An Amish Second Christmas

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An Amish Second Christmas Page 22

by Shelley Shepard Gray


  “No. I’ve got work in the greenhouse.”

  “Maybe you should take a break today. You look tired.”

  Rachel sighed again. “It’s not that.”

  Ada wiped her hands on her work apron. “He’s not the boy for you, Rachel. He’s a good worker, but he’s not a good suitor.” She shook her head. “Not with those worldly notions of his.”

  Rachel pushed her plate away. She wished she agreed with her mamm.

  * * *

  Rachel tried to act busy when she heard buggy wheels crunch against the gravel driveway. She hunched over the rosemary and forced herself to focus. She wouldn’t let Joseph see how distracted she felt. She wouldn’t let him know that she cared about Chrissy. It was ridiculous anyway. Why should she care?

  Joseph’s presence filled the greenhouse as soon as he strode through the door. Rachel’s stomach jumped as he flashed his signature grin. That was why she cared. That grin, that carefree laugh, that gentle voice. Ach! What a mess she was in!

  “You look like you haven’t slept all night.”

  Rachel frowned and tried to keep her attention on the rosemary.

  Joseph leaned against the potting table and gazed down at her with a glint in his eyes. “Couldn’t stop thinking about me?”

  Rachel’s frown deepened. “I’m not in the mood for your jokes, Joseph. We’ve got a lot to do before Christmas.”

  Joseph held up his hands and backed away. “All right, all right. Let’s get to work.”

  “I am working. You’re the one who’s not working.” Rachel forced her eyes to stay on the rosemary topiary. She wished that she had been nicer. But if she apologized she would have to admit why she was upset—better to just go on and pretend everything was okay.

  By Wednesday afternoon, Rachel realized that she couldn’t just pretend everything was okay. Every time Joseph spoke to her—or even looked at her—her heart leapt into her throat and then her stomach fell at the memory of Abner’s words about Chrissy. That girl’s a perfect ten.

  By the end of the week, Rachel felt as if steam might come out of her ears. Her exasperation and hurt had been building for days. To make matters worse, Joseph wasn’t himself either. He seemed upset and distracted. When he tried to trim one of the rosemary topiaries on Friday morning, he cut a gap in the foliage so that it looked more like an umbrella than a Christmas tree. Then he dropped a pot and it cracked open on the concrete floor.

  Joseph frowned as he swept black, moist soil and shards of pottery. Rachel stole a glance at his face and her heart jumped again. Then her stomach clenched up and she sighed. He hadn’t cracked a joke since she had rebuffed him Monday morning. He really did seem contrite. Rachel froze as a thought flashed through her mind. What if he was upset that she was upset about Chrissy? Even better, what if he was upset because he liked her more than Chrissy but didn’t know what to do!

  Rachel tried to push the thought away. It was ridiculous.

  “Go ahead and say something,” Joseph said as he shook the dustpan over a plastic bin.

  “Next time, break a pot before we put in the soil. It would make the cleanup easier.”

  “Great. I’ll remember that.” He walked to the spigot, turned the metal handle, and watched as a plastic bucket filled with water.

  “I was joking.”

  Joseph’s eyes shot to hers. “Were you?”

  “Ya.” She turned back to the rosemary in front of her. “I was.”

  Joseph didn’t answer. Rachel heard water slosh into the bucket, then the rusty grind of the spigot turning off. She forced herself not to look at him again. She had already crossed a line that she hadn’t meant to cross. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t joke with him anymore. Joking was only a hair away from flirting and flirting with Joseph Webber would be ridiculous, now. Preposterous.

  “I guess that pot wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.” Had she just said that out loud? It wasn’t even a good joke! Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?

  “Funny.” Joseph smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  Rachel kept her face down. She could feel her cheeks flame red. No wonder Joseph wanted to run around with some perfect ten named Chrissy! She probably didn’t make corny jokes.

  They ignored each other for the rest of the day.

  Chapter 9

  Monday morning didn’t go much better. Joseph still seemed distracted and upset. Rachel dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, he was having second thoughts about Chrissy. They barely spoke until Joseph shook the last bit of potting soil from the last bag. “We’ll have to get more,” she said as she cut a tiny branch of rosemary. She picked up the broken end and inhaled deeply. She loved the sharp, piney scent and hoped the English tourists would too.

