A Plain and Sweet Christmas Romance Collection

by Lauralee Bliss

  The midwife returned with clean linen. “There’s someone here to see you,” she said, smiling broadly.

  For a second Susanna didn’t know if the woman addressed her or Phoebe, but when a tall, dark man rushed into the room, Phoebe gave a shout of joy.

  “Tom! Oh Tom!” They embraced, and tears of joy streamed down the young girl’s cheeks. “I made it, Tom,” Phoebe said, between chortles of laughter. “I made it just in time.”

  Tom did not respond, only tightened his hold on his wife.

  Susanna took the opportunity to slip away and search for the Larsons. She found the farmer with another man, emptying the Griffiths’ hay wagon. Mrs. Larson stood nearby.

  “How fares our guest?” the man asked.

  “The midwife says the baby will come soon. I didn’t know you had need of the hay.”

  “Yes, Sister Griffith. That’s the way thy husband and I have arranged the passage. Those who watch the roads see a load of hay headed north and an empty wagon headed south. I sell the hay for thy family. In fact, when thee returns tomorrow, I have a bag of coins to send with thee.”

  “Thank you, but I wish to begin my journey now. My responsibility to Phoebe has been discharged, and my husband’s family expects me today.”

  “No, sister. Stay thee the night. Tomorrow morning Friend Jacobson and his son will escort thee to your home.”

  “I’d rather go while the good weather holds. It’s only four hours to the Griffiths’ farm. If I leave now, I’ll be home just after dark.”

  Mrs. Larson spoke for the first time. “‘Tis not wise to travel the roads at night, sister. I know thee undertook the journey in the dark, but that could not be helped. Thy way home will be much safer.”

  “Besides,” Mr. Larson added, “Brother Jacobson and his son cannot leave until morning. Although we could not offer thee our protection yesterday, we most certainly will tomorrow.”

  There was no way they could force her to stay. If she had to, she could hitch the horses to the wagon by herself and make the journey on her own.

  Mrs. Larson laid a hand on Susanna’s arm, startling her from her thoughts. “Thy mind is easy to read, sister. Thy face shows quite clearly what thee is considering. And thee is correct. My husband and I will not force thee to stay. But thee risked so much to come, why prolong that risk by returning tonight?”

  “My husband’s family will be worried if I don’t return tonight.”

  “Better a sleepless night followed by a morning of rejoicing than months of grief, should any harm come to thee.”

  While Susanna paused to consider her options, Mrs. Larson guided her out of the barn and toward the house. Susanna tossed one last look over her shoulder at the Griffiths’ hay wagon. Although the Larsons’ persuasion had been gentle, they’d made the decision for her. She’d be going home the next morning.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  A band of pale peach light rose above the trees, changing the black sky to violet when Susanna knocked softly at Phoebe’s door. She knew the girl must be exhausted, yet she craved one last look at the beautiful baby born in the wee hours of the morning.

  “Come in,” Phoebe said.

  “I don’t want to disturb you,” Susanna said, entering the room. “I wanted to say good-bye.”

  Phoebe held out a hand, and Susanna sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh ma’am. How am I ever going to finish saying thank you? Because of you, my baby was born free. She’ll never be a slave. I’ll never have to watch her being carted away to another farm far away from me.” Phoebe patted the child cradled in her arms.

  Susanna used her finger to lift the baby’s tiny, fisted hand. “She’s so beautiful. Have you and Tom thought of a name yet?”

  “We came up with the best name in the world for this little girl. We’re going to call her Liberty Susanna.”

  Susanna felt the warmth as it rushed into her cheeks and knew she must be blushing. “Oh Phoebe. You didn’t name her…I mean, you didn’t call her Susanna because…”

  “Of course we did, ma’am. My baby and I owe everything to you. Our lives, our freedom, our whole future. Tom says that once I’m able to travel, we’ll be on the road to Canada. He says your friends have a town there where the freed slaves live and work. It’ll just be wonderful, don’t you think? Me and Tom and Libby?”

  Susanna raised the baby’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “Hello, Libby. You’re a lucky little girl to have such a brave mama.”

