Christmas at Promise Lodge (23 page)

Dat waved them off and hobbled back to the couch. Mary Kate wondered if he was losing his mind along with his ability to speak—but she was more concerned about what Roman must be thinking. What if he had second thoughts about marrying her now? What if Roman could see how difficult life with her family would be if her father kept objecting to his presence?

Greatly saddened, Mary Kate said goodnight to her parents and went upstairs. As she gazed at her sleeping son by the glow of her bedroom lamp, she wondered what the future held. She believed with all her heart that Roman wanted to marry her, but she sensed he might delay the wedding until her father could no longer object to it . . . and thinking about that alternative made tears run down her cheeks.

It was too soon to go to bed, so Mary Kate slipped into the rocking chair to watch David sleep. She heard Mamm fussing at Dat again downstairs, and his garbled response sounded even more vehement than before.

Sit with me, Jesus
, Mary Kate prayed with her head in her hands.
It's going to be a long night.

Chapter Twenty-Four

A week later, on Friday afternoon, Amos thrummed with the progress he'd made during his physical therapy session. He felt so good, partly because the massage therapist had given him a thorough rubdown, that he couldn't contain his excitement. He grinned at Truman from across the cab of the pickup.

“What do you think of getting everybody at Promise Lodge a pair of ice skates—or at least everybody who'd like them?” Amos asked. “I want it to be my Christmas gift to my friends here, because where would I be without them?”

Truman's eyebrows rose. “That's a lot of skates, Amos,” he remarked. “I've been skating on Rainbow Lake since I was a kid, so I think it's a fine, fun idea—”

“Would you mind taking everybody to the mercantile in Forest Grove tomorrow?” Amos asked excitedly. “You might have to make a couple of trips—and with so many folks wanting skates all at once, the store might have to order some of them in the right sizes, but—”

“I'll be happy to!” Truman declared. “A while back I offered to help Rosetta learn to skate, so this would be the perfect opportunity to get her fitted for a pair. If lots of other folks are learning at the same time, maybe she won't feel so bad about landing on her backside until she gets the hang of it.”

“Let's do it!” Amos blurted. “Who knows? Maybe I can even coax Mattie onto the ice.”

After Truman drove the truck beneath the curved iron Promise Lodge sign, he stopped in the lane. “Are you planning to teach her to skate, Amos?”

Amos knew a fishing question when he heard one. He held Truman's purposeful gaze. “When I was young, I spent all year looking forward to the joy of gliding across a frozen pond, feeling the snowflakes on my face in the hush of a winter's day,” he murmured, reliving the scene again in his mind. “Let's consider this skating scenario my incentive for working really hard at my physical therapy. If I set the goal of being able to skate sometime around Christmas—or whenever the lake's frozen solid enough—my mind will talk my body into regaining its strength faster, don't you think?”

“Always
gut
to have a goal,” Truman said. He glanced at his wristwatch as they drove closer to the lodge. “The kids are nearly done with school for the day. Do you want to tell them about going to pick out skates, or shall I?”

“How about if you do it—but don't tell them who the skates are from. I want it to be a mystery gift,” Amos explained in a lower voice. “It's the season of mystery and giving, celebrating the
gut
and perfect gift God gave us all—and it's a way for everyone to enjoy this first winter in our new home.”

“Let me ask the fellows on my landscaping crew to help with the driving,” Truman mused aloud. “We could make it in one trip that way—and the clerk could ring all the skates up at one time. I'll see what I can do about getting Mattie interested, too.”

“The trick is to convince Rosetta and Christine they want to skate. Mattie wouldn't dream of letting her younger sisters get ahead of her at learning something new.”

Truman laughed as he pulled the truck up to the back of Amos's house. “You've got that right! If one sister goes for this idea, they all three will—and they'll encourage each other out on the ice, too,” he said as he opened the door of the truck. “You and I won't have to do nearly as much teaching that way. We can be demonstrators. Encouragers.”

Amos opened the door on his side and very carefully slid out of the seat until his feet touched the ground. He waited for Truman to get his wheelchair out of the back—but instead of sitting in it, Amos took hold of its two handles on the back.

“This is what they're having me do during my sessions,” he said as he slowly walked toward the back door. “But don't let on to anybody, all right? I want to be walking free and clear—no walker, no cane—before other folks are watching me, making me lose my concentration. I had no idea how I took it for granted, being able to walk and talk and do a bunch of other things all at once, without falling.”

