A Simple Amish Christmas (22 page)

Yet it seemed at every turn, her emotions galloped off toward what might happen, bringing turbulence not peace. She let the conversation flow around her and tried to rein in her worries.

It was a beautiful winter day. It wasn’t nearly as cold with the blankets spread over their laps, sitting in the shelter of Adam’s walls, the heater on, and the sun shining down—though it was definitely the oddest picnic she’d ever been on.

Annie knew the sunny weather wouldn’t last. The clouds would come again—rain and snow would force them to return inside for another two months.

This day shone like a blessed reprieve. It sparkled like a gift.

She was on her first date, and Samuel was being a surprisingly attentive companion—no grumpy bear in sight. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen the ill-tempered side of him in quite some time.

Samuel sitting at her side.

Her family was well and near to her.

And she had found a way to use her medical skills, plus Samuel had offered her a way to participate in the community in an even more meaningful way should she decide to take the apprenticeship.

She hadn’t realized when the call had come into the nurses’ station less than a month ago that she’d be taking the first few steps toward a long journey home, but it would seem she had.

Looking around at Adam, Leah, and Samuel, she couldn’t help thinking that life indeed was a gift, and she had much to be grateful for—friends, family, and health.

What more could a girl want?

22

 

D
ecember twenty-fourth was a Friday.

Normally Christmas Eve was a regular workday, but since the school program was that evening, Rebekah and Charity had arranged to go in at noon and work until six. It would make for one less trip into town.

School wasn’t starting until noon since the students would be staying for the evening, so Reba could ride into town when her
mamm
went to work.

Annie woke to the smell of pies cooking downstairs.

“What do you think
mamm’s
doing?” she mumbled into her pillow.

“Best guess? We’re going to be sent on missions of mercy.” Charity burrowed deeper under her covers.

“With pies?”

“
Ya.
They won’t be cool for another hour. Go back to sleep.”

But Annie was already awake—awake and thinking of yesterday. She’d never go back to sleep.

Samuel had been the perfect gentleman. If anything his attentiveness had flustered her. She wasn’t accustomed to seeing a pleasant and carefree side of him. It was something she
could grow used to—and she didn’t know what to do with that thought.

She was growing to care for Samuel more than she had expected she would, in ways she hadn’t experienced before.

Then there had been the problem of Adam and Leah. Watching those two together had stirred a restlessness in her soul. They had reminded her that most girls her age were married by now, married and expecting children of their own.

The day had been pleasant, exciting, and unsettling all in one.

Slipping into her clothes, she tiptoed out of the room and down the stairs.

“
Dat’s
already outside?” she asked with a yawn.

“You’ll have trouble catching him still now,” her mother admitted with a smile. “He’s learned to move around with that crutch as fast as he did without it.”

“When is his next appointment to see Dr. Stoltzfus?”

“We had scheduled for next Thursday, but you know your father. He wants to be here to help David when the new cattle arrive.”

“So he cancelled?” Annie’s voice squeaked as she reached for a mug and the kettle of hot water.

“Not exactly. He changed it to the following Saturday. Fortunately Dr. Stoltzfus still has Saturday morning hours once a month, and it happens to be next weekend.”

“If not,
Dat
would be in the barn trying to break the cast off with a hacksaw.”

“Probably he would, but at least it proves he’s feeling well.”

“
Ya
, and I’m thankful for that.” Annie sat at the table and studied the pies, which covered nearly every inch. “
Mamm
, are you planning on starting your own bakery?”

Rebekah’s laughter mixed with Reba’s squeal as she chased something through the front room. Annie didn’t want to see exactly what, at least not until she’d had her first cup of tea.

“I did get carried away a bit, didn’t I? Once I started rolling out dough it seemed simpler to keep rolling.” Rebekah sat and studied her work with a smile. “Christmas hits me this way sometimes. I start thinking on how fortunate I am to have all my children here, under my roof…”

“And then?”

“Well, then I think about your
Onkel
Eli.” Rebekah reached out, patted her hand, then stood and began washing dishes.

“
Mamm
, do you expect
Onkel
Eli to eat all of those pies?”

