Tobias eyed him. “What’ll you do all day?”
“Well, let’s see. I’ve been told there’ll be a cookout, volleyball and softball games, a hayride that’ll last for at least an hour, a singing, and a bonfire.”
Tobias shoved his hands into his pockets. “Why can’t I go?”
“It’s for singles.”
Tobias rubbed his face, indicating he didn’t have a beard. “I ain’t married.”
“You can’t go, Son. It’s for people at least sixteen years old.” Andy pulled out a tape measure and put it against the two-by-four, his smirk undeniable. “Are you and Sadie staying at the gathering the whole time or coming by here after a while?”
“Don’t know yet.” Levi took a step back, inspecting his work. He shook the railing—steady as could be.
Tobias looked up, his eyes wide. “I hear something.” He ran across the backyard and took off toward the front of the house.
Andy marked the wood with a pencil. “I can’t believe Lizzy is still having those gatherings each year. I went to three before marrying, so my first time would’ve been twelve years ago.”
Levi ran his hands across each nail, tapping certain ones a little deeper. “I’ve never been.”
“Somebody your age and single shoulda been six or seven times by now. You do know Lizzy invites Amish from as far away as Illinois.”
“Are you griping at me about girls again?”
“Sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess.”
Tobias came around the corner of the shop. “Sadie’s here.”
“She is?” Levi left the gazebo, a smile tugging at his lips.
Tobias hurried back along with him.
Sadie had some craft items spread out in his shop, so maybe she needed something from her stash. Sometimes she worked here when there was no more shelf space at Mammi Lee’s. It took quite a bit of room when juggling wreaths, candles, soaps, and dolls during the same workweek.
She came into view, wearing a purple dress and carrying a large basket lined with red fabric. Tobias was in front of her, walking backward and jabbering.
Levi spun his hammer around a few times, making the head of it rotate similar to a helicopter. “Is it soup yet?”
She’d made a batch of soap a couple of days ago that came out the consistency of soup—and he hadn’t stopped harassing her about it yet.
Her eyes moved from Tobias to him. “Leave me alone, Fisher.”
The way she talked—those firm words spoken dryly—made him chuckle. It was her best effort to sound tough despite teasing, and he knew she’d dish out equal amounts of whatever pestering he came up with.
He shoved his hammer into its loop on his tool belt and took the basket from her. “Or what? You’ll wash my mouth out with soup … I mean soap?”
She pursed her lips, looking peaceful and sweet as he harassed her, but he knew she wouldn’t just leave it at a smile. There would be a price to pay.
“Excuse me?” Levi leaned in, cupping one hand behind his ear. “What was that you said, Sadie Yoder?”
Sadie flashed him a mocking look of anger before spotting his brother. “Hey, Andy, how are you?”
Andy nodded, giving a welcoming smile as he remained at the saw-horse. “Morning, Sadie.”
She pointed at the gazebo. “It’s looking good. I suppose that means you managed to make Levi use a straightedge and a level.”
“Of course.” Andy winked at Tobias. “It’s standing straight, ain’t it?”
“Hey.” Levi waved an arm. “I’m right here as you insult me.”
She eyed him from head to foot. “With a tool belt, a girly basket in your hands, and doing absolutely nothing.”
“Sadie.” Tobias looked up, eyes bright with questions. “Can we sit on the fence and watch Levi work with the horses again?”
She glanced at Levi before clearing her throat. “He needs us to give him some lip while he’s training, doesn’t he?”
Tobias grinned. “I think so.”
“I don’t agree.” Levi shrugged, but he actually enjoyed their harassment while he worked.
“Tobias, give me a hand.” Andy held out a pencil, probably aiming to keep him distracted so Sadie and Levi could talk.
Levi opened the screen door to the workshop, and Sadie went in ahead of him. She took the basket and unloaded dried flowers, wire, and half-made wreaths.
“Lizzy asked me to bring centerpieces for the tables at the cookout, and I’ve cleaned Mammi’s small patch of woods for other projects.” She picked up her now-empty basket. “You can go on working while I hunt for flowers.”
