An Amish Country Christmas (11 page)

“Ewwww,” Martha teased.

“
Jah
, well
you
, brother Nate, take yourself waaay too seriously,” Bram retorted. “It’s like you
were born under a big black cloud and you don’t know how to have any fun.”

Mary raised her eyebrows as she looked up at their driver. “Maybe it takes spending
time with a couple of sisters like us to change all that.”

“I like that answer . . . and your attitude,” Nate replied quietly.

The way he smiled at her made Mary appreciate his depth. If the brothers were to work
closely with each other as they matured, it was good that Bram would have Nate to
balance out his impetuous notions—even though she adored Bram’s spur-of-the-moment
personality. “And what about you, Sister?” she said as she turned toward the backseat.

“Oh,” Martha said in a dramatic tone, “it peeves me to no end that Mary always comes
across as the sweet, obedient little do-gooder. So any time the parents find fault
with something we’ve done, they always figure it’s me who fell short.”

“And they’re right!” Mary teased. “And you still pout and whine about it just like
you did back when Mamma smacked us with her fly swatter, when we were little. You
catch more flies with honey than vinegar, you know.”

“That’s fine, if it’s flies you really want to catch!” Martha replied.

When she stuck out her tongue at Mary, all four of them laughed. It was a welcome,
jolly sound on a morning that could have gone so much differently. “Who’s next with
a question?” she asked. “I’m liking this game a lot!”

“How about this one?” Bram offered. “What did you do as a kid that your family thought
was odd? For me, it was playing games like Sorry or Yahtzee all by myself,” he admitted.
“When Nate went off to school or he was out choring, I would roll the dice or draw
the cards and move two or three markers around the board to keep myself busy.”

Mary blinked. “So there’s just the two of you boys? No other kids in your family to
play with back then?”

“Nope, just us.” Nate smiled as though he had indeed found his little brother an odd
duck at times. “Which probably explains why, even today, Bram thinks he can deal all
the cards and play all the positions without needing anybody else.”

It occurred to Mary then how lucky they were to have Owen, Noah, Joanna, and Jacob
in their family. She had never lacked for someone to play with while she was growing
up—but then, with a twin, she had spent her life with a constant companion since before
she’d been born. Maybe Bram’s independent streak was mostly a cover. Maybe he was
lonelier than he let on . . .

“For Mary and me,” Martha said, “it was the way she and I could communicate without
even saying anything—”

“Or we’d finish each other’s sentences and keep our own little conversation running.”
Mary jumped in. Then she laughed. “Like I did just now, without even thinking about
it.”

Bram and Nate laughed loudly, nodding at each other. “
Jah
, no secret there,” Nate remarked. “But then, that’s the way of it with twins, they
say. Like the two of you are different peas but in the same pod.”

“Always have been,” Mary agreed.

“Always will be.” Martha shrugged. “If you fellows find that peculiar, well—deal with
it!”

Beside her, Nate shook with pent-up laughter. “
Jah
, no doubt in our minds that you girls really don’t
need
us to have a
gut
time, or to get by. Between the two of you, you can pretty much handle whatever comes
along.”

“And we like it that way,” Bram said. “We know plenty of clingy, cry-baby girls out
there tryin’ too hard to latch onto a husband because they can’t do much without somebody
tellin’ them what comes next.”

For a moment, only the jingle of the sleigh bells and Clyde’s steady footfalls filled
the wintry air. This game was bringing out some interesting revelations . . . and
just maybe the Kanagy brothers were deeper into this date than they might admit. Mary
gazed up at Nate, whose expression told of mysteries he wasn’t yet ready to let go
of. “How about you?” Mary asked him. “Any little quirks you care to reveal to us?”

“Oh, the parents always thought it odd that I talked more to the horses and sheep
than I talked to them when I was wee little.” Nate kept his focus on Clyde’s backside,
thinking back. “I had a couple of imaginary friends who lived in the hay loft, you
see, so I went out there a lot to visit with them. Partly to get away from Bram, who
was a holy terror and always got me in trouble.”

