The Christmas Cradle

by Charlotte Hubbard

  Miriam sat down beside Naomi, clasping her hand as she reached for Mary’s, as well. Both women appeared as curious as she was about what Bob Oliveri and the banker were hinting at. As the man who’d bought the Sweet Seasons building to prevent Hiram from taking control of the café, Bob had saved them from a lot of heartache. “What kind of decisions are ya talkin’ about? I finally got up the nerve to look at what’s left—or not left—of the two buildings this morning. It seems pretty clear to me. They’re gone.”

  “And we lost a dozen or more handmade quilts, not to mention all those bolts of fabric and sewing supplies,” Mary said sadly. “It’ll take months to replace those quilts. And the ladies who made them didn’t get paid.”

  “Same goes for the food and equipment in the Sweet Seasons,” Naomi said. “Miriam and I scraped together a lot of start-up money to buy our appliances and to pay my boys for the chairs and tables they built. Now that Miriam’s stayin’ home with her baby, I can’t expect her to invest that much money again—and I can’t come up with that kind of cash,” she continued earnestly. “Ezra wants me to quit cookin’ there, but he’ll feel the pinch when I’m not bringin’ home my share of the café’s income.”

  Bob nodded, listening carefully to their concerns. He smiled as he chose a green cookie in the shape of a wreath, with red candies for holly berries. “The bright side of this situation is that you sold me the building and I’ve carried insurance on it. Now that the police have determined it was arson—which means Hiram started the blaze—we can collect on the policy.”

  Miriam saw that Mary and Naomi were as puzzled by these words as she was. “So what’re ya sayin’, Bob? We Plain ladies don’t understand the details about insurance,” she pointed out. “We Amish don’t believe in makin’ payments for years and years based on a piece of paper. We pay for what we need as we go along.”

  Bob looked at Miriam, Mary, and Naomi, and then smiled at Rebecca—the daughter he’d raised English—as though they shared a delightful secret. “Because I’ve carried insurance that will pay for what you’ve lost, plus whatever it costs to replace it—inflation and inventory included—we can rebuild the Sweet Seasons and the quilt shop,” he explained. “You ladies can be back in business as soon as the new structure goes up. That’s how insurance works.”

  Mary’s mouth dropped open. “You’d do that for us?”

  “In a heartbeat,” Bob replied. “Your businesses have been an enjoyable investment for me because I love being part of Willow Ridge’s growth and prosperity—and I’d be foolish not to accept the money I have coming to me. I’ve paid the premiums and now the insurance company will honor the policy by covering what you’ve lost.”

  Naomi and Mary gripped Miriam’s hands and stared at each other in disbelief. “My stars—and Merry Christmas!” Naomi blurted out. “That’s a fine gift you’ve given us, Bob. Denki ever so much.”

  Bob flushed. “I also believe that if you rebuild your businesses, it’s a sign to all the world that Hiram didn’t get the best of you—that your goodness has won out over his evil.”

  A hush settled over the kitchen. Miriam liked the sound of that, and she was pleased that the man who’d raised her Rebecca was speaking so eloquently on their behalf. “Ya said a mouthful there, Bob.”

  “And I stand with him a hundred percent.” Derek smiled kindly at all of them as he reached for another cookie. “We’ll need a list of the quilts you lost, Mary, along with the approximate value of each one. You all need to write out the equipment and furnishings and shelving you lost, plus the appliances and inventory—everything it would take to replace what was in your shops when they burned down.”

  Miriam had been following the conversation closely, yet a little red flag waved in the back of her mind. “We should be talkin’ to Josiah about what he wants. Now that I’ve got baby Bethlehem, I’m out of the bakin’ business.”

  Odd expressions came over Bob and Derek’s clean-shaven faces. “Are you sure, Miriam?” the banker asked. “You’ve been the backbone of the Sweet Seasons—”

  Miriam raised both of her hands. “I know why you’re thinkin’ that way because for a long while I did, too,” she said. “But that wee baby in the cradle Ben made is my new mission, fellas. I’m livin’ the life of a happy Amish wife and mother now. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

  “Nevertheless, that land belongs to you, Miriam,” Bob pointed out. “Legally, when I bought the Sweet Seasons, you and I entered into a leasing situation, with the stipulation that if something happened to me, the entire property would revert to you. So while the money to rebuild your businesses will come to me, it’s your call as to whether another structure will be built on your property.”

