, too. She cried for Jemima and Roy’s parents, two people who were far too young to die, . . . and for two little children who were far too young to have only memories of them.
Chapter 9
Three days before Christmas
Jemima was wearing a brand-new red dress for the Christmas party. The fabric was buttery soft and the sleeves were slightly puffed. She thought the matching red apron over it was awfully pretty, too.
Mrs. Kurtz sure could sew! Even though at first glance it looked like every other Amish girl’s dress, it had a few more darts and pin tucks than others. Jemima thought it was beautiful. She also loved that the dress was fastened with straight pins in the front instead of buttons in the back like little girls’ dresses.
She felt very grown-up in it. When she’d put it on, she’d spun around in it, enjoying the way the fabric fluttered around her ankles.
“When are ya going to stop fussing with your dress?” Roy complained as he watched her spin around in a circle again. “That’s all you’ve been doing for the last hour.”
She stopped abruptly. “I have not.”
“You have too.” He sneered. “If there was a mirror in here, I reckon you’d be standing in front of it all day long, doing nothing but staring at yourself.”
She could feel her skin start to flush. “I didn’t ask you to come in here. Why don’t you go back to your own room?”
With a blink, his smirk vanished, and he looked once again like his usual six-year-old self. “Nee. I was bored in there. There wasn’t anything to do.”
Still irritated with his comments, she turned to face him. “That isn’t my problem. Leave me alone. Go out and pester somebody else.”
Roy glared at her. “You didn’t used to talk to me like that. You’re being mean, Jemima.”
She knew she was, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t right. She didn’t want to have to always entertain her little brother. “If I’m being mean, it’s because you’re being a baby, Roy.” She was pretty sure she was right about that, too. She was still six when their parents had died and all anyone ever expected of her was to “watch out for Roy.” She had, too. How come no one was asking him to do much now except a couple of easy chores and playing with the wooden farm and train sets in his room? It wasn’t fair.
“I’m not being a boppli!”
“You are too. Now, go!”
Just as Roy stuck out his tongue at her, Will appeared in the doorway. He looked irritated and a little angry, too.
“What is the matter with the two of you?” he asked, looking from her to Roy and back again. “E.A. and I could hear you two fussing from the kitchen.”
Roy’s eyes widened and suddenly looked angelic.
Which really was annoying. “You should ask Roy,” Jemima said. “He started it.”
“I did not.”
“You wouldn’t l—”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. We’re not starting that again,” Will interrupted. “Roy, what is the matter?”
“I came in here to play with Jemima, but all she wants to do is prance around in her new dress.” He lifted his chin. “And when I told her that she would probably do all that in front of a mirror if there was one in here, she told me to leave.”
“Ah.” Jemima noticed that Will almost smiled but then seemed to get back his composure. “Roy, I grew up with a slew of sisters. I’m sorry, but I fear you are going to have to get used to girls doing things boys don’t understand.”
“You mean she’s going to twirl all the time?”
After giving her a quick smile, Will crooked a finger at Roy. “Come with me, boy. Let’s leave Jemima alone for a moment.”
Roy stepped forward but then stopped again. “But I thought we were getting ready for the party.”
“Well, I’m ready, and I see that you have on your new shirt. Does that mean you’re ready as well?”
Her little brother bobbed his head. “Jah.”
“Then I’d say that we should go downstairs and sit patiently while the women finish, too.”
“But what else do they have to do? Jemima, what do you have to do now?”
“Nothing that we need to know about, Roy,” Will said easily as he guided her little brother out the door with a wink in her direction. Just before he closed it, he said, “Jemima, we’ll be leaving for the Lambrights’ haus in ten minutes. I expect you to be downstairs by then.”
“I will be.”
“Gut.” Just before he stepped away, he lowered his voice. “You look mighty pretty, Jemima. Very grown-up.”
“Danke,” she said as he closed the door.
When she was alone again, she paused, and only heard silence. Then she took a moment to appreciate the fact that she was in her own room, sitting on her own bed, and Mr. Kurtz had just not only given her a few moments of privacy, but he’d said she looked pretty, too.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she realized that she was happy. She wasn’t thinking about her parents or afraid of getting yelled at or worried about where she and Roy were going to be living next week. All she felt was a beautiful sense of peace floating inside her.
She wondered if it was her guardian angel reminding her that all was going to be well. Back when she was a little girl, she used to tell her mamm that she was never alone because she had her very own special angel always by her side. Her mother would laugh at her comments and say that if any little girl was so blessed, it would surely be her Jemima.
