An Amish Cookie Club Christmas

by Sarah Price

  Reluctantly, Wilma nodded. “And I was invited to a cookie bake.”

  Mary raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Ja, in my cousin’s church district.”

  “Well, that sounds like fun, too. So, you have plenty of things to do that can take your mind off of Rachel and Ella Mae.”

  Now, if only Mary had something that she could focus on in order to stop wondering about Bethany and John Esh.

  Chapter Forty

  The snow began falling around two o’clock, and by the time she’d finished cleaning up after the Englischers, Bethany saw that almost two inches had already accumulated.

  She stared out the window that overlooked the fields to the east of the Esh farm. Everything looked so beautiful blanketed in white. While Bethany didn’t particularly enjoy the cold of winter, she did love a good snowstorm.

  “Enjoying the view?”

  She started at the soft voice beside her ear. He stood so close to her that she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. She continued staring out the window, smiling, even though she knew that he couldn’t see her expression. Outside the window, a red cardinal swooped down and landed on a fence railing.

  “Look at that,” he said, reaching out to point, his arm brushing against hers. “It’s the same color as your dress.”

  He’d noticed! Bethany felt giddy. “It . . . it is, isn’t it?”

  As John withdrew his arm, his hand paused and pressed against her arm. “You wear it better than the cardinal,” he said in a soft voice.

  She smiled to herself, knowing that her cheeks grew pink at the compliment. Uncertain how to respond, she changed the subject. “It’s starting to feel like the Christmas season, isn’t it?”

  Withdrawing his hand, John took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Ja, it sure is. Christmas is a wunderbarr time of year. A time to remember what’s truly important in life.”

  “God’s gift.”

  She sensed that John nodded. “Ja, that’s right, Bethany. God’s gift to the world. His only begotten son. Any other gift pales by comparison, don’t you think?”

  She couldn’t have agreed more. But as she stood there, watching the white flurries drifting downward from the sky, she knew that she didn’t have to answer in words. Seeing the beauty of God’s hand painting the winter scene before her gave Bethany a particularly strong sense of peace.

  John remained standing behind her, close enough that she could feel the energy emanating from his body. The fact that he could stand there in quiet observation without filling the air between them with endless—and meaningless—words made Bethany feel warm and set apart from the rest of the world in a happy, joyous way. The bliss she felt in his presence was a new emotion to her.

  And then, he leaned down and whispered, “I’d best take you home, don’t you think?”

  Shutting her eyes, she felt as if every nerve in her body was on fire. “I reckon that’s a good idea,” she whispered, her heart pounding.

  Suddenly, she realized that he hadn’t mentioned taking her for supper. She hoped that he hadn’t forgotten or, even worse, changed his mind. A wave of panic washed over her. What if he had changed his mind? Or was he simply no longer interested in her? What if he never had been? Was it possible that she had misread him?

  She felt weak as she went to collect her things. She’d never courted anyone and, frankly, hadn’t ever really expected to. And then John had happened along. But Bethany had no idea how to court or what to expect. She had no siblings or close friends who might share their stories with her, guiding her through the unspoken world of courtship.

  John waited for her at the door and, once again, helped her with her shawl. “You might borrow my maem’s jacket if you’d like.”

  She caught her breath. “Oh no! I couldn’t! She might need it herself.”

  He frowned. “Well, let’s make certain you wear a heavier coat next time, ja? It’s gotten too cold out for just a wool shawl.”

  Her mother had always told her that, too. But Bethany preferred the shawl, for it wasn’t as constricting as a jacket. “It keeps me warm enough, I suppose.”

  “Hm.”

  He helped her into the buggy, his hand holding hers as she put her foot on the round step. When she sat down, John still held her hand, his touch lingering seconds longer than it should’ve.

  Bethany didn’t mind, but she couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t said anything about supper. Had she imagined that he had asked her about that last Sunday?

  “You settled?” Only when she nodded did he release his hold on her hand and then slide the door shut.

  Bethany took the quilt that he’d laid on the seat and spread it over her legs. It was warmer in the buggy, but that didn’t mean much, considering it was in the low thirties outside.

  “Oh gut,” he said as he climbed in next to her and noticed she’d already wrapped the blanket around her legs. “You make certain you stay warm under there.”

  “You . . . you want some, too?”

  He seemed to contemplate it, but then he shook his head. “Nee, it’s better for you to use it. I want you to be warm. Besides, I’m okay.”

  He picked up the reins and guided the horse backward before he turned it around and headed out of the driveway.

  The horse trotted along the roadway, its dark mane flowing in rhythm with the beat of its hooves. Still John remained silent as he drove the horse.

  Bethany felt that rising fear again. Perhaps he was sorry he had asked her. Perhaps she had imagined it. Lord only knew how often she had daydreamed about him over the past weeks. Had one of those daydreams been so real that she’d confused it with reality? She wanted to ask him, but she was too nervous to do so.

  Finally, John stopped the horse at an intersection, and rather than continue straight toward her parents’ home, he turned left.

