An Amish Second Christmas

by Beth Wiseman

  She grabbed Abe’s arm. “What is he doing here?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Abe said as he kept his eyes on James. “Your mamm must know him.”

  Mary Carol locked eyes with James after he set the presents down. She noticed that once again, he wasn’t limping, nor did his eye flutter.

  “Hello to all,” he said as he looked at each of them.

  Mamm walked to his side, smiling as she gently touched his arm. “Children, I’d like for you to meet James.” She paused as she looked around the room. “James Zook.”

  Mary Carol realized that she’d never asked James his last name.

  “Isn’t that the name of your father’s father?” Abe whispered in her ear.

  She nodded. “I’m sure there are a lot of James Zooks in this area.” Even as she made the comment, it struck her why James had always seemed familiar. Finally, he looked at her and smiled broadly. She wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around him, but she was already going to have some explaining to do later.

  “James is your grandfather,” Mamm said after a moment passed. “He is going to have dinner with us. So I trust you will use your best manners.” Her mother’s expression turned from joyful to stern, which led Mary Carol to wonder if her mother knew James as well as she and Abe did . . . well enough to know that anything might come out of his mouth.

  Her mother made introductions. Mary Carol swallowed hard and wondered if James would acknowledge knowing her already. But he just smiled and shook her hand.

  “A pleasure to meet you.”

  Her palms were clammy from this unexpected situation, but a warm feeling settled over her to know that James was her grandfather.

  “Your mother told me that you would be sharing memories about your father today, so I’ve brought gifts for each of you with that in mind.” He smiled as he took presents out of the box, handing one to each of them. Even Abe. Mary Carol was as nervous as she could be. James looked and sounded perfectly normal. But she knew how quickly he could change. And how long had her mother known him? Should Mary Carol call him Daadi now?

  Once everyone had a gift, Mamm sat down on the couch next to James while everyone else found a seat. Mary Carol noticed the way her mother was biting her lip and glancing around the room. Maybe she knew James better than Mary Carol thought.

  “Young Gideon, why don’t you open your present first.” James sat taller, his palms flat on his knees.

  Please, God, keep him on course.

  Mary Carol’s little brother tore the silver paper from the small package, then opened the box and pulled out a baseball.

  “That was the first baseball your daed ever had,” James said. “When he wasn’t much older than you, he became quite the baseball player. A big group of kids used to play ball at the Stoltzfuses’ place.”

  Gideon turned the ball over in his hands. “Danki . . .” He looked at their mother. “What do I call him?”

  Mamm looked between James and Gideon. “Um . . .” Her eyes landed on James. “What would you like the kinner to call you?”

  James smiled. “If I remember correctly, the word for grandfather is daadi. But Katherine, if you would prefer for the youngsters to call me James, that would be mighty fine also.”

  “Can I call him Daadi, Mamm?” Gideon asked from where he was sitting on the floor. Mary Carol realized that Gideon hadn’t known any of their grandparents. Their mother’s parents had died six years ago—the same year and within a month of each other. And their father’s mother had passed right before Gideon was born.

  After Mamm told Gideon that was fine, Linda lifted her present above her head. “Me next!” She brought it to her lap, ripped the paper off, and pulled the lid off of the shoe box. “Look! Look!” She held up a yellow flashlight. “Was this Daed’s when he was a boy?”

  James nodded. “I borrowed it the night I left. And I’ve had it all these years, along with a few other keepsakes.”

  Mary Carol was sure they could have heard a pin drop in the room. Everyone was wondering the same thing. Why did you leave your family? But Mary Carol had spent enough time with James to know he probably didn’t understand what he was doing back then. Maybe her mother knew. She was trying to speculate how Mamm had found their grandfather. At the farmhouse? Did they write letters over the years?

  After an awkward moment, Stephen asked what everyone was thinking. “Why did you leave when our daed was a boy?”

  Mamm cleared her throat. “Those are conversations for another day. Today is for sharing memories of your father. Stephen, you go next.”

