Amish Christmas Twins

by Patricia Davids

  Willa quickly shook her head. John would make a fine husband, but not for her. Marriage would mean more children and more chances to hurt them. “I won’t marry again.”

  “You are too young to say this. Forgive the meddling of an old woman who would like to see her son happy again.”

  Willa managed a half-hearted smile. “You are forgiven. What can I do now?”

  Rebecca appeared at her elbow. “You can help me set the tables.”

  “I can do that.” Willa jumped at the chance to escape Vera’s watchful eyes. If only she could escape the sudden longing Vera’s suggestion had unleashed in her heart.

  Willa followed Rebecca’s lead and began setting a knife, fork, cup and saucer at each place. Vera came along behind them pouring coffee into the cups. Some of the women were rolling up their sleeves, ready to wash the plates and cups as soon as the diners were done with them; others were cutting cakes and desserts. Everyone was chatting and laughing.

  Willa was amazed at how natural it felt to be doing such ordinary tasks with Vera and her friends. For a little while, she forgot about being discovered or needing to constantly look over her shoulder. Everyone accepted her at face value. Much of the talk among the women was about the fire the previous night and how thankful they were that it hadn’t been worse. A few talked about visiting family for Thanksgiving, but the conversation soon turned to Christmas and everyone’s plans.

  Lillian Bowman, one of the teachers, announced the school program would be held twice this year because of the number of people expected to attend. The children would perform at two o’clock and again at six o’clock on Christmas Eve. Willa’s school Christmas programs had been some of the highlights of her childhood, as they were for all Amish children. She thought of her girls and knew she wanted them to experience the same excitement over the true meaning of Christmas as she had when she was young.

  Returning to join the Amish might have been an act of desperation on her part, but Willa began to believe it was also the best decision. She had been one week away from making that choice when she was fifteen. So much had changed in the intervening years, but now that she was twenty-five, she was free to make her choice again.

  Rebecca and her sister-in-law Fannie Bowman told the women they had plans to take several groups caroling on December 19. Everyone who wanted to join them could meet at the Stroud Stables at three o’clock. The bishop’s wife called for everyone’s attention and said she planned to hold a cookie exchange on the twenty-third as long as she could keep the bishop from eating all the cookies until everyone arrived.

  Willa was laughing with the others when she looked across the room and met John’s gaze. He had come in to eat. He gave her a small smile and a nod. She felt the color rush to her cheeks, but she smiled back.

  Looking down, she laid another knife by a cup and saucer. She could almost pretend this was her family and her church group and that this was where she belonged. That the plans for Christmas included her and her children. When she looked up again, John stood across the table from her. He said, “It’s nice to see you looking happy among us.”

  She glanced toward the women gathered in the kitchen. “I have missed this feeling of belonging and sharing. I didn’t realize how much until today.”

  “I pray you find it again where you are going.”

  It seemed as if he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. He took his plate to the table and left shortly afterward.

  Had John come to care for her as his mother had suggested. She was flattered, but she hoped his mother was mistaken. Willa didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He had suffered so much loss in his life already. She didn’t want to add to his sadness.

  Willa looked for him outside after she had eaten lunch and helped the women clean up. She scanned the farmyard and quickly located him. He was easy to pick out in the sea of black suits and hats for he stood a good head taller than most of the men standing outside in the cold sunshine. He was joking and smiling as he visited with them. The mood in this community was so much brighter and happier than the church group where she had grown up. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if her great-aunt’s congregation were like this one?

  A group of teenage girls passed Willa on their way to the large shed now empty of benches. There would be volleyball and other games held inside the spacious building. Most of the youths in their rumspringa would remain for the singing that would be held after supper that evening. After that, many would pair up for a buggy or sleigh ride home with a date. Willa had looked forward eagerly to her rumspringa, her running around time, when she was growing up, but her father’s decision to leave the faith had prevented her from having a normal Amish teenage life. How different would her life have been if he hadn’t made that choice?

  She didn’t blame him. He had his reasons for leaving. Willa’s mother had suffered from deep bouts of depression, something the community and others in the family didn’t understand. His attempts to get her help from outside had been met with firm disapproval. Her father left to get her mother the help she needed, but in the end, it didn’t matter. Her mother accidently took too many of the pills Willa’s father was sure would help. Willa knew he simply gave up on life after his wife’s death. They were both gone before Willa turned nineteen. If not for meeting Glen, Willa had no idea what she would have done. He became her rock. In spite of the sorrow that had touched her life, Willa knew she was blessed. She wouldn’t have Lucy and Megan if she hadn’t married Glen. She wouldn’t trade being their mother for anything.

  John noticed her and nodded in her direction. She gestured to the empty hamper she carried and then to the buggy so he knew what she was doing.

  She was looking about for the twins when John approached with an older man he introduced as Isaac Bowman. “Isaac has some news about his daughter-in-law Mary.”

  Willa brightened. “I looked forward to meeting her today. I understand she is from Hope Springs. I have family in that area that I haven’t seen in many years. I was hoping she might know them.”