“You'll get there, Amos,” Truman said as he jogged ahead to open the door. “Oh, but it makes me feel better to see your legs supporting you again. It's like getting a gift weeks before Christmas.”

“You're the best friend a man ever had, Wickey,” Amos said in a voice that was tight with emotion. “I'll call the mercantile to tell them you'll be arriving with a bunch of folks tomorrow, and that the skates are on my tab. Quick and easy—and a secret we'll enjoy keeping.”

“
Jah
, it'll be our little secret,” Truman teased as he stepped inside to hold the door. “I'll go tell the kids right now, and have them spread the word about what time we'll leave in the morning. It'll be our Christmas adventure!”

“And you can tell me all about it when you bring everyone back.” Amos stopped in his kitchen to catch his breath, but he couldn't wipe the smile from his face. “You're the best, Truman. I owe you for another favor.”

After he watched Wickey's truck back down his lane and head toward the lodge, Amos sat down at his kitchen table. He ate the last frosted cookie the kids had given him—a green wreath with red sprinkles—hearing their merry carols in his mind as he chewed.

It was going to be a wonderful-
gut
Christmas after all. He could
feel
it.

* * *

That same Friday evening, Rosetta sat among her sisters, nieces, and friends, all of them crocheting happily. The wind was from the north, so the old lodge windows were making her apartment drafty, but everyone stayed cozy by wearing sweaters over their nightgowns or by wrapping quilts around their shoulders. Beulah sat in an armchair adding the final round of border to the granny square afghan they'd made for Bishop Floyd, while the younger girls worked on toys for baby David. Rosetta and her sisters had decided to crochet a few lambs for the kids to use in the Christmas Eve program. The hum of happy chatter filled her main room, and for that Rosetta was grateful.

“I can't wait to go to the mercantile for ice skates tomorrow!” Laura said excitedly. “And Truman says if it stays below freezing this whole next week, he'll come test the ice for us.”

“
Jah
, and as we've been roller-skating since we were kids,” Phoebe chimed in, “I can't think it'll be too hard to adjust to balancing on a blade. We can wear extra clothes for padding until we get the hang of it.”

Beulah shifted her afghan so she could continue crocheting the border. “I've got some padding I'd like to loan you,” she teased.

“Ice-skating's all well and
gut
for you young folks,” Ruby remarked, “but I'll be content to keep the hot chocolate and cider warm for everyone instead of falling all over myself on the ice.”

Rosetta chuckled as she gazed at Christine and Mattie. “We three sisters aren't so young anymore, but we've decided to give it a go,” she said. “I see it as something Truman and I can enjoy together—after he coaches us all.”

“The Lehman girls and the Kurtzes already have skates, so they'll be able to help us, too,” Laura said. She playfully raised her eyebrows. “Maybe Preacher Marlin will give you private lessons, Aunt Mattie.”

“And maybe he won't!” Mattie shot back, laughing along with the others. “What I want to know is who's footing this bill. What with more than a dozen folks wanting to get skates tomorrow, that'll come to a whopper of a total.”

It's a mystery. A plan for happiness
, Rosetta thought as she focused on the lamb she was crocheting. She had a pretty good idea who was paying for the skates, and she admired him for his generosity—and considered it another sign of his recovery. For the next few minutes Rosetta listened to the conversation around her, lost in thoughts of gliding effortlessly across Rainbow Lake on her skates . . . smiling at Truman as he held her hand . . .

“I can still smell that fabulous meat loaf you made for supper, Ruby,” Christine remarked as she worked another row on the fluffy white lamb she was making.

“It's Rosetta's pumpkin pie I smell,” Phoebe said with a smile. “It's the cinnamon and ground cloves that make it taste extra-special
gut
.”

“Speaking of food,” Rosetta teased, “who's in the mood for one of those lemony cherry candy cane cookies Mattie made today? I had to hide them away in the pantry to keep from eating them all before anyone else got to try one.”

“Well, if confession is
gut
for the soul, I'll confess that I've sampled one of those new cookies—or two,” Beulah added with a chuckle. “I want to make a batch and send them to Delbert's kids with their presents, in case the weather keeps us from getting there on Christmas.”