  Stephen’s box was small, but his eyes lit up when he pulled out a pocketknife.

  “I’m afraid that wasn’t your father’s, Stephen,” James said. “It’s mine. But I’d be honored for you to have it, to maybe pass down to your own son someday.”

  Stephen held up the knife. “Danki.”

  Mary Carol gave her box a little shake before she untied the purple ribbon. She recalled seeing the wrapping paper and other items the first time she was at the farmhouse. Inside, there was a children’s book with three ducks on the front.

  “Your grandmother used to read that to your father. It was his favorite. At least it was back then. He was probably Gideon’s age.” James got the faraway look in his eyes again. “Maybe you can read it to your children one day,” he added.

  Mary Carol thanked him. “Mamm, open yours,” she said.

  “Let Abe go first.” Mamm walked to the fireplace, warmed her hands, then turned around to watch Abe.

  James had warmed up a little to Abe, but Mary Carol was still nervous about what he might have given Abe. A hangman’s noose to warn him not to kiss me, maybe? A lump of coal? A bag of switches? She stifled a smile as she thought about different possibilities. Abe’s box was larger than all the rest.

  Abe lifted a straw hat from the box. “Did this belong to Elias?” Abe asked with some eagerness in his voice.

  Mary Carol held her breath when she saw James scowl. “No.”

  He didn’t elaborate even though everyone in the room was waiting. A moment later, he said, “In case you ever sit on yours or something.”

  Everyone was quiet, but Abe actually burst out laughing and thanked him. James winked at him.

  “I guess I’m the last one.” Mamm slowly unwrapped her present. It was a box small enough to fit in her hand. She opened it and then pulled out a key. “What’s this?”

  James stood up and put his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t wearing any suspenders today, but he had on a black belt. “It’s the key to my heart. For bringing me to your home to meet my grandchildren. I am a blessed man.”

  “Thank you, James. We are happy to have you here, and glad that you’re a part of our family.”

  They all watched James open two presents that their mother had placed in front of him, and he thanked her repeatedly for the two sweaters she’d knitted for him.

  “Is everyone ready to eat?” Mamm clapped her hands together the same way Linda did when she was excited.

  “Uh, actually . . .” Abe’s face turned bright red as he moved toward Mary Carol. “I have something to ask Mary Carol.”

  “What is it?” She tried to read his expression, but his face just turned a darker shade of red. Mary Carol had been disappointed in Abe’s Christmas gift to her. Well, that wasn’t entirely true—the quilt his mother made her was beautiful. But it wasn’t a personal gift from him. Before she had time to guess what he might be doing, he left the room and returned with a gift bag.

  “I wanted to give you this yesterday at mei house, but I wasn’t finished with it.”

  Mary Carol had given him several things she’d made by hand, so she wasn’t surprised to find inside the bag a beautiful oak box that he’d carved for her. But she was surprised when he dropped to one knee.

  “Open the box,” he said.

  With shaky fingers, she opened the beautiful box and pulled out a piece of paper that read, Will you marry me?


  She looked at Abe, then at all her family members. As her eyes filled with tears, she thought about her father. But this was a season of hope for all of them, and as she gazed into Abe’s eyes, she was certain that she wanted to be with him for the rest of her life.

  “Yes,” she whispered. Then she looked at James. He rolled his eyes, and Mary Carol laughed out loud.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Katherine was at the coffee shop a little early, surprised that James hadn’t arrived. She decided to be daring and ordered a vanilla latte.

  It was nothing short of a miracle that James had behaved so perfectly during their Second Christmas celebration. She’d been worried about her children meeting him since she never knew when he might turn into one of his characters and talk about his federal agent days or tell one of his tall tales. It was bound to happen eventually; she should sit down with all of the children before their next family gathering.

  Thirty minutes later, she finished her drink and left. Worry was burrowing into her heart as she thought about where to even look for James. And how easily he could slip out of their lives, the same way he’d slipped in. What if she never saw him again?

