The Amish Christmas Secret

by Vannetta Chapman

  “You sure we won’t get in trouble for this?”

  “For what?”

  “Snooping in someone else’s house.”

  “I’m not going in his house. I’d never do that. I’m simply going to look around his back porch.”

  “Isn’t that snooping?”

  “Don’t you want to know what’s going on with our neighbor?”

  Eli shrugged and tossed his baseball in the air, catching it as if it were a yo-yo attached to a string. “Daniel seems like a nice guy to me. The other day he told me that I have good follow-through on my swing.”

  Becca forced herself to pull in a calming breath. “Not the point.”

  They’d stopped near a small crop of fir trees. “He’s over there in that field, picking up rocks for all the good it will do him. Go over there and start a conversation.”

  “What am I supposed to talk about?”

  “Rocks.”

  “I don’t care about rocks.”

  “The weather, then.”

  Eli stared up at the clear blue sky, then looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  “Why would I care about the weather?”

  “Baseball, then.”

  He blinked twice. “Oh, ya. He used to live in Pennsylvania. Maybe he’s been to a Phillies game.” Suddenly embracing his mission, he hurried away.

  Becca waited until they looked to be deep in conversation. Then she slipped around to the back of the house. Mounting the back porch steps, she glanced around, then walked up to a window, cupped her hands and stared inside.

  The interior of Daniel’s house was worse than she had imagined. He must have begun pulling out rotten floorboards because there were holes throughout. The kitchen sink had been removed as well, as had the gas refrigerator and the lower cabinet doors. Peering closer, she noticed sunlight piercing down through the roof. That explained a lot. How long had the house been this way, with rain and snow falling down into the rooms?

  What a mess.

  She couldn’t imagine living here.

  She couldn’t imagine why Daniel would want to live here, and that thought reminded her that she didn’t have much time. She turned her attention toward the back porch. A sleeping bag had been placed near one wall. Next to it was an old crate with a battery lantern on it, and next to that was a camping cook stove. A few pots and pans were stacked neatly in a box, and his foodstuff was stored off the floor, stacked in another crate.

  Wow.

  Just—wow.

  The nights were chilly now. Hadn’t last night dipped into the thirties? And Daniel was sleeping on the back porch? Even if his sleeping bag was made for cooler weather, that couldn’t be comfortable.

  She stepped closer, nudged the sleeping bag with her foot and uncovered a journal.

  Surely it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek.

  She glanced over her shoulder, confirming that no one was coming.

  It wasn’t snooping, not really. After all, the book had practically been sitting in plain sight.

  She snatched it off the ground, ran her fingers over the plain cover, then opened it to the first page. His penmanship was surprisingly good.

  Daniel Glick.

  Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

  Shipshewana, Indiana.

  She walked to the corner of the porch and peered back in the direction of the field, but she didn’t see anyone. No doubt Eli had talked Daniel into a game of catch.

  She looked down at the journal, then turned the first page.

  He who has no money is poor; he who has nothing but money is even poorer.

  You are only poor when you want more than you have.

  Penny-wise, pound-foolish.

  Old proverbs, mostly related to money, filled the first few pages. There were also Scripture verses meticulously copied down.

  Do not fear, for I am with you.

  I know the plans I have for you.

  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.

  Honor your father and mother.

  Next to that last one was a question mark.

  Interspersed between the proverbs and Bible verses were observations.

  A beautiful sunrise can soothe the soul.

  God’s majesty is everywhere.

  When a person’s loyalty is divided, they cannot find happiness.

  Hard work heals the heart.

  She read the last one again.

  What kind of hard work? Farming? Or rebuilding a house? And what part of his heart needed healing? Had he been hurt so terribly before? She ran her fingertips across the line and was so focused on the words, on what might be behind the words, that her mind didn’t register the sound of boots on the porch steps.

  Daniel snatched the journal out of her hands. “What are you doing? Why are you looking through my things?”

  She’d seen Daniel irritated before. She’d seen him frustrated and put-out and impatient, but she’d never seen him angry. Becca glanced past him to Eli, who was standing on the bottom step, hands raised in a don’t-ask-me gesture.

  Daniel stared down at the book in his hands, then glanced up and shook it at her. “You have no right to snoop through my things. I want you off my property, and I want you off now.”

  Chapter Five

  Daniel understood that he needed to calm down. His pulse pounded at his temples and a red aura surrounded his vision. Becca’s expression shifted from stunned to alarmed to defensive. He strode away from her, needing space, needing to calm his anger. Unfortunately, that put him staring at Eli—a young kid who had probably been manipulated by his sister, a young kid whose biggest worry was the next pickup baseball game.

  “Were you in on this?”

  Eli glanced at Becca.

  “Don’t look at her. Look at me. Were you in on this?”

  “Maybe. Becca just said we needed to know what was really going on with you.”

  “Oh, did she?”