After their parents went to heaven and everything had turned so wrong, Jemima had been sure she’d been stupid ever to imagine that sweet angels walked by little girls’ sides. After all, how could a guardian angel really exist if both of her parents had died in an instant?
She’d decided then and there that all she’d had was a make-believe friend.
But now, maybe she’d been right all along. Maybe her special angel was looking out for her again and she was reminding Jemima that even though something very bad had happened, she was still never alone. That she was blessed and special in her own way.
The most recent turn of events seemed to say that was true. Even though Mr. and Mrs. Kurtz were having a baby, they’d said that she and Roy were still special to them and that they wanted them, too. Surely that meant something?
She didn’t know everything about E.A. and Will Kurtz, but she was almost positive that they didn’t lie. Not about things like that, at least.
“Jemima!” Roy called. “Everyone’s waiting!”
“Sorry!” She grabbed her black bonnet, slipped it over her kapp, and hurried downstairs. She was ready at last.
Chapter 10
All the attention was becoming awkward. From the moment she, Will, and the children had arrived at Katie and Harley’s house, all of their friends had made a beeline for E.A.’s tummy. They’d hugged her, patted her belly as if it wasn’t actually a part of her body, and discussed the pregnancy in excited tones.
Any other time, E.A. would have been grateful for that. But now, while she was holding little Jemima’s hand? All she wanted everyone to do was pretend that she wasn’t suddenly looking very pregnant.
And “suddenly” was the key word, too. It was as if the baby had decided to grow exponentially over the last week. She’d gone from looking like she was carrying a little bit of extra weight to looking like she was four or five months pregnant. It was rather confusing.
“I don’t think we have to talk about this anymore,” she said when her friends Kendra and Marie started to ask her questions about how she was feeling.
“Are you sure?” Marie asked.
“Positive,” she replied, hoping her quick glance at Jemima would relay what was on her mind.
“Oh, of course!” Smiling down at Jemima, Marie said, “Do you have a Christmas wish yet?”
“Nee.”
“Really?” She looked up at E.A. in concern. “I know the Amish don’t have Christmas trees or Santa Claus, but I thought children still got presents.”
“They do,” Kendra said before E.A. could. “But it’s different. Kinner don’t ask for the moon and stars, just for one or two special things.”
“Oh, of course.” Marie smiled again. “So, do you have one or two things in mind?”
Little Jemima looked up at E.A. with big eyes, which of course made a lump form in her throat. “You can say whatever you want to say, dear,” she murmured. “I promise, both Marie and Kendra are nice women. I’ve known them for years and years.”
Jemima seemed to think about that for a long moment, then said, “I do have a Christmas wish, Mrs. Byler. But it’s a secret.”
“Of course. I should have realized that. Christmas wishes are very special.”
“You sound like you have experience with them,” Kendra teased. “I’m going to guess that you’ve probably had your share of Christmas wishes over the years.”
Marie’s cheeks heated. “I can’t deny that I have. I was a spoiled girl, and I always seemed to want just one more thing.” Her green eyes lit up. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun to dream.”
E.A. smiled down at Jemima, who was now staring at Marie as if she was some kind of Christmas angel. E.A. didn’t blame her, either. Marie had an enthusiasm about her that was infectious. It had always been that way, even back when they were little girls together.
“My wish right now is to go try some of those Christmas cookies. Want to do that, Jemima?”
“Jah.”
“We’ll talk to you later,” E.A. said to Kendra and Marie before guiding Jemima over to the long table that was filled with beautiful and tasty-looking treats. “Look, Jemima! There are the marshmallow treats that we made with Roy this morning.”
The little girl smiled. “They look shay.”
“I think they look pretty, too.” They’d decorated their treats with red and green chocolate candies and cut them into stars while they were still warm. Arranged next to plates of snow crescents, gingersnaps, and other cookie cutouts, they looked perfect.
She picked up a paper plate. “What kind of cookie is your favorite?”
Jemima giggled. “All of them.”
“That’s the best answer, dear. How about we each pick four cookies to sample?”
“Is that really okay?”
“Jemima, you can have as many as you’d like,” Katie Lambright said as she approached with her baby in her arms. “Cookies are meant to be eaten, not simply stared at.”
After E.A. gave her an encouraging nod, Jemima wandered over to the opposite side of the table and slowly made her choices.
“How are things going?” Katie whispered.
“I think pretty well. Today’s been a good day. Jemima and Roy seemed to like making cookies, and Jemima at least has seemed to enjoy the party. Well, once everyone stopped talking about my pregnancy.”