  Joseph folded the empty bag and dropped it in the trash bin. “We can go after lunch. I’ll run over to the phone shanty and call my driver.”

  Rachel stiffened. We? What had she gotten herself into? He assumed that they would go together? She liked the idea, of course. It strengthened her hope. But hope could be a dangerous thing.

  * * *

  Rachel leaned against the car window as the countryside zipped by. The day felt heavy with gray, low-lying clouds and many of the English houses had already turned on their Christmas lights. The red, white, and green cut into the somber weather and cast a cheerful glow. Rachel loved the way Christmas lights transformed a dreary day into a magical one.

  The driver took them to Ken’s Gardens in Smoketown first. Rachel loved the smell of damp earth and fresh, green plants that filled the store. She decided to take her wheelchair, rather than crutches, so she could wander the aisles in a distracted haze, smelling flowers and running her fingers over shiny, feathery leaves.

  “Rachel. We’re not even in the right section.”

  Rachel startled and laughed. “I love it here; don’t you? They’ve got everything.”

  Joseph looked irritated for a moment; then he smiled and shrugged. “I like it too, I guess. If I stop and take the time to appreciate it.” He bent to smell a yellow flower. “I never thought about doing that before.”

  Rachel smelled the flower after he lifted his face from it. “You should.”

  Joseph gave an indulgent smile. “All right. Let’s time our time.”

  Rachel beamed. She liked being here, at her favorite store with her favorite friend. Her smile evaporated as she reminded herself that she wasn’t Joseph’s favorite friend. He had Chrissy. Ach, well. Rachel should take her own advice and enjoy the outing anyway.

  And that’s exactly what she did.

  After lingering far too long among the merchandise, they rushed back to the car with shopping bags stuffed full of potting soil, fertilizer, and miniature clay pots. Rachel balanced the bags in her lap and screeched with laughter as Joseph zipped her across the parking lot. She felt as if she were flying as the chair soared over the pavement and the December air stung her cheeks and lungs.

  “Sorry we took so long,” Joseph said to the driver after they shuddered to a quick stop. The driver shrugged and adjusted the cuff of his red flannel shirt. “I’m getting paid for my time, so you won’t hear any complaints from me.” Joseph transferred their loot and the wheelchair into the trunk, then climbed into the back seat beside Rachel. She caught his eye and grinned. They had been a bit irresponsible to linger so long in the store—but it had been so much fun!

  The car felt snug and secure as the heater blasted warm air against the biting wind. Rachel leaned against Joseph while the driver backed out of the parking space and clicked on his blinker. She didn’t want this day to end. She felt like Cinderella at the ball, knowing that at midnight the clock would strike and she would be alone again, while her prince returned to the arms of a perfect ten Englisher.

  The next stop was the Quilt and Fabric Shack in Bird-in-Hand, the closest town to her house. Rachel loved going into Bird-in-Hand. The shops that lined Old Philadelphia Pike looked like a scene from a postcard. Everything felt neat
and tidy and cozy—red clapboard buildings, white picket fences, white shutters, and handmade quilts and crafts hanging in the store windows. Going with Joseph made it even more perfect.

  They picked out several yards of red and green plaid ribbon at the fabric store. On the way out, Joseph stopped beside a craft kit with a picture of a reindeer hat on the box. He picked up the display hat and shoved it onto his head. Rachel laughed out loud.

  “How do I look?” he asked with a dead-serious expression.

  He looked so ridiculous and adorable that Rachel wanted to hug him. She didn’t, of course. But oh, she wanted to!

  Rachel didn’t want their outing to end. Her heart sank when Joseph helped her into the car and slammed the door shut. She looked out the window and stared at the Christmas tree that glittered and shimmered through the window of the shop across the street. A life with Joseph felt distant and unreachable, just like the twinkling warmth of that tree, trapped behind glass.

  “It’s so cold today,” Joseph said, and blew into his cupped hands. “What do you say we stop into the Bird-in-Hand Bake Shop for some hot chocolate before we head back? It’s on the way.”

