The Amish Christmas Secret

by Vannetta Chapman

  “Fine. Then maybe he is Amish, but he’s on the run from the law.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to think of someone.”

  “Maybe he got involved with the wrong people, and he didn’t know how to get out of the mess, so he hightailed it out of there, flew the coop, headed for the hills.”

  “You certainly haven’t lost your imagination.”

  Becca added slices of cheese to her platter, then covered it with a dish towel and sat down beside her schweschder. “You have to admit it’s curious.”

  “What’s curious?”

  “Buying the worst place in town.”

  “I don’t know if it’s all that bad.”

  “Name one place in worse shape than Daniel Glick’s farm.”

  Abigail stared up at the ceiling a minute, then shook her head. “Okay. You might be right about that part.”

  “He moved in with nothing more than a backpack.”

  “Men don’t consider furniture a necessity.”

  “Which is a stereotype that doesn’t always prove true. Your husband was the one who insisted on a new couch.”

  “New to us, but remember we bought it at a garage sale.”

  “And if Daniel really is poor...”

  “Mamm would say that money isn’t a necessary ingredient for happiness. She would say, Where love is, there riches be...”

  “Okay, but the only love at Daniel Glick’s place is between him and that mare. Don’t you find that just a little odd? I heard from Molly, who heard from Old Tim’s cousin, that he sold the mare at top price. Tell me how Daniel was able to afford that, but spends his evenings in a sleeping bag on the back porch?”

  Abigail raised her hands in mock surrender. “I don’t know. I’ll admit it’s curious, but it isn’t a crime. You need to remember that men think differently than women. Most men—Amish and Englisch—care more about how they get from point A to point B than they do about where they sleep.”

  Which was an observation Becca couldn’t argue with.

  Her own bruder was saving every dime he made so that he could purchase a buggy. It would come in handy for courting, but of course, a buggy required another horse. He would rather put back what little money he had in the hopes of finding a cheap buggy and inexpensive horse than spend it on something more practical like new clothes. His old clothes had been mended several times, and the hem let down more than once.

  “I still look like me in anything I wear,” Clyde had said with a laugh. “But no girl likes to be picked up for a date on a bicycle.”

  The Sunday lunch passed in its usual way—pandemonium punctuated by her father’s jokes, and of course both laughter and tears from the children. Abigail’s youngest was in the midst of the terrible-two stage. Thomas had insisted on eating ham with no bread. He commenced to cry because he couldn’t cut his meat, then cried because his dat cut it for him. Which merited another riddle from Becca’s father—who thought he could make anyone laugh with a well-told joke.

  “What animal can you always find at a baseball game?” He combed his fingers through his beard, then leaned forward and lowered his voice as if he were sharing a secret. “A bat!”

  Becca didn’t want to laugh, but she couldn’t help it when her dat cackled at his own punch line.

  “Life is gut, ya?” He reached over and mussed his grandson’s hair.

  Thomas glanced up at his grandfather and smiled. The cut meat was forgotten for a moment, then he glanced down, frowned at his plate, pushed a forkful of ham into his mouth and said, “I want to play baseball.”

  Several times throughout the meal, Becca caught Daniel sitting back and watching them. He said little, though he answered pleasantly enough when someone spoke directly to him.

  His manners were good.

  He’d found a way to clean up, though her bruders had said there was no working plumbing at his house.

  He managed to answer questions about his family without giving away any real information. They lived in Lancaster. He didn’t expect them to visit anytime soon. He’d picked Shipshewana because he’d heard it was a gut Amish community—not too strict and not too liberal. Daniel laughed with everyone else when he admitted, “And the price for the farm was right.”

  At different points in the meal, her dat, Abigail’s husband, Aaron, Joshua Bontrager and Bishop Saul all mentioned stopping by to help. Each time Daniel managed to change the conversation. Becca paid attention to all of this, and she’d assembled a whole list of questions in her mind for when she managed to corner him.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  She’d gone to check on her hens. Cola the beagle dogged her feet, hoping she was carrying a treat in her pocket. She wasn’t sure why she spoiled the dog so. Cola wasn’t even purely a beagle, but rather some conglomeration of other breeds with beagle-like ears. There was something about the way those ears flopped over and her eyes glanced up in hope that caused Becca to squat, pet the dog, and pull a small biscuit out of her pocket. Cola accepted it gratefully, then rolled over onto her back to show her tummy.

  “One scratch. I have chickens to check on.”

  She came around the corner of the barn to find Daniel staring into the chicken coop.

  “Want to buy a chicken?”

  “Are you selling?”

  “I might be if the price was right.”

  “You’re a real little entrepreneur, aren’t you?” Daniel turned to study her. With his thumbs tucked under his suspenders and his hat tipped back on his head, he looked like he’d stepped off the cover of an Amish romance novel. Not that she read Amish romance novels—or at least she didn’t read them often. Occasionally her friend Liza loaned her one and then it would have been rude not to read them.

