The Amish Christmas Kitchen

by Kelly Long

  He tried to clear an emotional knot from his throat, but when he continued, his voice cracked with emotion. “Now that the operation’s scheduled and all, I’ve realized I need to swallow my pride to make sure Amos gets the treatment he desperately needs.”

  Still absorbing the gift and the change in his demeanor, she eyed him to continue.

  “Though I’ve tried every resource I could get my hands on, I wasn’t able to find a way to pay for the surgery on my own. Believe me, I asked God over and over to help so I wouldn’t have to accept it. But while I listened to the auctioneer push for ever higher bids, I thought of my father. And I recalled a particular conversation we’d had before he passed away.”

  “You were at the auction?”

  He nodded.

  Emma sat very still. She lifted a curious brow as Jonathan shifted in his chair.

  Jonathan went on. “I remember it like it happened yesterday. We were talking in the barn. It was while we loaded the stable with fresh straw for the cattle.” Jonathan chuckled as his gaze drifted off in space. She knew how close he’d been to his father.

  “He was giving me advice for when I became a dad. There were certain things he instilled in us. One of them was to be a good provider. To do things on our own and never depend on others.”

  Emma offered an understanding nod. She fully got why he’d been so intent on coming through with the money on his own. She knew Jon had loved his dad more than anything in the world, and Emma was sure that he had attentively heeded his role model’s advice.

  “We were discussing how a man should lead his family. But something else came up in the dialogue. Something I had forgotten.”

  Emma curled her fingers around her precious gift. “What was it?”

  Jonathan uncrossed his legs. “That family comes first. And nothing’s more important than protecting them and making sure they’re okay.”

  He bent his head a notch and looked directly into her eyes. The flecks in his own eyes danced with passion. Mesmerized, she found it hard to look away.

  “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and now I’m sure that this fund-raiser was meant to protect Amos.” He closed his lids and pushed out a deep breath. “If I had stopped the auction that was intended solely to benefit my family, how could I ever have forgiven myself? And after a lot of thought and prayers, I’m sure Dad would approve of accepting the donations.”

  Emma didn’t blink. Had she heard him correctly?

  “Every moment that my brother is in surgery, I’ll thank God for you and everyone who worked so hard to protect the person I love more than anyone in the world.” He paused and lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t show appreciation sooner.”

  She smiled a little as she considered his change of heart. Finally, she offered a slow, thoughtful nod of acceptance. “You’re forgiven.”

  He sighed relief. The tenseness in his shoulders seemed to go away.

  “I’m glad it worked out the way it did.”

  He blew out a deep breath and offered an agonizing shake of his head. “I was headstrong, Emma. And I truly regret my stubbornness.”

  She spoke in a soft, reassuring voice. “It’s okay, Jon. The story had a happy ending. And you’re only human. And to be honest . . .” She paused, then waved a hand. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  “Tell me. I’ve just bared my soul to you.”

  She decided on a straightforward approach. “I like that about you. I mean, that you’re such a fierce protector. Because you stepped right in and led your family when your dad passed away.”

  He smiled a little and lifted an inquisitive brow.

  “It certainly took me by surprise. Although it’s not uncommon for an Amish boy my age to take care of a family. But my circumstances weren’t exactly by choice—Dad taught me well. It’s difficult, though, ’cause I don’t have him to lean on now.” He gave a quick roll of his eyes to change the subject. “Now I have a question for you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He hesitated and squinted in doubt. “I need your honest answer.”

  She offered a quick nod. “Sure.”

  She clutched her hands together, wondering what on earth he could ask that would cause him so much uncertainty.

  He tapped the toe of his shoe against the floor again. This time, the pace was much faster. The light coming in from the window made her foiled paper sparkle. “I’ve asked your parents’ permission to court you.”

  She swallowed. Suddenly she found herself without a response. Was this really happening? Gruff, difficult-to-get-along-with Jon Troyer wanted to date her? She tried hard to control her emotions, which were a combination of happiness and great surprise.

  He studied her with intense curiosity before looking down, as if trying to decide what to say next. When he lifted his chin, his eyes sparkled with moisture. She was touched.

  “You’re the kindest, hardest-working woman I’ve ever met. When I look at you, I see everything that God would like us all to be. You won my brother’s heart from the get-go.” He softened the pitch of his voice. “And mine.”

  Emma stood absolutely still. Could she believe what he was telling her?

  His voice softened to a hushed whisper. “Would you give me the honor to court you?”

  Several long moments passed before the potent, unexpected question completely sank in. When it did, she grinned and a small, excited giggle escaped her throat. “I would love that, Jon.”

  * * *

  That evening, the light from the candle on Emma’s bed stand flickered as the pleasant scent of vanilla floated through her bedroom. As soon as she opened her lids, Emma propped her pillows against the headboard of her oak bed and sat back into the cushions.

  The softness prompted her to relax. As she stretched her legs on top of the quilt that had been made by her mother, she clasped her hands together under her neck and gazed out of the window that overlooked their pasture.

  The darkness made it impossible to see what she knew was there—cattle, the huge red barn—but her front-row view of the Milky Way was crystal clear. As the bright moon hovered amidst the constellation of bright stars, a sigh of amazement escaped Emma’s lips.

