Christmas at Promise Lodge (22 page)

“I'm sure Mary Kate and the bishop—and the whole family—will be blessed by your presence,” Amos said with a nod. “Start up a song and I'll join in with you. I love Christmas carols!”

The kids looked at each other for a moment, and then Lavern began singing in a clear voice. “‘God rest ye merry, gentlemen—'”

“‘Let nothing you dismay,'” everyone else joined in. Amos sang along, thinking the words of this old carol were good advice: it was best to listen for tidings of comfort and joy, to appreciate the blessings of God rather than allowing earthly toils and tribulations to take their toll. By the time he and Roman and their guests had also sung a verse of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” Amos felt happier than he had in weeks.

As he said goodnight to his visitors, Amos wore a big smile even though Mattie didn't linger behind the others to speak with him. He vowed to find a way to make her smile again, to make her believe in him the way she had for so many years of their lives.

“I'm going to join those folks at the Lehman place,” Roman said as he came from the mudroom with his coat. “It'll be fun to sing some carols and see how the baby's doing.”

“Not to mention Mary Kate,” Amos added with a chuckle. “Give the bishop and his family my best. And kiss baby David for me. One of these days I intend to meet the little fellow in person, but for now you can be my messenger, Roman.”

When Roman nodded and closed the door behind him, Amos let out a contented sigh. He lifted the edge of the plastic wrap and took an angel cookie from the plate on his lap. She was frosted in white and liberally sprinkled with crunchy white sugar crystals, and she had blue eyes, a pink O for a mouth, and a yellow halo. As Amos bit into the moist, chewy cookie, he gave thanks for the small pleasures of the season and for the joy the children of Promise Lodge wore on their pink-cheeked faces.

Amos wheeled over to the sofa and unfastened the ties of the white plastic bag. When he emptied it, his mouth fell open. An afghan of multicolored squares rolled out, big enough to cover the sofa.

Big enough to cuddle under
, he thought as Mattie's face came to mind.

What other incentive did he need? Amos rolled his wheelchair to the back of the sofa, placed his hands on it for support, and stood up. He would walk again—he
would
. He would once again become the active, purposeful man Mattie Schwartz deserved, and—Lord willing—his love and devotion would become the most wonderful gifts she had ever received for Christmas.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Mary Kate stood in the front room with her son on her shoulder, swaying gently in time to the music as the carolers sang “Away in a Manger.” Except for Minerva and Roman, these folks were the first visitors she'd had since David was born three days ago, and their smiles and songs lifted her spirits. The young boys who were usually running around and teasing each other looked almost angelic as they sang with their sisters, Laura, Phoebe, and Roman's
mamm
and aunts.

Roman seems to be enjoying this outing a lot
, Mary Kate thought as she heard his steady baritone blending with the other voices. She wanted to believe that his eyes held a special shine tonight because he was here with her—although Gloria, who sat on the opposite end of the couch from Dat, was also gazing steadily at Roman as he sang.

Mary Kate closed her eyes, focusing on the tiny beat of David's heart against her chest. He was flapping his little arms as though the music excited him, and she gave thanks that her son was healthy and whole. His presence was such a blessing now that Dat seemed to be fading before their eyes.

The carol ended and Mary Kate smiled at their guests. “It's so
gut
to see you all,” she said, “and what a pretty plate of cookies you made for us!”

As Lowell and the Peterscheim boys pointed to the various cookies they had decorated, Mary Kate noticed Lily, Fannie, and the Hershberger sisters exchanging secretive glances.

Laura slipped out the front door and came in again with a large white basket tied in pale blue ribbons. “For you and David,” she said as she handed the basket to Mary Kate. “We've started a crochet club, and we wanted you to have a few things.”

“And we could hold the baby while you look at what's in the basket,” Phoebe hinted.

Mary Kate's mouth fell open. She handed her son to Phoebe, tickled when all the girls and women gathered around to coo at him—but she was even more delighted as she picked up pairs of tiny pastel booties, little caps, and silky-soft crocheted blankets. “Ohhh,” she murmured as she held up each item to admire it. “And look at these toys! How adorable!”

Mamm came to stand beside her, her face alight. “What wonderful gifts,” she said as she picked up a white crocheted lamb and a bright yellow duck. “You ladies have been busy with your hooks! It's been a long while since I crocheted, but seeing these baby things makes me want to start again.”

“You could join our crochet club,” Christine said as she took her turn holding David. “We started it as a pajama party for these cold winter nights, but you wouldn't have to wear your nightie if you came over. We'd love to have you, Frances—and Gloria and Mary Kate, too, if you want to come.”

“We have a great time,” Laura said. She glanced at the bishop, who seemed to be dozing with his head lolled back against the sofa. “We're nearly finished with an afghan for Bishop Floyd, too,” she whispered. “We'll bring it over as soon as the squares are joined together.”