“ ’Course not, but after I made him two, I thought I might as well make one for Samuel. Then I remembered what you said about Mrs. Wagler not eating well.”

Annie reached for a piece of breakfast bread and made herself another cup of tea. “All right, you’ve accounted for four, I suppose. What about the rest?”

“Two I made for us. You don’t think I could make pies and not save some for your
dat
? And the last two…” Rebekah stopped, a look of confusion replacing her smile.

“Hooleys’.” Reba said, sliding into a chair beside Annie. “You said you thought Annie should check on the Hooley family.”

“
Ya
, you’re right.” Rebekah’s eyes narrowed in a look of concern. “I probably should have made a few for the Smucker family too.”

“Mrs. Smucker lives in the opposite direction of the others,” Annie pointed out. “And she can cook just fine. I’m sure she’d enjoy a visit from you without pies.”

“Excellent point. Charity and I will go see Mrs. Smucker, then go on in to work. You can take Reba with you to deliver
pies to the Hooleys and Samuel, then drop her off at the school-house, if you don’t mind.”

“Then I can see the puppies!” Reba tossed her straight dark hair back behind her shoulder. “I’ve asked for one for Christmas, but
Dat
hasn’t said yet. I talked to him again this morning. He reminded me I’d have to care for it and train it.”

Reba lay her head down on the table, traced the wood’s grain with one finger. “I hope Samuel has one available. I hope
Dat
agrees I can have one.”

Annie smiled at her enthusiasm. Had there ever been a time when a dog had made life perfect for her?

“So you’re going with me?” Annie asked.

“Absolutely. Plus you’ll look more official delivering pies if I go along, since I’ve been working an hour after school in the bakery and all.”

“Well, I certainly want to look official.”

“I’ll go wash up then.” Reba launched herself off her chair and headed for the bathroom.

Watching her, some of the weight eased from Annie’s shoulders. Perhaps she took life a tad too seriously. Perhaps it was as simple as delivering pies and training puppies.

“She’s a special one,” Rebekah said, sitting down again at the table.

“I have trouble believing she’s fourteen.”

“In some ways she still acts much younger. I’ve stopped by the bakery a few times, and she’s always proper. You would scarcely recognize her. Once she’s home, though, she turns into the Reba we know—full of energy and still a bit of a child.”

“I envy those things about her, though. I’m not sure a puppy ever solved the problems of the world for me.”

“Well, you were always my serious child, Annie.” Rebekah reached out, ran a hand down her arm. “Want to talk about yesterday?”

“I enjoyed it. Samuel is not at all what I expected.”

“How so?”

“He’s different when he’s away from his work, or maybe I finally had a chance to see another side of him.”

“It seems to me men remain very focused when they’re working. They take what they do seriously, and for an understandable reason—it’s how they provide for their family.”

“We care about our work too.”

“Of course we do, but there’s less intensity involved for us. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“
Ya.
Maybe so. Maybe that’s why
Dat
can’t stay in bed even when he knows he should.”

“Perhaps, and I won’t argue with him about it. He works as hard as he does to provide for me and you and your
bruder
and
schweschders
. I’m sure it’s the same with Samuel.”

“But he has no family.” The words popped out of Annie’s mouth before she could consider how they’d sound, and then she couldn’t pull them back.

“True.” Rebekah turned one of the pies, studied its crust. “He did once, though. I suppose he couldn’t merely stop when he lost them. And maybe he hopes to have a family again someday.”

“Is that what I would be? His second family?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. If you and Samuel were to decide to marry, I’m sure Samuel would love you as he did Mary. He couldn’t love you less. Same as how I don’t love you less than I love Adam or Charity or Reba.”

Annie nodded, then stood and threw her arms around her mother.

“What’s that for?”

“Always being there. Being a
gut
mother. Making excellent pies.” Annie swiped at her tears and laughed lightly. “Pick a reason.”

 

An hour later she and Reba were on their way, six pies safely tucked into a box in the back of the buggy, the old mare safely hitched to the front.

“Would you like me to drive?” Reba asked.

“
Danki
, but I think I need the experience.”

They stopped first at Mrs. Wagler’s home. Rebekah had decided to send three jars of canned vegetables along with the pie.

