Chapter Thirteen
Abigail woke the next morning feeling like her old self.
She was so full of energy she nearly bolted out of her bed.
Then she remembered Thomas’s kiss and the way she had kissed him back. She sank back into her covers and wondered if she had been too bold, but then again...he had started it.
By the time Baby Jo woke, Abigail had dressed and was humming “Joy to the World.” As she helped Mammi with breakfast, the words to “Away in a Manger” danced through her head. And when she sat on the couch to work on Thomas’s scarf, she found herself softly singing “O Come, All Ye Faithful.”
“Someone certainly woke up in a Christmas mood,” Mammi said.
“I did indeed.” Why shouldn’t she hum? She was recovered from a serious bout of the flu. Baby Jo was flourishing. And Thomas had kissed her after he’d helped her wash dishes. She had kissed him back. Her cheeks warmed at the memory. What had she been thinking?
“Feeling worse?” Mammi asked, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Nein. At least, not the way you think.” She checked the pattern for the scarf, then continued knitting. “How do you know when you’re in love?”
“You’ve been married before, child. I think you know the answer to that question.”
“But I wasn’t in love with Asher.” There was a time when admitting that would have sent a flood of shame through Abigail, but it didn’t now. Life had simply turned into something different than she’d imagined, and now it was turning again. Her past was nothing to be ashamed of. “You were in love with your husband. His name was Joshua, right? I can tell you loved him.”
“I love him still.” The smile on Mammi’s face caused her eyes to sparkle.
Or was that tears? But when she looked directly at her, Abigail understood they weren’t tears of despair, only memories of joy surfacing once again.
“I knew that I loved Joshua the first time I saw him. We were at a singing in Adam Hochstetler’s barn. Joshua was visiting from Ohio. When I looked across and saw him...”
Her voice faded away as the memories overtook her. She stared down at the knitting in her lap, shook her head and resumed her story. “I knew he was the one for me, and I never regretted going over and saying hello, asking him if he’d like to step outside for a cold soda that we kept in coolers. It was bold of me, I knew that, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to get to know him. I needed to get to know him.”
“Sounds like the stuff of romance novels.”
Mammi shrugged. “The heart knows what it wants. Sometimes we block that out, but other times we listen. Gotte blessed me that day, because He caused me to listen to my heart.” She tapped her chest. “And my heart told me that Joshua was the one.”
“I didn’t think Asher was the one, but he was someone. And my mamm and dat thought the time had come for me to marry.” She finished the row she’d been knitting, turned the scarf over and began to purl. “I don’t regret it, though we never shared a love like you and Joshua. Still, Baby Jo is the result of that union.”
“A blessing indeed.”
“I’ll thank the Lord all the days of my life for Asher and for Joanna. As for being in love...” She looked up at Mammi, surprised to find the older woman watching her, watching and waiting. “My heart is insisting that I love Thomas, and I believe he may care for me in return.”
Mammi clapped her hands. “Wunderbaar.”
“I guess.” Abigail laughed, then shook her head. “Sometimes, like last night, it seems that he does and that he wants the same things I do. Other times, I’m not so sure. It’s as if something causes him to hesitate and then he pulls away.”
“Have you asked him why?”
“Nein. I assumed he would tell me if he wanted me to know.”
“A man can do many things, but I’ve yet to meet one that can read a woman’s mind.” Mammi stuck her knitting needles into the ball of yarn, stood and stretched her back. She checked on Baby Jo, who was sleeping peacefully, then pointed a crooked finger at Abigail. Playfully scolding her, she said, “Use your words, Abigail Yutzy. If you care for Thomas, tell him so. And if you have questions, ask them. But above all...”
“Listen to my heart?”
“Yes, dear one. Listen to your heart.”
The morning passed quickly, and Abigail finished up Thomas’s scarf. She tucked it into her sewing basket and pulled out a shawl she had begun for Mammi. Only four days until Christmas. What was she thinking starting a project at the last minute?
But her heart told her that Mammi would enjoy the pearl-gray-and-soft-pink yarn. She would finish as much as she could, but not stress over it. So what if she gave Mammi a half-finished project? They could spend the week between Christmas and New Year’s knitting together.
It was a great comfort to her to know that Mammi would still be here. When had the older woman become like family? Her presence made the house feel like a home, and her wisdom was something that Abigail sorely needed.
Not that she always agreed with Mammi, or Thomas for that matter.
Both thought she should wait one more day to go to town. At lunch, Mammi insisted, “Taking a nap might be the better thing to do. Just for a few days. Just to be sure you have your strength back.”
Thomas had quickly jumped to Mammi’s side of the discussion. “We will go dashing through the snow—I promise. But tomorrow works better for me anyway. I have...um...work to do in the west field.”
“Are you making that up, Thomas Albrecht?”
“Nein. I would never do that. And besides...there’s always work to do in any field. Ha. Tell me you can argue with that.”
She couldn’t. She knew that a farmer’s work was never done.