  If God could design such a complex pattern in the sky, surely He could fix Amos’s heart. While she contemplated the soon-to-be procedure, she scooted down toward the foot of the bed a notch and wiggled her bare toes against the soft, comfy fabric.

  Pressing her lips together, she considered God’s role in the surgery. It hadn’t been mere coincidence that they had raised more than enough money to pay for Amos’s surgery, transportation, and lodging. She knew that it was her Lord at His best. Thousands of prayers had made it to the Creator, and He had responded with great enthusiasm.

  While Emma mentally prepared herself for all of the steps leading up to the operation, she thought of Amos’s recovery. Immediately, her shoulders tensed. The tempo of her pulse stepped up a couple of notches. She moved her hands to her lap, where she interlaced her fingers.

  As she considered the fast-approaching operation, she closed her eyes and pushed out a stressful sigh. As soon as she did, she remembered her faith and knew that God would continue to bless them.

  A few moments later, she opened her lids, which clung to her pupils. Moisture clouded her vision. But the tears weren’t a bad thing; instead, she found them to be a combination of happiness and relief.

  She turned onto her left side to take in the beautiful view looming on the other side of her window. The stars and the moon were miles away—she couldn’t even begin to imagine the great distance—yet they had been made by the same Creator as she.

  That realization caused her jaw to drop. She went on to prop her head with her hand and attempted to make sense of what was so unbelievable, but real.

  She recalled her sixteen years, which had been filled with love, Scripture, and blessings, and she silently praised God that she had been brought up in a Christian home. As she took in the perfection and complexity of the co
nstellation above her, she smiled.

  How on earth could anyone look up at the sky and not believe in God?

  * * *

  With great care not to burn her arms, Emma pulled a batch of Christmas cookies from the gas oven and smiled in satisfaction. As she set the baking sheet filled with star-shaped desserts on hot pads on the cream-stone countertop, she pushed out a sigh of delight. From the window above the sink, she took in the Troyer home in the distance while her dad cleared the new batch of snow from their front sidewalk.

  Icicles hung from the sides of the roof. The family buggy was parked beneath the covered area next to the house.

  She eyed the recipe box that Jon had given her yesterday and grinned. She traced her pointer finger over the star that he had so beautifully carved into the polished wooden lid.

  Jon wants to court me. As she slid the delicious-smelling morsels onto the paper tray, the unexpected compliments he’d given her replayed in her mind until she gave a shake of her head in happy disbelief.

  All the while she had fought to keep the auction alive, he had really wanted it, too. Deep down inside. It was just that accepting money from others had made him feel as though he wasn’t following through with his duties as head of the household.

  Between Jon’s conversation with Amos and their buggy rides, she had gotten to know the man better. And she liked him. In fact . . . She pushed out a happy sigh. She loved the way he made sure she got home safely. She appreciated that he toted her book bag for her.

  And now, he had designed this beautiful recipe box especially for her. Her heart warmed as she thought of the time he must have put into it and how he’d personalized it with the letter E.

  Mamma’s voice pulled her from her reverie. Emma startled.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay, Mamma.”

  The expression in her role model’s eyes was a combination of amusement and joy. “He seems fond of you. He’ll make a good husband, that Troyer boy.”

  “Mamma!”

  “Don’t deny that you like him, Emma. And when he asked your father permission to court you . . .”

  “What, Mamma?”

  Mamma offered a cute roll of her eyes. “It must have been the sweetest request I’ve ever heard. He explained how much he respected you and how he’d take good care of you.”

  Emma lifted a brow. “You and Dad never said a word to me.”

  Mamma grinned. “That would have spoiled the surprise.”

  “How long have you known?”

  Mamma pressed her lips together before pointing a finger in the air. “The day after the auction. Your dad was outside feeding the livestock, and Jonathan pitched right in to help. They started talkin’ about the fund-raiser, and before he left, he came up to the house and approached your father and me about courtin’ you.”

  Emma hadn’t seen him there. Of course, she’d most likely been at the Troyers teaching little Amos.

  Emma drew her hands over her heart and turned to the soft-spoken woman next to her. “Little Amos has his surgery next week, Mamma.” Emma pulled in a satisfied breath. “I can’t believe I’m finally getting my wish.”

  Mamma paused. “Your wish?”

  Emma giggled. “Jah. I can’t wait to see my little boy healthy and running around outside with the other kids. In fact, I want it more than anything.”

  “You really love him.”

  Emma nodded. “I’ll do everything I can to help him, his mother, and Jonathan prepare for the surgery. I’ve even offered to do Jon’s chores while they are in Minnesota.”

  Mamma put an affectionate hand on Emma’s. A long silence followed while their gazes locked in a mutual respect. “I’m so proud of you, Emma. When I watch you taking care of that little boy, my heart feels good. And someday, when you have your own children, you’ll be so warm and loving to them.” Mamma lifted her palms and dropped them. “What more could I expect from you?” She paused. “I’m a happy mamma. I’ve watched you work so hard for all of these donations, and I’m proud you’re my girl.”