Bram laughed. “
Jah
, I was real
gut
at getting Nate in on my tricks and then leaving him to explain how something got
broken, or was done the wrong way. And I was cuter, of course, so Mamm believed me.”

“That’s how I recall it,
jah
,” Nate replied. “Except for the
cute
part. There were some who said that with your curly hair, you were almost too pretty.
Like a girl!”

Mary and her sister laughed. As the sleigh went gliding along the county road, familiar
scenery was coming into view. It wouldn’t be long before they had to figure out how
to park the buggy behind Graber’s Custom Carriages without anyone—especially Noah—discovering
it before they could explain the broken wheel and pay for its repair. “Okay, so what’s
our next question?”

“I’ve got one,” Martha said. “What’s the most un-Amish thing about you?”

The four of them got quiet then, considering their answers. This was a more serious
subject than childhood quirks or sibling dynamics.

“Well, I don’t believe in hell, or in the eternal damnation Bishop Knepp and the preachers
are always throwing up to us in church,” Bram replied quietly. “I believe that God
is more like the father who welcomes the prodigal home, even after the son in that
parable has done a lot of unthinkable things.”

Mary’s heart stilled and then swelled within her. Bram’s statement, made so sincerely
and with a lot of forethought, defied the most basic of Old Order beliefs. She sensed
his reply indicated that he would rather raise his children knowing the love of the
Lord rather than the fear that compelled so many Plain folks to live such tight, stoic
lives. When Mary noticed the expression on Nate’s handsome face, she saw that he,
too, was surprised by his younger brother’s reply. Something in his eyes told Mary
that he sensed how Bram’s statement of faith had touched something deep inside her,
and that he understood why she felt closer to Bram in a lot of ways.

“For me,” Martha ventured, “it’s wanting a houseful of interesting guests instead
of filling my rooms with kids. Mary and I have talked of starting up a B and B someday—I’ve
even been taking small business classes online, on a Mennonite friend’s computer.
But Mamma’s not happy about that. And nobody who’s Old Order Amish would understand
why I want to do more than raise a family.”

Nate’s grip tightened on the reins and he sat up straighter. “You know, our
mamm
was only able to have the two of us boys,” he remarked quietly, “so she’s been tending
her bees and raising her vegetables on every spare inch of our property, to sell the
honey and produce at farmers’ markets. And I think she’s happier that way than she
would have been raising a raft of kids.”

“For sure and for certain,” Bram chimed in. “And what with the economy being so tough
nowadays, Dat’s glad she can help support the family—even if he doesn’t come right
out and say so.”

Isn’t that an interesting thing to know?
Mary tucked her hand in the crook of Nate’s elbow as they came within sight of the
Cedar Creek Mercantile and James Graber’s shop. Nate’s admiration for Martha’s idea
was evident . . . a sign that he was probably better suited to her sister, if their
relationship got that serious. And she sensed it might.

Before they could finish out this round of answers, however, Nate pulled the sleigh
behind the carriage shop. From what Mary could see, nobody was watching them from
the Lambright place across the road, and the Grabers still appeared to be away, as
they had anticipated. While the boys unhitched the buggy from the back of the sleigh,
Martha scurried toward the stable behind James’s house with Taffy. Mary remained in
the seat to write a note on a napkin.

By the time Mary had set the message on the buggy seat and picked up the bin of cookies
on its floor, her sister was returning from the barn.

“I think we did it!” Martha exclaimed as she grabbed their duffels. “I didn’t see
anybody out and about.”

“Most folks are probably finishing their dinner by now,” Nate said as he swung up
into the front seat of his sleigh again. He seemed as tickled about pulling off this
adventure as she and her sister were, so as soon as Bram and Martha had climbed into
the back they were headed down the snow-packed blacktop again. “We could stop by Uncle
Abe’s place,” he teased. “Aunt Beulah Mae would be real glad to feed us, and you know
her leftovers would be
gut
!”

“Keep on rollin’!” Bram crowed. “They’re kin and all, but I’m havin’ waaay too much
fun today to go there!”