  “You say entrepreneur as if it’s a bad thing, and why don’t you want anyone helping at your house?” Becca didn’t believe in creeping up on a subject—best to toss it out there and catch the person you were interrogating off guard.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want help.”

  “You didn’t jump at the offer, either. I noticed that you have a way of turning the conversation away from yourself.”

  Daniel smiled broadly for the first time since she’d known him. “Didn’t realize you were watching me so closely.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not in the market...”

  “And why is that?”

  “None of your business.”

  “True enough, and it’s none of your business why I’d rather rebuild my house by myself.”

  His voice was joking, but his eyes had taken on a decidedly serious squint.

  “Fine by me.” She turned to study her hens. “I suppose I should introduce you to the group. Princess is a golden comet. Buttercup and Egg-bert are both Rhode Island Reds, and the other four are Sussex.”

  “What? They don’t have names?”

  “Betty, Pearl, Henny and Doris.”

  Daniel stared at the ground a minute. When he finally looked up, she knew he was laughing at her...even though he wasn’t making any sound. She could tell.

  “Naming hens is a common practice. They need to feel cared for in order to lay the maximum number of eggs.”

  “How are things going with Carl?”

  “You know good and well that things are going terribly with Carl. That’s why he’s still banished to our barn.”

  Did Daniel just flinch when she said the word our? Interesting.

  “The new roof is wunderbaar by the way. I’ll be able to spend a lot more time over there now that I don’t have to worry about the rafters falling in on me.”

  That definitely irritated him. He’d crossed his arms and was frowning at something on the horizon.

  She moved next to him, mirrored his position and asked in her sweetest voice, “Why did you buy the worst farm in town?”
/>   “I’m not sure it’s the worst.”

  “Oh, it is, trust me. I’m thinking maybe you bought it because you didn’t want anyone bothering you.”

  “I’m not saying that’s true, but I will say if what I wanted was to be alone, then my farm is a great place for that, or at least it was the first twenty-four hours I lived there.”

  Instead of being insulted, Becca laughed. She’d definitely managed to poke under his defensive, though polite, layer. She barely had time to enjoy the moment, though. He quickly turned the tables on her.

  “Why are you so intent on making money?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with making money.” She raised her chin slightly and tried not to notice that his smile had returned.

  “Most girls in your situation would try to marry up instead.”

  “Marry up?” Becca clinched her hands at her side and hoped that her temper didn’t pop the kapp off the top of her head. “You’re saying I should marry up? You’re actually suggesting to me that I should marry for money?”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t look surprised. Girls do it all the time.”

  “And you’re an expert on this?”

  “I’m not blind. I’ve seen it happen often enough, and I’m not saying anything’s wrong with it as long as both parties are honest about their intentions.”

  “You’re saying that the way to improve my lot in life is to hook my buggy onto some rich Amish guy’s horse.”

  “I might not have said it that colorfully, but if the kapp fits...”

  A low growl escaped Becca’s lips. She could actually feel her blood pressure rise. Her neck and jaw muscles had gone suddenly stiff as if they’d been locked in place.

  Daniel was like most other Amish men she’d met. Why had she for a moment imagined he might be different? Because he was as poor as they were? Obviously, that wasn’t enough to give him a fresh perspective on life. He thought the same as every other single guy she’d ever known.

  She was tired of it.

  She wasn’t going to demurely accept being put in her place any longer. She tried to count to ten, made it to three, and then gave up.

  It was time to give Daniel Glick a piece of her mind.

  Chapter Three

  Daniel stepped back when Becca stepped closer.

  The midsize mutt that had been dogging her steps apparently sensed the tension between them. Spotting a butterfly that was making its way across the field, the dog took off in pursuit. Daniel didn’t blame him.

  Things were about to go from bad to worse.

  Daniel was well acquainted with a woman’s temper. His oldest schweschder, in particular, had something of a short fuse, which made them all laugh after she’d gone off on someone. Amish women were supposed to be patient and kind, and Angela was both of those things once she calmed down. Still, he had learned at a young age to get out of the way when she was riled. He saw the same look on Becca’s face now.

  The problem was that he’d reached the limit of his patience with Becca Schwartz.

  She was angry?

  He wasn’t exactly in the best of moods, either, so bring it on—but from a distance. He took two steps away from the chicken coop.

  Her voice dangerously low, she said, “We may be the poorest family in town—”

  “I never said that.”

  “And we may not have a fancy new saddlebred horse—”

  “What does my horse have to do with this?”

  “But we take care of our own in the Schwartz family. We help one another. If my bruder needs a buggy and can’t afford it, then I don’t mind working a little extra harder to help him, and I don’t need you telling me—”

  “I think you misunderstood what I was trying to say.”

  Becca’s face had taken on a decidedly red hue, her hands were slicing the air with each point she tried to make, and her gaze was jumping around as if she couldn’t decide what she wanted to take down first—him or the chicken coop.

  “I understood what you said just fine. You think every single woman is looking for a rich man. Ha! I guess the joke’s on you, since you’re as poor as we are.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being poor.”