“She and Roy are adorable, and it’s obvious that they’re already settling in with you and Will.”
E.A. glanced over at Will, who was now carrying a sleepy-looking Roy on his hip. “I hope so. As soon as I met them, I knew I wanted to be their mother.” After checking to make sure Jemima was out of earshot, she added in a whisper, “I don’t know if it’s going to be easy, though. By all accounts, their parents were wonderful people, and the children miss them terribly. I don’t want to replace them, of course, but I’m afraid I’ll never measure up.”
“Oh, E.A., don’t you know that you can’t worry about things like that?”
“How can I not worry? Will and I are kind of like instant parents. We don’t have the experience of what to say or do.”
“One day soon, I want you to sit down and think about your parents. Think about what they did right . . . and what they could have done better. Then I want you to think about what would have really made a difference to you.”
“I have good parents.”
“You do. So does Will. But they weren’t perfect, were they?”
“No, of course not.”
“So, here’s my question. If you didn’t need them to be perfect, why are you asking yourself to be that way?”
As usual, Katie’s forthright attitude made a lot of sense. “I hear what you’re saying,” E.A. said. “I just need to love them, right?”
Katie nodded. “That’s all they need, E.A. I promise.”
“Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
“Any time, Elizabeth Anne. Any time at all.” When her baby started fussing, she grinned. “I think I’d better take some time to be a good mother right now.”
As she wandered off, E.A. stepped up to the table and chose a couple of cookies, making sure that one of her four was a star treat that she’d made with the kids.
“You took one of ours, too,” Jemima said.
“I did. I thought they were mighty good.”
“Me too.” Her eyes lit up. “Do you have a cookie exchange party every year with your friends?”
“This was the first one, but I’m thinking we should have another one next year. What do you think?”
“I think so, too,” Jemima said.
Feeling that they’d just crossed another barrier, E.A. smiled down at her. “Let’s go get some punch and then sit down near Roy and Will and eat our treats.”
“They saved us a spot!”
She laughed. “Jah, they surely did. You lead the way and I’ll follow.”
As Jemima carefully made her way through the crowd of thirty people, her little figure looking so proper and ladylike in her red dress, E.A. felt many of her worries fade away. Some of that was due to Katie’s encouragement.
But some of it was simply due to little Jemima. She was acting like a happy nine-year-old for once.
That counted for everything.
Chapter 11
Will didn’t often try to compare himself to his father, but that evening, as he drove the buggy back to their house with Roy and Jemima asleep between him and his wife, he knew his father would be looking upon him with approval.
“What are you thinking about so intently?” E.A. asked. “You’ve got a funny expression on your face.”
“Oh, I was just thinking about my daed.”
“What about him?”
“Well, I have lots of memories of falling asleep next to him when he was driving us home from a long day at church or from supper somewhere. I guess I couldn’t help but be glad that here I am, doing the same thing.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of that, too.”
“What have you decided?”
“That I like this part of our lives. I like having to look over at you above two children’s heads.”
He chuckled. “I like that, too.”
“Good. Tired, too.”
“I noticed all the women standing around you when we got there.”
“They said I looked like I was much farther along than three months.” After darting another look at the kinner, she added, “Marie said I looked like I was closer to five months.”
“Maybe she was just teasing ya.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, Will. I’ve read a lot of books about first pregnancies, and lots of them say the only change one might notice at this point is a thickening of the waistline. This is more than that.”
Will couldn’t argue with her. He’d privately been thinking that she had sure seemed to be looking rather big rather fast. “Why do you think that is?”
“That maybe we got the date wrong and I really am five months along.”
He was glad it was dark because he didn’t think he would be able to hide his shock. “If that is the case, our baby will be coming sometime in April.”
“Jah. Practically around the corner.”
April did feel like it would be there before they knew it. First they had Christmas; then it would be time to get Roy and Jemima settled in their new school. And, according to Melanie the social worker, by the end of January they might even have a court date about the adoption.
After months of simply talking about fostering children, now everything was moving at lightning speed.
Hoping he didn’t sound as frazzled as he was starting to feel, he said, “We have the sonogram on Monday afternoon. I guess we’ll find out then.”
“Jah. I guess we will.”
Seeing the gas lights flickering by their front door in the distance, he murmured, “We both know that our Lord Jesus doesn’t make mistakes. If it’s His will that we have our baby in April, then so be it.”
E.A. reached out behind the children’s sleeping forms and squeezed his biceps. “You are exactly right. There’s no reason to worry.”
“None at all. We need to think positive, for sure and for certain.” He directed Chip, their horse, to the barn.
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