Amish Triplets For Christmas (Amish Country Courtship Book 1)

by Carrie Lighte

  But when he awoke on Saturday, a heavy rain was thrumming against the roof, thwarting his plans and making for another agonizingly long day without talking to Hannah.

  * * *

  The driving rain did nothing to cool the temperature; instead, the air felt tropical and oppressive. Hannah had just completed her housework when her grandfather asked her to accompany him to town. Although it was pouring, the sky was white, not dark. Hannah figured it wouldn’t produce the kind of severe storm that made both her and the horse nervous, so she agreed to go.

  Indeed, by the time they arrived in town, the rain had subsided enough for Hannah to dash into the mercantile without getting drenched, while her grandfather visited the hardware store. Once home, she prepared and served dinner and then cleaned and put away the dishes. Afterward, she felt so listless, she baked a triple batch of molasses cookies to bring to James and Amelia’s home for church. Usually the family hosting church on a particular week provided the midday meal, but they wouldn’t turn away dessert, so Hannah baked enough to feed the entire district.

  “Smells gut,” her grandfather huffed when he entered the kitchen.

  She knew from a lifetime of experience that this was his peace offering—a kind word in exchange for a rash of harsh ones. She didn’t harbor any bitterness toward him because, as he stood before her, his hands behind his back, she saw him for who he was: a man too stubborn to change, but in need of love just as he was.

  “Denki.” She smiled. “I have set some cookies aside for you to have with your coffee.”

  “Here,” he said, placing something on the table. “For the girl and her brothers.”

  It took a moment for Hannah to register what she’d been given: a wooden board, sanded smooth, with two lengths of rope knotted through each end. She realized this was the reason he insisted on going to town today: he needed rope to make a tree swing.

  “The kinner will enjoy this very much. Denki, Groossdaadi.”

  Her grandfather grunted and accepted the cup of coffee and plate of cookies she extended to him.

  “Their daed will have to hang it for them,” he said before heading to the parlor. Lest she forget, he reminded her, “And he will need to take it down before they leave. It is only temporary.”

  * * *

  Sawyer was relieved when the Sabbath came. His cousins became easily frustrated around the children, and they were especially exasperated when they were cooped up for hours together in the house. He himself felt more and more irascible as the day wore on, the rain a steady deluge against the windows.

  “There’s no sense in all of us squeezing into one buggy,” he announced on Sunday morning. “Besides, my horse needs to stretch its legs.”

  He left early with the children, intending to speak to Hannah before the services began. He hoped she would be willing to keep an eye on Sarah, Simon and Samuel, since the men sat separately from the women and young children during the services.

  But no sooner had he hitched his horse and crossed the yard than Doris appeared out of nowhere.

  “Guder mariye, Sawyer,” she greeted him. “Won’t your onkel and cousins be coming this morning?”

  “Guder mariye,” he repeated. “Jah, they’ll be here soon. We traveled separately.”

  Sawyer surreptitiously scanned the yard as he was talking to Doris and spotted Hannah far across the lawn.

  But before Hannah neared, Doris suggested, “I will watch the kinner, so you may go join the other men. They’re over there.”

  Sawyer understood it was customary in this district for the men to gather outside in small groups, usually around the barn, before the services began. Likewise, the women congregated in the kitchen and parlor. At the appropriate time and according to a designated order, the men and women would file into the hosts’ meeting room—the Hooleys’ basement, in this instance—to worship together. As Jacob Stolzfus signaled to him, Sawyer reluctantly accepted Doris’s offer and tramped toward the barn.

  A few minutes later, Sawyer took a place on a bench toward the back of the men’s section. He hoped Hannah wouldn’t think sending the children with Doris was his preference. In fact, he hoped no one thought that, or he’d be the talk of the district.

  Yet following lunch, he found out that was exactly what people did think. When he joined a circle of men cavorting in the yard, Jacob commented, “We saw you chatting with Doris this morning and noticed your kinner with her, as well. What is the meaning of that?”