Mary smiled to herself, relishing the feel of the crisp winter air on her cheeks.
Just you wait, Bram. The fun you can have with us—with me—will only get better once
you and I are together again.

Chapter Eleven

Bram’s pulse thrummed as they entered the Dutch Country Buffet about half an hour
later. He was hungry, yes, but not just for the wide variety of food being served
up on the steam tables at the rear of the small restaurant: without a word needing
to be exchanged, Mary had taken his hand at the door while Martha had slid into the
booth ahead of Nate, across the table from them.

He knew Mary now . . . could feel the subtle differences between her and her twin
as the girls talked and laughed. Sure, they both had blue eyes and a sprinkling of
freckles and thick, auburn hair but their interests were different. Their views of
the world and where they fit into it came from different angles, too. And as his brother
slipped an arm around Martha and kissed her temple, Bram was convinced that this day
would have a far-reaching effect on their future.

“Get a room!” he teased when Martha returned Nate’s affection.

“Or maybe
we
should.” Mary winked at him, gesturing toward the window. “Seems there’s an old motel
right across the road—”

“Oh, don’t give him any ideas,” Nate warned. “If your parents believe we’re fine,
upstanding young fellows, we don’t want to blow it by—”

As their waitress approached, they nipped this playful topic in the bud. From the
looks of the middle-aged lady dressed in black jeans and a glittery red sweatshirt
with Santa Claus on the front, the Plain owners had taken the holiday off. Or perhaps
the owners were English, using the “Dutch” part of their name to capitalize on how
folks associated Amish and Mennonites with the tastiest homemade food. “Buffet for
me, please,” Bram told her. “And keep the Coke comin’.”

“
Jah
, same here,” the other three said.

As he heaped his plate with crispy fried chicken, pot roast, cheesy potatoes, hot
mixed vegetables, and then put a sampling of the cold salads on a second plate, Bram
felt excited yet amazingly contented. When he and Mary returned to the table first,
he took the opportunity to sneak a kiss. “I’m real glad you picked me, honey-girl,”
he murmured as he drank in her flushed cheeks.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Mary murmured. “I’m happy that both of you fellows
came for us today, and that you’re pairing up the same way we feel it should be. Martha
decided on Nate from the moment she met you two in the mercantile, you know.”

Bram chuckled and dug into his hot food. “Fine by me. You’re the cutest.”

“No,
you
are. Your
mamm
was right all along, whether or not Nate likes it.”

He flashed her a smile, hoping she read his silent message of appreciation . . . of
feelings he wasn’t yet ready to express. But he couldn’t deny that Mary Coblentz was
the most exciting, desirable young woman he’d ever met, either.

Martha slid into the booth ahead of Nate, and for a few moments they all ate as though
they’d gone days without food. Was it his imagination, or did this meal taste especially
good . . . even if it wasn’t nearly as fresh and bountiful as what most Amish families
would be enjoying for Second Christmas? He had no doubt that Mary could prepare a
wonderful dinner . . . hoped he would get to eat one of her meals soon . . .

“You know, maybe we should rethink spending the rest of the day running the roads,”
Martha remarked in a pensive tone. “Is it me, or is this chocolate cake too dry?”

“It’s not nearly as
gut
as the birthday cake we left at home,” Mary agreed. “Mamma’s coconut filling and
pour-over chocolate glaze tastes a lot more special than what we’ve got here.”

Martha gazed at Nate then, thinking. “And maybe we’re missing out on a chance to let
the folks visit with you Kanagy brothers. After all, they really liked you—”

“They were just sour on the way
we
behaved, switching places to fool you,” Mary said.

“—and considering how early it gets dark on these winter days,” Martha went on, “we’ll
soon have to figure out what to do . . . where to stay.”

Nate’s face lit up. “I was wondering what we should do for the night, since I’m not
nearly ready to head for home,” he admitted. “No need to put up that extra bed or
shift things all around again. Fine by me if I sleep on a sofa, or stack blankets
on the floor.”

“We could get rooms at the motel across the street—one for you girls and another for
Nate and me,” Bram quickly clarified.