  He must have sensed that she looked at him, for he gave a hint of a smile. “Figured we’d go into town for something to eat, if that’s still okay with you.”

  Bethany released her breath. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding it. “That’s fine,” she said softly. She’d have gone anywhere with John Esh.

  “And . . .” He paused. “Well, I thought that I might pick you up tomorrow. Around six thirty?”

  She tried not to smile. Tomorrow was an off Sunday; there was no worship. If he wanted to pick her up to go into town, then he definitely was calling on her. After all, Sunday evening visits were almost always reserved for courting. “Oh?” she said softly.

  “Unless, of course, you have plans already.”

  “Oh nee,” she gushed. “I . . . I don’t have plans.”

  He gave a little laugh and she wondered if he had been teasing her.

  “Well then, you do now. Just be certain to wear boots.”

  That was a strange request! “Boots?”

  He nodded. “Ja, I have somewhere special to take you, but you need boots.” He glanced at her shawl. “And a warmer coat.”

  “What’s so special about tomorrow?”

  He stared straight ahead. “I was thinking that mayhaps we might go to a singing.”

  Stunned, Bethany could only repeat the word while she collected her thoughts. “A singing?” That was the last thing she wanted to do. She disliked singings. The young women stood on one side of the room and the young men on the other. She wasn’t close enough to any of the other girls to feel comfortable standing in a small group. And then, from what Bethany remembered, they gossiped and talked about the men, especially the ones they liked.

  No, a singing was definitely not something Bethany was interested in attending, but she was afraid to say that. Instead, she swallowed. “If . . . if that’s what you’d like.”

  He laughed. “I’m teasing you, Bethany.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “Teasing me?”

  “Ja, teasing. If you’re anything like me—and I think you are—singings are the last place on earth you’d want to be.”

&
nbsp; This time, she understood what he meant. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. “I’m so glad you feel that way. I’d have hated to disappoint you.”

  Something softened in his expression. “I doubt there’s much about you, Bethany Ropp, that could disappoint me.”

  Clutching her hands, she shifted her eyes to stare out the buggy window. Her breath felt heavy and labored as she realized that she needn’t have any doubts about John Esh and his intentions. It was time to shelve her fears and embrace the fact that God had led them to each other. She felt a mixture of apprehension and excitement at that thought. Was it possible that John Esh felt the exact same way about her as she felt about him?

  Chapter Forty-One

  Edna had been sitting near the propane heater, crocheting a scarf, when she heard the soft shuffling of feet on the staircase. It was Sunday evening and, after a long but leisurely day at home, Edna was almost ready for bed.

  It was John.

  One glance at the clock on the wall and Edna realized that it was too late for any last-minute chores. So he was either coming to sit with his parents for a little bit—something he rarely did at this hour—or he was going out. That, too, was unusual for John, who often preferred a good night’s sleep to leaving the farm after dark.

  “Going somewhere?” she asked.

  He froze. “Oh, uh . . .” He paused as if trying to think of something to say. Clearly, he hadn’t expected to find her sitting there. He must’ve been deep in thought not to have noticed the light coming from the back corner of the room.

  “John, are you going out again tonight?” She frowned. “You didn’t get home until late last night. Surely you’re too tired.”

  In truth, she was the one who was most likely too tired. The previous night, she hadn’t been able to sleep until she heard him come home around nine. He’d left shortly after three thirty to take Bethany home, and then he hadn’t returned. Had that been Jonas or Jeremiah, Edna would have expected it. Those two always went out on the weekends. But it wasn’t like John to just disappear for over five hours. So, she had worried, alone, until his return.

  She’d been surprised that no one else had seemed to notice his absence. After supper, Jonas had borrowed Elmer’s buggy and left the house. Edna wondered if he was courting someone, because he usually went out with his younger brother. But Jeremiah had bundled up and left on foot alone, most likely to go out with friends. And Elmer had fallen asleep in his chair, the Budget newspaper on his lap and his reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

  Only Edna had paid attention to the quiet in the house and the absence of her oldest son.

  Tonight, however, was different. Elmer had already gone upstairs, and both Jonas and Jeremiah had been gone all day. Now, with the sky so dark and the house so quiet, the last thing Edna had expected was to see John walking down the stairs at such an hour.

  And dressed in his nice clothing, too.

  He was definitely going out.

  “I’m not tired,” John said. “And it wasn’t that late. Before nine o’clock, anyway.”

  But that was late for John.

  “It’s just not like you to”—she sought the right words—“disappear like that. I was worried. And now again? Two nights in a row?” Edna paused, wanting to inquire where he’d been, but knowing it was best to respect his privacy. “Will you be out so late again tonight?”

  He glanced at the clock, and Edna did the same. It was almost six. Surely if he was going to fetch Bethany, he would be home even later. At least he didn’t have to work at the auction house the following day. But Edna knew that Elmer still needed his help. The men hadn’t finished cutting up all that wood yet, although they’d managed to bring most of the logs into the barn before the snow fell.

  John merely gave her a blank look, a stoic expression on his face. “Not sure.”