  By the time she got home, she’d worked herself up even more, picturing him lost, cold, or hungry. She’d asked him if he’d wanted to stay overnight on the couch after the big meal on Second Christmas, but he said he already had plans. Katherine was sure he didn’t, so she’d prayed that he would have shelter, warmth, and food.

  “What’s wrong?” Mary Carol asked when Katherine walked into the house. She took off her black cape and hung it on the rack.

  “James—I mean your grandfather—is always at the coffee shop on time. We’ve been meeting there on Tuesdays. Today he didn’t show up, and I’m worried.” She untied her black bonnet, brushed specks of snow from it, and hung it next to her cape. “I don’t think he has a home. I don’t know where to find him.”

  “I know where he is.”

  “How could you possibly know where he is?” Mamm put her hands on her hips. “Mary Carol, what’s going on?”

  “I’ll explain on the way.”

  Katherine found Linda and asked her to keep an eye on Gideon since Stephen was at work. Linda rolled her eyes but dutifully complied. Her two youngest children didn’t start back to school until the following week.

  “He stays at the old Porter farmhouse,” Mary Carol said as they directed the buggy onto the road. Katherine listened to how her daughter had been spending her Saturdays and how she and Abe had gotten to know James.

  “I never lied, Mamm. I told you I was spending the day with Abe, and that’s what I was doing.”

  Katherine sighed. “You didn’t tell me because you knew I wouldn’t approve of your visits with an Englisch stranger.”

  Mary Carol hung her head for a few moments. “He tells all kinds of stories, Mamm. Do you think he’s . . . you know . . . crazy?”

  “I don’t know. Something isn’t right with him, but sometimes he makes more sense than all of us.”

  Mary Carol gasped as Katherine guided the buggy up the driveway of the old Porter place. Katherine slowed the buggy, unsure whether to keep going.

  “There’s a red car. Did James tell you that two men in a red car have been following him?”

  Katherine pulled back the reins. “Ya, but I didn’t believe him.”

  “What should we do?” Mary Carol asked when Katherine brought the buggy to a stop in front of the house.

  “I’m going to check on him. You wait here.”

  “Nee. I’m coming too.”

  Katherine didn’t argue as she tethered the horse, then they both hurried across the packed snow toward the door. She knocked. When no one answered, she knocked harder.

  “James’s car is here.”

  Katherine knocked again.

  “Why do you think he has a car but no real place to live? I’ve asked him, but he always changed the subject.”

  “I don’t know.” Katherine had asked him the same thing several times.

  Finally, the door opened, and an older man, who looked to have many years even on James, greeted them. He was a tall man in a black suit.

  “Hello, Katherine. Hello, Mary Carol,” he said as he stepped aside so they could go into the house.

  Katherine grabbed Mary Carol’s arm and held her in place. “How do you know our names?”

  The elderly Englisch man smiled just as another man wearing a white jacket appeared beside him, extending his hand to Katherine. “I am Dr. Reynolds,” he said. “I am James’s caregiver.”

  Katherine kept one hand on Mary Carol’s arm, ignoring the doctor’s gesture. “And this is how you let him live?” Mary Carol had filled Katherine in on the conditions inside the old Porter place.

  “Please come in,” the man in the black suit said, not responding to Katherine’s comment. “We know you have questions, and the time has come for us to give you answers. My name is Weldon Bartosh. I’ve been a friend of James’s for a very long time.”

  Katherine still didn’t move.

  “Come on, Mamm,” Mary Carol said softly.

  The two men stepped back even farther, and Katherine and her daughter went into the living room.

  “Where is James?”

  Dr. Reynolds sat down in the recliner. “Please, have a seat on the couch. I will explain everything to you. James is upstairs napping, so this is a good time for us to chat.”

  Weldon remained standing as Katherine and Mary Carol sat down.

  “James has an inoperable brain tumor. I am his physician, and as Weldon told you, he has been a friend to James for many years.”