  Becca stepped forward to defend herself, but Daniel stopped her with an outstretched hand held up like a traffic cop.

  “Tell me about that.”

  Eli nervously tossed his baseball from one hand to the other. “Uh, nothing to tell really. She said it was all right because she wasn’t going to go inside, she just wanted to look around and make sure you weren’t dangerous.”

  Daniel couldn’t resist; he turned toward Becca wearing what he hoped was a wolfish grin. “Dangerous.”

  She’d crossed her arms, and there might as well have been a cartoon bubble hanging over her head.

  “Save it, Sherlock.” He turned back to her younger brother. “Eli, will you give me a few minutes alone with your schweschder?”

  “Uh...”

  “I assure you I’m not dangerous. If you’re worried, though, you’re welcome to send one of your parents over here—”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Becca pushed forward, not stopping until she reached the porch railing. “You go on home, Eli. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. Obviously, Daniel isn’t dangerous. I was being narrisch. Probably just reading too many Englisch suspense novels.”

  “You read those?”

  “Go on home. If Mamm asks, tell her I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Eli shrugged. “Okay. Gut talking to you, Daniel. Maybe you can play ball with us after church service tomorrow. You have a gut arm.”

  “Sure thing. I’m looking forward to it.”

  He waited until Eli was well out of hearing range before turning to Becca. His heart rate had settled, but his anger hadn’t exactly cooled. He didn’t deserve to be treated this way, and he was going to stop her prying into his life. He was going to do so this afternoon. They would settle this matter for once and for all.

 
“Look, Daniel, I’m sorry.”

  “You are?”

  “I stepped over a line. I had no right to read your journal.”

  “It’s not a journal, but you’re correct. You had no right.”

  “But you can’t blame—”

  “Actually, I can. I can blame you for snooping through my things and for disrespecting my privacy. If you want to argue about that, we need to take this to our bishop right now—either him or your parents.”

  “You don’t have to tattle to my parents. I’m not a child.”

  “You’re not? Because from where I’m standing, you certainly are acting like one.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “It’s completely fair. You send your bruder to distract me, and then you come into my home...”

  “Porch. I walked up on to your porch, which is technically just an extension of your yard.”

  He closed his eyes and prayed for patience. “You came onto my porch, looking through my things—without my permission. You disrespected me, Becca. I’ve done nothing to deserve that.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. It is.”

  “Then why the secrecy?”

  “Stop this.”

  “Why are you living on a porch?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Why did you buy this house?” She stepped closer; the repentant girl who’d been caught snooping had disappeared and a woman with a glint in her eyes had taken her place. “What are you hiding from, Daniel? Are you running from the Englisch law? What happened in Pennsylvania? Why are you even here? And who and where is your family?”

  It was the last question that punched the anger out of him. All he was left with was a deep exhaustion, the kind that turned your feet to lead and made walking a thing that seemed nearly impossible. So instead of walking away—which was what he desperately wanted to do—he sank onto the porch steps and looked out over his pitiful back field.

  “I just wanted to be left alone.”

  “But why? If you’re going to be living next to my family, next to my impressionable younger siblings, don’t I have a right to know the answers to a few basic questions?”

  He wanted to tell her then—tell her everything. Explain about the inheritance and the way it had torn his family apart. Describe the women who had wanted what was in his bank account. Confess how much he missed his home and his parents and his six siblings. Admit how lonely he was.

  Instead, he stood and stared down at the journal before stuffing it under his arm. “Nein. You don’t. And if I find you on my property again, I will turn you in to the authorities.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he turned and strode away from the house, because what he needed more than anything was to put distance between himself and Becca Schwartz.

  * * *

  Daniel would have given much to skip church the next day, but he understood what was expected of him. He was well aware that if he didn’t attend, he’d be visited by the bishop, watched more closely by the deacons, and placed under increasing scrutiny. They didn’t see it as intruding on his life. They saw it as their obligation to help along a bruder in the faith. After all, they were his church family.

  Skipping church wasn’t an option.

  Best to clean up, show up and put on a smile.

  Best to appear to be one of them, even though he realized he was the furthest thing from that. He was a man who didn’t fit in anywhere.

  Church was held at the bishop’s, and the weather matched his mood. Dark clouds had rolled in, the temperatures had dropped, and a north wind had picked up.

  He was used to cold weather.

  He didn’t mind rain.

  He only wished he’d been able to fix the roof on his house before winter made its appearance, but the barn had been in worse shape than he’d thought. The fencing and fields had needed tending to. The list of things needing done immediately was simply too long.

  It was what he’d wanted, though—to have to work hard, to depend on his skills rather than his bank account, to make his own way. Gotte had granted his wishes, and yes, that realization did remind him of his conversation with Becca. He didn’t believe Gotte was a wishing well, but in this case...well, it seemed as if his heart’s desire and Gotte’s will for his life had coincided. His prayers had been answered. He wouldn’t taint that by complaining.