  Sighing, Edna gave up. He was, after all, a man. Besides, if he was, indeed, courting Bethany, Edna knew that, as his mother, she needed to give him the space to do so. After all, John had always been a very private person. And Edna knew that nothing good ever came from a mother getting too involved with her son’s trying to make such an important decision.

  “Well then, just be careful driving, because I’m sure not all of those back roads are cleared yet.” She tried to busy herself with her crocheting, but she couldn’t focus. Her fingers fumbled and she could barely fit the hook through the slip stitch. “I really do worry about you, you know.”

  To her surprise, she heard him cross the room and then, even more surprising, she felt his hand on her shoulder. It was a comforting, if unexpected, gesture. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d done such a thing.

  “I know, Maem,” he said. “But there’s no need for concern.”

  She reached up her hand to cover his and managed to crane her neck enough so that she could peer up at him. His face looked bright, his eyes sparkling in the glow from the propane light. “I’m sure, John,” she said and managed to find a smile to bestow upon him. “I . . . I’m glad you’re going out. Truly.”

  She meant it. However, the realization that her prayers might finally be answered caused her a moment of panic. What would life be like in the haus if John did marry? Where would he live with his bride? Surely not at the farm. Just the thought of John moving away made her realize that sometimes the answer to a prayer gave birth to new worries.

  John smiled back at her. There was a gentle expression on his face, one of understanding and love. “I know that, too, Maem.” And then he withdrew his hand and quietly walked out of the room.

  His words touched her heart, and Edna suspected that they were the closest he would come to admitting the truth. Not surprisingly, being more conservative than his brothers, he chose to court in private. If he didn’t want to share his private life with her, she would respect his wishes.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Mary could hardly believe her eyes. It was past six o’clock, and Bethany was standing near the door.

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  At the sound of her mother’s voice, Bethany jumped. “Maem! I didn’t see you come in the room.”

  Mary shut the bedroom door behind herself and hobbled over to the kitchen table. Resting her hand on the back of a chair, she leaned against it. “You frightened me, Bethany. I thought I heard something out here.”

  “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

  Mary stared at her daughter, who was lingering near the door with her shawl draped over her shoulders. She wondered if John had asked Bethany to ride with him this evening. After dark.

  And that worried her.

  “It’s also a little late for going out, don’t you think?” Mary didn’t particularly like the idea of John taking her daughter out in the evening.

  Bethany pursed her lips. “I . . . I suppose so.”

  “And the roads might be icy.”

  “I saw them spreading salt on the roads earlier.”

  “Hm.” Mary still didn’t feel comfortable with her daughter going out tonight. “Salt melts the ice, but the cold might freeze it again.”

  Bethany took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It wasn’t like her to appear vexed, and that, too, bothered Mary. “Maem, I . . . I’m just going out for a short spell. I hadn’t said anything because I didn’t want to cause you any concern.” A strained smile softened her expression. “Honest, I’ll be fine.”

  The sound of the horse and buggy approaching filled the kitchen. Mary didn’t like this. Not one bit. But she knew that she couldn’t stop her daughter. Bethany was almost twenty and, as an adult, permitted to make her own decisions. Besides, Mary knew that she should be happy her daughter was courting someone, although she was more than a little disappointed in Bethany’s decision to be so secretive, especially with her. She was, after all, Bethany’s mother and, from what she could tell, her best friend.

  Suddenly, it dawned on Mary that, perhaps, her own mother had felt the same way during her courtship with Abra
m. They, too, had been secretive about seeing each other. In fact, her parents hadn’t even known that she was seeing anyone at all, never mind Abram Ropp! When she finally told her parents that the bishop was announcing their wedding at the upcoming church service, they’d actually inquired who was the young man she intended to wed.

  As Bethany slipped outside, Mary stared after her. Her daughter was out with someone, and Mary was certain it was John. While she trusted John, she still worried. Her daughter hadn’t socialized very much and certainly hadn’t spent time in the company of young men.

  And here was John, picking her up after dark on a Sunday night. Where on earth could he be taking her?

  Sighing, Mary shuffled back to the bedroom, knowing that she’d be worried sick until she heard her daughter’s footsteps on the kitchen floor later that evening. It was bound to be another long, sleepless night.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  He stopped the buggy in the cleared-out parking lot of a small park. The snow reflected the moonlight, and the trees almost looked dark blue instead of dark gray. There was no one there, and as luck would have it, no one seemed to have visited the park that day, for the bank of snow was unmarred by footprints.

  Bethany looked around. “What are we doing?”

  “I know you said that you favor summer,” he said, “but I wanted to take you for a walk in the snow. See if I might change your mind about being outside in winter.”

  While she found that possibility highly improbable, she was certainly willing to give it a try. At least, if John asked.

  “Is that why you told me to wear boots?”

  He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged. You’re onto me.”

  She smiled at him. “I should’ve suspected something.”

  Once outside, John tied the horse to the hitching post by the lead he’d attached to a halter placed over its bridle. He patted the horse’s neck and whispered “Be right back” into its large, brown ear.