The Amish Christmas Sleigh (15 page)

She returned a few minutes later, holding the container he had put the bread in that very afternoon. Not exactly the most impressive way to serve it.

“Not like that.” Constance slid out of her chair and pulled on Hope's sleeve. “We'll help you warm it up, won't we, Hope?”

His middle child mutely nodded and followed her sisters into the kitchen, leaving Jess alone with Carrie.

“I can't believe you went to all this trouble for me.” Carrie propped one chin in her hand and looked at him. This time, her eyes were soft, her mouth curved into a genuine smile.

“I had some help,” he confessed. “My sister came over earlier.”

“And she cooked this? Why didn't you say something before?”

He shrugged. “I had no idea you would think that I had cooked it.”

Her smile lost a little of its warmth. “I see.” She allowed her gaze to trail around the room and for once he saw it with another's eyes.

His jacket had fallen onto the back of the chair. Or had he entirely forgotten to hang it on its hook when he came in from outside? The mantel needed a good dusting. They had wiped it down the other day when they placed the nativity scene there, but it was covered once again. There were little bits of paper on the couch where Lilly Ruth had been cutting out snowflakes for them to have a white Christmas—just in case Chris Lapp was wrong, she had explained.

Carrie had walked in the house, saw all those snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, and said, “How quaint.” At the time he'd thought it to be a compliment. Now he wasn't so sure.

“Is that what you want? A
fraa
to cook and clean for you?” Carrie made a face that wasn't the least bit favorable.

“I can't very well do it all myself.” But he was doing the best he could.

“I see,” she said again.

Jess wasn't able to respond. His girls came back into the room carrying the warmed monkey bread on a tray complete with steaming mugs of the coffee Reba had brewed earlier.

That seemed to please Carrie, and she smiled at them.

So why did he feel like she was smiling more because she was being served than at the sight of his daughters?

“Eat up,” Constance said. “We have plenty.”

“That's right.” Lilly Ruth smiled and pushed her glasses back in place. “Someone keeps leaving it for us on the porch.”

“You don't say.” Carrie took the saucer Hope offered her and leaned back a little as Constance balanced the coffee mug and set it on the table in front of her.

Jess held his breath, unnaturally certain the hot liquid was about to go tumbling into Carrie's lap. He exhaled slowly as the danger passed. Surely his girls wouldn't do something like that. But he was getting the feeling that his daughters would rather almost anyone but Carrie be sitting in the chair she occupied. Especially Bernice Yoder.

There he was, thinking about her again, when he was supposed to be showing Carrie all the wonderful things she would gain when she joined his family.

Like what? Daughters who didn't seem keen on having her for a stepmother? A dirty house? Someone who expected his wife to cook and clean all day? Help out in the barn when he needed it? What exactly did he have to offer Carrie Byler? Certainly not love, though perhaps that would come with time. Even still, he wouldn't be the only Amish who ever settled for less than love.

His girls grabbed their own plates of sweet bread and scrambled back into their seats.

“This is delicious.” Carrie shot him an approving smile as if somehow he was responsible for it showing up on his porch.

“Can you make monkey bread?” Hope asked the question, but he noticed that all three of his girls were intently watching Carrie.

She must have felt pinned to the spot. She stopped chewing the bite she had in her mouth and looked from one girl to the other. Then she resumed chewing and slowly wiped her mouth before answering. “I don't believe I've made it, no. But I'm not much of a baker. There are too many women who enjoy that sort of thing.” She didn't finish that thought, just waved a hand in the air and took another bite. He didn't need her to complete the sentence. He could do that on his own.
For me to concern myself with that.

If she didn't want to cook, clean, or bake, she surely wouldn't want to help out in the barn. So what did Carrie find fulfilling in life? That might be good to know before he asked for her to join her life with his.

They finished their dessert in silence. Jess bowed his head to begin their silent prayer, then the girls started to clean the table.

Carrie smiled as she watched them and confusion washed over Jess. Why did she get such pleasure from watching others work while she did nothing?

He shook the thought away. He was misunderstanding again. Surely that's what it was. Carrie was not lazy. She was a good Amish woman.

Who leased her fields to others for them to farm and took part of the profit in payment for her land.

How had he forgotten that? She also leased her pasture space and her barn. Come to think of it, he never saw a vegetable garden on her property, though he had seen her tending the flowers that grew around the house. Just because he hadn't seen a vegetable garden didn't mean there wasn't one.

“Would you like to stay and read the Bible with us?”

Carrie shook her head. “I should be getting back home. I like to have time alone before I go to bed.”

Time alone? Jess wasn't even sure what that was. By the time he got the girls in bed, he had just enough time to spend with God before drifting off to sleep himself. Then he got up the next morning and did it all over again.

“I'll walk you out.”

He helped her with her coat, ducked under one of the dangling snowflakes, then opened the front door. The night was cold and the sky looked heavy. Clouds covered the moon and stars. Only the light shining through the house windows shed any light onto the yard.

Maybe Chris Lapp was right and they would have a white Christmas this year.

“
Danki,
for supper.”

“I'm glad you came.” And he was, but not for the reasons that he would have originally thought. Still, he was grateful for the opportunity to get to know Carrie a little better. She was easy enough on the eyes, but there was something missing. He couldn't name just what.

