The Amish Christmas Sleigh (14 page)

But she knew one place where she might be able to find out. “Do you remember those books
Mamm
used to read?”

Lilly Ruth shook her head.

“
Jah,
” Hope said.

“They were about love, right?”

Her sister nodded.

“All we have to do is get one of those books. That'll tell us how to make him fall in love with Bernice.” It was the perfect idea. Or at least the best idea she'd had so far.

“Here's the plan,” Constance said, giving each of her sisters her best
mamm-
in-charge look. “When we get home, I've got to help
Dat
with the milking. You two get in the house as soon as you can. Get up to
Dat
's room and look in the old trunk at the end of their bed. I think the books are in there.”

“Then what?” Hope asked.

“You take one.”

Lilly Ruth gasped, but it was Hope who protested. “Won't
Dat
get angry?”

“Not if he doesn't know.”

“I don't know . . .” Hope hedged.

“Do you want a
mamm
or not?”

“I want a
mamm,
” Lilly Ruth said.

Hope nodded.

“Then get in there and get one of those books.”

C
HAPTER
9

“C
an I have a word please?” Jess shifted and shook in his boots as he waited for Carrie Byler to acknowledge his request.

She turned and leveled clear blue eyes on him. They weren't hostile or unkind. So why was he so nervous? He wasn't this jittery when he talked to Bernice Yoder. Maybe he needed a rest.

“
Jah?
” Carrie prompted. She dressed in her usual black. He wasn't sure why that bothered him. It just did. She patted her hair in place and smoothed her hands down her apron as she waited for him to continue.

Jess cleared his throat. “I wanted to invite you to supper tomorrow night.”

A knowing light dawned in her eyes. “That would be
gut, jah
.” She smiled and the tension left his shoulders. His nervousness remained, but at least he wasn't wound up like a wooden top.

“Should I bring something?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Of course not. You just come and be my guest.”

“Six o'clock?” she asked.

He nodded in return. “Six o'clock.”

She moved away to stand by her cousin and her friends.

Jess paused for a moment, then spun on his heel and went in search of his sister.

He found her with their
mamm,
and thankfully for once, she wasn't glued to Bernice Yoder's side. “Reba, I need your help.”

“
Jah?
”

“Carrie Byler is coming to dinner tomorrow night, and I need you to cook something for her.”

Reba raised one brow, but didn't say a thing.

“I mean, I need you to help me cook something.”

Reba looked to their mother, who only smiled. Their
mamm
had learned long ago with six boys in the house not to meddle in the affairs of the heart.

“Please, Reba.”

His sister crossed her arms and gave him that look, the one that usually meant trouble for whoever received it. “One condition.”

Of course. “What is it?”

“You have Bernice Yoder over for supper next.”

He shook his head. He didn't want to give Bernice the wrong idea.

But she was his girls' teacher. Surely he could invite her over as a courtesy. After all, the parents were always doing one thing or another for their school instructors. Hadn't he just given nearly forty dollars to the gift fund to provide Bernice Yoder with a fine present for Christmas? “You'll cook then, too?” he asked.

Reba nodded.

“Deal.”

But the smile on his sister's face made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. She was up to something. Just what was anybody's guess.

 

Jess slapped his gloves against his thigh and peered out of the barn. Where were the girls? It was past time to start the afternoon milking, and they needed to get everything done as quickly as possible before it was time to eat. School had let out long ago, but he hadn't seen hide nor hair of them.

He shook his head. In the new year he not only needed to marry himself a wife, but he needed to find a barn helper, as well. Maybe he could convince his brother Ben's oldest son to apprentice with him.

Behind him in the barn, the cows shifted and lowed. He couldn't wait much longer to milk. With a sigh he eased back into the barn and started the chore.

Half an hour later his girls finally showed up. They didn't offer an explanation, and he didn't ask. They had all been through so much the last few months, it didn't seem right to ride them too hard. They were only little girls, after all.

And they worked extra hard to complete the chores without having to be reminded.

His girls were growing up, no doubt about that.

“How was school?” he asked as they finally made their way to the house.

