Her Amish Holiday Suitor (Amish Country Courtships Book 5)

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Her Amish Holiday Suitor (Amish Country Courtships Book 5) Page 5

by Carrie Lighte


  This time he assisted her into the buggy more gingerly than he had the first time, and instead of handing her the wool blanket he kept in the buggy, he spread it across her lap and tucked it beneath her feet with care.

  * * *

  Lucy had the sensation she was floating. She tried to convince herself it was because she’d made so much progress on her stitching, but that wasn’t the only reason. The truth was, she liked the idea of being courted, even if it was a false courtship. The experience of being outdoors at night beneath the stars was romantic in itself, and no man except her father had ever assisted her into and out of a buggy. She’d been missing out. If the attentiveness of a young man who wasn’t even a real suitor made her feel this blissful, how might she feel if the man truly liked her? Maybe when her stint with Nick was completed, she should accept Frederick as a suitor after all. She still couldn’t really picture it, but then she never imagined a buggy ride with Nick Burkholder could be so pleasant, either.

  “You’re home late,” Mildred commented. She and Katura were lounging across their beds, but they hadn’t yet turned off the lamp when Lucy entered the bedroom. “Where did you and Nick go?”

  “Oh, we went...out,” Lucy replied vaguely.

  Katura tossed her long, loose hair over her shoulder, clearly pretending to be indifferent. “Could you turn down the lamp, please?” she asked. “Some of us have to go to work in the morning.”

  It was a barb that ordinarily would have gotten Lucy’s goat. She worked just as hard as her stepsisters did to contribute to their family’s expenses, and she dared say she worked harder on keeping house. Furthermore, since Betty regularly visited her sister in Elmsville, most of the meal preparation fell to Lucy, too. But tonight she shrugged off the comment and dimmed the light as requested.

  The room was quiet and by the time she eased into her bed, Lucy thought her stepsisters had fallen asleep. But then Mildred urgently hissed, “Spill the beans already, Lucy. What did you and Nick do tonight?”

  A delicious vibration fluttered down Lucy’s spine as she said, “We went for a ride and we talked.”

  Katura snorted, belying her earlier indifference. “That doesn’t sound like very much schpass. Or very romantic.”

  “We also looked at the scars in the sty,” Lucy bashfully confided.

  “The scars in the sty? Don’t you mean the stars in the sky?” Katura shrieked. She and Mildred laughed uproariously and Lucy’s face felt scalding hot. She couldn’t account for the slip of her tongue, but now her stepsisters were going to think she was so smitten with Nick she couldn’t speak straight. “I must be overly tired,” she said by way of excuse, and quickly joined in with their laughter so they wouldn’t know how abashed she was by her mistake.

  After they quieted down, Mildred pried, “Did it seem like he wants to take you out again sometime?”

  “Jah. We’re getting together on Thursday night.”

  “That soon?” Katura sounded surprised. Then she added nonchalantly, “I suppose that’s all right, as long as he’s able to attend our caroling rehearsal on Friday night. We’re going out for pizza afterward.”

  It irritated Lucy that Katura acted as if she were granting permission for Nick to court her, but she didn’t want to say anything in her defense, lest she trip over her words again. So Lucy simply bade her stepsisters good-night and pulled her quilt up to her chin.

  She slept so soundly she realized upon waking she had missed another opportunity to prepare her father breakfast. And by the time Lucy was dressed, Katura and Mildred had already left for work, too. It must have been all that fresh air the night before—she never slept this late. Now she was going to have to hurry to make up for lost time. She had to complete a Christmas tree skirt she was custom designing for a customer from Schrock’s by this afternoon so she could drop it off at the shop on the way to the soup kitchen that evening.

  In the kitchen she discovered a note from Betty indicating she’d be spending the day with her indisposed sister again. She requested that Lucy prepare supper and instructed Mildred and Katura to sweep the floors and beat the rugs when they returned home. Lucy tried not to think ungracious thoughts, but preparing supper took longer than beating the rugs and sweeping the floors, especially since those tasks would be shared between the two sisters. Lucy didn’t usually mind doing housework—in fact, she preferred the house being neater and more organized than the others did—but today she desperately needed time to work on the tree skirt.