  Miriam blinked. The detail about land ownership had slipped her mind—and it hadn’t mattered while she and her two closest friends had worked together these past couple of years. Did it matter now that she was staying home? Is it proper for an Amish wife and mother to invest in a business she’ll no longer participate in?

  The percolator’s last gasp announced that the coffee was ready, so Miriam rose to remove the basket and fill the mugs Rhoda and Rebecca were taking from the cupboard. She couldn’t miss the intense expressions Naomi and Mary wore, and she realized that Josiah, Savilla, and Lena had a stake in her decision, as well. Even so, she’d recently vowed to follow Plain ways and God’s plan for her life rather than just forging ahead with what she wanted to do. If she gave in to her first impulse and agreed to a new building, would He think she’d already gone back on her promise? That she wasn’t really dedicated to living her life His way?

  Everyone in the kitchen sat in silence, awaiting what Miriam would say . . . how she would determine the fate of her friends and the future of Willow Ridge.

  I could use a sign from You, Lord, Miriam prayed as she concentrated on the full mugs of coffee she carried to the table. When she sat down again after everyone had been served, she looked apologetically at Naomi and Mary. “If it was only up to me, I’d tell ya—”

  Outside, a loud stomping announced that someone was knocking snow off his boots. When Ben entered the kitchen, Miriam smiled at him despite the tension she’d created. “I hear ya preached a mighty fine sermon today, and I’m wishin’ I could’ve heard it.”

  “With God’s help we’ve buried our dead, and we can move on now,” Ben replied. He wore an expression of humility, yet there was fresh energy in his voice. “And ya know, after starin’ again at the rubble that used to be my smithy, I’ve decided to rebuild on this side of the road, where folks’ll have easier access to my shop.”

  Miriam smiled wryly as she fetched him a cup of coffee. Ben wasn’t saying so, but she sensed he wanted his new smithy on his own property, rather than on hers. “It just so happens we’ve been talkin’ about that very subject,” she remarked. Then she looked at Bob. “I don’t suppose that insurance money covers Ben’s business, does it?”

  “No,” he replied, “but I’d be happy to contribute to the rebuilding of—”

  “Denki, Bob, but you’re too late!” Ben interrupted in a jovial tone. “Before we went over to Nora’s for the lunch, the Brenneman boys showed me their drawing for a new smithy—said they were figurin’ to build my new shop and Miriam’s before the ashes of the old ones had even gone cold! Then Homer Yoder said he was bringin’ in some Mennonite fellas with heavy equipment to dig and pour a foundation for my new place tomorrow, while the ground’s still warm enough.”

  Ben grabbed a frosted angel cookie from the plate, waving it at them in his excitement. “Homer’s friends plan to clear away the mess across the road, too, so you gals can rebuild as soon as you’ve worked up a floor plan with Naomi’s boys,” he went on in a rush. “Bishop Tom was in on the conversation, too, and he said our district’s Amish Aid fund would pay for replacin’ both buildings. All the church members have been payin’ into the fund for years to cover this sort of emergency. I came straight home instead of goin’ to the lunch because I just ha
d to tell ya the gut news, honey-girl.”

  “So there ya have it!” Miriam giggled as she grabbed Mary and Naomi’s hands again. God had already foreseen her difficult decision about rebuilding the Sweet Seasons on her land and He’d given His answer. “Who am I to argue with Bishop Tom? If he sees a problem with me ownin’ the land the new café’s on, we’ll settle it later. Onward and upward!”

  “That’s the spirit, Mamma,” Rhoda exclaimed.

  “Can’t argue with that kind of support, Ben,” Derek agreed with an astonished smile. “If more towns operated on the same principles we’ve seen here in Willow Ridge, the world would be a different place.”

  Ben nodded, smiling at their two English friends. “Here in Willow Ridge, we take care of each other,” he explained. “Micah, Seth, and Aaron Brenneman have already rearranged their schedule so they can start our buildings when the foundations are set. We’re gut to go.”