“
Gut, gut,
” Constance answered for them all.

“Just two more days and we're out,” Hope added.

And three more days until Christmas. But before that . . .

“We're having a guest tonight, girls.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his children exchange looks. Not sure what it meant, he continued, “Carrie Byler is coming to eat.” It might be a little unorthodox for him to involve his children this early on in the courting practice, but how much could they really know about what was going on? They would just think that a friend was coming to dinner.

“Carrie Byler from across the road at
Dawdi
and
Mammi
's?” Constance asked.

“The very same.”

“We've never had company before,” Lilly Ruth mused.

“At least not since
Mamm
died.” For the first time in a long while, he felt a stab of longing at the mention of Linda Grace's name. Or maybe it came from the fact that Hope mentioned it.

“Well, we are having company tonight,” Jess said.

“Good thing the nice ladies left us some more food today.” Constance pointed to the porch where a towel-lined basket sat to the side of the door.

That hadn't been there when he went to the barn, but he supposed with the noise the milking machines made, whoever left it could have arrived with bells on and he wouldn't have heard them.

Hope ran forward and scooped up the basket by its handle. She pulled back the towel. “It's that sticky bread again.”

“Yum.” Lilly Ruth ran to catch up with her sister.

Constance rolled her eyes and pressed her lips together. Jess had the feeling she was trying to act older but deep down she really wanted to rush to her sisters' side. Childhood was so short. He wanted hers to last a bit longer. All the more reason to have Carrie over tonight. The sooner they made their plans and got married, the sooner his children could go back to being children. If only for a little bit longer.

“Is there a note?” Jess asked.

Hope and Lilly Ruth peered into the basket, each lifting the sides of the towel to check underneath.

“No,
Dat
. No note,” Hope said.

“Nope,” Lilly Ruth chimed in.

It was the third time that someone had left monkey bread on his porch when he was out and three times that they hadn't left a note. How was he supposed to know who to return the basket to? The rest of the food came in throwaway pans with a note so that the chef got the credit. But if he got one more casserole from one of the women in the spouses' group, he might have to start spreading rumors that he wasn't getting married again, if only to get some peace.

“Do you think
Mammi
made it?” Hope asked.

“I like
Mammi
's monkey bread.” Lilly Ruth rubbed her belly and licked her lips.

He did, too. In fact, it was his favorite, but why would his mother bake the bread, then leave it on the porch? Why didn't she come into the barn and talk with him for a bit? She would have, and that meant the bread wasn't from his
mamm,
but from someone else entirely. But who?

“Okay, everyone get upstairs and get washed up. Put on clean dresses, then come back down, and I'll redo your hair.”

They frowned at him.

“Why?” Hope asked.

Constance gave her a sideways kick. The blow seemed to be a warning and didn't appear to hurt the girl, so he let it go without comment.

“Because he wants us to look nice tonight,” Constance said. She smiled, though her teeth were clenched so tight her jaw jumped.

“That's right.” A knock sounded on the door. “That's your aunt. Now go on, get ready.”

They dragged their feet as they tromped up the steps. It might seem like too much trouble right now, but they would appreciate what the extra attention brought them: a new
mamm
. And just in time for Christmas.

 

“I'm telling you. He's going to marry her.” Constance made a face as she spoke. They were in the upstairs bathroom washing the day's remains from their faces. She twisted her mouth the other way and wiped at the spot again. Was it chocolate or a freckle?

“What about Bernice?” Lilly Ruth asked. “I thought he was going to marry Bernice.”

“I like Bernice,” Hope said.

“We all like Bernice,” Constance snapped. She didn't mean to be rude, but they were running out of time. He had invited Carrie Byler to dinner. Constance suppressed a shudder. It wasn't nice to talk about grown-ups, but something about Carrie bothered Constance. First of all, she smelled funny, like mint and mothballs. And she wore black all the time. It was just sort of creepy. Constance knew that when a loved one died, it was customary to wear black for the first year, but she had never known her
mammi
's neighbor to wear anything else. And then there was the constant fidgeting and smoothing. Why was the woman continually pressing on her hair and her dress? She was worse than one of those English models Constance had seen on the television once in the Walmart. She might only be eight years old, but she had never seen an Amish woman so concerned with appearances.