  Once she’d chopped vegetables and cubed the meat for stew, she put them in a pot to simmer throughout the day. Then she began making bread. In between kneading the dough, punching it down and allowing it to rise again, she embroidered the final touches on the tree skirt. With its array of pine trees and cardinals, church bells and candy canes, the design was exactly what the customer wanted, although it was too flashy for Lucy’s taste. She preferred the simplicity of white-on-white snowflakes or perhaps the accent of a sprig of holly here and there.

  Like their linens and curtains, the Amish tended to keep their house decorations simple, too, but Lucy relished the Christmas holiday season when she could place candles on the windowsills and arrange evergreen boughs on the mantel. It didn’t take much to make their home feel festive and Lucy couldn’t wait to begin adorning it on Saturday. Perhaps this year Katura and Mildred would help her. I’ll probably have to bribe them with cocoa and cookies though. Immediately she regretted her sour thought and she asked God to forgive her attitude.

  Mildred once asked Lucy if she got bored “sitting around embroidering all day,” but Lucy seldom did. Not only did she enjoy creating freehand designs, but she also used the time to pray. For example, as she worked on the Christmas tree skirt, she prayed that the family who ordered it would have a healthy, joyful, Christ-centered time of worship together.

  Then her mind drifted to Nick. Reflecting on his willingness to help repair the cabin for Christmas, she realized she wouldn’t have guessed he’d demonstrate such a selfless devotion to his Englisch friend. Thinking of him, she was tickled by a chill, and she rose to stoke the stove and check on the stew.

  By the time her stepmother and sisters came home, it was four o’clock. Her father returned at four thirty. He knew how important it was for Lucy to work at the soup kitchen, so he always made a point to return home by four thirty on Wednesdays, even if it meant he had to walk whenever his Englisch coworker was putting in overtime and couldn’t give him a lift home. This was one of those days.

  “Denki for walking home, Daed,” she told him after she’d dropped the skirt off at Schrock’s and they were on their way to the soup kitchen. She was perfectly capable of handling the buggy herself, but he insisted, so she let him. It was another cherished occasion when she could spend time with him alone.

  “What you do at the soup kitchen is important,” he said. “Just don’t let yourself get too run-down. Now that you’re...you’re socializing more, you might not have as much energy as you usually do.”

  Lucy caught her father’s profile in her peripheral vision. Although he used the term “socializing” instead of “courting,” she felt guilty. Grinning broadly, he appeared so pleased. “I’m not actually...” she began, but then she realized she couldn’t back out of her agreement with Nick. It meant so much to him—and to the Nelsons. “I’m not going to get too run-down, Daed.”

  “Gut. Because you deserve to enjoy yourself. And any young man—er, any young person who keeps company with such a smart, engaging maedel like you is very fortunate.”

  Lucy was touched by how careful her father was to avoid using Nick’s name, as well as by his endearing sentiments. She knew few men in Willow Creek besides her father would consider her to be engaging, but she appreciated his opinion all the same.

  At the church where the soup kitchen was located, Dan Ebersole was retrieving folding chairs from the closet near the back door where L
ucy entered the building. Having recently moved from an Amish settlement in Ohio to nearby Elmsville and being reserved by nature, Dan didn’t have many friends, but he and Lucy had struck it off well together. “Your face is... It’s kind of glowing,” he faltered. “I mean, you look really happy tonight.”

  “I am really happy,” she said. “It must be because Grischtdaag is my favorite holiday and it’s getting closer.” But as much as she loved Christmas, Lucy had never felt quite this cheerful about the holiday before. No, this kind of joy came from somewhere else.

  * * *

  On Thursday evening before starting off for Lucy’s house, Nick asked his mother for another wool blanket to stow in his buggy.

  “Is there a snowstorm on the horizon?” she asked with a lilt in her voice.