  “There is no meaning,” he stammered. “She offered to oversee the kinner during the service and I accepted.”

  “Are you quite certain about that?”

  “Of course I am certain.”

  “But we have heard her say she has come round to the farm several times recently, supposedly on the pretense of helping with household chores,” Jacob pressed. “She’s an unmarried woman and you’re a widower...yet you still deny she has any designs on you or that you have any interest in courting her?”

  In a resounding voice, Sawyer countered, “How many times do I have to tell you, I have no romantic intentions toward that woman? If you must know, I think she behaves more like a silly schoolgirl than a schoolteacher. She is helping my family during a time of need, that is all,” he said loudly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must call my kinner.”

  * * *

  “There’s no need to call them—they are all right here behind you. I brought them over so I could say hello before I left. So, hello, Sawyer. Hello, gentlemen,” Hannah said pointedly, acknowledging the small group of men, who suddenly kicked at the dirt or surveyed the clouds. Then, “I will see you tomorrow, Simon, Sarah and Samuel, Gott willing.”

  She had never felt so humiliated in her life, and she couldn’t get away from Sawyer quickly enough. His opinion of her was shameful on its own, but did he have to share it with the other men in her district?

  “Hannah, please wait!” he shouted to her, but she pretended to be as deaf as her grandfather as she marched toward the buggy where he was waiting for her.

  She was relieved when her grandfather worked the horse into a brisk pace. Back at home, he wandered to his room for a nap and she to the porch to wallow in a good hard cry. She was blowing her nose when a buggy she recognized came up the lane. It was too late to dash inside: Sawyer had already seen her.

  “Guder nammidaag, Hannah,” he called with a friendly wave, as if he hadn’t just insulted her and belittled her reputation in front of a half dozen other men.

  “Sawyer,” she said flatly, glancing beyond him toward the buggy. The children didn’t appear to be in it. “Where are Sarah, Simon and Samuel?”

  “I left them with my onkel,” he replied, removing his hat. “Doris said she would see to it he didn’t forget to bring them home when he was ready to leave,” he joked, but she wouldn’t let him wrest a smile from her lips.

  He shifted his weight and continued feebly, “Let’s just hope she doesn’t try to comb Sarah’s hair again. Sarah complained she didn’t do it as carefully as you do—she said it hurt her scalp—and it doesn’t appear as neat, either.”

  “I’m sure Doris was trying her best.” Hannah’s temper flared as she rose from her chair. If Sawyer thought insulting Doris was going to distract her from how he insulted her, he was gravely mistaken.

  “Of course,” Sawyer responded. “It goes without saying Doris did a much better job than I’ve ever done. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

  “Just as you didn’t mean to sound ungrateful when you said what you said to Jacob Stolzfus and the others after church? That certainly sounded ungrateful to me. And mean-spirited, as well.”

  Sawyer’s mouth stretched into a grim line. “I’m sorry. You are right. I said things I shouldn’t have.”

  “Why are you sorry, Sawyer?” Hannah asked, placing her hands on her hips
and glaring down at him on the bottom porch stair. “Is it because your words were untrue? Or is it because they were unkind?”

  Sawyer kicked a pebble. “They most definitely were unkind. As for being untrue or not...I am sorry, Hannah, but I cannot be dishonest. I do find Doris’s behavior silly at times. My own sister Gertrude is half as young but acts twice as wise.”

  “Doris?” Hannah gulped. Her knees felt as if they would buckle behind her.

  “I know she is a friend of yours, and because of that, I don’t doubt she has redeeming qualities,” he answered, leaping up the stairs to stand in front of her. “But I have only experienced her superficial side. The other men were pressuring me to claim my intentions toward her, of which I have none. Still, I was wrong to say what I said. Please forgive me for speaking out of turn.”

  As the realization of her mistake washed over Hannah, she struggled to gain her composure. She was so relieved she didn’t accuse Sawyer of what she thought him guilty of saying about her—he would have thought her ten times more nonsensical than Doris.