But the worst thing of all about Carrie Byler? She wasn't Bernice.

“What did the book say?” Hope asked again.

Not near enough, or maybe it was because they didn't have time to read much of it before they hurried out to the barn to help their father. Thankfully he didn't ask them why they were late. That was the power of prayer in motion. Constance had prayed and prayed that her father wouldn't be mad. Not only was he not mad, he didn't even seem curious as to where they had been.

Lilly Ruth wiped her face with a wet towel, hitting only the high points as she washed.

“Well,” Constance said, taking the washrag from Lilly Ruth and performing the chore herself. “The man thought the woman had eyes that sparkled like diamonds and a laugh prettier than an angel's song.”

“What's diamonds?” Lilly Ruth asked, closing her eyes against Constance's efforts.

“Jewels, silly,” Hope replied.

Lilly Ruth, eyes still squeezed shut, turned her face toward her sister. “I may be the youngest, but that's no reason to call me silly.”

Constance wrapped a firm hand around Lilly Ruth's chin and turned her face back front. “Be still.”

“Ow! You're going to scrub my freckles off.” She peered at her with one blue eye, the other still closed tight.

“Sorry.”

“Bernice has sparkly eyes,” Hope said.

It was true. Bernice seemed to shimmer and sparkle wherever she went. Or maybe it was just leftover glitter from that day's art project.

“Do you know what angels sound like?” Constance asked.

Her sisters shook their heads.

“Me, either.” How were they supposed to know if Carrie Byler fit the description if they didn't know that?

“Did it say anything about the men?” Hope asked.

Constance shook her head. “I didn't get very far. Only that the man was handsome and strong.”

“
Dat
's handsome and strong.” Lilly Ruth pulled away from Constance. “Everything else belongs on there,” she groused, moving so that Constance couldn't reach her with the rag.

Constance shrugged. She supposed her sister's face was clean enough. It was hard to tell with all those freckles.

“
Jah,
that's
gut,
right? That
Dat
's already handsome and strong.” Hope ran a hand down her dress in a manner that reminded Constance all too much of Carrie Byler.

“
She
has to think so.”

“And if she doesn't?” Lilly Ruth asked.

“I guess the deal's off,” Constance said.

“How do you make someone ugly and weak?” Hope asked.

“I don't know,” Constance mused. “But until we figure that out, we'll have to make sure that
Dat
doesn't fall in love with her.”

Doubt pulled at her heart. What were they going to do if Carrie Byler had eyes that sparkled like diamonds and a laugh like the song of angels?

 

“Would you like some more noodles, Carrie?”

Jess looked up from his plate to see Constance holding the bowl of chicken and noodles toward their guest. So far the dinner had gone as smoothly as he could have hoped. His girls had been on their best behavior. They had come downstairs clean and neat and remained so since the meal started. They had all remembered to use their napkins and their manners as they politely and quietly ate their meal.

“Oh, I don't think I can eat another bite.” Carrie patted her trim waistline and gave Constance a smile. Why had he only now noticed that when she smiled the action didn't quite reach her cool blue eyes?

Or maybe he was being overly picky.

All of this was for his daughters.

“I can't imagine why,” Constance started, her voice the example of innocence. “You've only had three helpings.”

“Constance.” Her name was out of his mouth before he could give a second thought to what she'd said. And the evening had been progressing so nicely.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's all right.” Carrie gave his daughter that cool smile once again. “Forgive me, but I do enjoy a home-cooked meal. And I get them so seldom these days.”

She didn't cook?

Jess shook the thought away. He couldn't very well ask, now, could he? Maybe he just misunderstood. It would be hard to cook just for one person.

He shot Constance a look. “How about dessert?”

Lilly Ruth hopped to her feet. “We still have some of the monkey bread.” She danced off toward the kitchen before he could agree one way or the other. But monkey bread, he supposed, was just as good a dessert as any other.