  “I don’t know about that, ma’am. From what you told me, sounds like you had to face some mighty big wolves along the way. All I had to do was lie quietly in the bottom of a wagon.”

  “But my adventure’s over.” Susanna tucked the baby’s hand under its blanket. “I’ll be back home in a few hours.” The rumble of men’s voices carried up the stairs. “In fact, that’s probably my escort. Two Friends are going to accompany me this morning.”

  Phoebe squeezed Susanna’s hand. “I hope I get to see you again someday, ma’am. I hope you’ll get to see Libby when she’s all grown up and beautiful. Won’t that be the day? When my little girl can go anywhere she wants and not be afraid of slavers trying to catch her?”

  “I pray that day comes soon.”

  Heavy footsteps trod up the stairs and stopped at Phoebe’s door. “Susanna?” Mrs. Larson called. “Are you there?”

  “Yes. Come in.”

  The door swung open, and Susanna’s heart bounded for joy. There, in the doorway, stood her husband. “Nathan!” She shot off the bed and into his arms.

  Nathan’s arms tightened around her, and his lips brushed her hair. Tears filled Susanna’s eyes as she lifted silent thanks for his safe return.

  “Shh.” Nathan wiped away her tears with his thumb. “No need to cry. Everything’s all right now.”

  “I know,” Susanna whispered, her throat tight. “I know.” She breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of her husband, and her worries evaporated. Nathan was safe and well.

  His work-hardened hands cupped her face, lifting her gaze to his. “What’s this I hear about a blizzard, two bounty hunters, a fire, and a runaway?”

  Susanna ducked her head in embarrassment. Was Nathan angry? How did he know everything?

  “Friend Larson told me all about thy trip when I found him at the meetinghouse,” Nathan said. “I believe thee will have quite a story to tell on the way home.”

  Was that a smile Susanna heard in her husband’s voice? Susanna glanced at Nathan’s face and saw love and approval beaming from his eyes. She laid her head on his chest and rejoiced to feel his arms tighten around her once again.

  The whimper of a baby caused Nathan to ease back from Susanna. “May I meet our special guest?”

  Susanna took his hand and led him to the bed. “Nathan, this is Phoebe and her daughter, Liberty.”

  “Liberty Susanna.” Phoebe moved the blanket away from the baby’s face.

  Nathan smiled down at his wife. “Good name.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The piercing crow of the rooster woke Susanna, but she didn’t have to wonder where her husband was. His arm held her tightly against him under the quilts. After an evening of celebrating her safe return with Nathan’s family, the exhausted couple had returned to their cabin and stumbled into bed.

  Nathan’s lips on her head let Susanna know he no longer slept. “Good morning, Wife,” he said, yawning. “Did thee sleep well?”

  “Very well. It’s good to have you home again.”

  “It’s good to be home.”

  A noise caused Susanna to rise up on one elbow. “Someone’s in the barnyard.”

  “Is there?” Nathan yawned again.

  “You know there is.” Susanna narrowed her eyes. “Why aren’t you concerned?”

  “It’s only Eli. He agreed to tend the stock one more day so we could rest. Lie down again so I may talk to thee.”

  Susanna nestled her head on her husband’s shoulder. “You were mighty quiet yesterday when I told you everything that h
appened on the way to Bear Valley. Now that you’ve had time to think about it, I’m afraid of what you have to say.”

  “Afraid, Susanna? Of me?”

  “No, Nathan. Never. But I fear you will chastise me for the risk I took, and if truth be told, I can’t wait to do it again.”

  Nathan’s fingers stroked Susanna’s hair, the seconds ticking away in silence. Susanna had pledged to obey her husband, and if he forbade her from helping the runaways, she’d have no choice but to abide by his decision. Yet her experience with Phoebe had given her a purpose she’d never imagined. She could no longer simply look the other way.

  Nathan’s fingers stilled. “Thee would risk thy life again to help another runaway?”

  Susanna rose to one elbow and looked into her husband’s dark eyes. “Don’t you risk your life when you go?”

  “Not as much as thee did. A woman traveling alone can be a lure for evil men. Does thee know what losing thee would mean to me? My heart would never heal from such a loss.”