  He filed into the barn, hoping he could slip into the last pew. Bishop Saul had other ideas. He insisted that Daniel stand with him, introducing him to each family as they passed through the doors.

  Becca’s father smiled amicably, even as Becca pretended to be busy adjusting her little schweschder’s kapp. It was quite obvious that Samuel had no idea what had transpired between his daughter and Daniel. In fact, everyone except Eli seemed oblivious, and even Eli seemed to have forgotten. That was the way of fourteen-year-olds. Today’s worries took precedence over any of yesterday’s troubles.

  “Can’t play ball in the rain,” Eli muttered. “Sure hope the weather clears.” He then trudged away from them to join his freinden.

  Daniel made a point to select a bench well away from Becca. In fact, he sat closer to the front, where he wouldn’t have to see her. He thought he heard her voice a time or two during the singing, but of course he didn’t turn to look. It was none of his business if Becca had a beautiful soprano voice.

  He had figured that the sermon would be on loving your neighbor. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. He wasn’t sure that particular commandment applied to snooping, eligible young women, but he’d rather not be reminded of the whole situation.

  Since he was a young child, whenever he felt the least bit guilty about something, it seemed the pastor’s words focused on that thing.

  One summer he’d desperately longed for a bicycle like his friend’s. It was all he could think of. He’d even stopped by the store in town to see how much it cost, though at that point they hadn’t received their inheritance and had very little extra money.

  The following Sunday the pastor had preached on Thou shalt not covet.

  Another time he’d desperately wanted to be in the field, working at their harvest, rather than in church. The pastor had spoken on honoring the Sabbath.

  It was a regular occurrence for the sermon to speak directly to him.

  To his relief, the first sermon was not on the Golden Rule, but rather it focused on Lamentations—not one of Daniel’s favorite books from the Old Testament. He remembered being assigned to read it as a teen and falling asleep every single time. Today the words pricked his heart. “It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not.”

  He deserved to be consumed. He was living a lie, but how was he to tell the truth? Always his life seemed like a puzzle that couldn’t be solved. Yet the words rang through his heart—His compassions fail not.

  If he hoped the second sermon would bring some relief to his raw feelings, he was sorely disappointed. “Timothy reminds us that even when we have trouble believing, even when our faith fails, Gotte is faithful.” Saul smiled out over his congregation.

  “It’s a gut thing, ya? It’s a thing that pricks our hearts and eases the burden on our shoulders. Like when you unharness your horse, you ease his burden, so Gotte does for us...if we let Him. If we are willing to let Him carry that which troubles us.”

  Daniel stared at the floor.

  Was that what he was doing? Trying to carry his own burdens? But it couldn’t be as simple as Saul suggested. Could it?

  Could he simply offer everything that troubled him up to Gotte? And what of his past? He had no idea what to do with his hurts and, if he were honest, his sins. Could Gotte actually wipe them away?

  He longed to start over here, to start fresh. How? What was he to do about Becca Schwartz, who insisted on digging into his pa
st?

  If the day had been mild and the sun shining, he might have been able to avoid Becca. With the rain pouring outside, it made for a cozy and intimate affair in the barn. After the service had ended and the meal had been eaten, the children took off toward the back of the barn—to play with kittens and enjoy games of hide-and-seek. Even Eli was smiling, though Daniel heard him say that he was too old for such games.

  The older members had pulled their chairs into a circle and were enjoying the time of fellowship. Most of the youngies stood apart, laughing and standing in groups of three or four. Several of the girls were looking his way, and Daniel knew he needed to escape before they found their courage to approach him.

  It was too early to leave without drawing attention, so he stepped out of the barn doors, following the roof overhang around to the south side where the structure blocked the wind. He’d pulled up the collar of his coat and was nurturing his brooding thoughts, so he didn’t watch clearly where he was going and nearly bowled over Becca.

  His hands shot out to steady her, and she clasped his arms—blushing and laughing and saying that she was sorry.

  “I’m the one that ran into you.”

  “True, but I should have been paying closer attention.”

  He was still holding her arms, as if she might topple over at any minute. Plainly she wouldn’t. He dropped his hands and stepped back. “I didn’t think anyone else would be out here.”

  “Only us introverts.”

  “You’re an introvert?” He laughed, perhaps a bit too harshly, because her chin came up and her eyes narrowed. “What I mean is, you seem quite outgoing to me.”

  “Oh, ya. I’m a real partier.” She trudged over to an old rocking chair and sank into it, staring out at the rain. “Most of the people my age are already married up. The girls in there have little to worry about other than their next date. They seem younger than me.”

  “You have freinden.”

  “Oh, ya. I do. My closest friend is Liza Kauffmann, but she was surrounded by boys as soon as the luncheon broke up. She’s not really interested in dating right now, but she’s too polite to tell them that.”