The Amish Christmas Sleigh

by Kelly Long

  Jess eased down into a chair and smiled as the children sang. It had been so long since he had simply sat and enjoyed himself. Every night he read his Bible, but somehow that wasn’t the same as letting the children’s sweet voices wash over him. He really needed to get some help at the farm so he could relax just a little. That was the problem with dairy farming; there wasn’t a slow season.

  The last song ended and the children made their way back to their seats.

  “Here.” The same little girl who had announced that they had to sing to him thrust the visitors’ notebook under his nose. Apparently she had appointed herself as keeper of classroom traditions. “You have to sign our log.”

  He took the book and the pen she offered, flipping through the plastic-covered pages. He would sign the book as quickly as possible so he could talk to Bernice, then get on back to his farm. But as the pages turned, one in particular caught his attention. He stopped, his gaze running over the brightly drawn picture. A house sat in the middle with smoke coming out of the chimney, a man in a blue shirt with a black hat stood to one side with three girls next to him. It didn’t take a man with more schooling than he had to figure out it was his family. A brown-haired angel floated in the sky close to the smoke. Linda Grace.

  He trailed his fingers over the image as tears stung his eyes. A person might not know if they were destined for heaven when they died, but he was as sure as the artist that his wife was with God.

  He had seen the school’s visitor log in the past. All the standard questions were there: name, age, parents’ names, pet peeve, likes, and wishes. It was the last one that captured his attention. A new mamm to help my dat and to love me and my sisters, Constance Schmucker. His gaze settled on the pet peeve. My dat works too much and doesn’t have time to spend with me and my sisters.

  “Jess?”

  He jerked his gaze from the book to the woman standing next to him. Was she the woman his daughters thought would be a suitable mamm for them?

  He cleared his throat. “Can we talk outside?” He didn’t need to add that he wanted privacy away from the many little ears that could overhear what he needed to say.

  “Of course,” she said. “Let me get my coat.”

  They walked out onto the small porch together. Instinctively he held her elbow as they made their way down the steps. That one touch made him miss being a husband, having a woman, a companion. The soft to his tough. The beautiful to his rough edges.

  “I need to apologize to you,” he said, reluctantly releasing her just this side of the playground.

  “You get right to the point.”

  “It’s cold out here.” But in truth he didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t about to explain his daughter’s actions and plan to get herself a new mamm.

  She nodded. “Accepted.”

  “You’re making this too easy on me.”

  She smiled, then sniffed in the cold air. “I’m hoping that you will accept my apology, as well.”

  “What do you have to be sorry over?”

  “Jumping to conclusions about your family.”

  He frowned.

  “Your sister explained the situation to me. That your daughters thought to get us together.” She smiled, a bit shyly. Or was that understanding? “And the girls apologized this morning.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  She shook her head. “It was a very nice compliment.” She really was very pretty when she wasn’t reprimanding him for one thing or another.

  “You shouldn’t have to worry about anything like this happening in the future.”

  “Oh?” she asked. “Why is that?”

  “Because I’m going to find myself a wife.”

  Jess couldn’t believe his good fortune. It wasn’t the easiest thing he had ever done, going to Bernice Yoder and apologizing for his behavior. He wasn’t sure how he felt about his sister telling off on his girls, but it was done now.

  He tromped up the porch steps leading to his eldra’s house and let himself in. “Mamm,” he called, watching for her to come out of the kitchen as usual. And she did. That was one of the most comforting things about his mamm; she could always be depended on to be the same time and again.

  Mamm dried her hands on a towel, her smile stretching so wide it nearly ran off her face. “Jess. What a surprise! Come, sit, and have some pie.”

  He smiled and followed her into the kitchen. Before long he had a fresh cup of coffee and a slice of snitz pie in front of him.

  “What’s on your mind, son?”

  He shrugged, then swallowed a bite of the delicious treat. “Why does there have to be anything on my mind?”

  “You haven’t been for a visit in months. Why would I not think you have something to talk about?”

  He pushed his plate away. Suddenly the pie wasn’t quite as tasty as it had been before.

  “Well, there is one thing.” Was he really going to do this? “I’ve decided to remarry.”

  His mother jerked away so fast Jess was tempted to ask her if her neck was hurt. “Remarried?”

  “Jah.” He took a sip of his coffee for something to do, then gave an awkward nod. “It’s time, I think.”

  “When’s this wedding, and who are you planning on marrying?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know when the wedding will be, or you don’t know who you are marrying?”

  “Both, jah.”

  She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, that mamm look on her face. “If you don’t know who or when, how do you know it’s going to happen?”

  “Because it has to.”

  She raised one golden brow at him, but otherwise simply waited for him to continue.

  “The girls need a mother. Linda Grace has been gone for a while now.” He even said her name out loud without those stabbing pains in his chest. Yes, it was definitely time to move on. But the one person who kept popping into his thoughts was the one person who suited him least. “Bernice Yoder.”

  “You’re going to marry Bernice Yoder?”

  He shook his head. “No-no-no-no.” Had he said her name aloud? He waved his hands around as if to erase the thought, but it was still there, lingering in the kitchen like the smell of baking bread and his mother’s lemon furniture polish.