  Emma’s breath caught in her throat while she considered the meaningful words she’d just heard. Finally, a response came to her. “Mamma, I’m a little embarrassed. I don’t need praise for helping with the auction. A lot of people donated their time and money. I just did my part.”

  Mamma smiled a little. Suddenly, Emma remembered her project and she finished scooping the cookie dough onto the baking sheet.

  As she gazed out the kitchen window, she glimpsed Jon feeding his cattle. It was still difficult to digest all that had happened in such a short amount of time. The fund-raiser. Getting enough donations to pay for little Amos’s surgery. Jon asking permission to court her.

  Emma put the cookie sheet into the oven, closed the door, and removed the protective mitt from her hand. She turned to Mamma and shrugged. “I have everything I could ever want, Mamma. I’m so lucky. I wonder what I’ve done to deserve such blessings from God.”

  Mamma began to step away. She turned to wink at Emma. “God rewards the faithful, Emma. And He’ll continue to bless you.”

  LISA JONES BAKER’S CHRISTMAS COOKIES

  When I took my first bite of these cookies, over four decades ago, I knew they were, without a doubt, the best I had ever eaten. The recipe came from my aunt. At the time, I was in 4H and loved to cook. I still do! Over the years, when I visited my sister’s family, I would take the ingredients with me and make the cookies at their house. The batch would quickly disappear. Now the cookies are a Christmas tradition. My niece bakes the treats for her boys, and I’m sure this recipe will stay in our family forever.

  INGREDIENTS

  2¾ cups all-purpose flour

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  ½ teaspoon salt

  ¾ cup butter

  1 cup sugar

  2 eggs

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a medium bowl, sift together and put aside flour, baking powder, and salt.

  In a separate bowl, let the butter soften naturally. Mix in sugar, eggs, and vanilla extract. Once blended, add flour mixture.

  After the cookie dough is made, bunch it into a ball, wrap it tightly in waxed paper, and refrigerate for two to three hours. Then, take half the batch, roll it out, and sprinkle lightly with flour so the dough won’t stick. Cut into ornament shapes.

  Bake on a cookie sheet at 375 F for eight minutes or so. Enjoy!

  For icing, I let a stick of butter get to room temperature. When it’s soft, stir in enough powdered sugar and milk to make the icing smooth and creamy.

  Now available from Lisa Jones Baker

  REBECCA’S BOUQUET

  Hope Chest of Dreams, Book 1

  The last thing Rebecca Sommer dreamed her plan to wed would bring was a heart-wrenching choice. She thought she and her betrothed, William, would spend the rest of their lives in the Illinois heartland, raising a family in their close-knit Amish hometown. But when he must travel far out of state to save his ailing father’s business, Rebecca braves her relatives’ disapproval—and her own fears—to go work by his side. And though she finds herself ever more in love with the dedicated, resourceful man he proves to be, William’s growing interest in English ways may be the one challenge even her steadfast faith can’t meet . . .

  Turn the page for an excerpt from Rebecca’s Bouquet....

  CHAPTER 1

  His announcement took her by surprise. Rebecca Sommer met William’s serious gaze and swallowed. The shadow from his hat made his expression impossible to read.

  “You’re really leaving?”

  He fingered the black felt on the brim. “I know what a shock this is. Believe me, I never expected to hear that Dad had a heart attack.”

  “Do they expect a full recovery?”

  William nodded. “But the docs say it will be a while before he works again. Right now, they can’t even guess at a time line. In the meantime, Beth’s struggling to take care
of him.”

  While Rebecca considered the news, the warm June breeze rustled the large, ear-shaped leaves on the catalpa tree. The sun peeked from behind a large marshmallow cloud, as if deciding whether or not to appear. In the distance, a sleek black gelding clomped its hooves against the earth.

  Pools of dust stirred, swirling and quickly disappearing. Lambs frolicked across the parcel of pasture separating the Sommer home from Old Sam Beachy’s bright red barn. From where they stood, Rebecca could barely glimpse the orange Yield sign on the back of the empty buggy parked next to the house.

  “I’m the only person Dad trusts with his business.” William paused and lowered his voice. “Beth wants me to come to Indiana and run his cabinet shop, Rebecca.”

  The news caused a wave of anxiety to roll through Rebecca’s chest. She wrung her hands together in a nervous gesture. A long silence ensued as she thought of William leaving, and her shoulders grew tense. Not even the light, sweet fragrance floating from her mother’s rose garden could take away Rebecca’s anxiety.

  When she finally started to respond, William held up a defensive hand. “It’s just until he’s back on his feet. This may not be such a bad thing. The experience might actually benefit us.”

  Rebecca raised a curious brow. The breeze blew a chestnut-brown hair out of place, and she quickly tucked it back under her kapp. Her gaze drifted from his face to his rolled-up sleeves.

  Tiny freckles decorated his nose, giving him a youthful appearance. But there was nothing boyish about his square jaw or broad shoulders that tried to push their way out of his shirt. Her heart skipped a beat. She lifted her chin, and their eyes locked in understanding.

  William smiled a little. “One of these days we’ll run our own company.” He winked. “Don’t worry.”