  “Neh, I want it in case Lucy gets cold,” he answered before he realized his mother was teasing him. His ears blazing, he hurried from the house.

  As he directed Penny across town, he reasoned it was only common sense to bring an extra blanket for Lucy. She was so thin the wind probably went right through her, and he didn’t want her to complain. Then he began to worry that Lucy, like his mother, might interpret the gesture as something other than his being considerate; she might interpret it as a sign of affection. He couldn’t have that. This was a phony, short-term courtship, nothing more. So after Lucy was seated in the buggy, Nick handed her the spare folded blanket instead of arranging it for her as he’d done on Tuesday evening.

  “The library again?” he asked tersely.

  “Jah, please,” she replied.

  A long silence followed until he grew restless and finally thought to inquire about her project. Her voice was animated as she described the soup kitchen and how the organization needed to raise at least one thousand dollars in order to repair their commercial-sized oven and cover other expenses associated with their service.

  “Lately the soup kitchen should be called a sandwich and cookie kitchen, since we aren’t able to serve hot meals.” Lucy sighed. “I feel so bad because this is the time of year when people need something to warm their bellies more than ever.”

  Nick had had no idea her embroidering project was for the soup kitchen’s benefit; he had assumed she was making it to sell for a profit. At best, he’d imagined she’d use the proceeds to buy Christmas presents for her family, but he hadn’t considered she was working this hard to give the money away to charity. “That’s really generous of you, donating your time and skills to the soup kitchen like that,” he said.

  She dipped her head modestly. “It’s no more generous than what you’re doing—using your skills to help someone else have a merry Grischtdaag.”

  Nick felt a pinch of guilt. There was a world of difference between what he was doing and what she was doing, even if she wasn’t aware of it. “It’s not a big deal,” he said.

  “Oh, but it is.” She twisted toward him. “I’ve heard how much you like to socialize, and at this time of year there are so many parties and events going on that you’re forfeiting just to help your friend’s family—Englischers at that.”

  So she was also aware of how much he liked to socialize. Was Nick’s brother right about his reputation preceding him? Or did she get that idea from someone else, like her cousin Bridget, whom he had once courted? Nick wondered what else Lucy had heard about him—specifically, about his courtships.

  “Speaking of parties,” he said. “As you probably know, there’s a get-together on Friday night after the caroling rehearsal. I planned to work on the cabin, but if you’re going to the party, then...”

  Lucy picked up his sentence where he left off. “Then we’d have to go together?”

  “Neh!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t mean that. I meant if you’re going to the party then I can’t tell people I’m with you on Friday night because obviously they’ll see you alone at the party.”

  “Oh, right. Of course,” Lucy said. Nick couldn’t read her tone for certain, but he got the sense he had offended her.

  “Unless you wanted to go to the party,” he offered guiltily. “I mean, if that’s the case I should probably go with you. For the sake of appearances.”

  Lucy sat up straighter and shook her head. “Neh, definitely not. I mean, I don’t want to go to the party with or without you, so it’s fine if you work on the cabin. You can pick me up at the usual time.”

  “But isn’t the library closed on Friday evening?”

  “Jah, but there’s a little bookstore café that’s open until nine thirty or ten down the street from the library. I could do my embroidery there.”

  “You really wouldn’t mind?” Nick couldn’t believe how flexible she was being. Was she doing that just for him? He felt torn between wishing she was and hoping she wasn’t.

  “I’d consider it a favor,” she said. “Otherwise, Betty will insist I go to the party and that will set me back on my embroidery.”

  Oh, so that was why. Nick should have known. “Denki, that would be great,” he replied. But if the idea was so agreeable to him, why did he feel so let down?

  Chapter Four

  After working on her project three evenings during the week, as well as on Saturday evening after she’d decorated their home for Christmas, Lucy began to relax a little about her deadline. It was only the fourth of December; she had until the twenty-first to finish. By the Sabbath, she was almost relieved to take a break. It was an “off Sunday,” which meant instead of gathering for church, the Amish families in Willow Creek held worship services in their individual homes. Afterward, the family enjoyed a light dinner of cheese sandwiches and chicken soup, and then everyone either read or napped. Except for Lucy—she pulled out a pen and paper to write to her cousin.

