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by Wanda E. Brunstetter


  “Name me one.”

  Barbara held up one finger. “You yodel better than anyone I know.” She lifted a second finger. “And you can tell jokes and funny stories so well that it brings tears to my eyes because I’m laughing so hard.”

  “That may be true, but not everyone appreciates those abilities.”

  “The women who came to my quilting bee awhile back thought you were funny.”

  Faith was about to mention that her mother hadn’t thought she was so funny, when Melinda’s teacher announced that the program was about to begin. It was just as well; Barbara didn’t need to hear Faith’s negative comment.

  A few seconds later, several of the smaller children, including Melinda and Susie, formed a line and sang two Christmas songs. Faith’s mouth dropped open when Melinda started to sway a bit, as though keeping time to the words they were singing. Faith wondered what her parents, who sat a few desks behind, thought of their worldly granddaughter’s behavior. Faith caught Melinda’s attention and shook her head. She was relieved that the child stopped swaying.

  Am I making a mistake leaving Melinda with my folks? Would she be better off on the road with me? Faith gripped the edge of the desk. No, I want a more stable environment for my little girl. As long as Melinda continues to like it here, she’ll stay.

  On Christmas Day, the Stutzmans’ house bustled with activity. The entire family had gathered for dinner, including Faith’s older brothers, James and Philip, along with their wives, Katie and Margaret, and their four children. Since both families lived up by Jamesport, they’d hired a driver to bring them home. Everyone seemed in good spirits, and the vast array of food being set on the table looked delicious. Even though Faith didn’t consider herself much of a baker, she’d made three apple pies using a recipe Noah had given her. She hadn’t tasted them yet, but as far as she could tell, they’d turned out fairly well, and she hoped they were as good as they looked.

  “It’s nice to have you home again,” James said as he took a seat beside Faith at the table.

  “Jah, I agree,” Philip put in.

  Faith forced a smile. If her brothers only knew the truth, they wouldn’t be smiling at her.

  As all heads bowed for silent prayer, Faith found herself thinking about Noah and wondering how his Christmas was going. Noah seemed so content with his life, and he obviously had a close relationship with God. Otherwise, he wouldn’t attach scripture verses to the baked goods he gave away, and he wouldn’t offer to pray for people as she’d heard him do for Hank Osborn when they’d gone there to look at Christmas trees last month.

  “Mama, you can open your eyes now ’cause the prayer’s over,” Melinda said, nudging Faith with her elbow.

  Faith’s eyes snapped open. She’d been so preoccupied thinking about Noah that she hadn’t heard her father clear his throat, the way he always did when his prayer ended.

  “If everything tastes as good as it looks, then I think we’re in for a real treat,” James said, reaching for the bowl of mashed potatoes.

  “Jah.” Papa looked over at Mama and smiled. “My Wilma has outdone herself with this meal.”

  “I wasn’t the only one working in the kitchen,” Mama said with a shake of her head. “Our three oldest daughters worked plenty hard helping me, and Faith made several of the pies, which I’m sure will taste delicious.”

  Faith felt the heat of a blush cascade over her cheeks. She wasn’t used to her mother offering such compliments, at least not directed at her. “After eating this big meal, maybe no one will have room for a taste of my pies,” she mumbled.

  “I’ll eat a hunk of pie no matter how full I am.” Brian grinned at Faith before helping himself to a piece of turkey from the platter being passed around.

  “I believe you will,” Papa said with a snicker, “and I’ll be right behind you.”

  Faith began to relax. It felt good to be with her family for Christmas. She had spent too many lonely holidays before she’d met Greg, and after they were married, he’d never been much fun to be with on Christmas or any other day that should have been special. Greg was more interested in watching some sports event on TV or drinking himself into oblivion than he was spending quality time with Faith. He never complimented Faith on anything—just pointed out all the things she’d done wrong. After Faith left Webster County to return to the stage, maybe she could plan her schedule so she would be free to come home for Christmas and other holidays.