  Marrying Bernice Yoder. The thought did not warrant such study, but it worked its way into his mind and wouldn’t turn loose. But that was the last thing he needed, to marry a busybody who wanted to stick her nose in his business at every turn, challenge all of his methods and all the hard work he put into his family. Jah, she had accepted his apology, but how long would it be before she came to the house again?

  Just because she was pretty and smelled nice . . . well, that didn’t mean a thing. He was just overworked and tired of the smells that surrounded him. Seven days a week of smelling nothing but bovine was enough to make almost any other scent pleasing.

  “Are you still with us?”

  Jess snapped to attention and cleared the tangle of thoughts from his head. “Jah.”

  “Would it be so bad?” she asked.

  “Would what be so bad?” Reba asked as she swept into the room. Whereas he took after their mother, his sister was the image of their father, sleek brown hair, soft gray eyes, and impish dimples that framed both sides of her mouth. She pointed to his abandoned plate and the half-eaten slice of pie. “Are you not going to eat that?”

  He shook his head and pushed it toward her.

  “So?” she asked around the first bite. “What would be bad?”

  “Nothing,” Jess muttered.

  “Marrying Bernice Yoder.”

  Reba dropped the fork, her mouth hanging open. “You’re marrying Bernice Yoder?”

  “No!” The word exploded from him.

  “Close your mouth, Reba.”

  He turned toward his mother. “See? This is exactly how rumors get started.”

  “Don’t look at me. You’re the one coming in here and talking abo
ut getting married,” Reba said, finally recovering her bearings.

  “She does have a point.” As usual his mother took Reba’s side. He guessed that was what happened when there was only one girl in a family of boys.

  “I didn’t say I was marrying Bernice Yoder. You did,” he protested.

  “But you did say you were getting remarried,” Reba said. “Jah?”

  He nodded.

  “So why not Bernice Yoder?” she continued.

  “That’s what I said,” his mother added.

  Jess pushed his chair back and rose to his feet.

  “Where are you going?” Reba asked. She set the empty saucer on the table.

  Away from here. “I’ve got milking to do.”

  His mother frowned. “You just got here.”

  “It’s only two-thirty,” Reba added.

  “Jah,” he replied. What else could he say?

  “Are you going to see Bernice?” his sister asked.

  “No.” He pulled on his coat and hat and reached for the door.

  “It might not be a bad idea,” his sister teased.

  “Bye, Mamm,” he returned.

  “Good-bye, son,” she said.

  He let himself out of the house, certain he could hear his sister’s laughter trailing along behind him.

  CHAPTER 6

  Jess Schmucker had decided to remarry. The news burned through the district in record time. The thought filled Bernice with a strange combination of anxiety and sadness.

  So what if Jess was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen? He spent too much time hollering and frowning. And if there was one thing she knew, all things happened at God’s will. Unfortunately it hadn’t been in His plans for her to have a husband and family of her own. But to think that Jess was out to pick a wife.... Oh, to have a man like him to set his sights on a girl like her. Well, it was nothing more than a dream, and one that would never be fulfilled. Best to clear those thoughts from her mind as quickly as possible.

  Plus that was without considering the fact that she had accused him of neglecting his own children. Her face filled with heat whenever she thought of how she had come to his house to “help,” only to discover his girls were crying out for attention.

  “So will you go or what?”

  Bernice turned her attention from her coffee to her cousin Sarah. Sarah King was the reason Bernice had moved from her home district to Paradise to teach school. Sarah’s young husband had fallen ill after just months of marriage and died in the hospital from pneumonia. What better time to make a move to support her cousin and to take on the young scholars of the district?

  Well, that and the fact that her own sister had married the man Bernice had thought God had made for her. But once Leah and Jacob had said their vows, Bernice knew that she had to get away. So here she had fled, to start a new life, become a new person, a better person, but not to fall in love. “I don’t know.” She stirred the creamy liquid in her cup. The last thing she wanted to do was go to one of those desperate meetings where everyone wasn’t married and wishing they were. No, thank you.

  She shook her head. “I mean, it’s not like I’m a widow.” Just lonely.

  “I know, but no one’s going to say anything. Not if you show up with me.”

  Bernice studied her fingernails and tried to think of a good reason to stay at home and an even better one to go.

  “I hear it’s going to be quite an event. Food, games, food.”

  Bernice jerked her gaze up to meet her cousin’s. Sarah’s eyes twinkled. “Like a party.”

  Sarah shrugged. “I suppose so, jah.”

  Would Jess be there? Why would he? She had never heard tell of him going to these kinds of things before. Bernice had no reason to believe he’d start now. What difference would it make if he did? She wasn’t getting married. Ever. And he was out to find himself a wife. Had he wanted her in that position, he would have surely said something the other day at the school. And he wouldn’t be going to a singles meeting in his search for a bride.

  “I think I’ll pass,” she finally answered.

  “Whatever you think is best.”

  Best might not be the proper word to describe it, but it was certainly the most effective way to protect her heart. For given half the chance she could fall in love with Frowning Jess Schmucker.

