An Amish Holiday Family

by Jo Ann Brown

  He released her. Picking up the wood, he added a few chunks before he walked up the stairs and into the house. He sensed her gaze following every step.

  A gaze filled with bafflement and hurt. If he’d given in to his yearning to kiss her and make her more of a part of his life, her gaze might change to regret. He had enough regrets in his life already. He didn’t need to be burdened with the fact that he’d caused more for her.

  Chapter Eight

  The day had been a mess from the moment Robert woke to discover the furnace in David Riehl’s barn had stopped working. His teeth chattered, and the water in a glass he kept by his bed had a coat of ice. He’d tried to get it started again. It didn’t work. He’d woken David to alert him so the pipes didn’t freeze.

  Helping fix the furnace had made him too late to stop for breakfast, so he’d gone directly to the project house. The volunteers were in an uproar because someone had broken in during the Thanksgiving break. Tools left there as well as small decorative items had vanished. There had been other thefts from the project houses, but this one had also resulted in two windows being broken and their screens warped. It would take at least a couple of days to get those replaced.

  Mutters about who might be responsible and what should be done to keep it from happening again had left a cloud over the cheerful workplace. Inattention led to a series of accidents from paint being dumped onto the new floors to sections of molding being miscut, so the wood was wasted. People who’d worked together for weeks with the skill and precision of a team of horses plowing a field bumped into one another again and again.

  What seemed worst, however, was that Beth Ann didn’t come to work that day. Nobody seemed to know why. Was one of the kinder ill? Was Beth Ann? He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since Thanksgiving, and their last words had been terse and tense. He hadn’t been avoiding her.

  Well, not exactly.

  It’d been easy to use the excuse of being exhausted not to stop by the apartment. Or needing to work to finish walls and floors in exchange for staying in David’s barn. More than once, he’d considered confiding in her that he was making furniture for David’s place as well, using the skills Old Terry had taught him. Working with wood was what he longed to do, whether repairing the covered bridge or creating a table using scraps he found around the farm.

  Robert tried not to think of how much he missed talking with Beth Ann and teasing the kinder. He needed to focus on his work. He held his tongue the first half dozen times someone elbowed him or almost hit him with a length of wood, but when an empty plastic bucket dropped on his head, his temper burst forth.

  “Be careful!” he snapped as he stood, rubbing his skull.

  The woman on the ladder was, he realized when his eyes focused, Vera. “You shouldn’t have been under my feet.”

  “Don’t blame me because you’re careless!” he shouted before he could halt himself.

  Tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  His hateful temper diminished, but it’d already done damage. Frowns were aimed in his direction. Wishing he could take back the serrated words, he hurried to accept Vera’s apology and offer one of his own.

  She accepted it, but said nothing more.

  He hung his aching head and returned to his work. Though a few people asked him if he was okay, most gave him a wide berth.

  The Yoder temper had betrayed him yet again. Lord, help me overcome it. He’d made that prayer many times, and he was waiting for God to step in and help him. Until He did, Robert must be extra cautious. If not, he might turn out like his daed and hurt someone with more than words.

  * * *

  Though Beth Ann and the children arrived a half hour before the ribbon cutting was to take place at the old mill, a crowd had already gathered outside its main entry. She wondered if the locals were more interested in seeing the shops or celebrating that the final victim in Evergreen Corners had been rebuilt and was about to reopen.

  The next-to-last victim.

  She turned to look toward the battered covered bridge a short distance up the brook. In the dying light of the day, its silhouette resembled a skeleton with its ribs and broken bones displayed. She saw a motion near it and recognized Robert’s strong-shouldered stance.

  Was he the only one who couldn’t pretend not to notice the sad sight?

  Yes, he was. Everyone around her chattered about what might be found inside the repaired mill building. They acted as if everything was the way it had been, maybe a bit better.

  Sorrow threatened to smother her. Though Robert had insisted his interest in repairing the bridge had to do with having a job with a paycheck, she knew his yearning to have it fixed went beyond dollars and cents. His face softened when he spoke of working with wood. He could see what the covered bridge once was, and he longed to return it to its former beauty.

  When they first met by the bridge, she hadn’t imagined the stern man could harbor such a gentle and artistic heart. There must be some reason he hid it, and she couldn’t help being curious why.

  Her musings were interrupted as Tommy asked her when the doors would open and Crystal pointed to a glass star in one of the upper windows and Dougie stamped his feet as he grumbled about waiting outside in the cold.

  As Gladys stepped forward to cut the white-and-gold ribbon draped across the doors, Robert came through the crowd to stand beside them. The younger kids greeted him, and Beth Ann had to hush them so the mayor’s words could be heard.

  Gladys realized everyone was cold, so she hastily congratulated those who’d helped rebuild the mill and urged everyone to enjoy the open house. Taking a pair of oversize scissors from her husband, she clipped the ribbon.

  The villagers surged forward, taking Beth Ann, Robert and the children with them. She smiled when she stepped into the welcoming warmth inside the old building. Thick pine boards were polished, but showed wear from hard use through the years. The expanse, which once had been open from one end to the other, was broken up by walls that didn’t reach to the ceiling. Lights hung from gantries to brighten the individual shops and the broad hallway.