“What a lovely gesture,” Mary Kate's
mamm
said wistfully. “Floyd will probably appreciate a warm afghan more than anything else we can give him.”

The front room got quiet for a moment, until David let out a squawk of apparent delight. When Mary Kate looked up, she saw that Roman was holding the baby, making funny faces at him as he tickled David's nose with the crocheted duck. She suspected little David was too young to realize Roman was having fun with him, yet the sight of her son seeming to return Roman's gaze, gurgling and wiggling, touched Mary Kate deep inside. In her heart of hearts, she hoped that this would be the first of many times she could watch Roman and her son playing together . . .

After the carolers sang a rollicking rendition of “Angels We Have Heard on High,” Mattie went out to the porch and came back with a fresh greenery wreath. “We want you folks to have this, and we wish you the peace of the season,” she said. “Let us know what else we can do to help.”

Mary Kate thought her mother might cry. “We'll put this above the fireplace, where we'll all enjoy it,” Mamm said in a tight voice. “What a lovely gift—and it smells so fresh and pretty. Roman, if you could hang it for us—tall as you are—”

“I'd be happy to,” Roman said. He showed no inclination to let go of David as the women and girls said their good-byes with another round of smiles for the baby. When the visitors had gone back out into the cold, Roman smiled at Mary Kate. “Any idea where I can find a hammer and a nail—or whatever sort of hanger you want me to use?”

“I know where they are!” Gloria said. As she hurried out of the front room, the baby began to fuss.

“Let me take him upstairs,” Mary Kate suggested as she reached for her son. “It won't take all that long to feed him, if—if you'd like to stay for a while,” she added shyly.

“I will,” Roman replied. He smiled at her and nodded toward the basket. “I might have to play with his new toys—unless you're taking them upstairs, too.”

Mary Kate felt a giggle bubbling up from deep inside her. “I want to look everything over, too. We can play with them together and check out those little caps and booties. I'll just take a blanket for now.”

As she headed upstairs with David, Mary Kate gently stroked her son's cheek with the pale yellow blanket she'd grabbed. She was still in awe of the basketful of handmade gifts—and amazed at how comfortable Roman seemed to be with her baby. She settled into the rocking chair in her room, wrapped David in the soft blanket, and held him to her breast. As he suckled, Mary Kate relaxed, anticipating a quiet visit with Roman. Downstairs, she heard pounding on the wall and envisioned how cheerful the wreath would look above the fireplace.

When David had finished nursing and was beginning to doze off, she quickly changed his diaper, slipped him into pajamas, and gently laid him in the bassinet beside her bed. Mary Kate sighed. She and Mamm had found some basic, inexpensive baby clothes and the bassinet at the thrift store in Forest Grove, and they'd sewn a stack of cloth diapers a few weeks ago, but she didn't feel she could press her parents for a lot more. With Dat no longer working—and his medical bills mounting up—Mary Kate suspected money would get tight very soon.

Putting on a cheerful smile, she smoothed her dress and apron and went back downstairs—only to find Gloria seated next to Roman on the couch. Mary Kate reminded herself to give Roman the benefit of the doubt, knowing how her sister took every opportunity to impress their handsome blond neighbor.

“It would be a fine night for a sleigh ride, Roman,” Gloria was saying in a sticky-sweet voice. “The moon is out, and—”

“And here's Mary Kate,” Roman said in a purposeful tone. He rose from the couch, smiling as he reached for Mary Kate's hands. “If you're interested, we could go for a stroll,” he suggested. “It's not really very cold—”

“I'll get my coat and ask Mamm to look in on David,” Mary Kate said eagerly. “The fresh air will do me
gut
.”

When she returned to the front room wearing her coat and snow boots, Mary Kate was pleased to see that Gloria had gone to the kitchen with Mamm. She tied on her black bonnet and buttoned her coat before arranging a long green scarf around her neck. “Ready?”

Roman's eyes widened as he took her hand. “More than you know,” he murmured.

They stepped outside and went down the porch stairs. Mary Kate sighed happily as she gazed up into the night sky. The stars looked like sparkling snowflakes embedded in deep blue velvet, and the hillsides around the lodge and the houses were blanketed with fresh, flawless snow. The evergreens across the road whispered as the wind shifted their branches, and Mary Kate could almost hear them saying her name in the deep silence of the evening.

“Oh, Roman, it's so beautiful here—so different from Ohio,” she murmured. “We didn't have these hills and woods where we lived before.”

“I like it here, too,” he said. He led her behind the windbreak of pine trees, and then he turned so he was standing in front of her, close enough that their coats were touching.