  “I understand,” she said slowly. “Although I am not certain the situation warrants it after all, I accept your apology. Especially since you came all this way to express you intended no harm.”

  * * *

  Sawyer took a step backward and leaned against the railing.

  “Actually,” he admitted, avoiding her radiant blue eyes, “I came because I was afraid I caused you an earlier offense.”

  “What offense was that?” she asked, her lips pursed.

  Sawyer didn’t know how he could answer her question without drawing attention to his behavior. If he hadn’t offended her in the first place, he didn’t want to point it out now.

  Stuttering, he replied, “It’s just...I, er...I worry I may have been too intrusive. Taking liberties when I shouldn’t have.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she replied. “But I assure you it isn’t the case. I am always happy to see you arrive. You and the kinner are most wilkom, regardless of whether they are under my charge or you are simply visiting.”

  “In that case—” he grinned at her “—might you have any cookies to offer your visitor? I heard everyone raving about them at lunch, but I never got around to tasting one before I left.”

  “Sweets before supper? Tsk, tsk,” Hannah said in mock consternation, and they both chuckled. “Please, take a seat and I’ll fix coffee.”

  After the screen door slammed behind Hannah, Sawyer teetered nervously in the second rocking chair, running his fingers through his hair. He was glad he wore the fresh shirt Doris had laundered, and he smoothed the fabric down against his chest.

  When Hannah returned, she told him a bit about her sister over the refreshments, and he talked about Gertrude and Kathryn.

  “I can tell from the stories they share that the kinner adore Gertrude,” Hannah remarked. “I hope to be that kind of ant to my sister’s bobbel.”

  “I have every confidence you will be,” Sawyer stated. He stammered before saying, “You mentioned my being ungrateful...and I, um, I want you to know how much I appreciate it that you are the one caring for my kinner.”

  “You pay me well,” Hannah replied. “Too well, I think. But beyond payment, I am happy to do it. We are, after all, neighbors. For a time, anyway. I’d like to believe we are friends, as well.”

  “We are indeed,” Sawyer declared vehemently, and then he immediately felt self-conscious. “As your friend—as your neighbor...that is, as your friendly neighbor, I want you to know if you are ever in need of my help, I hope you will ask me.”

  “Really?” she asked, laughing in her fetching manner. “Because there is something that would be helpful.”

  “What is it?”

  “I will be right back,” she said and collected the dishes. When she emerged from the house, she was carrying a wooden swing. “I’m too short to hang this on the willow, and Groossdaadi’s balance is unreliable because of his hearing problem.”

  Sawyer laughed heartily. “I’m definitely the right man for this task.”

  He retrieved the ladder from the shed, and slight as she was, Hannah’s firm grasp held it steady. But even before he ascended the ladder, he felt twelve feet tall.

  Chapter Eight

  Sarah was so delighted by the swing that when Hannah’s grandfather entered the house for supper, she ran pell-mell toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “I pumped so high I nearly kicked the clouds,” she yelled, and although Hannah’s grandfather couldn’t see her mouth to read her lips, Hannah sensed he understood Sarah’s elation.

  He patted the top of her head and then squawked, “Bah,” before loping away.

  “Sarah swinged the longest,” Samuel complained.

  “I swunged,” Sarah emphasized. “And I gave you both a turn.”

  Samuel ignored her, saying, “I want a longer turn after dinner.”

  “Actually,” Hannah interrupted, “any kinner who don’t quarrel during supper time will be allowed to take their daed to the stream when he arrives this evening.”

  “Really?” Simon questioned.

  “Really. It’s so muggy tonight I think your daed might appreciate the cool water.”

  Sawyer grinned when Hannah suggested it, and the children raced ahead, shouting, “This way, Daed!”

  Before Sawyer and Hannah had a chance to remove their own shoes and socks, the triplets waded into the stream. Samuel, Sarah and Simon bent down, drawing water in their cupped hands. They formed a circle, their golden heads nearly touching as they studied their find.