  As they continued to eat their meal, Faith found herself sharing a couple of jokes with her family. “You know, the way food prices are going up,” she said, “soon it will be cheaper to eat the money.”

  Much to Faith’s surprise, all her siblings laughed, and then, after Faith shared a couple more jokes, James’s wife, Katie, jumped in by saying that she’d been on a garlic diet lately.

  “How did that work?” Esther asked. “Did you lose any weight?”

  Katie shook her head. “No, but I sure lost some friends.”

  Faith chuckled. She would have to remember that joke for one of her routines. It was surprising to see the way everyone seemed to enjoy all the corny jokes that had been told. Even Mama and Papa wore smiles. It’s probably not because of anything funny I said, Faith thought regrettably. More than likely, they’re in good spirits because the whole family is together today.

  She glanced around the table at each family member, hoping to memorize their faces and knowing that if her folks didn’t allow her to leave Melinda with them, this could very well be the last Christmas they would all spend together.

  Noah leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. He’d eaten too much turkey, and now he had no room for the pumpkin or apple pies he had made. He slid his chair away from the table. “As soon as I’m done helping with the dishes, I think I’ll go for a buggy ride. Anyone care to join me?”

  “Not me.” Pop leaned back in his chair and yawned noisily. “I’m going to the living room to rest my eyes for a bit.”

  “I’m kind of tired, too,” Mom said. “After we’re done with the dishes, I think I’d better take a nap.”

  “Jah, okay.” Since none of Noah’s brothers had been able to join them for dinner today, it was just him and his folks, so Noah figured he’d either have to go alone or simply take a nap, too. If only he felt comfortable with the idea of going over to see Faith today. But it wouldn’t be right to barge in unannounced, knowing the Stutzmans had company. Besides, Faith might not want to be with him. She hadn’t been all that friendly the last time he’d seen her, and he didn’t want to do anything that might push her further away.

  Noah reached for his jacket and headed out the door, determining once more that unless Faith had a change of heart about her relationship with God, the two of them could never be more than friends.

  A short time later, Noah found himself on the road leading to Osborns’ Christmas Tree Farm, and he directed the horse and buggy up the lane leading to Hank and Sandy’s two-story house. He didn’t see any cars parked out front except for Hank’s, so he figured the Osborns probably didn’t have company.

  Noah tied his horse to the hitching rail near the barn, tromped through the snow, and as he stepped onto the front porch, Amos and Griggs bounded up, wagging their tails. He bent over and gave them both a couple of pats, then lifted his hand to knock, but the door opened before his knuckles connected with the wood.

  “I heard your horse whinny,” Hank said with a grin. “So I figured you’d be knocking on the door anytime.”

  Noah chuckled. “Just came by to say Merry Christmas to you and Sandy.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, as well.” Hank opened the door wider. “Come on in and have a piece of pumpkin pie and a cup of coffee with us.”

  “Are you sure? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

  “No way.” Hank motioned Noah inside, and the dogs slipped in, too.

  “Sandy and I didn’t go see her folks in Florida this year because they went on a cruise for the holidays. And my fo
lks are spending Christmas with my brother in Montana this year, so we’re just having a quiet Christmas alone,” Hank said. His smile stretched from ear to ear, and Noah had to wonder what was going on. The last time he’d seen Hank and Sandy together, they were barely speaking.

  “It’s good to see you, Noah,” Sandy said. “Merry Christmas.” She was grinning pretty good, too.

  “Merry Christmas,” he responded.

  “Drape your coat over a chair and have a seat.” Hank motioned to the recliner across from the sofa where Sandy sat.

  Noah did as Hank suggested, and Hank sat on the sofa next to his wife.

  “Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas this year?” Hank asked, nodding at Noah.

  “I guess so,” Noah said with a shrug. The truth was, what he wanted most was a permanent relationship with Faith, but he figured that was nigh unto impossible.

  The two beagles rested at Noah’s feet, and absently, he bent over and began to rub their ears. “How about you and Sandy? Did you both get lots of presents?”