Annie was relieved to see that the older woman seemed to be moving around easily, with few physical problems. She questioned her in a roundabout way and learned she was following Samuel’s instructions to the letter—her bowel problems had improved considerably.

“You still need to eat these vegetables, Mrs. Wagler.”

“I’ll have my own by spring—the garden always grows fine.” Mrs. Wagler waved a wrinkled hand at her as they climbed back into their buggy.

“Before spring you’ll be back at Samuel’s. Now promise me you’ll eat the vegetables.”

“
Ya
, I’ll eat them. Wouldn’t want to hurt Rebekah’s feelings. Did your mother tell you I once taught her when she was a small girl?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“It’s true. The teacher had to be out due to a terrible cold for a few weeks, and I filled in. Rebekah was around seven at the time, but I still remember her being the smartest in the class. You can tell her I said so.”

“I will, Mrs. Wagler.”

“Little girl, you tell the bakery owner he’s putting too much cinnamon in his apple pies. He’d do better to make them like your
mamm
does.”

“Yes, Mrs. Wagler.” Reba’s eyes were large, but she nodded in agreement as Annie turned the buggy and the mare clip-clopped off.

“I can’t tell Mr. Bender that, Annie.” Reba’s voice bordered on panic. “It would be rude. Besides, our pies from the bakery taste great. We sell out every day.”

“It’s all right. You can tell him Mrs. Wagler requested a light cinnamon pie—old people have different tastes. If he started a new line of pies for older folks, he could increase his sales even more. That way you’re not lying to Mrs. Wagler, but you’re not insulting Mr. Bender’s pies either.”

“Hadn’t thought of that. Great idea.” Reba studied the road as they headed toward Samuel’s.

“I wish I was like you,” she declared. “I’m great with animals, and I’m fair with food—which is why I do okay at the bakery. I don’t manage quite as well with people, though. They befuddle me sometimes.”

Annie nodded as they moved to the side of the road so a car could pass them. “Every one of us has skills, Reba. Be glad you know yours. As far as understanding people—it becomes a little easier as you grow older, but some people are more difficult to understand—”

“I know a few of those at school.”

“And others seem difficult to get along with, no matter how you try.” Annie’s mind drifted back to some of her more difficult patients at Mercy Hospital.

“I used to find Samuel kind of frightening. He didn’t smile much, and he looked kind of sad all the time. He’s changed, though. I like it when he comes to visit now.”

“You do, do you?”

“
Ya.
”

“Doesn’t have anything to do with those border collies?”

“Nope. I’d like him anyway.”

“Hunh. Nice to know—in case they’re all gone.”

Reba squinted up at her anxiously, and Annie felt a little bad for teasing her. Not bad enough to tell her Samuel had reminded her last night there was still one left.

Waiting was half the fun of receiving.

And they were almost to Samuel’s place. She turned down his lane and giddy-upped to the mare.

By the time they pulled up to the house, Samuel stood on the porch steps, smiling at them.

“This is a surprise—two of my favorite people on Christmas Eve morning.”

“
Mamm
sent you pies, and my
dat
is still thinking about whether I can have one of the puppies for Christmas—if you have one left that is. Are there any left? Annie said they might be all gone, and that’s okay if they are, but I sure hope you have at least one still needing a home.” Reba stood below the steps, shuffling from foot to foot, staring up at him hopefully.

Samuel glanced over at Annie and almost broke into a smile, but somehow he resisted.

“Let me see, I did give away a few since Annie was here Saturday, but I think…” He pulled on his beard, scanned out across the clear blue sky, then looked back at Reba with a smile. “Why, yes, I’m sure of it. There’s one little male left, waiting in the back corner of the barn with his mother.”

“The pie’s apple,” Reba said shoving it into his hands, then she was gone—tearing off around the corner of the house to the barn.

“I think she’s a bit
eiferich
.” Samuel motioned toward the house with the pie. “Would you like to come in while I put this up?”

“Oh. Sure.” Annie followed him inside. “I don’t know why she’s so thrilled about a pup. Well, I do know why. She gets this way about animals. It’s not that we haven’t ever had a dog before, because we have. But the last one lived to be so old, and then we weren’t ready to replace him and there was really no need since we had no cattle.”