She moved a little closer to him in the dim light of the porch. The hint was subtle but clear. She wanted him to kiss her.

He moved away and back, putting as much distance between them as he could. He wasn't ready for that, not at all. But even as the shadow of disappointment flashed across Carrie's face, another evening under the nighttime sky came to mind. But with a different girl he had wanted to kiss. More than anything he had wanted to pull her close and just feel her warmth next to his, absorb some of the beauty and grace that was Bernice Yoder. But the magic of that night had been broken and the chance slipped away like the smoke from his chimney.

“Good night, Carrie Byler,” he said.

“Good night, Jess Schmucker.” She moved toward her buggy and he watched her go, glad she was leaving even while he was filled with a longing for something he couldn't name.

C
HAPTER
10

“Y
ou promised.” Reba crossed her arms and glared at him. He was used to the look, having been subjected to it all the years they spent growing up.

“I'm tired, Reba.” Jess dropped the bag of corn feed on the ground, missing her toes by mere inches. It was a trick Reba was used to and she didn't flinch, just kept up her argument as to why he had to spend tonight in Bernice Yoder's company.

“A deal's a deal, brother.”

“
Jah,
but I didn't say I'd have dinner with her tonight.” He plopped down another bag of feed, this one even closer to her feet.

“Too bad. She's coming anyway.” She moved a little out of the way when he turned with the third bag. “When you're done here, go take a shower.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “And shave.” She pointed to his lip where the hairs were starting to grow back. “And put on clean clothes.” Then she turned on her heel and headed out of the barn.

“Where are you going?”

Reba spun back around. “I'm going to cook dinner. Of course.”

Of course.

Bernice pulled her buggy to a stop and set the brake before climbing to the ground. She reached behind the seat and pulled out the basket of gingerbread men she had stashed there. She had baked the cookies the night before, knowing that she wanted to bring them tonight. How much fun would it be to decorate the cookies with Jess and the girls? It was a Christmas tradition she had enjoyed since she was a child, and she had missed it terribly this year.

She hooked the basket handle on her arm and gave her horse a pat on the neck. “Give me just a second, girl, and I'll put you in the barn.” It was too cold a night to leave the aging horse in the wind, even if she was only going to be here for an hour or two.

She was reaching for the fasteners when Constance and Hope came crashing out of the house. Their coats flapped in the wind as they raced toward her. They had scarves tied on their heads and covering their ears and grins on their faces as they skidded to a stop in front of her.

“You're here. You're here! You're here!”

“I'm here,” she said, laughing as the girls flung their arms around her. As far as welcomes went, this one was fantastic. “Where's Lilly Ruth?”

“Inside with
Dat
and
Aenti
Reba.”

“Reba's here?”

The girls nodded. “They said to tell you to go on inside and we'll take care of your horse.”

“Thank you very much.” Bernice gave them both a quick nod, then started toward the house. With each step her heart pounded harder and harder in her chest. She had been so very surprised when Jess had sent a note to school with his girls asking her to come to supper tonight. She had read and reread the missive until she knew each word by heart, each curve of his strong handwriting.

It was just a supper. Parents invited teachers to supper all the time. Some wanted to talk about their child in the schoolroom. Others wanted to show their appreciation. For Jess Schmucker it was more than likely a mixture of both. But that did not make this a date. Nothing more than supper, she told herself as she let herself into the house.

“Jess? Reba?”

“In here,” her friend called.

The house smelled divine, like fresh baked bread and the forest when it snows. Pine boughs accented the mantel and the decorations that appeared to be spread throughout the front room. Paper snowflakes of varying sizes hung, suspended from the ceiling with lengths of yarn. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and in general the atmosphere was festive and cheery.

“Bernice!” Lilly Ruth came flying from the kitchen and ran headlong into Bernice, hugging her with all the might in her thin, little girl arms. “I'm so glad you're here!”

“So am I.” Bernice returned Lilly Ruth's hug, surprised to discover that in spite of her nervousness, she was happy to be there. She was looking forward to supper and decorating cookies with the girls and in general spending time with the man and his daughters.

A lot of good it would do her. She needed to remember that he had called this to thank her for taking care of his children this school year and nothing more. Talk around town was that Carrie Byler had come to supper the night before. And Bernice was certain that the motivations behind that invite had more to do with an upcoming wedding.

“Come on.” Lilly Ruth pulled on her hand, bringing her out of her stupor. “Come see what Reba made us to eat.”

Bernice walked into the kitchen to bubbling pots and popping grease. “My goodness. All of this is for me?”

Jess whirled around, looking both surprised and chagrined. He had a towel slung over one shoulder, his cheeks reddened from the heat billowing around the room.

“Hi, Bernice. Almost ready,” Reba called over one shoulder.

“Do you need some help?” Bernice set the basket of cookies on the sideboard.

“Oh no, I've almost got it.” Reba started dishing up platters of this and that. A bowl of chicken and dumplings, fried okra, a basket of corn bread muffins. In only a matter of minutes, the table was covered with a feast.

Reba dusted her hands and pulled off her apron. “Well, that's that. Enjoy.” And before Bernice could say another word, she swept out of the house and was gone.

Jess chuckled and shook his head.

Bernice followed suit. