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A Plain and Sweet Christmas Romance Collection

Page 25

by Lauralee Bliss


  “I wasn’t.”

  She rubbed her hands together, wishing for a moment that she could slip back fifteen years and be honest with him. Tell him that he was the best of friends but that her heart belonged to Conrad. Tell him that he would find an amazing woman who would laugh with him one day—when he was trying to be funny.

  “I’m so sorry, Will.”

  He stepped closer to her. “I was young and stupid,” he said. “When I realized that I loved you as much more than a friend, that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to live without you, I had to speak with you right away. But I should have asked you properly.”

  “You’ve done quite well without me.”

  He didn’t seem to hear her. “I’m standing at a crossroads again, Sophie, but this time, I don’t want to walk away.”

  Her voice softened. “Walk away from what?”

  “Don’t marry John Hoffman,” he said, pleading with her now. “Whether or not you and I have a future together, I don’t want you to ruin your life committed to a man like him.”

  “Oh Will,” she said, feeling light-headed in his shadow. Much had changed since his first raw attempt at a proposal. “I’m not going to marry John.”

  He leaned back against the wall again. “What?”

  “I turned down his proposal.”

  Will stared at her for a moment, seemingly stunned by her words. Then he took another step forward. “Sophie,” he said, his voice low as he reached for her hand.

  Before he continued, the door beside them opened suddenly, and she moved away from him. Peter—Jacob and Liesel’s twelve-year-old son—glanced back and forth between them before shouting over his shoulder. “They’re here.”

  Liesel bounded out into the corridor. “I’m so glad you’ve arrived,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “I was getting worried.”

  Sophie glanced back at Will, and he shrugged his shoulders. But he was smiling again at her, and she reveled in it.

  Inside the family room, the coffee table was filled with plates of Christmas cookies baked earlier this month at the kitchen house—peppernut, cinnamon, black walnut, molded springerli, and honey cookies shaped as bells, trees, and Christmas wreaths. Beside the table was a traditional white wooden pyramid that stood higher than Sophie’s waist. The pyramid was layered with round tiers, each one topped with wooden or glass figures of shepherds, sheep, and magi. When Jacob lit the candles, the tiers slowly began to rotate, colorful lights flickering across the ceiling and wall.

  Meredith and Cassie were playing a board game on the braided rug that covered the wooden floor. Peter was arranging the shoes in front of the coal stove for Saint Nicholas’s gifts while Jacob and Liesel sat on their black sofa, laughing with each other.

  “It’s magical,” Sophie whispered to Will.

  “Indeed.”

  Inside her raged a new longing. Instead of just standing near her, she wished Will would wrap his arms around her, hold her tight. He knew her so well, both the good and the bad, and yet he still seemed to love her. No pretense. No facade.

  Sophie looked up at Will. “Why didn’t you ever leave the colonies?”

  “Because everything I ever wanted and needed was right here,” he said, his eyes on her face. “Until now.”

  The butterfly wings fluttered again. “I don’t know what to say, Will.”

  “Promise me something,” he whispered.

  She glanced nervously at everyone across the room, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them. “What is it?”

  “Promise me that you won’t accept another man’s proposal until I’m able to say what’s on my mind.” His gaze swept the room. “Without an audience.”

  She hesitated only a moment before smiling. “I promise.”

  Meredith hopped up from the floor, moving toward them. Instead of talking to Sophie though, she spoke to Will. “Will you play a game with us?”

  Will winked at Sophie before swiping a cookie off the table. Then he sat down on the rug.

  A year ago, she never would have imagined that she would be spending Christmas Eve back in Amana, celebrating the birth of their Savior with her dear friends, but here she was. Meredith was happy, and now it seemed that Will might still want a future alongside her.

  The butterflies stopped moving as she sat between Will and Meredith.

  For the first time in a long time, her heart felt content.

  Chapter 9

  Hoarfrost clung to pinecones and branches as Will steered the horse-drawn sleigh through the snowy forest. The frost glistened in the sunlight, and Sophie felt as if they were gliding through the grand halls of a crystal palace. Everything sparkled around them—the snow, the trees, the pond emerging in front of them.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  He pulled on the reins, and the horses stopped near the edge of Lily Pond.

  It was January 16th. The train from Homestead left yesterday morning filled with one hundred thousand yards of wool, headed straight for the Sears, Roebuck & Co. warehouse in Chicago. Some of their miners had returned to Des Moines on the westward-bound train while others had called for their families to join them in Amana while they finished fulfilling the other orders.

  She glanced across the frozen pond. “What are we doing here?”

  “I wanted to give you a belated Christmas present,” he said, smiling. “From Saint Nicholas.”

  She pressed her gloved hands together. “What is it?”

  Will reached under a blanket in the backseat and pulled out a pair of brown ice skates. “Oh—” She gasped. She’d left her pair behind when she moved from Amana.

  “Allow me.” As she sat in the sled, he stood in front of her and unlaced her boots. Then he laced up the new skates.

  It was just like old times.

  “They’re a perfect fit,” she said. So different from the gift of a Stanley Steamer—and so much better. It was exactly what she wanted.

  After he put on his skates, he held out his hand. “Do you remember how to ice-skate?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

  “I’ll help you,” he said.

  They moved slowly at first around the edge of the pond, her shaky legs trying to recall the art of balance. Then they flowed into a gentle rhythm as they glided around the pond, under a sky that glittered blue.

  She imagined herself at one of the balls in Des Moines, dressed in an exquisite gown, the shimmering color of frost. But this time she was happy, her heart overflowing with joy. This time Will was making her smile.

  “I have another gift,” he said, steering her back toward the sleigh.

  As she waited, he drew out a dried bouquet made of cattails and milkweed, bound together with red and white ribbons. “I wish it was daisies,” he said with a lopsided grin.

  She clutched the winter bouquet to her chest. “It’s perfect, Will.”

  His eyes met her gaze, steady and strong. “There are some things I would never tease about,” he said.

  She trembled, the familiar wings fluttering again inside her.

  “One of those is my love for you, Sophie,” he said. “I’ve tried and tried over the years to move on, but my heart won’t let me. I want to keep loving you, for the rest of our lives.”

  Her mind spun again, as it had since he’d asked her on Christmas Eve to wait, trying to figure out how she could marry Will when they both lived in such different worlds.

  For a moment, she imagined Will returning to Des Moines with her and Meredith, living in their house on Sherman Hill. “Would you ever leave Amana?” she asked.

  He reached for her hand. “I don’t want the treasures of this world, Sophie,” he said. “All I want is the treasure of your heart.”

  With his words, the butterflies in her stomach calmed, the ice coated around her heart thawing. “I have to talk to Meredith.”

  When his face flushed, she pulled her hand away from him and placed it on her hip, feigning irritation. “You already talked
to her?”

  “I knew you’d want her blessing.”

  Her head tilted. “And?”

  “She said I better hurry before either of us changed our minds.”

  Laughter bubbled up from deep inside her, spilling out on this winter day. She and Meredith both loved being in Amana. And they both loved being with Will.

  Was it possible that they could really stay here for good?

  His fingers entangled hers again, and then he gently took off her glove, pulled her hand to his lips. The tenderness from his kiss warmed her entire body.

  “What will the elders say?” she asked.

  “They will welcome you back—if you really want to come home.”

  “Home,” she said, repeating his word. “It’s exactly what I want.”

  “Will you marry me, Sophie?” he asked, kneeling down in the snow.

  This time she didn’t laugh. This time she told him that she wanted nothing more than to become his wife.

  Amana Honey Cookies

  4 cups honey

  2⅓ cups brown sugar

  ½ teaspoon cinnamon

  3 teaspoons baking soda

  ¼ cup whiskey

  4 eggs

  9½ cups unbleached flour

  Vanilla frosting (optional)

  Warm honey on stove top. Stir in brown sugar. When lukewarm, add cinnamon. Dissolve baking soda in whiskey. Combine honey and baking soda mixtures in a large bowl. Stir in eggs and flour. Cover and chill overnight.

  Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Knead dough until it is springy. Roll dough into 1- to 2-inch thick ropes. Cut ropes into approximately 2-inch long pieces and place on greased baking sheet. Bake for 10 minutes until cookies are golden brown. After they cool, ice with frosting if desired. Makes about 11 dozen cookies.

  Note: With fifty-five kitchen houses in the Amana Colonies, there are many different versions of this cookie recipe. This recipe was based on one featured in Emilie Hoppe’s Seasons of Plenty (Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 1998).

  Author’s Note

  This novella is the continuation of a story started in Love Finds You in Amana, Iowa and Love Finds You in Homestead, Iowa.

  The Amana Colonies are a cluster of seven quaint villages tucked into Iowa’s beautiful rolling hills. For eighty years, the Amana Society provided food, housing, medical care, and schooling for each member and their children. While the Amana people no longer live and work in a communal society, they share a profound spiritual heritage that continues today as they worship and work together.

  Thank you for joining me on this journey. For more information about my Amana novels and other books, please visit my website at www.melaniedobson.com.

  Three-time Carol Award winner and bestselling author of fifteen novels, Melanie Dobson is the former corporate publicity manager at Focus on the Family and owner of Dobson Media Group. Because of her husband’s work in the film industry, their family has lived in multiple states as well as Germany, but the Dobson family is settled for now in a small town near Portland, Oregon. Melanie loves connecting with readers via her website at www.melaniedobson.com.

  Love Is Forever

  by Jerry Eicher

  Chapter 1

  September 7, 1941

  Mattie Beiler stole a quick glance out of the kitchen window of her parent’s old Lancaster County farmhouse. The trees in the yard were still green. Their fall rush of yellow and gold had yet to come, but before too many weeks passed, all of Lancaster County would be one glorious display of the Lord’s handiwork. A smile crept across Mattie’s face. Nature was full of the Lord’s beauty as was her heart. For a long time the Lord had blessed her with a wunderbaar love for a young man.

  Mattie’s smile dimmed at the thought—a long time. Jah, Mervin Yoder wasn’t exactly young anymore, and neither was she. They should have been wed last year, but she was not going to think about that at the moment. This year’s wedding season approached, and Mervin would wed her in November. He would have to. He had purchased a farm last month, and they could discuss their plans in detail after supper tonight.

  Mattie hadn’t told Mervin this when she gave him the invitation, “Just a special evening for the two of us.”

  Mervin hadn’t hesitated long, so surely his mind was made up about their fall wedding and his doubts banished forever. Hadn’t the Lord led them this far? Jah, He had. Right through last year when Mervin postponed their wedding. She had to believe now.

  Mervin’s buggy would appear soon. He’d drive over from his parents’ place farther west toward Lancaster. His face would be aglow with the prospect of the evening spent with her. She would also let her joy show, even if the future was anything but certain.

  “Be with us, Lord.” Mattie breathed the quick prayer as she turned back to the stove.

  She couldn’t blame Mervin exactly. There were reasons. Mervin hesitated this year because of what might happen to the community’s young men when the horrible English war in Europe came to America. Daed had even begun to buy a newspaper when he came through town to keep up on the news.

  “You must trust the Lord, Lamar,” Mamm chided him often, but Daed still brought the paper home and pored over the pages while he sat in his rocker in the evenings.

  From the lines of concern written on his face, the news was not gut. Daed made sure he took the papers with him into the bedroom and shoved them under the bed, but Mattie cleaned the house on Saturdays and scanned the paragraphs while Mamm was occupied elsewhere in the house. The names of the cities and political parties meant little to her, but she could understand enough to know that this was war, an awful war. All of the news seemed related to this madman Hitler, who had stormed over Europe with his armies and tanks. The community believed in peace, and they trusted the Lord. None of them could ever take up arms in the defense of anything. So if the United States joined the war and the community’s young men were called to serve in the army, they would refuse. This would not sit well with the government authorities or with their English neighbors.

  Already Mrs. Falks, who lived a mile down the road and stopped in for vegetables from the Beilers’ garden, had begun to speak of what might lie ahead. “If it comes to war,” Mrs. Falks had said, “my grandson Eugene will be signing up to fight. That Hitler’s doing awful things over there, and someone must stop him. Right now our government is of another mind, but madmen can’t be ignored.”

  Mrs. Falks had jerked her head for emphasis. Her look of fierceness lingered even after she left with her vegetables. Likely the old woman knew that none of the community’s young men would fight and wanted to make clear where she stood on the matter. Dark times lay ahead, indeed.

  But Mervin was on the way. And Mervin loved her, and Mattie loved him. They would enjoy Sunday supper with Daed and Mamm tonight. The food wasn’t plentiful in these difficult economic times, but she had an offering of potatoes and gravy with corn and beans simmering on the stove.

  Money wasn’t plentiful in the Beilers’ household or, for that matter, in any of the community’s homes. The Depression had taken its toll, as it had on their English neighbors. Mamm shopped in Lancaster or Guys Mills for what they didn’t have but needed. The rest they grew on the farm. Thankfully, no one had gone hungry.

  And love continued even with all the troubles in the world.

  “Maybe the next wedding season we can marry,” Mervin had told her after his purchase of a farm had fallen through last year.

  They had never set the date exactly. Mervin always avoided the subject, but their love shouldn’t have had to wait this long. She should have been Mervin’s frau for many months now. If the Lord had so willed, she could have born Mervin a little one late this summer. Instead, she held empty arms and life moved on with only hope in her heart.

  Mattie lifted the lid on the gravy and took a long breath. Perfect, but she had best taste the final product. Mamm always warned, “Better safe than sorry.” With the spoon, Mattie extracted a sample and blew vigorously. She tasted it, and
the gravy melted on her tongue. Perfect! The scarce salt had been enough, and Mervin was worth every expense.

  “About right?” Mamm’s voice teased from the kitchen doorway.

  Mattie smiled. “It’s about as right as right can be—not unlike Mervin himself.”

  “So he’s coming tonight?”

  “Of course! It’s time we discuss our wedding plans.”

  Mamm busied herself with setting the table.

  Mattie turned to face her. “You don’t object, do you? I…Mamm, we can’t wait again. I could have kinner by now—Mervin’s and mine. This is not right that we’re still unwed.”

  “Calm yourself,” Mamm told her. “The years roll past soon enough, and this trouble will be over before long.”

  “I—I—we—” Mattie sputtered. The heat from the stove flamed her face. “Surely you’re not suggesting that—”

  “I’m not saying anything,” Mamm interrupted, “because I don’t know anything. No one does. That’s the worst of it. Though Deacon Joe did ask Daed at the last Sunday services how things were going between you and Mervin. I guess the ministry is concerned with our young couples and the choices they make in these difficult times.”

  “He knows how things are going!” Mattie exploded. “Mervin bought a farm last month, and Deacon Joe knows this. Surely he has no objection to our marriage this wedding season.”

  “Jah, the deacon knows.” Mamm tried to calm her. “And the purchase of the farm was a wise choice, but we must take council easily, Mattie. Remember that. It’s the way of the community.”

  “And so is love and marriage and kinner!” The words burst out.

  “Mervin’s here,” Mamm said. “Control yourself, and don’t sound like that in front of Mervin. He might think he’s getting a forward woman for a frau.”

  “Mervin loves me, and I love him,” Mattie muttered. “We’re getting married this fall.”

 

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