  Rachel’s face lit up and she straightened in her seat. “Ya! That’d be great.”

  Joseph smiled and asked the driver to take them there. The driver flicked on the radio and the car filled with music as a deep, rich voice sang “O Come All Ye Faithful.” Rachel felt so warm and cozy inside that she thought she might burst.

  The car breezed past the quaint little boutiques that lined Old Philadelphia Pike. Evergreen boughs, wreaths, and vintage Christmas decorations lined the display windows and wooden porches. When the Bird-in-Hand Farmers Market came into view, Rachel felt a thrill of excitement. She thought about the ribbons and supplies in the trunk of the car and hoped that the tourists would like what she sold. The parking lot looked filled to capacity as Englishers with bright scarves and heavy coats walked toward the glass doors of the indoor market.

  “They’ll be coming for your stuff soon,” Joseph said. Rachel watched a little girl in white knee socks, a red wool coat, and matching red mittens skip across the parking lot with a faceless Amish doll in her hands. The girl adjusted the doll’s black bonnet and kissed the top of its head. “I hope so,” Rachel said. But a stab of doubt cut into her. Could she compete with all the crafts and goodies for sale?

  The driver flicked his signal and pulled into a parking lot across the street from the farmers market. “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes to pick you up. Is that okay?”

  “Ya,” Joseph said. “That sounds about right. With all the tourists here today, it’ll probably take half that time just to get through the line.”

  The driver chuckled. “Probably. Everyone wants to come to Amish Country at Christmastime. There’s nothing quite like it this time of year.” He shrugged and chuckled again. “But I guess you know that.”

  Joseph nodded but didn’t smile. He looked thoughtful and Rachel wondered if he did know that. Or was he still chasing something bigger and brighter among the English? As Joseph helped her out of the car, she studied the picturesque redbrick building and knew that she didn’t want anything more. Everything she wanted was there in Lancaster County, among the rolling hills, cornfields, and Christmas warmth. Why couldn’t Joseph see what he had here, right in front of him?

  As he helped her inside, Rachel wondered if Joseph was beginning to see how good home could be. It had been a lovely outing and the concern that lined his face earlier that day had disappeared. He had even suggested they stop for hot chocolate. It almost felt like a date! She stopped the thought and took a deep breath. She had already been stung once by his kindness. She shouldn’t mistake friendship for romance again. And yet . . . here he was smiling and joking and asking her what she wanted so he could order for her. Maybe he was rethinking his relationship with Chrissy. Maybe he had been distracted and worried because he knew he had to break up with her! Oh, the thought felt too good to be true! Her mother was fond of the saying “If it seems too good to be true, then it probably is.” Rachel hated that saying.

  “I’m going to try the peppermint hot chocolate,” Joseph said as he navigated them through the jumble of chattering tourists. “Me too!” Rachel said. “Or maybe the eggnog latte. It’s hard to decide.” The bakeshop smelled of cinnamon, nutmeg, and evergreen. A variety of seasonal pies and cakes, along with Christmas ornaments, lined the display shelves. Rachel picked up a snow globe and shook it. White glitter drifted over a miniature red barn and buggy. She smiled and set it back.

  “You’ve got time to decide,” Joseph said as they staked out a place in the back of the line.

  “That’s what you think. I can never make up my mind about things like this.”

  “So you’re one of those people who get to the cash register after waiting for fifteen minutes and hold up the line because you still haven’t made up your mind.”

  “Yep.” Rachel flashed a grin.

  “Deciding what to eat is a harder decision, ya?” Joseph scanned the glass case. “The pecan sticky buns look really good.”

  “I want one of the frosted sugar cookies.” She pointed to a snowflake-shaped cookie decorated with blue and silver icing. “That one.”

  “That one it is,” Joseph said, and smiled.

  They chatted as they waited, and Rachel felt surprised when they reached the front of the line. The wait had flown by and she still hadn’t decided whether to get the peppermint hot chocolate with whipped cream or the eggnog latte with whipped cream. At least she had the whipped cream part figured out.