  Katherine brought two fingers to her lips, unsure what to ask first. She decided to ask Dr. Reynolds the question heaviest on her heart. “Is he dying?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry to say that he is. And his dying wish was to see you and his grandchildren. We knew that James would come here, regardless of his condition, so when Agent Weldon told me he intended to follow him, I offered to join him. James and I have been friends for years. My wife died last year and it does me good to have a purpose again.” Dr. Reynolds smiled. “We bring him hot meals in the evening, and even though he rarely changes his clothes, he has a closet full upstairs.”

  Katherine swallowed hard as she glanced at Mary Carol, whose jaw was on the floor. Katherine was still processing the fact that James was dying. “How long does he have . . . to live?” She reached for Mary Carol’s hand and squeezed.

  Dr. Reynolds looked at Weldon, then back at them. “We honestly didn’t think he would live this long.”

  Mary Carol sniffled. “Is he crazy?”

  Dr. Reynolds grinned. “I’m sure he’s told you some stories that might make him appear crazy, but no, that is not his diagnosis. His unpredictable behavior is a result of the tumor growing on his brain. You may have also noticed some unusual physical mannerisms, like his eye twitching.”

  “Or that his limp sometimes goes away?” Katherine said.

  “I’m actually unsure what caused his limp to disappear. Especially since he’d had that his entire life.”

  Maybe God relieved him of the limp, Katherine thought.

  Mary Carol was dabbing at her eyes. “He told us he’d been shot,” she said. “We didn’t think that was true. I guess now I’m wishing that’s all it was instead of hearing that he’s dying.”

  “Oh, he did get shot,” Weldon said. “But that isn’t what’s causing his confusion.”

  “When?” Katherine asked as she sat taller. “Why?”

  Weldon sat down on the arm of the couch farthest from where Katherine and Mary Carol were sitting. “Back when James was living here in Paradise, he witnessed a horrific crime,” Weldon said. “After safely fleeing the scene, he went directly to the police station. He was shaken and fearful. Rightfully so.” Weldon paused and hung his head for a few moments. “James led the police back to the scene, and based on evidence in the house and James’s descriptions, they had a pretty good idea
who he’d seen. These were some bad fellows.” He looked back up. “And once they explained this to James, he was afraid for his family. The police escorted him home, and he gathered a few things. His wife and son were running errands at the time. We put him in protective custody that same day. We encouraged him to leave his wife a note, but he just kept saying to hurry, that she wouldn’t understand. We needed him to be safe until the trial. Then he’d be free to return home. Or so we thought. And we did a pretty good job keeping his identity a secret. But on the day of the trial, despite the security we had for him, someone shot him going up the courthouse steps. They must have assumed he was our key witness. I wanted to pay a visit to his wife, to let her know he’d been injured, but she didn’t have a phone, and if the criminals had gotten to James . . .” He shrugged, shaking his head. “We just couldn’t take a chance that they might be following us, so we didn’t notify her. By then, we knew it was a large ring of delinquents we were dealing with, part of the Philadelphia mob. After he recovered, James went into the witness protection program.”

  “Witness protection?” Katherine took a quick, short breath before she brought her hand to her mouth. Questions were forming faster than she could organize them, but the words wedged in her throat. She felt light-headed, but she didn’t move or say anything.

  “We assumed he would want to bring his wife and son into the program, but he insisted that he would be the only one to go, as long as we could guarantee their safety, which at that point, we thought we could. If he had waited any longer, I don’t know if we could have. It was important to James that his son be raised in this Amish community. And as I said, the goal was to only keep him until the trial ended and all the bad guys were locked up. James didn’t realize—nor did we—that when he left, he wouldn’t return for decades.”

  “Why didn’t they all just move to another Amish district?” Mary Carol’s voice cracked as she spoke. “Maybe in another state?”

  “We offered that to him. We told him that all three of them could start over in a new place with new identities. But he remained fearful that the criminals would find him, and he wanted to be far away from his family if they did.”