“Me, do woodwork when I can pick flowers?” He opened the door again. “No way.” He could make up next week for taking off early today. Besides, he’d worked long, hard hours six days a week for years. Sadie was here for only two more months, so he had no problem taking off when it suited him.
They headed for a trail that hadn’t been all that familiar to him before he’d started helping Sadie gather items for her wreaths. Now that she lived closer to Hertzlers’, she was able to fill orders quickly and get them to the store without cost or delay. She was making great money.
“Uncle Levi?”
Andy shushed his son, but Sadie bumped her shoulder into Levi’s. “Let the boy come with us.”
Levi turned, motioning for him.
Andy angled a look at them. “You sure?”
“We’re sure.”
Tobias thundered past them. “I bet I can find the best flowers again.”
They went deeper in the woods, leaving the trail at will and quipping nonsense at each other as they found treasures for the wreaths.
“Tobias,” Sadie called, “kumm.” She pointed to a patch of Johnny-jump-ups. Tobias headed their way.
Basket in hand, Sadie straddled a log, aiming to get what was on the other side.
Levi leaned against a tree, keeping an eye on Tobias as he made his way to Sadie. When Tobias passed him, Levi bumped the hat off his head.
“Uncle Levi!” Tobias bent to grab it.
Sadie screamed an ear-piercing shrill.
Levi bolted upright, but he was sure he knew what the problem was.
“It’s something furry!” She hopped and danced before jumping up on the log. She shook her arms before gasping. Apparently she’d seen the culprit afresh. And a blur of purple hurtled toward him.
Before Levi could react, she jumped into his arms. “Ew, yuck!” She shuddered against him.
He didn’t know what to do or say. While seeing a critter out here wasn’t new, and it always caused her to immediately panic, Sadie jumping into his arms was a first.
A mouse ran out from under the log, and Levi laughed so hard it was difficult not to fall over backward.
“It’s not funny!” Sadie smacked him with the flat of her fist. “Geh.” She shooed the creature away as if it could see her antics from deep in the brush.
“I fear I’d be dead if a mouse had scurried out at any point that night I was thrown from my horse.”
She studied the ground. “Where’d it go?”
He winked at Tobias and began searching around while holding her. “I don’t know … wait, it’s on my shoe.” He kicked one foot up.
Sadie fled from his arms and didn’t stop until she was on the log. “Where?”
Levi couldn’t stop laughing. He didn’t know which was funnier: the color of Tobias’s face as he chortled or the look of terror on Sadie’s face as she searched for the tiny, furry creature.
She pointed at him. “I’ll get you for that, Fisher.”
“I doubt you can top that, Sadie.”
But he couldn’t deny he looked forward to her trying. They had two months to go. Plenty of time for her to plot against him.
And for him to foil her plans each time.
Jonah stretched and reached across the bed for his wife. When he felt only air, he rubbed his hands across the sheets. Cold. Not only was she missing, she’d been gone for a while. He opene
d his eyes. Rays of golden light streamed through the windows.
He pushed back the thermal blanket and quilt and sat up. The room was unusually warm for late November. Had Beth been up toting wood and stoking fires while he slept? On a Sunday morning?
He slid into his pants and house shoes, pulled the suspenders over his shoulders, and grabbed his cane. His bad leg yelped in pain as he hurried down the hall without giving the muscles time to warm up. While passing the potbellied stove in the living room, he held out his hand. Heat radiated from it. That wasn’t the only thing in this house that had an internal fire licking at it.
He and Beth had argued more than once about this. The last time occurred a couple of months ago when he’d walked into the store after hours and seen her at the top of a six-foot ladder getting something off a shelf. That explosion had been a real barnburner, but he’d won. Or so he’d thought.
Walking through the sitting room, he saw a roaring fire in the hearth.
“Beth!” Where was she? They had an agreement—no climbing ladders and no toting anything heavy. “Beth!”
