A Plain and Sweet Christmas Romance Collection
Page 18
“Mom practically crawled out of her sickbed to make it happen.”
“What a treat. We still have a full house, but the townsfolk are helping to make their stay comfortable. We’re even going to have special Christmas services. The Mennonite preacher’s coming here and is going to preach in English. It’s been hard not meeting since the storm. And regular services won’t be until next week. Can you come?”
“I’m sure it will be wonderful. But with Mom still recovering and Dad’s situation, we won’t make it.”
“I understand. Thanks for the cookies. Merry Christmas and God bless.”
Hanna hugged the cook and asked to see the manager.
“He’s in the supply room.”
Martin followed her carrying the bundle of blankets, which were also accepted with gushes of gratitude. “You’ll be happy to know that the train is expected to get back on schedule day after Christmas.”
Three days, Hanna calculated, exchanging a regretful glance with Martin.
“Thanks for the news.” As Martin gave the other man a firm handshake, Hanna turned her gaze away.
Feigning a smile, she choked out, “Merry Christmas,” then headed into the main area to, at last, warm up by the hearth. “This feels heavenly.”
“I’m sure all these occupants appreciate the shelter.”
Glancing around, she noticed how families were clustered together. A teenager was entertaining a group of children with an animated story. Many of the men were absent, probably doing business or seeking employment, working toward their future in becoming a part of the community. She couldn’t know for sure, but from snatches of English conversation, a high percentage of the group consisted of stranded passengers.
“Jah. This is a good place to be stranded.”
“But not as good as your soddy.”
A sullenness fell over them, and they warmed in silence for several minutes. The heat caused Hanna’s eyes to grow heavy, but she knew she couldn’t give in to such a comfort. “We should be on our way.” Slipping her gloves on, she stood and started toward the door.
Catching up to her, Martin informed, “I’d like to stop by the blacksmith’s before we start home.”
Startled, she nodded. Of course, he’d promised her dad to make arrangements with Kir before he left Mountain Lake. In the few minutes they spent by the hearth, he must have been making plans that didn’t include her. So much for his threat to run Kir away. That had been his heart talking, not his head. She straightened her shoulders and worked hard to keep pace as they dragged their empty hand-sleds behind them. It hurt that God would take him away the day after Christmas.
At the blacksmith’s, Kir looked up from his forge, sweat beading his forehead. He worked coatless, his shirt strained beneath his muscular form. He lay aside his tongs and motioned them forward. Hanna hovered near the fire. “How is your father?”
“He’s healing and his spirits are high.”
“Good.” He turned to Martin. “And the farm?”
Martin replied, “Everything’s in order. But Filipp and I have some matters to attend to tomorrow. Would you be able to find someone to take on the morning chores? We should be back by evening.”
“Sure. I can do it.”
Martin tightened his mouth, and Hanna could see it irked him to accept her suitor’s help. But not enough to change his mind and stay in Mountain Lake. Once he stepped onto Canadian soil, he’d probably forget all about her. She watched the two men, saw the challenge in their eyes, and wondered for a moment if Martin was going to object after all. Normally, Mennonite men didn’t resort to fighting, but the occasional skirmish was known to happen. And Kir would have the upper hand when it came to brute strength. But Martin was stronger than he looked. She caught her breath and held it as they bristled their male feathers, but finally Martin relented. “Mr. Friesen will be grateful.”
It angered her that circumstances were not going her way, and she felt like punishing Martin. “I’m grateful, Kir,” she said. “I won’t forget your kindness.” She didn’t dare look at Martin but could feel his hot gaze. Let him hurt now, for she was sure she would feel the pain of his loss for months after his departure.
But when Kir’s eyes brightened and he replied, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she felt sorry to have raised his hopes.
With a quick nod, she turned toward Martin and saw giant snowflakes filling the air behind him. “It’s snowing. We’d better go now.”
In silence they started home. The snow feathered Hanna’s lashes and peppered her cheeks with icy taps. But soon the sensations dulled as her mind worked in circles, going over the village conversations. The train is leaving after Christmas. Martin and Filipp are making arrangements for their departure. Kir will be underfoot for weeks to come.
“Hanna!”
With irritation, she glanced sideways. “What?”
“Let’s rest a bit.”
She slowed to a stop beside a rocky outcropping, sure he wasn’t actually needing a physical rest if she wasn’t. “We shouldn’t stop.”
“Just for a moment.” He motioned her toward a stone ledge where they could take temporary shelter from the wind and snow. “This is a cozy spot. Don’t you think?”
She rolled a frustrated gaze to the stone overhead. “What do you want? We need to get home before dark.”
“To explain.” Feeling her resolve weaken, she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. He moved so close she could feel his frosty breath. “I can tell you’re angry with me. Can you just trust that I’m doing what is best for both of us? And keep in mind, things are not always as they seem.”
She studied him, releasing her lip. “I admit I’m disappointed. And frustrated with God.”
“Better to trust Him, too.”
“I know. I’m usually the one telling that to everybody else.” She smiled. “I’ll try.”
He placed his arm around her shoulder and dipped his head close. “Are you warm enough?”
Was he going to kiss her again? Was she going to allow him the privilege? But he hugged her and drew away. “Don’t be alarmed, but I noticed large cat tracks behind you. And you’re right that it’ll soon get dark. We’d better go.” And taking her hand, he drew her back to the safety of the road.
Chapter 9
It quit snowing sometime during the night. The brothers left before Hanna awakened, and when she went to the kitchen to help her mother prepare breakfast, Kir tapped on the door. He carried a pail of milk in one hand and water in the other.
“Thought you might need this.”
Hanna smiled. “Thanks. Coffee’s ready.”
Her mom wiped her hands on her apron. “Would you mind helping Dmitri to the table?”
“Sure.” Kir nodded.
But it took them a long while to return to the kitchen. “Was Dad dressed?” Hanna finally asked her mom impatiently.
“Jah. They’re probably just talking.”
This sent a foreboding up Hanna’s spine that trembled her hands and spilled the coffee. She quickly moved to clean up the spot. Mom shot her an inquiring look.
When the two men appeared, they both sported smiles. Kir thanked them for the coffee and left the house, shooting Hanna a parting grin over his shoulder. Hanna pushed coffee toward her dad, once again splashing it over the rim. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.”
“Perhaps love is in the air,” Dad suggested.
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Hanna replied sharply, mopping up her mess for the second time.
“Oh, no? Kir just asked me if he could court you, and I gave him my permission.”
Hanna twisted the rag in front of her. “What? But I’m not ready.”
“Why not?”
She looked at her mom, who nodded.
“Because my feelings are for Martin.”
“What?” Dad thundered, grabbing the edge of the table with both hands. “Has he made his intentions known? Why haven’t I heard about this?”
“Surely you’re not going with him?” Dad demanded, looking aghast.
Her mom looked suddenly alarmed, too.
“No,” Hanna assured them. “He didn’t ask. But I’m not interested in Kir.”
“Ach. So it’s just bad timing. Just a flirtation.” Her dad relaxed his shoulders but still carried a grudge. “I wish I’d known he was tampering with your feelings. Getting cozy in our soddy and disrespecting our hospitality. You need to get him out of your mind and think about Kir. He’s a man who can provide a good life for you here. He’s forthright about his intentions and his feelings for you.”
“I know. But I’m not ready for that right now.” Didn’t know if she’d ever be.
Dad narrowed his eyes. “He’s patient, but take care you don’t turn him away. You’ve already done that once. He’s older than you, and he’s ready to settle down.”
“I know you like him, but don’t you see why I can’t make any promises right now?”
Her dad pointed at his wife. “You talk to her.”
“Your coffee’s getting cold,” Sonya replied.
Frosty looks exchanged between the parents, and thankfully, the topic was dropped.
But that afternoon when Hanna returned the pails to the barn, Kir asked if he could show her something. A little leery but hoping it had something to do with the farm, she allowed him to lead her around the corner of the barn. He grinned and pointed toward an ice sculpture. “For you.”
Her jaw dropped when she saw the amazing piece of artwork, which gave her an intimate peek into the man’s soul and what it would be like to be cherished by him. “It’s beautiful.”
“Jah. The curlicue reminded me of flowers, so I thought I’d make you an ice bouquet.”
She swallowed, taking in the branches with icicles he’d arranged and potted in a snowbank, which he had carved to look like a curved vase. She placed her hands on her hips and tried not to let him see how the gesture had touched her. “I guess there’s not enough chores to keep you busy,” she teased.
“When I’m working here, I can only think about you. About us. It’s a long time until spring, and real flowers and courting. So I improvised.” He looked so proud it broke her heart.
“It’s a beautiful gesture. But I shouldn’t have encouraged you yesterday.”
“At the smithy, I work the forge. Embers sometimes burn so low they seem cold. It doesn’t take much to fan them back to life.” He stepped close and took her hand. “Though I’m ready to make a commitment, I won’t rush you. Trust me to handle your embers with care.”
Kir was too dear a person to string along, with all his talk about fire and love. He deserved better than she had to give him. “I’m sorry. But you’re wrong about me. Those embers are cold. They aren’t going to come back to life again.”
She saw the pain in his eyes and refused to look away until he met her gaze with understanding. “Then I’ll wait until spring. Everything comes alive in the spring.”
“No. Not everything. Because I love someone else.”
His gaze hardened. “Penner,” he spat, dropping her hands.
She knew she needed to finish it now, for his sake as well as her own. “It’s not his fault. And he warned me that he’s not staying in Mountain Lake.” Once she started explaining, everything spilled out, “But now I know that I wasn’t in love with you. And you deserve someone better than what I’d have to offer you.”
He bent, picked up a nearby rock, and crushed the icicle bouquet. “Happy?”
She gasped, stepping backward, slightly frightened at the brute strength he possessed and the sudden fury she read in his eyes.
“I talked to your dad.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But he’ll release you from all your promises. About everything…and the farm.”
“Then after today, I won’t be burdening you with my presence. I’ll find someone else to take care of your farm.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied. But his eyes remained cold, so she turned and fled for the house. Tears froze her cheeks as she paused on the porch to get control of her emotions. She knew she’d done the right thing, but she felt ashamed and distraught. Getting through the next few days would be hard. Lord, please help Kir to heal, and give me the strength I need to tell Dad and say good-bye to Martin. Lord, everything’s so messed up. I need You.
♦ ♦ ♦
Meanwhile, Martin stood spellbound as he gazed at a frozen plot of land situated in a small valley with a large ice crusted creek cutting through its western border. It was farther from the village than the Friesen farm, but it was a perfect property for farming and raising animals. The trees grew in clumps along the creek, but the majority of the land was ready to cultivate and develop.
Martin pointed to the east. “See that slope? We could build a soddy there like the Friesens’.”
He felt the pressure of Filipp’s grip upon his shoulder. “I’m partial to the openness, not having to remove so many trees. There’s plenty of lumber for building. I’m not sure we could have found such a perfect parcel in Canada. I hear the land there is thick with trees and brush. And you know how lazy I am.” He grinned. “And the journey won’t be as long and hard for the children.”
Martin felt responsible for the daring switch they were considering. “You think Dad will be disappointed in us? Mad?”
“Nah. He’ll be proud of us. He’ll get over Canada. It was the only option he’d heard of, and we understand why he chose it. Mountain Lake fulfills all those requirements of being able to worship and live among our own people. But we just have to make sure we’re making a good investment. Buying the right piece of land. That’s what concerns me.”
Martin replied, “The price is right. But with this parcel, we’d have to be self-sufficient in the winter, so far from the village.”
Filipp nodded. “But at least we would have neighbors.”
The land agent, a robust, thick-chested man with thick black eyebrows, was listening and jumped into the conversation. “Folks in this area take the creek until they get to the main road. This is a tributary off the Watonwan River. It’s a bit farther than taking the road but more navigable in winter.”
Suddenly skeptical and feeling the weight of responsibility their dad had placed on them, Martin asked, “Does the property flood?”
The agent rubbed his black stubbly chin. “Not here. Closer to the main river it would, but this is a solid property, or I wouldn’t have brought you here. I was a German immigrant once myself. Even lived in Russia for a while. When the railroad set up the Immigration House, I knew I wanted to be a part of helping newcomers and got hired on in the land office.”
“We trust you. That’s why we’re considering staying in Mountain Lake—the good people we’ve met. But our dad’s life savings are at stake. So we’ll take a look at the maps when we get back to your office.”
The land agent replied, “Sure. But first, I’ll take you to another area that’s open now. It’s closer to the village, but this was my favorite. By the way, this property also has more land patents available, even adjoining, if you boys want to buy your own land someday soon. In fact, the railroad’s put financial aid in place if you want to buy it now while it’s available.”
Martin exchanged a meaningful look with Filipp. This settled his choice, before he’d even seen the other parcel. His heart thundered with excitement. He knew his perception was clouded by his desire for Hanna and crazy dreams about their future. But on the other hand, there were many good reasons they were making the right choice. For instance, they would have to start this process all over again in Canada, and it would be harder because they wouldn’t know a soul.
♦ ♦ ♦
Martin and Filipp returned their horses to the livery, and Martin waited outside as Filipp paid the liveryman. Martin was considering the advantages of purchasing a horse when suddenly he felt a p
ainful clamp upon his shoulder, which spun him completely around.
“What—” he gasped. Then he saw the glaring eyes of the hulky blacksmith from across the street. He tried to shrug out of the determined man’s grip. “Let me go.”
But Kir held tight and clutched the front of his coat with his other hand. “You told me you’d be back to do the evening chores. You lied. Just like you have about everything.”
Martin choked, “We’ll get them done.”
“You’re a phony. Filling Hanna with your romantic ideas.”
Getting angrier by the minute, Martin lashed out with both arms trying to free himself, and when he was suddenly released, he stumbled. As he found his footing, a hard fist met his jaw, knocking him to the ground. Blood warming his mouth, he jumped up and rammed the blacksmith in the chest with both hands.
“Stop!” Filipp shouted, jumping between them to keep Martin from charging again. At the same time, the liveryman clutched Kir’s arm, reasoning with him.
Kir easily shook free and pointed a thick finger in Martin’s face. “You get to the farm and take care of your responsibility. And stay away from Hanna. Then come Monday, you’d better be on that train.”
“You need to butt—” Martin started, but Filipp pulled him away, shaking his head.
“Let him cool off.”
As they dragged their sleds to the edge of the village, Martin touched his jaw, blotted the blood from his mouth. Then he grinned. “Just when I thought I had everything worked out. Think there’s another blacksmith in town? We’re going to need a blacksmith, aren’t we?”
Filipp laughed. “And you thought I was the rascal who would mess up our mission. Who would’ve thought I’d be the one trying to keep you straight?”
“He started it.”
“This whole detour has been your undoing, not mine.”
“I guess you’re right about that. But we need to quit talking and get to the farm. It appears we’ve still got chores to do.” He hoped that Hanna and her mother hadn’t taken up the slack. And when they reached the Friesen farm, sure enough the chores were finished and everything was in order. Thus, he went to sleep on Christmas Eve feeling uneasy. He hoped it wouldn’t mar the surprise he had intended for Hanna and her family.