  Standing to one side to let the press of people pass, Beth Ann said, “The mayor’s remarks were quick. I’m sure that will earn her extra votes if people remember the cold this evening.”

  Robert’s face lit with a smile, and she was thankful she could ease the grief plaguing him each time he went to the bridge. “Where to first?”

  The wrong question, because each child had a different idea. They decided to visit the shops to their right first and the ones on their left on the way back.

  “Soon all three stories will be open,” Dougie announced. “They’re going to have space to teach art on the second floor.”

  “And on the third?” Beth Ann asked.

  “A multi-porpoise room,” Crystal announced. “Aren’t porpoises dolphins?”

  “Multi-purpose.” She grinned at the girl. “It means the room can be used for lots of different things.”

  “No fishies?” asked Tommy.

  Not wanting to get into the fact that dolphins weren’t fish, Beth Ann gave him another smile. “Not tonight.”

  She’d thought he’d ask another question, but his attention was caught by a shop selling fudge. She was surprised anyone in the hall could see anything. Clumps of people who’d stopped to talk clogged the corridor. She found herself saying, “Excuse me” as she bumped into people and shopping bags.

  Looking at Robert, who’d picked up Tommy before he got stepped on, she said, “Maybe we should come back another time.”

  “I think that’s a gut idea.”

  Suddenly Crystal ran toward a shop with a bright sign outside announcing Your Perfect Princess Fashions.

  “I’ll get her.” Beth Ann didn’t try calling after the girl because she doubted Crystal would hear through the cacophony of excited voices.

&nb
sp; The shop was a girl’s fantasy come to life. Every dress looked as if it had been made from spun dreams in pale pinks, blues and yellows. Crinolines that hadn’t been in style since long before Beth Ann was born plumped the skirts until they stood straight out from the contrasting ribbons around the waists.

  “So pretty,” breathed Crystal without turning. “Have you ever seen anything like them, Lady Bee?”

  She was astounded Crystal knew she’d give chase. Were the kids beginning to feel she was a part of their lives?

  Thank you, God, for this chance to be with them now. I know it is temporary, and I know the pain will be monstrous when I have to tell them goodbye. Please help me be as grateful through the pain as I am at this moment.

  She put her arm around Crystal’s shoulders. “They are fancy, aren’t they?”

  The girl reached out to run her finger along the smocking on one of the dresses. Her happy smile vanished when a woman yanked the dress away from the rack, scowling at Crystal.

  “Don’t touch it!” the woman ordered.

  Crystal’s eyes welled with tears.

  “She was just looking,” Beth Ann said.

  The woman said something under her breath, and Beth Ann shuddered as she heard “light-fingered” and “troublemakers like their mother.”

  Sorrow filled her, wiping away her happiness. Old rumors, whether true or false, about the Henderson family were harder to erase from Evergreen Corners than the scars from the floods.

  “Let’s go, Crystal,” Beth Ann said, taking the girl’s hand as other shoppers stopped to stare. Sympathy blossomed in many eyes, but nobody stepped forward to defend Crystal. Realizing most had no idea what had set the woman off, Beth Ann smiled at them while she took the child into the busy hallway.

  Dougie pushed past other people to get to his upset sister. He glared into the shop until the woman who’d chastised Crystal lowered her eyes.

  Beth Ann looked at Robert, who shared her surprise at the woman’s reaction. Was she embarrassed at her own actions? Would she apologize to Crystal? The woman turned away to speak to a customer, now acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  Squatting in front of Crystal, Beth Ann drew a tissue out of her purse and handed it to the girl, who was sniffling as she struggled not to cry.

  Crystal blew her nose. “Some people aren’t nice.”

  “I’m sorry,” Beth Ann said, smoothing the girl’s wispy bangs.

  Tommy pushed forward and leaned against Beth Ann’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Lady Bee. People say bad things, but they don’t know us. Not the real us.”

  “Who told you that?” Robert asked.

  “Dougie.”

  Beth Ann shifted her gaze to the older boy. He looked away, but she couldn’t mistake the tight line of his lips. How many insults had he or his siblings endured?

  “Some people don’t realize how much words can hurt,” she said.

  “Some people do!” Dougie spat the words, then hurried to apologize. “I’m not mad at you, Lady Bee.”

  “I know you’re not.” She stood and let her gaze travel from one beloved face to the next, from Crystal to Tommy to Dougie. “If someone says something nasty to you, come to me.”

  The younger two agreed, but Dougie said, “I’m not going to let anyone abuse my brother and sister and do nothing.”

  “I’m not talking about doing nothing.” She couldn’t fail to notice how Robert’s shoulders grew taut and his fingers closed into fists.

  Had she said something to distress him? Had Dougie? She replayed the words in her mind, and she guessed at least one had upset him. Though she wanted to ask which, she couldn’t in front of the children.

  Forcing another smile, she tried to keep her voice cheerful as she asked, “How about some Christmas pie?”