  Susanna’s heart warmed at her husband’s words. “Nor would mine if I lost you. The weeks without you were the loneliest of my life. I’ve come to love your mother and sister as though they were my own family, but they were no substitute for you.”

  Nathan sat up and frowned at Susanna. “As your husband, I have the right to forbid thee from helping the runaways.”

  The very words Susanna had dreaded. But her husband’s serious expression didn’t deter her. “Don’t the Friends believe that men and women are created equal in the eyes of God?”

  “Thee speaks of the testimony of equality, and I do my best to be a witness to that belief. But how can I fulfill my pledge to protect thee if thee refuses to keep thyself away from danger?”

  “It wouldn’t always be as dangerous as it was with Phoebe. Eli and your father both said Phoebe’s situation was unusual. And your sister told me runaways sometimes stay several days until suitable passage can be arranged.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So it’s unlikely that I’ll ever be in such a dangerous circumstance again.”

  “Perhaps,” Nathan muttered between clenched teeth.

  Susanna rose to her knees and faced her husband. “I want to be your equal, Nathan. Knowing that I helped Phoebe and her baby made me feel as though I could fly. Don’t ask me to give up such a wonderful mission. Until slavery is banished from this country, I want to be at your side, fighting it every step of the way.”

  Nathan took Susanna’s hands in his and spoke in a soft tone. “Thee speaks more like a Friend every day. Has thee thought more about petitioning the committee for admittance?”

  “I know your mother wants me to join. I’ve adopted the bonnet, and I enjoy going to First Day Meetings. But you said you’d give me all the time I needed.”

  “And I intend to keep my word. Now that thee wishes to enlist in the Quaker struggle against slavery, I thought that perhaps thee was ready to join.”

  “I love your family, Nathan, and I love you. But taking that last step…throwing off my family’s traditions and taking up yours…oh, I don’t know what’s holding me back.”

  Susanna looked away from her husband’s piercing gaze. He wanted her to join his faith. Was that so awful? If she did take that last step, if she did take up the title of Quaker, would he allow her to aid the runaways who came to the Griffiths for help?

  “Nathan.” Her words struggled past the lump in her throat. “Do you want me to become a Quaker?”

  “That is a question that only thee and thy soul can answer, Susanna. If the Holy Spirit moves thee to join the Society, then I will be glad.”

  She swallowed and looked at her husband. “And if I never join?”

  “Then we will continue as we are. Surely thee knows my love does not hinge on thee becoming a Friend.”

  Susanna blew out a breath. How good Nathan was. How blessed she was to have a husband who loved the Lord and who loved her. Yet the question remained unanswered. “If I petition the committee for admittance, then will you allow me to help you when the runaways come?”

  Nathan laid his cheek in his hand and studied her. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “I will not prevent thee from helping, Susanna. If thee feels moved to do something to help the runaways or to put an end to the abomination of slavery, I will not forbid it. But Susanna, thee must allow me to guide thee in these matters. My family has helped in this cause for many years. Tread softly, Wife, and take the counsel of those who know the dangers.”

  Susanna threw her arms around her husband’s neck, and he fell back on the pillows, his laughter ringing through the cabin. “Hold on there, Wife, or thee will send us both to the cold floor!”

  Susanna snuggled against him, returning her head to his shoulder. “Thank you, Nathan.”

  Nathan’s arms surrounded her. “I do not believe that thee is the same wife I left three weeks ago.”

  “Of course I am. Who else would I be?”

  “‘Tis true thy name is still Susanna Griffith, but thee is not the girl I left. I know thee chafed at being left alone. Yet I returned to find a woman prepared to take on the worst atrocity known to mankind. Mother says thee has grown up.”

  Susanna recalled her pouting and sulking. Had it been only a few days ago that she’d been tempted to brood in the mire of self-pity? She felt her face flush with embarrassment and covered her face with the sheet. “I hope Mother Griffith will forgive me.”

  “Worry not,” Nathan said. “In fact, while thee was telling everyone about thy adventure last night, Mother told me that she and Father have decided they will celebrate Christmas.”