  “Mary, my son Joshua and my wife left here late last night to go to the hospital in Millersburg. We had received word that Mary’s grandmother had fallen ill. She used to live with Joshua and Mary, but she moved in with her daughter in Hope Springs last fall. I learned a short time ago that she passed away. Our family will be leaving to attend the funeral in Hope Springs later this week. I’m sure Mary will be happy to visit with you about the folks she knows when she returns.”

  Willa hid her disappointment. “I’m sorry for her loss. I’m leaving tomorrow, so I won’t have the chance to meet her.”

  Vera came to join them beside the sleigh. “I just heard about Ada. What a shame. I know how much she loved Mary and how she adored little Hannah. Many people will miss her. Do we know what happened?”

  “Only that she passed away,” Isaac said.

  Vera shook her head. “It’s so sad, but Ada Kaufman lived a long life. We grieve for you and your family, but we also rejoice in the knowledge that she is with our Lord in heaven.”

  Willa’s breath caught in her throat. Ada Kaufman was her great-aunt’s name. They couldn’t be talking about her, could they? Surely not. Kaufman was a common Amish name. Willa didn’t want to believe that she had traveled all this way only to have her refuge crumble before she reached it.

  John took the hamper from Willa’s hands and stowed it under the back seat. “Nick Bradley got the call last night when he took me home after the safety meeting. He said his wife thought Ada was having another heart attack. He left my place to pick up Joshua and Mary and take them to the hospital.”

  “Miriam would want her daughter with her at such a time,” Vera said.

  Willa’s hope that it wasn’t her great-aunt faded. Ada had a daughter named Miriam and a son named Mark, but how was the sheriff involved with her family? Willa looked at John. “Is the sheriff related
to them?”

  “He is Miriam’s husband. Mary is their adopted daughter,” Isaac said.

  “I don’t understand.” A chill settled in Willa’s chest. How could her cousin Miriam be married to the English sheriff?

  Isaac slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat. “It’s an unusual story. Ada’s daughter, Miriam, left the Amish and became a nurse after her brother died. The way I understand it, Ada and her husband were shunned by their church group because of Miriam’s choice. They were members of an ultraconservative Swartzentruber church. I’m not sure where Ada came from originally. I think it was Millersburg, but Mary will know. Ada moved to Hope Springs and joined a more progressive Amish church so that she could see her daughter. When Ada’s health began to fail, Miriam came home to take care of her. One night, someone left a baby on Ada’s doorstep. Can you believe that?”

  Willa pressed a hand to her throat. Had some other poor woman heard the voices that weren’t real and done something she regretted? “Perhaps the babe’s mother was ill and didn’t know what she was doing.”

  Isaac shook his head. “She knew. Mary was a homeless and destitute child herself, barely sixteen years old. She thought she was doing what was best for her child by giving her away. Miriam and Sheriff Bradley tracked down Mary and reunited her with her baby. Not long afterward, Miriam married the sheriff and they adopted Mary. A few years later our son Joshua met and fell in love with both mother and daughter. That is how Mary and Hannah came to us, and we thank Gott daily for that blessing.”

  Willa struggled to keep her expression blank. Her great-aunt and her cousin Mark were both gone. Miriam was all the family Willa had left, and she was married to the sheriff. Willa didn’t dare go to them.

  Willa slowly backed against the buggy door as the conversation continued around her. What did she do now? There was no one left to help her.

  She was truly alone.

  Chapter Ten

  Something was wrong.

  John saw Willa shift to the back of the group as more people heard the news about Ada and gathered around Isaac for information. John worked his way to her side. Her starkly pale face frightened him. “Willa, are you all right?”

  Her hand trembled as she grasped his arm. “Can we go?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I have a headache.”

  It looked like more than a headache to him. Did this have something to do with the death of Ada Kaufman, or was it the baby? The wildness in her eyes worried him.

  “I’m tired, that’s all. I need to lie down,” she said before he could voice his questions.

  He grasped her elbow. “I will take you inside, and you can lie down there.”

  “I’d rather go home unless you wish to visit longer.”

  “Nee, I’m ready to leave.” He opened the back door of the buggy and helped her inside.

  He caught Samuel Bowman by the arm and spoke quietly into his ear. “Willa needs to return home. Can you help me hitch up?”

  His eyes widened in alarm. “Of course. Should I send Rebecca to you?”

  Samuel’s wife, Rebecca, was widely known as a lay nurse. “Nee, Willa wants to go back to the house. She has been ill recently, and I think she is overtired.”

  “I’ll go get your mare.”

  Vera seemed to notice what was going on and came to John. “Is Willa okay?”

  “She says she has a headache and is tired. Will you fetch the girls?”

  She nodded and made shooing motions to the people standing in front of the buggy talking to Isaac. They quickly made way and Samuel soon came trotting up with Clover. He and John made short work of hitching the mare. John climbed into the driver’s seat as Vera reappeared with Megan and Lucy. He held his door open. “Sit up here with me, girls, and I’ll let you drive after a while.”

  “Bless you,” his mother said in relief.