Through the french doors a flash of patchwork caught his eye. She stood at the railing on the porch, a quilt wrapped around her as she studied the fields. He grabbed his coat from the rack and went outside.
She turned—steam rising from a mug of dark liquid in her hands. Her raven hair was in a long braid that draped down one shoulder. Her blue eyes were filled with peace and love. “Good morning.”
Good morning? Was she kidding? “You should’ve woken me.”
Her smile toyed with his emotions. She deserved his wrath.
“Look.” She nodded toward the west. Low-hanging gray clouds hovered on the horizon. “I think we may see the first snow flurries of the year today.” He knew she loved snow and all it symbolized, the things that had gone on between them. The fallen tree he’d dragged through the snow and up a ravine before he even knew her. He’d used it to carve a scene on a large base, one she’d stumbled upon in a store, and it’d called to her. It was the reason they’d eventually met. Snow reminded her of the storm he’d rescued her from in the sleigh he’d refurbished for her.
Despite the memories he held firm to his anger. “I’m not pleased right now.”
She smiled. “Your little one is leaping for joy this morning. I think he or she senses the beauty of today.” She opened one edge of her blanket, inviting him to place his hand on her round belly.
He sighed and set his cane aside before stepping up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and placed one hand inside her quilt. The baby jolted numerous times, kicking or punching as if playing a game. “What am I going to do with you, Beth Hertzler Kinsinger?” The scent of lavender clung to her skin, and he kissed her neck.
“I don’t know.” She angled her head, inviting more kisses. “Love me? Create a family with me?”
“Attach bells to you.”
She laughed. “Do what?”
“You’ve been good lately, well behaved as long as I’m on my feet, keeping an eye on you. Bells will give me a way to know when you get up.”
“Ah. I see.” She placed her hand on his as it pressed against her stomach. “Just make sure they’re sleigh bells, and I won’t mind too much.”
He tugged her, and she faced him. He put his forehead against hers. “Please.”
“Not even firewood to warm our home for you?”
“Not even.”
“You do know you’re being ridiculous and demanding—two things I did not expect from you when we married.”
He cradled her face, still mesmerized by all God had done in bringing them together. “I’d gladly strike a match and burn down our home, the business, and every item we possess if it meant I could keep you even a little safer.”
“That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?”
“What I think is that you don’t understand. You mean everything to me, and we’re expecting something that cannot be replaced.”
“It’s a between Sunday, and I wanted to let you sleep.”
“So your desire for me to get extra sleep matters more than following what your husband feels is important?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Not when you put it that way.”
It wasn’t like her to be emotional, and he knew she struggled at times with the hormones coursing through her body.
She shrugged. “I don’t believe it’s necessary to be that pampered, but I’ll not tote another thing.”
“Gut.” He moved his lips to hers, and their kiss lingered. He then stared into her eyes. “Extremely warm outside to be after Thanksgiving, ya?”
She giggled.
He opened the door for her to go inside. “So what has you up and moving like this on our off Sunday?”
“You know.” She took off the quilt and laid it across the back of a kitchen chair. “The indoor picnic Mattie and I planned.”
Jonah took the mug of coffee from her hands and took a sip. “But that’s not until this afternoon.”
“Life is too exciting right now to sleep.” She put her hand on her round belly.
For a moment Jonah saw a tiny bit of what his wife was feeling. Their child’s first steps, first day at school, and first time to ride a horse. It would all take place in the blink of an eye, and he understood her need to soak in the moments.
But for all the excitement that radiated from her, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling nagging at him.
Nippy air and the familiar aromas of a barn—sweet feed, hay, and animals in wintry weather—surrounded Sadie as she removed the rigging that connected Bay to the carriage.
Mammi went to the bag of feed and scooped up the dry mixture. “We heard three good sermons today, ya?”
Church had been at the Ebersol place today, which was where she and Mammi Lee had been since morning. It’d be dark in an hour. Between the three-hour meeting, the after-church meal, and the long afternoon of fellowshipping, Sadie had been gone all day.