  Bob was shaking his head, chuckling. “Once again, you Amish amaze and inspire me,” he said. When he smiled at Miriam, his respect for her shone on his face. “My offer for assistance with replacement costs and supplies still stands. The insurance money will be available for—”

  “However this all gets paid for,” Miriam interrupted, “I still want your name on the papers, Bob. Bishop Tom’s probably not thought of this, but in order for us to have electricity, as the health department requires, somebody who’s not Amish has to own the building.”

  “Jah, I want that, too,” Mary insisted. “We Mennonites would be allowed to install the electricity, but I can’t expect the Amish Aid fund to cover the costs of those quilts and the inventory we lost—and Eva, Priscilla, and I surely can’t afford to replace them. If you’re willing to help us with that, Bob, you should have the building as one of your assets. Something to show for what you’re investing in us.”

  Bob and Derek exchanged a glance. “Seems clear to me that however we divvy up the replacement costs, everybody’s covered,” the banker remarked.

  “I’m confident we’ll work it all out and that everyone’ll be back in business as though the fire had never happened,” Bob said with an emphatic nod.

  Miriam smiled, relieved that these friends were so willing to move forward without asking her to be directly involved anymore. As she watched Rebecca choose a dark chocolate sleigh cookie, however, it occurred to her that they weren’t finished with this discussion. “Ya know what we haven’t talked about? Our Rebecca’s lost her home. I’m tickled that since she’s come back she’s been willin’ to bunk here and there, dependin’ on where we’ve had space for her—”

  “Because I want to be near you, Mamma,” Rebecca said with a sparkle in her blue eyes. “And because I love it here in Willow Ridge.”

  Miriam’s heart swelled and she blinked back tears. It was such a blessing that her English-raised daughter wanted to live near her Amish family, even though they all understood that Rebecca had no intention of joining the Old Order.

  “Matter of fact, Rebecca has mentioned that she’d like to build a home here,” Bob replied, “so it’s just a matter of finding a plot of ground—”

  “You could live on Lantz Lane, just down from our house—right, Mamma?” Rachel blurted out.

  “She could build here on our land,” Ben insisted.

  “Or we’ve got room at our place, behind the clinic!” Rhoda chimed in. “Andy would be gut with that because you’d be close by for runnin’ the reception desk.”

  “So there you have it!” Bob quipped as he grinned at Rebecca. “Pick your plot, honey. We’ll start your house when you’ve decided on your floor plan.”

  As the kitchen rang with clapping and congratulations, Rebecca wiped her eyes. Miriam went to stand behind Rebecca’s chair, putting her arms around her shoulders. “We’ve come a long way since ya showed up in the Sweet Seasons with your spiky black hair and metal jewelry,” she murmured. “I’m grateful to God that all the details have worked out this way. It’s everything a mother could want, havin’ all her girls here together fer gut and forever.”

  “Fer gut and forever!” Rhoda echoed, grabbing her sisters’ hands.

  “Jah, that’s how it is in our family,” Rachel agreed. “We’re tied pretty tight.”

  Derek smiled at everyone as he rose from his chair. “Can’t argue with that—and I’m glad we’ve settled so many important matters during this discussion. We should let you folks get on with your day.”

  “Does my heart good to know you can all move forward now, without any more threats or intimidation,” Bob added as he, too, stood up.

  “We can’t thank ya enough for all you fellas do for us,” Miriam said as the men put on their coats. “I have a real gut feelin’ about the future of Willow Ridge.”

  Everyone watched out the window until Derek and Bob had gone down the lane to the road. Then they all grabbed one another, laughing and hugging and talking all at once. As their chatter filled the kitchen, even the two babies began to squeal and squawk.

  Ben chuckled at their ruckus and gently scooped Bethlehem from her cradle while Miriam eased Amelia from her basket. When he walked into the front room, Miriam and the rest of them followed him to the picture window.

  It didn’t hurt so badly now, seeing the burned-out remains of their buildings. Miriam was buzzing like an excited bee even though she would no longer be involved in the day-to-day business of the Sweet Seasons. “There’s the Witmers and Lena, lookin’ at the ashes,” she murmured. “Josiah’s got to be wonderin’ about a lot of things—most especially about whether he can support his family now. I say we bring them in here and tell them what’s what.”