As one, the twins wrinkled their noses. Martha shook her head. “No matter how you
slice it—”

“Mamma and Dat would see that as the wrong kind of goody to be serving up,” Mary finished.
“And you know, if we took Taffy on home, and told Noah about the rig’s wheel being
repaired, it would save poor James a lot of hassle from him. And with you fellows
there as guests again, he’d not get into such a snit.”

“And our brother Owen wouldn’t quiz you about your intentions. Now that he and Phoebe
Lambright are taking their instructions to join the church,” Martha said with a raised
eyebrow, “he’s gotten a lot more um,
involved
in who we twins spend our time with.”

“Even if it’s really none of his beeswax.” Mary set her fork down on a plate of food
that was only half eaten, and looked from Bram to his brother. “How do you feel about
going home with us again? We don’t want you to think you always have to do things
our way.”

“Even if our way is better,” Martha teased.

“Works for me,” Nate said as he slipped his arm around her. “If you girls want us
to spend the evening with your family, I see that as a real
gut
sign of, um . . . things to come.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Bram grasped Mary’s hand beneath the table. He was feeling
awfully comfortable, even if it was way too soon to be thinking anything they did
at the Coblentz home tonight might affect their futures. After all, they’d only met
these twins two days ago. “If you want to ask your
mamm
and
dat
first—”

“Nope,” Mary insisted.

“They’ll be
gut
with it. And I see it as a way to finish celebrating our birthday,” Martha went on.
“I can tell you that turning eighteen wasn’t much fun after you fellows left us yesterday.”

Bram liked the sound of that. He pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket and brought
up his home phone number on the screen. “I’ll let the folks know what we’re—
jah
, Dat?” he said when his father picked up out in the sheep barn. “Nate and I rescued
the Coblentz girls and towed their buggy to the Graber shop. So now they’ve asked
us to stay over again.”

There was a pause, but then his father chuckled. “Gonna get it right this time? I
could tell things didn’t go well before, but you weren’t sayin’ who was to blame.”

“And it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re all
gut
friends again, havin’ a fine time,” Bram replied as he met the three gazes that were
focused on him. “I’ll give you another ring when we’re on the way home—”

“My word, somebody there must be havin’ quite an effect on ya, if you’ll be keepin’
your
mamm
and me updated, son. That’s a first.”

Bram rolled his eyes. “What can I say? Nate’s got his arm around a feisty redhead,
lookin’ mighty, um—
interested
in her. So I’d best stick around and keep track of him, ain’t so? Bye now.”

He clicked off his phone, shaking his head. Was it indeed a sign of things to come,
that his
dat
sensed he and Nate were more serious about the Coblentz twins than they’d been about
other girls? Their parents hadn’t known Roberta Hershberger very well, but they’d
felt awfully bad for Nate when she’d taken up with a fellow who’d come into a farm
with a big house on it. That was behind them, though. Obviously not meant to be.

“Ready?” Bram fished his wallet from his pocket and tossed a twenty at his brother.
“Seems I’ve just made us a few points at home, so you can cover the rest of this bill,
Nate. I’m guessin’ Dat’s already on his way into the house to tell Mamm about how
you’re finally comin’ out of your cave, leavin’ Roberta behind. So see, girls? You’ve
done us a big favor, askin’ us back to be with your family.”

Mary gave him the sweetest smile. “Not that we’ll spend every moment at home,” she
hinted.

“Not by a long shot!” Martha chimed in. “Jacob and Joanna will get nosy—”

“And Noah will have to get in his licks about the broken wheel.”

“—so after we stick around for supper and more of that birthday cake—”

“—we’ll have to show you around the farm,” Mary continued with a mischievous gleam
in her eye. “And this time Preacher Abe won’t come barging in with his lantern.”

“Now there’s something to look forward to.” Bram took Mary’s hand and slid out of
the booth ahead of her. “And who knows? Maybe if I tell him you girls are making Nate
and me toe the mark now, he won’t let on to the folks that I was ready to jump the
fence.”

As the bell above the café’s door jingled when they left, Bram realized that he had
just mentioned leaving the Old Order in the past tense . . .