  “Look, Daed, there are bits of gold dust in the water,” Sarah gasped.

  “I think that must be mica,” Sawyer answered, drawing nearer.

  “Neh, it’s gold. Come closer,” Simon beckoned.

  When Sawyer leaned in to get a look, the children splashed the water toward his face. “Surprise!” they yelled in concert.

  He backed away and gave such a hearty laugh that droplets of water flew from his beard.

  “Teacher showed us that trick,” Simon said, doubling over.

  “Oh, did she, now?” Sawyer asked. “Well, we’ll see how she likes it.” He lifted a handful at Hannah, who kicked water back toward him, squealing.

  For the next hour, Sawyer overturned rocks and explored the banks with Hannah and the children, until Hannah heard a rumble.

  “A storm is coming. We must hurry back,” she warned.

  “I think it’s still in the distance,” Sawyer said, just as a flash illuminated off the water.

  “Neh, it’s here. It’s here!” she cried frantically. “Run!”

  She swiped up her socks and shoes and then grabbed Sarah by the hand. “Get the boys,” she hollered over her shoulder to Sawyer, who already had rounded them up and was close on her heels.

  They raced toward the house against the gusty wind that drove the rain sideways into their skin like hot bullets. As they crossed the open field and sprinted up a slope, Hannah’s bare feet slipped on the wet grass and she sprawled flat on her stomach on the ground. Above them, thunder crackled and a fork of lightning ripped the sky in two.

  “Keep running! Get into the workshop,” she urged Sarah. “Don’t try to make it to the house!”

  “Go!” Sawyer commanded the boys, thrusting his shoes into their hands.

  He scooped Hannah into his arms and didn’t stop running until he was safely inside her grandfather’s workshop. Only then did she exhale, uncertain whether it was thunder or her own heartbeat that was reverberating so raucously in her ears.

  * * *

  Sawyer gently placed Hannah down, but as soon as her foot touched the floor, she winced.

  “Wrap your arms around my neck,” he said, shifting so she could reach. As
he situated her onto a stool, he could feel her fluttering like a bird against his chest.

  “Aw, look at this!” Simon stared in awe. The three children were mesmerized by a shelf of toys Hannah’s grandfather had made. Sarah stood motionless in front of the dollhouse, her mouth agape.

  “You may look, but don’t touch,” Sawyer instructed them. To Hannah he asked, “May I examine your foot?”

  Although the light was waning, when he ran his rough hands over her elegant ankle, he peered into her eyes for a sign of pain. She flinched when a roar of thunder shook the little shed.

  “Does that hurt?” he asked.

  “Neh,” she replied. “It wasn’t that. I know I shouldn’t be nervous because Gott protects as well as He provides, but these storms make me come unraveled.”

  Oh, so that’s why she flinches at loud noises, Sawyer thought. That, and her groossdaadi’s voice.

  Sawyer cupped her heel in his hand and examined her ankle once again. “I think you only twisted it,” he announced. “It’s not even a sprain. It’s not swelling.”

  “I’m so embarrassed,” she admitted.

  “Why? A twisted ankle can hurt as much as a sprain. You were charging quite fast when it happened. I imagine the pain shot through you like a knife.”

  “I’m embarrassed by my anxious behavior,” she confessed. “What kind of role model am I for the kinner, to be afraid of thunderstorms?”

  “The kinner, I’m sorry to say, aren’t paying you any mind,” he replied. “They’re transfixed by the toys your groossdaadi created.”

  A clap of thunder so startled Hannah that she nearly toppled off the stool. Sawyer clasped her by her shoulders, helping her adjust her balance.

  “I’m glad they aren’t bothered by storms.” She sighed. “I should have outgrown this fear as surely as I outgrew my childhood dresses, but some memories are more difficult to forget than others.”

  Thinking of Eliza’s illness, Sawyer vigorously nodded in agreement. “Did you experience an unusually violent storm as a child?”