  Rebecca bussed Miriam’s cheek. “I’ll be right back, Mamma. I don’t want to miss the looks on their faces when you break the news.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Josiah sighed glumly. He wanted to believe Ben’s sermon about how, when it seemed God had turned His back, it was time to follow Him, but this devastation sucked all positive thoughts from his mind. Hiram Knepp had wiped him out with a wave of that fire-starting wand. Everyone at the lunch had asked if he and Savilla would be cooking again soon, but he hadn’t had an answer to give them.

  “I wish I could believe that we’ll be using those boxes of utensils Homer brought us,” he said to his sister. “But the money I’ve kept back from selling Mammi’s house won’t touch the replacement cost of the cookers and other stuff we lost in the fire because we’ll need to live on it until Miriam and Naomi get a new building built. If they do.”

  “Why would Miriam invest so much money in a café where she won’t be working anymore?” Savilla asked sadly. “She’s ready to stay home with Bethlehem.”

  “Even if you two catered from the new house and I kept baking cookies,” Lena joined in, “it would take us months and months to save up enough money for a café.”

  “It would take years,” Josiah insisted. “And I refuse to rely on the Hooleys’ goodwill for that long. Maybe we should sell the new farm—except we need a roof over our heads, too. I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  When he couldn’t bear to look at the sooty ruins of the Sweet Seasons any longer, Josiah turned away. He saw one of Miriam’s triplets approaching them and wondered why she would be waving so cheerfully.

  “Hello there, you three!” she called out. “We’ve got a fresh pot of coffee and some of Lena’s cookies over home—not to mention some tasty morsels of conversation to share with you.”

  “We ate while Nora and the other gals were cleaning up,” Josiah replied. “But I appreciate—”

  “No, you don’t understand. We need you to come talk to us.”

  Josiah realized then that it was Rebecca standing before them with an impetuous grin on her face—when dressed alike, the triplets were impossible to tell apart, except now Rachel had a baby and Rhoda was expecting one. He’d never been around an English woman who sometimes wore Plain clothing—but then, Miriam and her girls defied a lot of Amish ways. And Rebecc
a wasn’t one to mince words when it came to doing business in Willow Ridge.

  “All right,” he said. “We need to get Isaiah in out of the cold anyway.”

  Josiah grabbed the handle of the baby’s basket and started across the county highway with the three young women. He could feel people watching them from the Hooleys’ window, but he didn’t have the heart to wave at them.

  When he entered the kitchen and saw the expectant faces around the table, however, Josiah paused. Not only were Miriam, Ben, and Rebecca’s sisters smiling at him, but Naomi and Mary Schrock were as well. Even little Amelia grinned at him from her mother’s arms. How was it possible that everyone except Miriam had spent the morning at Hiram’s funeral yet they radiated a sense of hope?

  That’s joy on their faces, and they’re struggling to keep it under control. What did that mean?

  Josiah set Isaiah’s basket on the table. “Coffee smells gut,” he remarked as he and the girls removed their wraps.

  Naomi, Mary, and Miriam grinned at one another. “Not as gut as your grilled meats are gonna smell,” Miriam hinted as she filled three more mugs. “If ya want to keep cookin’ here, that is.”

  Josiah’s heartbeat sped up. “What do you mean? I’d like nothing better than to be serving meals like we were doing before Hiram—”

  “We can leave him out of the picture now,” Ben reminded him.

  “If ya had your way about it, how would ya set up a new café?” Naomi asked as her smile came out to shine like the sun. “Homer’s got fellas comin’ to clear away the rubble and my boys are gonna put up a new building—and Ben’s relocatin’ his smithy to this side of the road, which’ll give us space for a bigger dinin’ room and more parkin’. If that’s what we want.”

  Josiah dropped into a chair, afraid to believe what he was hearing. He held Naomi’s gaze over the top of his mug as he fortified himself with hot coffee. He’d worked alongside Naomi long enough to recognize the mischievous sparkle in her brown eyes—and to know she wouldn’t lead him astray with promises she couldn’t keep. “What do you mean, if that’s what we want?” he whispered.