When Roman slipped his arms around her, Mary Kate stepped into his embrace, encircling his neck with her arms. In a twinkling she knew he was going to kiss her, and before she could worry about doing it all wrong, Roman's lips lingered gently on hers. Mary Kate closed her eyes, giddy with the way he was holding her, sighing as he deepened her first kiss—or the first kiss that counted, anyway. The stranger who'd knocked her into the ditch hadn't cared a thing about affection, after all—and Mary Kate realized now that he hadn't even seen her as a person. That man had forgotten about her as soon has he'd gotten back into his car—so Mary Kate decided to put him out of her mind, as well. He wasn't worth remembering.

Roman eased away to look into her eyes. “Is this all right? I—I probably should've asked you if I could—”

Mary Kate rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him again, wishing this blissful moment could last forever. Roman held her as though he never wanted to let her go, his lips telling her what he'd been hinting at with words.

“Mary Kate, I—I didn't want to push you too fast, considering how—” Roman searched her face, his brown-eyed gaze intensified by the night. “Well, I thought you might be afraid of—might not want to be this close to a man, after the way . . .”

She smiled ruefully. “There was a time when I thought I'd never want another man to touch me,” she admitted, “but you've been very patient and considerate, Roman. After the way you helped me when I was birthing David—the way you marvel over him and play with him—I know you'll never be mean to us. I feel so safe and protected when I'm with you.”

Roman let out a relieved sigh. “It surprises me, how your little boy has already grabbed me by the heartstrings,” he admitted. “I've not been around many babies, but when I first saw David, moments after he was born, something inside me just . . . changed.”

“
Jah
, he's very real now,” Mary Kate murmured. “There's no putting off his needs or thinking my time is my own anymore, even though he sleeps a lot. It's kind of scary.”

When Mary Kate shivered, Roman held her close again. “Maybe we should get you back into the house,” he said as he took her gloved hand in his. “I don't want you catching a chill.”

“The wind is finding its way through the thin spots in my coat,” she admitted as she walked quickly alongside him. “I should sew myself a new one—but I've been busy making baby clothes.”

As they carefully climbed the snowy porch steps, Mary Kate chided herself for sounding as though she was desperate or begging for Roman's sympathy.
Why would he want to hear about your worn-out coat? Moments ago he was kissing you—

They stepped into the front room, and when Roman saw no one but her sleeping father—still on the sofa where they'd left him—he kissed her again and then held her close. “Mary Kate, I—for a long time I've wanted to take care of you and make you smile and share my home with you and—will you marry me?” he murmured earnestly. “I love you so much.”

Mary Kate felt as though she might explode with joy. “Oh, Roman,
yes!
” she blurted. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, thrumming with a whirlwind of emotions. Just a few days ago she'd delivered a healthy son, and now the young man of her dreams had asked her to marry him. What a remarkable week this had been!

A noise behind them made Mary Kate and Roman turn. Dat was getting up off the couch, and as he approached them his cane thumped loudly against the floor. He was talking forcefully, but his words were mushy despite his agitated tone of voice. Roman released Mary Kate and focused on her father.

“If I'd known you were awake, Bishop Floyd,” he began cautiously, “I would have asked you first if I could marry Mary Kate. I love her, and I want to—”

Once again Dat railed at them, gesturing toward the door with his cane.

Mary Kate swallowed hard. She couldn't understand what her
dat
was saying, but he was clearly very unhappy. “Are you sending Roman away? Shall I get you paper and pencil?” She'd gotten used to asking very simple questions he could answer with a nod or a shake of his head, because he only wrote things down when he felt like it.

Dat glared at her and then at Roman, once again pointing toward the door.

Mamm rushed out of the kitchen, clutching a dish towel. “Floyd, what's wrong?” she demanded. She glanced at Mary Kate and then at Roman with a bewildered expression.

Mary Kate was trying not to cry. “Roman asked me to marry him,” she murmured. “We—we thought Dat was sleeping, but now he's all upset, and—”

“I'll leave,” Roman said in a low voice. “We'll sort this out another time, Mary Kate, but right now I'm concerned about your
dat
being so riled up.
Gut
night, all.”

Blinking rapidly, Mary Kate nodded. “No matter what happens, you have my answer, Roman,” she whispered.

“My offer will always stand.” Roman slipped out the front door, taking a piece of Mary Kate's heart with him. Why had her father gotten so upset? Dat had been very appreciative of Roman's help with the horses and other outdoor chores, yet when he'd seen her in Roman's arms, his attitude had changed dramatically.

When the door was firmly shut, Dat stood staring at it, breathing rapidly. Mamm tried to take his hand, but he muttered at her and swatted her away.

“Floyd, please, settle yourself,” Mamm pleaded. “We don't want you waking the baby—or having another stroke, God forbid.”