But when Mary took his elbow and gazed up at him, that change of attitude felt pretty
good.

 

 

Nate drove in a loop, on snow-packed back roads and county highways, allowing the
fineness of this day to settle in as they made their way back toward Cedar Creek.
While he’d been ready to tromp Bram’s toe under the table, for telling their
dat
that he’d taken such a shine to Martha Coblentz, well—now that Martha sat snuggled
against him, with her blue eyes shining as they toured this winter wonderland, he
knew Bram had been right. After all, hadn’t he chosen a sleigh as his Christmas present
so he could enjoy just such a picture-perfect day with somebody wonderful? And here
it was, his unspoken dream come true.

“What are you thinking?” he whispered. And even though such a question would have
backfired in his face had he asked it of Roberta while they courted, Nate felt easy
in his soul . . . confident that Martha wouldn’t cut him down or make remarks that
seemed hurtful, once he’d thought about them. Until today, he hadn’t realized just
how negative his relationship with Roberta had been. It had been all about
her
.

Martha eased her head from his shoulder to gaze at him. “We didn’t get to finish our
game of True Confessions. Bram and I answered, but not you and Mary—about the most
un-Amish thing about you,” she added as a reminder.

“Ha!” came Mary’s response from the backseat. “You know this about me, Sister, for
sure and for certain,” she began in a playful tone, “but you boys had better listen
up. I don’t cotton to being told what to do—”

“No surprise there,” Bram said with a chuckle.

“—so, where the Scripture talks about wives submitting to their husbands?” she went
on. “Well, I’m going to join the church someday, but that total submission thing is
not
how I see my life going. Especially once Martha and I are running our bed and breakfast.
That’s to be our business, and our men won’t figure into it except when we ask them
to.”

“Like for repair work and heavy lifting we can’t do ourselves,” Martha clarified.

“And I could see the two of you making a real
gut
go at that, too,” Nate said. “Haven’t noticed any signs for B and B’s hereabouts,
so if you get your name out there, and you give your full attention to the little
details of servin’ your guests, your place will be a big hit.”

“
Jah
, you two are naturals at making folks feel welcome,” Bram agreed.

For the next few minutes, Nate was content to keep driving, watching Clyde’s muscled
haunches as the huge horse pulled them effortlessly along. What should he say about
his un-Amish traits? He was already a member of the church in the Willow Ridge district,
so it was pointless to let on that he didn’t fit the mold. Yet he should contribute
to the conversation . . . play along, if only to convince the three younger people
with him that he, too, had expectations and dreams that might go against some stricture
of the Old Order. When he felt Martha silently urging him on, he returned her gaze.

“While I believe that God created the man first, I don’t think it’s His will that
the husband should make all the decisions for his family,” Nate murmured. “Just like
I don’t think He intended for women to take a backseat where education’s concerned.
I admire you for taking those business classes online, Martha.”

He paused, hoping the rest of his thought came out as the compliment he intended it
to be. “It means you won’t be jumping head-first into a bigger project than you can
handle. You’ll be ready to keep the books and follow any government regulations, instead
of assuming
gut
food and clean rooms will make you an overnight success. And that way, inspectors
can’t come in and shut you down for not following the proper procedures.”

Martha’s eyes got so wide that Nate nearly fell into them. “Mary and I haven’t told
many folks about our dream, on account of how we’re afraid they’ll think we sound
too English, or not devoted to raising families. It’s always been a project off in
the future somewhere—probably after we marry—but it’s definitely not something that’ll
go away. We’re only eighteen, but we
want
this inn to happen.”

“Gotta want it,” Bram chimed in from the backseat. “That’s how Nate and I both got
into our businesses so young. We didn’t just hang around waiting for the pieces to
fall into place. We went to school and went after jobs that’ll support us because
we know that farmin’ won’t.”

“
Jah
, Dat noticed that about you boys right off.” Martha settled back against the seat
then, taking in the dazzling late afternoon as they passed evergreen windbreaks dressed
in lacy gowns of snow . . . crossed a one-lane bridge over Cedar Creek, which babbled
happily between crystal-lined shores.