Later that afternoon, Clare stopped by to check on her and caught her mopping the floor of the mudroom.
“You must be well. Mudrooms are the last thing I mop. They get dirty again the same hour.” They spent a pleasant half hour over a cup of tea while Mammi and Baby Jo rested in Jo’s room.
As they walked back out onto the front porch, Clare whispered, “You had us all worried—especially Thomas.”
Abigail focused on pulling her sweater tighter around her, but she could feel her cheeks flush at the mention of Thomas. She was still trying to decide what to say when Clare enfolded her in a hug.
“I’m happy for you, Abi.”
The only person to call her that had been her grossdaddi. Abigail’s heart warmed at the memory. She did have good family memories. She could see now that the bulk of them had been buried under a blanket of old hurts and confusion.
“Life is hard. I don’t believe we’re meant to go it alone, and you and Thomas seem like a natural couple.”
“Danki, but I don’t even know if he feels the same.”
“You will know soon enough.” Clare’s smile widened. “Perhaps he has a Christmas surprise for you.”
What could Clare possibly be talking about? It wasn’t as if Thomas would drop down on one knee, pull out a diamond ring and ask her to marry him. That was the Englisch way. Amish tended to wait until they were walking through a field and the sun was setting. Then they simply popped the question. No ring involved. No fanfare. Though she supposed the feelings were the same.
The weather was cold, but any additional snow was still holding off. Perhaps they would have a white Christmas. That evening, Thomas missed eating dinner with them because of a fence that had decided to fall down for no apparent reason. He stopped in to tell them good evening and that he was headed home.
Abigail wanted to give him a cup of coffee or hot cocoa, but he’d insisted that he needed to be on his way.
“The fence is done?”
“All mended now.” He smiled down at her. “Should we make our trip to town tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Ya. What time should we be ready?”
“Abigail Yutzy, I have every intention of staying home with Baby Jo.” Mammi walked into the living room, pulled a sheet of paper from her apron pocket and pressed it into Abigail’s hand. “But I did make a list of a few things I’d like you to pick up.”
Cinnamon.
Marshmallows.
Peppermint sticks.
“Sweet tooth?” Thomas asked, reading over Abigail’s shoulder.
“Ha. Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mammi walked from the room singing a christmas song.
“She’s in the spirit of the season.”
“Indeed, she is.”
Thomas reached for her hand, causing Abigail’s thoughts to scatter. “Can you be ready to leave around nine?”
“Nine will be perfect.” Abigail thought he would kiss her again, but Mammi picked that moment to walk back into the room and scoop up her glasses from the coffee table. “Can’t read without these.”
Her smile indicated she knew what she’d interrupted. Thomas laughed, and Abigail pulled in a deep breath. Was this what falling in love felt like? It seemed the day was literally stuffed with anticipation and small joys and hope.
She and Mammi had fallen into the habit of each enjoying a hot cup of herbal tea as Abigail nursed Baby Jo before heading to bed. Lately, she’d taken to reading about the holy birth. Mammi opened her worn Bible and read several verses from the prophet Isaiah. Then they spoke of that, of the various names for the Christ Child—Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Names mattered.
Those names for the baby Jesus mattered.
And she realized in that moment why she’d insisted on naming her doschder Joanna. The word meant kind. She’d read that in the baby book that Naomi had given her. Kindness was essential in this life. It was important for a person to both give and receive kindness, and it was something that she was determined to focus on in her parenting of Baby Jo.
She thought she might toss and turn that night, but she fell asleep within minutes of lying down. Her last thought was of the prophet’s words and the miracle of her doschder. She went to sleep thinking of names and how much kindness she had received in the last few months—enough to believe in the goodness of people again, enough to believe that she was loved and worthy of love. And if you believed that, it seemed to Abigail, anything was possible.
* * *
Thomas couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked forward to a day in town so much. Normally he was happiest in a barn or a field. When had that changed? Abigail sat beside him in the buggy, going over the lists she’d written. He had to admit that her enthusiasm was contagious.
She glanced up from the pieces of paper she clutched in her gloved hand. “I suppose you’ll be with your family on Christmas Day.”
“Oh, ya. We have one very important tradition that I’m a critical part of. The kids get up early, the parents get tired and Uncle Thomas shows up in time for a big luncheon.”
“Your schweschder Lily cooks the meal?”
“Most of it, though Grace and Lydia help. After lunch, Grace and Lydia head over to see the other side of the family, and Lily and Josiah sneak off for a nap. That’s where my important role comes in. I keep the little ones occupied with their new toys while their parents sleep.”
“That does sound like an important tradition.” She scrunched up her face. “But I was hoping that we would see you on Christmas.”
“Were you, now?”
“I have a present for you,” she admitted. “I guess I could give it to you early.”
“Nein. The best presents you always save for last.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I wouldn’t miss Baby Jo’s first Christmas. I’ve already told my schweschdern that I’ll be leaving by three in the afternoon, and I let Mammi know that I’ll be eating dinner at your place.”