  Jess stared into the red liquid in his cup and wished he were someplace else. Oh, the punch wasn’t that bad, but the atmosphere. . . He shuddered.

  It hadn’t taken a day for word to get around the district that he had decided to remarry. He should have never let his sister know of his plans. She could never keep a secret, and this was no exception. Now women he didn’t even know lived in the district were showing up with pies and casseroles. Ach, women he didn’t even know existed were doing the same. At the rate this was happening he’d have to choose a bride and fast.

  He scanned the room, watching as the widows and widowers mingled, circling each other, laughing but not quite, wary, uncomfortable. It was worse than those awkward singings of his youth.

  Why had he ever agreed to come here?

  To find a mamm for his girls, that voice reminded him.

  He allowed his gaze to wander around once again, this time taking note of who seemed to be part of a forming pair and which women were still trawling.

  There was Constance Fitch. She was gut enough, he supposed, and her buttermilk pie was mighty tasty. But he couldn’t imagine the confusion of having two Constances in the house. One would surely get a nickname, and the thought of his darling daughter named by his beloved wife taking on a new name so she could have a mother didn’t set quite right in his craw.

  Ruth Lapp caught his attention and gave a little flirty wave. He returned it in spite of himself and tried not to cringe. He supposed in the big scheme of things she was a candidate. She was easy on the eyes, and her chicken and noodles was good enough. It was her laugh. Somewhere between a donkey and one of those yippy Mexican hairless dogs. He shook his head. No matter how good her cooking was, he didn’t think he could listen to that cackle for the rest of his life.

  That left two women at the meeting who could potentially be a mother to his three girls: Mary Chupp and Carrie Byler. Mary was a nice woman. She had a caring personality and she could cook. But he hated the way she twisted her hair before she pulled it back. It was backward, rolling down instead of up before tucking underneath the edge of her kapp. Who did that? He might not be the best at fixing hair, but he knew better than to fold it under like that. And he didn’t think he could spend the rest of his days with that upside-down roll without eventually cracking and redoing it himself.

  Nay, that would never do.

  Carrie Byler. He sighed. The young widow lived across from his eldra on the farm she once shared with her husband. Elmer Byler had died early in their marriage, if Jess remembered correctly, before the first year had even passed. He could remember little about their courtship since they were in a different youth group from him and Linda Grace, but if his memory served him, they had been crazy in love. Which would explain why Carrie still wore her widow’s black though several years had passed since Elmer had died.

  But he could not find fault in that. Maybe only that Carrie still held feelings for her deceased husband. Though he had to admit a special place in his heart would always belong to Linda Grace.

  Carrie didn’t have any children, so she might want a couple to add to the mix. That was to be expected, he supposed. And it was allrecht with him. If he wanted her to be a mamm to his young’uns he’d expect she’d want a few of her own. The thought made his heart pound in his chest. A couple more young’uns to round out the mix, maybe a son to help in the barn and carry on the Schmucker name. Jah, a son would be gut.

  She caught his eye and sent him a small smile. He should go over there and talk to her, but he couldn’t convince his feet to carry him across the room. Amish courtships were slow and easy. The young people these days weren’t as secretive a
bout their courting as their parents and grandparents had been, but second marriages were always hidden until the wedding approached. He wasn’t sure why. Seemed to him that the second time around, couples had more to do and less time to sneak around. But he hadn’t been allowed to set up those traditions.

  He nodded at Carrie, then turned back to his half-empty cup of punch. If he was serious about this—and he was—he couldn’t go over there and blow it now. He’d have to take his time, and for that he was thankful. No sense rushing headlong into things.

  “So what do you think? See anyone who interests you?” Dan Troyer sidled up next to him and surveyed the room.

  “That’s not why I came,” he said, immediately saying a quick prayer of forgiveness for the lie. How could he keep his courting a secret if he said anything to Dan? Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all to anyone.

  Bad mistake.

  “Jah. Sure.” Dan chuckled and Jess knew the man didn’t believe him. But that was fine with Jess. He was sticking to his story, and that was all there was to say about it.

  “Maybe you should ask her to go caroling with us next week.” Jess jerked his attention to his lifelong friend. He and Dan had known each other ever since he could remember. Funny how time and work, life and death could pull people apart. Dan’s wife had died in a car wreck a few years back. Dan hadn’t remarried, nor did he seem ready to, though if the rumors were true Sylvia Hostetler might have something different to say about that.

  “Caroling?” Jess asked. “Like, singing?”

  “Singing, jah.”

  Jess shook his head. “I don’t want to go singing.”

  “Sure you do.” Dan smiled. “Get your mamm or Reba to watch the girls, and I’ll make sure Carrie Byler is there. All you have to do is show up.”

  And sing, he thought. It sounded like a good plan. He could talk to her alone, but around the others. See what she thought about his plans to get married again. Not raise suspicions but still get to spend the evening with her.

  It was the perfect plan. The perfect plan, indeed. So why did his heart skip a beat when he wondered how Bernice Yoder would feel if she knew?