  Hank draped his arm over Sandy’s shoulder, and she looked at him with such a tender expression that it made Noah squirm. What he wouldn’t give for Faith to look at him in that manner.

  “Are you going to tell him or shall I?” Sandy asked, patting Hank’s knee.

  Hank’s smile widened as he turned to face Noah. “Sandy and I are going to adopt a baby.”

  “Really?”

  Sandy nodded. “We had a long talk about it the other day and found out that there had been a misunderstanding.”

  “Oh?”

  Hank nodded. “Yeah. I thought Sandy didn’t want to adopt, and she thought the same of me, but once we talked it through, we discovered we both wanted the same thing.”

  “That’s great. Really great.” Noah stopped petting the dogs and leaned back in his chair as a vision of Faith flashed into his head. Was it possible that they both wanted the same thing? If he knew that Faith had the least bit of interest in him. . .

  Noah gripped the arms of the chair as he came to his senses. Unless Faith got right with the Lord and joined the church, there was no way he could ever ask her to marry him.

  Chapter 24

  As Faith stood at her bedroom window one evening toward the end of December, she gazed at the carpet of snow below and thought about each family member. Christmas was only a pleasant memory, but Faith knew in the days ahead she would bask in the recollection of the wonderful time she had shared with her family—a family she would soon be telling good-bye. She’d be leaving friends like Noah and Barbara, too. Faith would miss everyone after she was gone—most of all Melinda.

  So much for keeping emotional distance from family and friends. Faith grimaced as her thoughts spiraled further. She thought about the jokes she had shared with the family on Christmas Day and how surprised she’d been when they were well received. No matter how enjoyable the holidays had been, she was sure things would soon go back to the way they had been when she was a teenager. It was only a matter of time before her folks started reprimanding her for being too silly or started prodding her to take classes so she could get baptized and join the church. Worse than that, Faith had done something really stupid—she’d allowed herself to fall in love.

  She gripped the window ledge so hard her fingers turned numb. The time has come for me to leave Webster County, and nothing will stop me this time.

  When Faith awoke the following day, her throat felt scratchy. A pounding headache and achy body let her know she wasn’t well.

  Forcing herself out of bed, she lumbered over to the dresser. The vision that greeted her in the mirror caused her to gasp. Little pink blotches covered her face. She pushed up the sleeves of her flannel nightgown and groaned at the sight. “Oh, no, it just can’t be.”

  “What can’t be?” Grace Ann asked, sticking her head through the open doorway of Faith’s room.

  Faith motioned her sister into the room. “Come look at me. I’m covered with little bumps.”

  Grace Ann’s dark eyes grew huge as she studied Faith. “It looks like you’ve got the chicken pox.”

  Faith turned toward the mirror and stuck out her tongue. It was bright red, and so was the back of her throat. “I thought I had the chicken pox when I was a child.”

  “Maybe not. You’d better check with Mama.”

  “Has anyone we know had the pox lately?”

  Grace Ann nodded. “Philip’s daughter, Sarah Jane, but she seemed well enough to travel so they brought her here for Christmas anyway.” She shrugged. “Probably thought she was no longer contagious or that we’d all had them.”

  Faith slipped into her robe. “Guess I’d better go downstairs and have a talk with Mama.”

  “Want me to send her up? You look kind of peaked, so you might want to crawl back in bed.”

  The idea of going back to bed did sound appealing, but Faith had never given into sickness before. All during her marriage to Greg, she’d performed even when she thought she might be coming down with a cold or the flu. She really had to be sick before she took to her bed.

  A short time later, with a determined spirit, Faith made her way down the stairs. She found Mama, Grace Ann, and Esther in the kitchen getting breakfast started. The pungent odor of Mama’s strong coffee made Faith’s stomach lurch, and she dropped into a seat at the table with a moan.

  “Faith, do you want to make the toast this morning, or would you rather be in charge of squeezing oranges for juice?” Mama asked, apparently unaware of Faith’s condition.