“Oh, you have?”
“She invited me...I assumed it was okay with you.”
“I suppose.” She tapped a finger against her lips and attempted to look perplexed. “If we can make room. It’s going to be crowded with the three of us, but maybe we can squeeze in one more.”
He liked this side of Abigail. It did his heart a world of good to see the constant look of worry replaced with holiday cheer.
“Tell me what’s on your list there. Where do you want to go?”
They went to Yoder’s Department Store first. Thomas followed her around, unsure what he was supposed to do. On the one hand, he could wait in the rocking chairs that lined the middle of the store. That’s where most men congregated. On the other hand, he rather liked watching her shop. Though she had access to Asher’s bank account now, it was obvious that she was being quite careful with the money. Several times, she’d pick something up, rub her fingers across it, then set it back down with a look of firm resolve.
A few of those things he went back for while she was standing in the checkout line. Then she sat in the rockers while she waited for him to complete his purchases.
“I didn’t know you had shopping to do.” She bumped her shoulder against his as they made their way back to the buggy.
“Just a few things I realized I needed.”
When she tried to peek into his bag, he held it behind his back. “Nosy.”
“Guilty.”
“You can’t see.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a surprise. Christmas is supposed to be full of surprises. Don’t you know that?”
She tossed her kapp strings over her shoulder and gave him a saucy look. “I know. I have surprises too.”
Their next stop was the grocery store, where they consulted both Abigail’s list and Mammi’s. Soon their cart was filled with a honey-glazed ham, a sack of potatoes, winter squash, three types of cheese, a tin of Hershey’s cocoa, cinnamon, marshmallows, peppermint sticks, oranges, nuts, popcorn and cranberries.
When she’d paid for the goods, he insisted on carrying the sacks. “But only if you’ll humor me for one more stop.”
“I see. You’ll help, but only if I do your bidding.”
“Exactly.”
Instead of turning Duchess toward home, he headed back into town and parked in front of Davis Mercantile.
“Don’t tell me you’ve started quilting.”
“Nein. We’re not headed to Lolly’s.”
“We’re not?” She wriggled her eyebrows. “Second guess—you’ve taken up knitting and want to purchase some yarn.”
“Not even close.”
He cupped her elbow with the palm of his hand and led her into the building and toward JoJo’s Pretzels. The last time they’d been here was after she’d cleaned out Asher’s room, when she’d been physically weighed down with despair. To Thomas it had seemed that she’d been completely overwhelmed at the thought of being a mamm and terribly unsure about how things were going to work out.
She still didn’t know how they were going to work out.
Neither did Thomas.
That hadn’t changed at all.
But they had changed. They’d become something of a family—he and Abigail and Little Jo and even Mammi. The only thing left was to make it official.
“Thomas...”
“Huh? What?”
Both Abigail and the girl behind the counter laughed.
“He has Christmas on his mind,” Abigail explained.
“We see that a lot here. Now, what can I get you?”
They both ordered a cinnamon pretzel. Then they went to the Kitchen Cupboard, a coffee shop that shared the same retail space. They ordered hot coffees that were served thick with whipped cream on top and little green sprinkles.
“So festive,” she said.
“’Tis the season.” Thomas raised his mug and clinked it against hers. Christmas music played in the background. Twinkly ligh
ts had been strung across the coffee shop, and holiday scenes had been spray-painted on the windows.
Abigail sipped her coffee, studied the room and then smiled at Thomas. It did strange things to his stomach when she focused all of her attention on him. He thought of Mary Lehman reminding him not to wait too long, not to fall into the trap of thinking that there was an endless line of women waiting to marry. He’d never thought that. He’d never considered himself marriage material.
But Mary Lehman was right. No person had infinite chances.
His schweschdern had pretty much said the same thing, assuring him that their past was simply that—the past.
Which reminded him of Mammi asking what he was waiting for.
“You’re seriously studying that pretzel,” Abigail said.
“Am I?” He broke off a large chunk and stuffed it in his mouth, which only caused Abigail to laugh like a schoolgirl. She wasn’t a schoolgirl, though. She was a beautiful woman who he’d fallen in love with.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
She was taking a sip of the coffee, and when she jerked her head up in surprise, she came away with a wide mustache of whipped cream. He smiled and handed her a napkin. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Startle me?” She opened and closed her mouth twice. Finally, she settled for “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you care for me too.”
“You know I do.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, but then she sat up straighter, met his gaze and said quite boldly, “I do, Thomas. I do care for you.”
“But?”
“But...we’re in a coffee shop.”
“And?”
“And, you caught me off guard. I’d planned what I would like to say to you, but I thought we’d be taking a moonlit walk through the snow.”
Thomas looked out the window, then grinned at her. “Most of the snow is melted.”
“Indeed.”
“And Mammi cautioned me not to wait.”
Now Abigail’s eyebrows arched. “Did she give you the talk about listening to your heart?”
An Amish Baby for Christmas Page 17