  “But you know the funny thing? We’re not really poor, because we have each other. You, on the other hand, are over there with your fancy horse and your decrepit house and you have no one. As far as I know, you’re on the lookout for a wealthy Amish girl so you can marry up.”

  “I didn’t move to Indiana to marry.” Daniel felt his own temper rise, and he fought to tap it down. Becca didn’t know what she was talking about. She didn’t know a single thing about his situation. In fact, it was almost laughable, because everything she thought she knew about him was wrong. “I moved here to be alone, so if you’d just keep your nose out of my affairs...”

  “Oh, my nose is in your affairs?”

  “You’re over at my place every day.”

  “In our half of the barn.”

  “I saw you feeding carrots to Constance. Feed your own horse and leave mine alone!”

  Again the growl, but this time she clenched her hands at her side and stomped away. He waited five seconds, stared at the ground and heard his mammi’s voice. Tackle the problem, not the person.

  The problem, he realized, was that it wasn’t as easy to be a loner as he had thought it would be. Well-intentioned people kept invading his space. Worse, he understood that he’d hurt her with his careless comment. That hadn’t been his intention, but it had plainly been the result.

  He prayed for wisdom even as he hurried to catch up with his pretty neighbor.

  “Becca, I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “But I need to say it.” He reached out and touched her arm, causing her to halt so suddenly that he practically ran into her. “Look...”

  When she pivoted toward him, he stepped back and raised his hands in surrender. “It’s none of my business that you have a business streak, or entrepreneurial spirit, or whatever you want to call it. It’s also none of my business what you hope to accomplish.”

  When she didn’t respond, he added somewhat lamely, “And I do think it’s admirable that you want to help your bruder Clyde.”

  Her chin came up and her eyes locked on his, but still, she didn’t speak. Daniel’s mind scrambled to remember what else he’d said, what he still needed to apologize for.

  “It’s actually very considerate of you to bring carrots to Constance. I’m sorry for what I said earlier—about you having your nose in my affairs. That was unkind. What I meant was that I’m not ready to talk about my life or my past. I’m...I’m a private person, and I don’t...well, I don’t share easily.”

  The truth slipped past his planned generic apology. It caught him off guard, and apparently, Becca hadn’t been expecting it, either, because some of the stiffness went out of her posture.

  “I plan to keep using our half of the old barn, whether it bothers you or not.”

  “Of course. That’s fine.”

  She crossed her arms and squinted at him, some of the fire returning to her eyes.

  “What I mean is that you don’t need my permission. It’s your half of the barn.”

  Which sounded so utterly ridiculous that he couldn’t help grinning. Becca rolled her eyes and reached for her kapp strings.

  She took a deep breath, stared at the ground, and then finally met his gaze. “I’m sorry that I lost my temper.”

  “Nein. I provoked you—unintentionally, but still I should be more careful.” They both started walking back toward the picnic tables. “It’s none of my business who you plan to marry or why you would want to do so.”

  “I’m a tad sensitive about that subject.”

  “Understatement of the year.” He thought he’d said those words to himself
, but she slapped his arm, so he must have said them out loud.

  They were still out of earshot of the group, so he stopped and waited for her to turn to face him. “I’ll make you a deal. You stay out of my business, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

  “Of course.”

  “Seriously?”

  “No problem. My life is plenty busy without solving the enigma of Daniel Glick.”

  He might have believed her, but then she smiled, raised her eyebrows and sashayed off toward the dessert table. He realized with sudden clarity that it wasn’t him she was interested in, it was the mystery living adjacent to their property. Amish life could be slow at times, and Becca Schwartz was a nice-looking woman in her twenties, still living on her parents’ farm. No doubt her life needed some excitement.

  The issue was that he had no intention of providing her a welcome distraction. He wanted peace and quiet and solitude. He’d purchased those things as much as he’d purchased a rickety barn and broken-down house.

  The challenge would be to stay out of her way and not lose his temper again. He should be able to do both of those things.

  Becca had reached the dessert table and was talking to Abigail. She looked back over her shoulder at Daniel, smiled too sweetly and then continued talking to her schweschder. They both laughed and then walked toward the house.

  He didn’t know how he knew it, but whatever was happening between him and Becca was just beginning.

  Staying out of her way wasn’t going to be easy.

  * * *

  Becca couldn’t have explained why Daniel had aggravated her so. She certainly wasn’t willing to examine her feelings on the subject of marriage. Doing so tended to put her in a funk for days. So instead, she’d sidled up to her schweschder, smiled back at Daniel and pretended she had a plan.

  She needed a plan for dealing with their new neighbor.

  Regardless of whatever his personal issues were—and he apparently did have issues that he was in no way going to talk about—he’d read her completely wrong. She was not searching for a husband in order to alleviate her family’s financial problems. If she was supposed to find true love, she would. God would drop it on her doorstep—or rather God would drop him on her doorstep. Or maybe put the guy next door.