  Dear Bridget,

  It’s less than three more weeks until you visit and I can’t wait to see you again! Be sure to bring your ice skates—the weather here is unseasonably cold and if it keeps up, we’ll be able to skate on Wheeler’s Pond.

  Although Lucy often got winded when she exerted herself in the cold weather, she and Bridget both loved to skate. Lucy had better balance but Bridget was faster, so they helped each other navigate the homemade outdoor rink at the local pond, which was often crowded with both Englisch and Amish skaters and ice hockey players. It was rare for the pond to freeze over at Christmastime; usually they had to wait until January or February, so Lucy was delighted to think she and Bridget might be able to go skating the way they used to before her cousin moved away.

  Chewing on the end of her pen, Lucy pondered whether she should tell Bridget about her arrangement with Nick, and if so, what she should say. What had begun as an opportunity to complete her project had turned into... Well, Lucy wasn’t sure what it had turned into, but she wasn’t as eager to share the details of the arrangement with Bridget as she was when she thought they’d share a good laugh over the irony of it.

  Am I worried what she’d say if I told her Nick is nothing like I thought he was? Lucy wondered. Truthfully, she had to admit that was part of her hesitation. Lucy knew Bridget had experienced Nick’s duplicitous behavior firsthand and, out of protectiveness toward her cousin, Bridget would warn Lucy about his cunning ways. But Lucy didn’t need a warning because she wasn’t going to become involved in a romantic relationship with Nick. She was simply enjoying his company more than she expected she would.

  Which was a good thing, considering Nick told her his project was going to take longer than expected—perhaps more than two weeks. It had something to do with the drywall or plasterboard behind the paneling, as she vaguely recalled. In any case, Lucy would probably finish the tablecloth and napkins before he finished the walls. If that happened, she’d put an end to their arrangement... Wouldn’t she?

  “Lucy!” Katura startled her. “Didn’t you hear me?”

  “She was daydreaming about N-i-c-k,” Mildred teased, just like a schoolgirl.

&
nbsp; Lucy hadn’t heard them enter the room. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about Bridget. What did you say?” she asked.

  “We’ve planned a caroling rehearsal for tonight at Melinda and Jesse Schrock’s haus. I know you’re not participating in the caroling, but we’re only going to practice for half an hour and then we’re going to break for games and snacks. Do you want to kumme?”

  Even though Melinda and Jesse were already married, the couple frequently hosted groups of young single adults at their home and Melinda was nicknamed “Melinda Matchmaker,” a title she reveled in.

  “Denki, but I’ve been out a lot this week.”

  “There’s no need to boast. A simple neh would suffice,” Mildred said, rolling her eyes.

  “I only meant I’m tired. I want to catch up on my letter writing.”

  Katura sat down across the table from Lucy and leaned forward. “Did you and Nick have an argument?” she whispered.

  “Neh. I’m just tired and I don’t want to go out. I want to go to bed early this evening.”

  Before she finished speaking, Lucy’s father walked into the room. “Then that’s exactly what you should do,” he said, donning his coat before going to milk the cows for the evening. “It’s too cold outside for Lucy. But if you want to go out tonight, Mildred and Katura, I’ll hitch the buggy for you.”

  While Lucy appreciated her father’s concern, as well as his attempt to thwart her stepsisters’ badgering, she didn’t want his overprotectiveness about her health today to interfere with her plans to go out with Nick later in the week since the temperatures were forecasted to drop even further. Plus—she hated to admit it to herself—it occurred to her belatedly Nick might be at the rehearsal, too.

  “It’s not that cold, Daed,” she said, changing her mind about attending the singing. “Actually, now that I think of it, I’ve been cooped up inside all day and I’d like to go.”

 

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