  “What’s Christmas pie?” Crystal asked, stuffing the tissue in her pocket.

  “Pie you eat at Christmas,” grumbled her older brother.

  Paying Dougie no mind, because she suspected he wanted to start another argument in order to release the strong emotions swirling inside him, Beth Ann said, “Your brother is right.”

  Dougie pasted on a superior grin.

  It faded when Beth Ann added, “And your brother is wrong.”

  “It’s not Christmas yet,” Crystal argued. “How can we have Christmas pie?”

  “Because it’s the Christmas season. Remember how a candle was lit in church on Sunday to commemorate the beginning of Advent? This is the time of year when we anticipate celebrating the wondrous gift God gave us when He sent His son to be born as a little baby on a special night.”

  Robert matched her smile as they moved out of the mill and toward the bridge and the diner on its far side. “So what’s Christmas pie? Is it a tradition you had in your family?”

  “Yes. We had mincemeat pie during Advent.”

  “Meat in pie?” Crystal’s nose wrinkled. “Ugh!”

  “In this case, the meats are those of fruits, especially apples and raisins.”

  “Why don’t they call it minced apple and raisin pie?” asked the ever-practical Tommy.

  “A good question,” she answered. “I don’t know. Do you, Robert?”

  “The plainest Amish put beef in their mincemeat pie.” He chuckled, and she knew her face had betrayed her. “Does that mean you’ve tried it?”

  “I love mincemeat pie. The kind with fruits and spices. So when I was offered a piece after one birth, I took a big eager bite.” She grimaced again. “It had beef in it. I swallowed it as fast as I could to get the taste out of my mouth. The family thought I loved the pie, so they made sure there was a large piece waiting for me whenever I came to the house for a checkup or birth.”

  As he laughed, the children rushed ahead to stop in the middle of the bridge’s span to stare at the brook that gurgled over the stones. The light from the waning full moon frosted the tips of each tiny wave. Dougie looked over the top of the concrete railing, but Crystal and Tommy peered through the openings at the water below them.

  Robert chuckled beside her. “So let me guess. You ate the old-fashioned mincemeat every time without complaint.”

  “I did.” She laughed. “Well, without complaining out loud.”

  “You don’t ever complain.”

  “Not out loud.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t ever complain. You take care of someone else’s kinder without hesitation, and you’re giving them a home they haven’t had in who knows how long.”

  “Trust me. There was plenty of hesitation on my part.”

  “I do trust you.”

  Her breath caught at the undercurrent of emotion in his simple answer. “I’m glad to hear that. I got a message from their social worker this afternoon. She was supposed to come tomorrow, which is why I stayed home today to make sure everything was as perfect as possible before her visit.”

  “I wondered why you didn’t come to the project house today.”

  “That’s why, but now her visit is going to be the day after tomorrow. She promised me she wouldn’t put off the visit again.”

  “Gut.”

  “Good? What if she decides to take the children and place them in other homes? What if they can’t be together?”

  He paused and faced her. “Why are you looking for trouble? God brought you to the kinder. He knows what lies before them and before you. Trust Him.”

  “I try to.” She gave him a wry grin. “It’s just...just...”

  “They’ve become important to you?”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. The idea of the three youngsters being separated in the foster care system frightened her, because she wasn’t sure what they might do to get back together. Nobody had told her how much longer their mother would be in rehab. When she got out, would she be able to care for her child
ren?

  “Don’t forget,” he murmured, “as important as they are to you, they’re even more important to God.” His smile returned. “How about getting some Christmas pie before we have to fish three kinder out of the brook?”

  With a yelp, she rushed forward to keep Crystal from hoisting Tommy to see over the rail. Robert was right. She needed to enjoy the children while she could. She wished she could forget how he’d reacted with what appeared to be barely suppressed anger in the mill. She needed to find a way to ask him, but some sense she couldn’t name warned her to be cautious in choosing her words.

  Very cautious.

  Chapter Nine

  “Robert, I need to talk to you now.”

  Lowering his hammer, Robert was startled by the tremor in Beth Ann’s voice as she wove among the volunteers to come to where he stood beside the unbroken window in the bedroom. He’d been given the task of putting up the molding around the windows. The other one was covered with plywood, but he’d be able to set the molding in place when he finished with this window.

  “I’m listening,” he said as he positioned another nail.

  She lowered her voice as she came to stand beside him. “We’ve got a problem. A big problem.”

  He didn’t hit the nail as he looked at Beth Ann’s pale face. “Are the kinder okay?” He shoved his hammer into the loop on his belt. Letting the piece of molding slide to the floor, he resisted the urge to put his arm around her.

  Something must be wrong. Really wrong.

  “They’re okay, but...” She took a deep breath. “It’s Dougie. He’s gotten into trouble at school.”

  “What kind of trouble?” He was amazed he had to coax each syllable out of her.

  “A fight.”

  “A fight?” Please, Lord, let it have been a battle of words.

  His prayer came too late because she answered, “A fistfight. He’s not badly hurt. He may have a black eye, but his nose isn’t broken.”

  “The other kind?”