  She got in back and John slapped the reins against Clover’s rump. The mare trotted quickly down the lane.

  John glanced over his shoulder frequently as he drove home. Willa kept her face turned to the window. He couldn’t be sure, but she looked on the verge of tears. He wanted to help, but he had no idea what to do. His mother patted Willa’s hand and spoke softly to her. Willa answered but kept her face turned away. He couldn’t hear what they were saying.

  “Are you feeling better, Willa?” he asked after they had traveled a mile.

  “I’m sorry to ruin everyone’s day.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything,” his mother assured her.

  Megan tugged on his sleeve. “I drive horsey?”

  He had promised the child only to keep her and her sister quiet so they wouldn’t bother Willa, but he didn’t mind showing Megan what to do. Some of his earliest memories were of his father helping him to hold the reins on the way home from church.

  “You will have to sit on my lap so that I can help you and you can see where you are going.”

  “Okay.” He was surprised that she agreed. He lifted her up and settled her against his chest.

  She eagerly reached for the reins and he showed her how to hold the lines properly. “You must keep the right amount of tension on them. Not too firm and not too slack.”

  Her hands weren’t big enough to hold them correctly, but she concentrated on doing exactly as he instructed. When their first turn was coming up, he said, “Check your mirrors. Is there any traffic behind us?”

  She stretched her neck to do so. “Nee.”

  He glanced back at Willa to see if she had heard her daughter use a Deitsh word. She didn’t appear to be paying attention. That was unusual. She was always aware of what her children were doing and saying.

  He helped Megan guide the mare around the corner. When they were straightened out again, Megan beamed a bright smile at him. “I did it, John. I drive goot. Clover es goot gaul. Right?”

  It was the first time Megan had sought his attention or his approval. The tender emotions that flooded his chest pushed a lump into his throat. He swallowed hard before he could speak. “Ja, liebchen, you drive goot.”

  “I wanna do it,” Lucy said, standing up to crawl into his lap with Megan.

  “One at a time,” he said. “Megan, can Lucy have a turn?”

  For a second he thought she would argue, but she relinquished her place without a word. Lucy took the reins and jiggled them. “Giddy up, giddy up.”

  He stopped her from shaking them. “Nee, we are going fast enough. The horse has a long way to go. She will be tired if you make her run.”

  Lucy sat quietly for a while, but she soon lost interest in driving and wanted to sit with her mother. Willa leaned forward to lift her over the seatback. She held her hand out to Megan, but the child shook her head and remained beside John.

  “I hold baby Henry,” Megan said, looking up at him.

  He would have liked to see that. “Did he cry?”

  “Nee. Him goot baby. John like baby?”

  “Sure, I like babies, when they aren’t crying. Did you meet other new children today?”

  Megan was soon telling him all about her friends and the games she had played. He was amazed at how talkative she had become all of a sudden. Was this the same distrustful child who’d called him “bad man” before today?

  “Don’t bother John, Megan,” Willa said in a low, tired voice.

  “She isn’t bothering me,” he assured her quickly.

  Willa fell silent and continued to stare out the window as she held Lucy. When they arrived at the house, Vera took charge of the twins while Willa went inside. John put away the buggy and stabled the horse. When he entered the house a short time later, he found his mother in the kitchen alone.

  “Can you open this for me?” She handed him a pint jar of canned chicken.

  He
twisted the lid enough to loosen it and handed it back. “Where are the girls?”

  “I put them down for a nap. I’m making some chicken and noodle soup for supper. It will perk up Willa in no time.” It was the meal she always fixed when someone in the family was under the weather.

  “And where is Willa?” he asked.

  “She went out the back door just a minute ago. Will you check on her?”

  That was exactly what he needed to do. He opened the door at the rear of the kitchen and looked out. Willa, wrapped in a quilt, sat in the white wooden rocker at the far end of the porch with her head back and her eyes closed. She looked small, sad and vulnerable. A powerful urge to take her in his arms and kiss away her sadness made him realize how much this woman meant to him. He’d never expected to feel this way after losing Katie. He wasn’t even sure his feelings were real. He wanted to believe it was just sympathy for the sad young mother, but he knew it was something more.

  * * *

  Willa rocked back and forth trying to calm her churning thoughts. Her headache had become a throbbing reality.

  Dear God, what do I do? Help me, I beg You.

  “Are you feeling better?” John’s voice startled her.

  She opened her eyes to see him sitting on the porch railing, watching her. The concern on his face tempted her to lie, but she couldn’t. “Not really.”

  “Want to talk about what’s wrong?”

  Looking out over the snow-covered ground, she shook her head. “Not really.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Are you going to make me guess? Because if I had to guess, I’d say that Ada Kaufman was the great-aunt you were on your way to see.”

  Her gaze snapped to his. “How did you know?”

  “You aren’t very good at hiding your feelings.”

  That almost made her laugh. “I’m better than you think I am.”

  Otherwise he would see how much she had come to care for him.

  “Why didn’t you say something to Isaac about being related to Ada? I know Mary and Joshua. They would welcome a long-lost cousin with open arms.”