“I’m sure the preachers touched many a heart.” But the truth was, Sadie hadn’t heard much of what’d been said. Then as now, her mind lingered elsewhere. Thoughts of Levi drifted through her nonstop. Reflections of him—their many dates, hundreds of conversations, working side by side to make items for the dry goods store, visits with family and friends—all of it seemed to remain uncomfortably close.
Mammi’s gait was slow and steady as she walked to the stall where Sadie would lead Bay in a few minutes. Mammi spread the feed into the trough. “Seems to me like you oughta attend a few Sunday meetings in Levi’s district soon.”
Sadie moved slower than her grandmother as she slid the bridle off Bay and attached a loose-fitting harness. Her muscles seemed as distracted as her heart. It was a between Sunday for Levi’s district, and although they spent a lot of time together, they didn’t attend meetings with each other. She wasn’t sure why. “He hasn’t asked me to.”
Mammi shuffled across the hard-packed dirt, collecting pieces of straw on the wide rim of her flat black shoes as she went. “But you two are going to tonight’s singing, right?”
She shook her head. “Not this time.”
“Why?” Mammi jammed the scoop into the dry feed and dusted off her gloved hands.
Sadie wasn’t sure about that either—except maybe she and Levi both knew they’d grown too close. “I don’t know.” They’d been dating and almost inseparable for twelve weeks. Their time together would be up in a month. Maybe he was laying the foundation for folks to believe they were having trouble.
But she wasn’t ready.
She’d let her guard down with Levi, and she believed he’d done the same with her. He’d gotten under her skin, and she didn’t know how to free herself of him. Or even if she wanted to.
Mammi rested her hand on Sadie’s shoulder. “Everything okay between you two?”
Tears pricked Sadie’s eyes. “Ya. I … I hope so.” Weeks ago if Mammi had asked that, Sadie would have probably given the same answer, only
then it would have been part of the show she and Levi were putting on.
The soft wrinkles around Mammi’s eyes creased. Her smile held confidence in the situation. “I’m sure how he feels. I see it in his eyes.”
Did Mammi really?
That was comforting.
And terrifying.
“You coming?” Mammi headed for the small door at the back of the barn. They’d already struggled through closing the double-wide door to keep out the cold.
“In a bit.” Sadie stroked Bay’s forehead and face, trying to sense what Levi sensed when training horses. It was as if he became one with the animal, seeing and feeling what the horse did, and then worked with the massive creature from its peculiarities and personality.
Closing her eyes, she let her fingertips caress Bay’s neck. The mare’s skin radiated warmth and quivered under Sadie’s light touch. What must a saddle feel like to one that responded to such a feathery stroke?
In Sadie’s mind, she could see Levi working a horse and hear his gentle commands. The features on his face altered ever so slightly, and she’d learned which tiny shift in expression meant he was perplexed or pleased or any of the other dozens of emotions that ran through him while training.
Someone cleared his throat, and she opened her eyes. Levi stood a few feet away, his black felt hat matching his winter coat as he studied her with quiet curiosity.
Her heart beat faster, but words failed her.
He moved in closer and placed his hands on the horse’s neck. “If this was your first time getting to know the horse, you’d have to let go of your will.” He drew a deep breath. “Relax, Sadie.” He put his cold hand over hers. “It’s not about what you want from the horse. Release your expectations. Your preconceived ideas.”
The seconds ticked by.
“When I’m with a horse,”—Levi moved his fingertips across the back of her hand as if willing her to feel the horse’s heart—“I have to set aside what the buyer has told me or what he hopes to gain. Let nothing get between you and simply accepting this creature for who she is.”
Sadie inhaled and exhaled, trying to free her mind so she could sense what the horse felt. Levi’s hand was warm now, his breathing less smooth than when he’d arrived. He wanted something, longed for—
The Dawn of Christmas: A Romance from the Heart of Amish Country Page 10