“I'll bring those cookies upstairs. We might as well be eating them as anyone else!” Rosetta stood up and laid her yarn and the lamb she'd been crocheting in her chair. “I'll tell myself that going up and down the stairs is enough exercise to work off some of those calories.”

“Work off my calories while you're at it!” Ruby called after Rosetta.

As she started down the steps, Rosetta smiled at the lively chatter that continued in her apartment. What could be better than the friendships that had developed since all of them had moved to Promise Lodge? She anticipated many more winter evenings filled with this love, and with the joy she and the other ladies shared as they crocheted together. Truman had mentioned that his church encouraged donations of blankets, stocking caps, and scarves for homeless folks in Kansas City, and Rosetta sensed that once their crochet club members had made Christmas gifts for their family members and friends, they would be eager to donate time and yarn to this worthwhile cause.

As Rosetta entered the kitchen, which was still fragrant from the simple but delicious supper they'd enjoyed, she couldn't imagine being homeless. Denki
, Lord, for finding our families and friends homes in Promise—and in Your world to come
, she prayed as she opened the pantry door. When the phone rang, she quickly set the covered pan of cookies on the counter.

“Hello? Promise Lodge Apartments—and this is Rosetta,” she added. “How can I help you?”

“Rosetta, it's Lester Lehman. And it's
gut
to hear your voice!”

“Lester! How are you—and your family?” she asked excitedly. “I suppose you have snow on the ground, like we do here? We've had at least seven or eight inches. Truman's thinking it won't be long before Rainbow Lake is frozen hard enough to skate on.”

“We've had our share of cold and snow,
jah
,” Lester replied. He cleared his throat. “Thought I'd talk to you first, before I phoned Floyd's place. It's been a couple weeks since I last spoke with Frances. So . . . how's my brother doing by now?”

Rosetta sighed. “I wish I could say he's recovering,” she murmured, “but when we took some cookies there last week, and sang carols in the front room, Floyd didn't even raise his head. I wasn't sure if he was asleep on the sofa, or if he didn't have the energy to respond to our visit.”

“Oh my. Frances must have a lot on her mind,” Lester said ruefully. “I wish Floyd had stayed in the hospital after Amos fell on him, but that's water under a bridge we won't be crossing again.”

“
Jah
, I'm afraid so,” Rosetta said. “It's very hard to tell what's going through Floyd's mind because we can't understand anything he says. On a brighter note, though, you have a bright, bouncy new nephew named David, born on December first. Mary Kate's doing fine, and we love that little boy to pieces.”

“Glad to hear it. That family needs some happiness.” Lester paused for a moment. “With Floyd unable to work any longer, I'll need to reorganize our siding and window business . . . will need to hire some more fellows to help me keep it going,” he said in a faraway voice. “And meanwhile, Frances has no income.”

“You know we won't let Floyd's family do without,” Rosetta insisted quickly. “We look in on them every day now. We're all one big family here at Promise Lodge.”

“
Jah
, you
gut
folks are the main reason I'm moving to Missouri,” he said. “I'll send Frances a check to tide them over—but don't tell her that, or she'll fuss at me.”

“You can count on us,” Rosetta stated. “We're all looking forward to you and your family moving here, so you can live in your new home and get your business up and running again.”

“And how's Amos doing? Last I heard from Frances, he'd told Mattie the wedding was off.”

Rosetta smiled, gripping the receiver. “I suspect he and Truman are keeping a few secrets about his condition,” she replied quietly. “When we stopped at Amos's place with cookies and carols last week, I thought he seemed much better—in attitude, anyway. Still in his wheelchair, though.”

“They say attitude's ninety percent of everything we do,” Lester remarked. “Amos impresses me as the sort who'll find a way to stay useful, even if he can't walk. I'm looking forward to hearing his sermons again, and spending time with him. He's a fine fellow.”

“We were hoping he'd feel up to being in church last Sunday, but I still suspect he's improving more than he's telling us about.” Rosetta glanced up the narrow stairway to be sure Mattie wasn't coming downstairs for the cookies. “The way Amos was looking at Mattie while we were singing, I could tell he hasn't put her out of his mind entirely.”

Lester laughed. “A man's got a right to his plans and dreams—and so does Mattie. Say, it's been real
gut
talking with you, Rosetta. I'd best give Frances a call now.”