  “Two of those snowflake sugar cookies,” Joseph said to a middle-aged woman behind the counter.

  “You got the same thing I did,” Rachel said.

  “You convinced me.” His eyes moved to the drink menu on the wall. “And to drink?” Joseph saw her hesitate, smiled, and shook his head. “Two peppermint hot chocolates and a small eggnog latte.”

  Rachel looked up at him in surprise. “You got me both?” She felt warm and fuzzy inside. How could such a small gesture make her feel so special?

  Joseph shrugged and looked sheepish. “I guess it’s a little excessive. But I thought you deserved a treat.”

  “Thanks. I like the way you think.”

  He gave a half smile. “I know.”

  They found a round table for two and settled in with their hot drinks and iced sugar cookies. Christmas carols drifted across the seating area from a hidden speaker. Englishers bustled past with shopping bags and trays of desserts.

  Rachel studied Joseph’s expression as she removed the plastic lid from her cardboard cup and blew across the top of her hot chocolate. The minty scent wafted upward and bathed her face in sweet-smelling steam. Rachel felt so happy to see that Joseph looked happy. He didn’t seem worried or distracted anymore. Maybe he really was enjoying his time with her. Maybe he was happy because they were together. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask—in a roundabout way, of course.

  “Joseph.”

  “Ya?” He leveled his warm brown eyes at her.

  His steady gaze sent tingles down her spine. She cleared her throat and tried to keep her mind on task. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been down all week, until we went out. Are you okay?”

  Joseph’s expression tightened. He looked down at the cookie on his paper plate. “Not really.”

  “Ach, what’s wrong?” Rachel leaned forward. Please let it be Chrissy. Please let it be Chrissy. Please let it be Chrissy.

  He hesitated. “I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

  “Go ahead. It’s no burden.” If Chrissy is the problem, that is!

  “Okay.” He took a sip of hot chocolate, swallowed, and set down the cardboard cup. “My bruder is going to go work with my onkel. He buys some of our milk and makes ice cream. I guess you know he owns the creamery down in Strasburg?”

  “Ya.” Rachel frowned. When would Chrissy come into this scenario?

  “My bruder knows
that I’ve been thinking about leaving the Amish and he’s trying to trap me here. He knows I can’t leave if I’m the only son left to run the dairy farm.”

  The frown stayed on Rachel’s face. “Is that all?”

  Joseph flinched. “Ya.” He looked away and took another sip of his hot chocolate. His eyebrows knit together in an angry line. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “Ach. I didn’t mean . . . ” Rachel shook her head. Her hope deflated as her stomach dropped to the floor. This wasn’t about Chrissy. She had been foolish again. He only saw her as a friend. He was doing the wallflower a favor by spending time with her. No, it was worse than that. Her parents were paying him to spend time with her. Oh, the indignity of it all. The indignity!

  And, to make matters even worse, she had just acted uninterested in Joseph’s problems. What a mess she had made.

  Joseph pushed his chair back. “It’s time to get going.”

  “But we just sat down.” Her chest tightened as Joseph stood up. Everything had been going so well. And now it had all crashed down around her again.

  Chapter 10

  As the car roared down Old Philadelphia Pike, Joseph realized that he hadn’t thought about Chrissy the entire time he had been out with Rachel. He had a wonderful good time. It didn’t make any sense—Chrissy was what his English friends told him he should want. Rachel was, well, Rachel. She didn’t sparkle with glamour and mystery the way Chrissy did.

  So why was Rachel more fun?

  Oh well, it didn’t matter anyway. Rachel had pushed him away for the last time. She had made it clear from day one that she didn’t want him invading her space. Today she reiterated that when she dismissed his problems. He had been foolish to think she cared about him or that she was attracted to him. He should have remembered that their relationship wasn’t real—he was a paid employee, not a friend or a suitor.

  Rachel didn’t speak or look at him even though she sat beside him in the back seat. She kept her face turned away and when he glanced over he could only see the curve of her jaw and her white prayer kapp. Joseph sighed and craned his neck so that he could see Bird-in-Hand disappear behind them. He watched the Christmas lights from the shops shimmer and fade into the distance.

 

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