  Faith could only groan in response.

  “She isn’t feeling well this morning, Mama,” Grace Ann said as she stepped in front of Faith and laid a hand on her forehead. “She’s got herself a fever, and from the looks of her arms and face, I’d say she’s contracted a nasty case of chicken pox.”

  “Chicken pox?” Esther and Mama said in unison.

  Mama hurried over to the table. “Let me have a look-see.”

  Faith lifted her face for her mother’s inspection, and Mama’s grimace told her all she needed to know. She had come down with the pox, and that meant she wouldn’t be going anywhere for the next couple of weeks. Faith had to wonder if someone was trying to tell her something. If so, would she be willing to listen?

  “Didn’t I have the pox when I was a girl?”

  “You were the only one of my kinner who didn’t get it,” Mama said. “I figured you must be immune to the disease.”

  Faith dropped her head to the table. “I can’t believe this is happening to me now.”

  “What do you mean ‘now’?” Grace Ann asked.

  “Well, I had planned to. . .” Faith’s voice trailed off. She was sick and wouldn’t be going anywhere until her health returned, so there was no point revealing her plans just yet.

  “Whatever plans you’ve made, they’ll have to wait. You’d best get on back to bed,” Mama instructed.

  “Okay. Could someone please bring me a cup of tea?”

  “One of your sisters will be right up,” Mama called as Faith exited the room.

  A short time later, Faith was snuggled beneath her covers with a cup of mint tea in her hands. If she weren’t feeling so sick, it might have been nice to be pampered like this. Under the circumstances, though, Faith would sooner be outside chopping wood than stuck here in bed.

  Faith spent the next several days in her room with one of her sisters or Mama waiting on her hand and foot. To Faith’s amazement, Melinda didn’t get sick. Maybe she was immune to the chicken pox, or maybe she would get them later. Either way, Faith was glad her precious child didn’t have to suffer with the intense itching she’d been going through. It was enough to make her downright irritable.

  One morning after the girls had left for school, Faith made her way down to the kitchen. She felt better today and decided it might do her some good to be up awhile. She found her mother sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and an open Bible. Mama looked up when Faith took the seat
across from her. “You’re up. Does that mean you’re feeling better?”

  “Some, although I have to keep reminding myself not to scratch the pockmarks.” Faith helped herself to the pot of tea sitting in the center of the table. Several clean cups were stacked beside it, so she poured some tea into one and took a sip.

  “Sure was a good Christmas we had this year, don’t you think?” Mama asked.

  Faith nodded. “It was a lot of fun.”

  “First time in years the whole family has been together.”

  Faith’s breath caught in her throat. Was Mama going to give her a lecture about how she’d run away from home ten years ago and left a hole in the family? Was the pleasant camaraderie they’d shared here of late about to be shattered?

  “You’re awful quiet,” Mama commented.

  “Just thinking is all.”

  “About family?”

  Instinctively Faith grasped the fingers on her right hand and popped two knuckles at the same time.

  “Wish you wouldn’t do that.” Mama slowly shook her head. “It’s a bad habit, and—”

  Faith held up her hands. “I’m not a little girl anymore, and as you can see, my knuckles aren’t big because I’ve popped them for so many years.” As soon as Faith saw her mother’s downcast eyes and wrinkled forehead, she wished she could take back her biting words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so testy.”

  Mama reached across the table and touched Faith’s hand. “I did get after you a lot when you were a kinner, didn’t I?”

  Faith could only nod, for tears clogged her throat. She opened her mouth to tell Mama of her plans to leave again, but she stopped herself in time. Now was not the time to be telling her plans. She would wait until she was feeling better.

  Faith took another sip of tea. “This sure hits the spot.”

  “Always did enjoy a good cup of tea on a cold winter morning.” Mama touched her Bible. “Tea warms the stomach, but God’s Word warms the soul.”

  Not knowing how to respond, Faith only nodded.

 

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