  Susanna’s head popped back up. “Really? Won’t they get in trouble?”

  “Of course not. Our Meeting leaves matters such as these to each person’s conscience. Mother says we will exchange gifts and have a family dinner. Is there more we should do?”

  “No! I mean, that would be wonderful. My family goes to church on Christmas morning, and there are traditional songs—”

  “I can’t promise any singing, Susanna. Thee knows how the Friends feel about music. But if thee wants to sing…”

  “No! I mean…It doesn’t matter. If I feel a Christmas carol coming on, I’ll go to the barn and sing to the animals. How about that?”

  Nathan held her chin in his fingers. “Would thee sing to the animals and not to me? Let me know of thy intention, and I’ll escort thee to the lucky animals that get to hear thy voice lifted in song.”

  Laughter bubbled up from her heart. Helping Phoebe had tested Susanna, and she’d passed the test. All of her fears and worries had been for naught. Phoebe was on her way to safety, Nathan was home, and she could continue to help the fugitive slaves. “Oh Nathan.” Susanna flung her arms around his neck. “Thee is so good to me.”

  Gingerbread Cookies

  (from Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia)

  1 cup sugar

  2 teaspoons ginger

  1 teaspoon nutmeg

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  1½ teaspoons baking soda

  ½ teaspoon salt

  1 cup melted butter

  ½ cup evaporated milk

  1 cup unsulfured molasses

  ¾ teaspoon vanilla

  ¾ teaspoon lemon extract

  4 cups stone-ground or unbleached flour, unsifted

  Combine sugar, ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, baking soda, and salt. Mix well. Add melted butter, evaporated milk, and molasses. Add extracts. Mix well. Add flour 1 cup at a time, stirring constantly. Dough should be stiff enough to handle without sticking to fingers. Knead dough for a smoother texture. Add up to ½ cup additional flour if necessary to prevent sticking. When dough is smooth, roll out to ¼-inch thick on floured surface and cut into cookies. Bake on floured or greased cookie sheets in preheated 375 degree oven for 10 to 12 minutes. Gingerbread cookies are done when they spring back when touched.

  After many years of writing and publishing in the nonfiction world of academia, Claire
Sanders turned her energy, humor, and creativity toward the production of compelling romantic fiction. Claire lives in the greater Houston area with her daughter and two well-loved dogs. When she isn’t writing, you’ll find her cooking, gardening, and dreaming of places to travel.

  Abigail’s Christmas Candles

  by Anna Schmidt

  Chapter 1

  If you ask me, the elders made a poor choice for the teaching position. She may be the bishop’s niece, still…”

  Two local women who had just left the local butcher shop were speaking in low but audible tones as Abigail Yoder passed. Their starched white prayer caps were covered by felt bonnets anchored under their double chins with black fabric ties. Abigail nodded politely, although what she really wanted to do was let them know that they might as well have spoken in their normal voices. Since her arrival in the small Mennonite community of Hope, Wisconsin, she had grown used to the gossip that followed her everywhere. As someone from a similar, if larger, Mennonite community in the lake country of northern New York, she understood that she was viewed as different, and in the Mennonite world, different was not something to which one aspired. Conformity was the rule of the day. One did not stand out either by dress, by speech, or by deed. She had taken great care to wear the dresses her aunt had sewn for her to replace the three dresses she had brought with her. Her own clothes were plain by New York standards, but apparently in Wisconsin, they were viewed as tantamount to ball gowns. As her aunt had explained, the fabric was a finer weave, giving the garment a softer drape from the homespun dresses worn by their neighbors and therefore setting her apart.

  She had moved to Wisconsin because her mother was convinced that Abigail’s uncle Oscar, and his wife, Beulah, were getting “up in years,” as she liked to say. And since the couple had not been blessed with children, her mother insisted that Abigail go to them and fulfill the role that a grown daughter might. “Just look at his last letter,” her mother said. “The village is in need of a teacher—a position your Aunt Beulah is perfectly suited for. Yet according to this”—she waved the letter at Abigail—“Beulah does not wish to teach. That is my brother’s way of saying she is in poor health.”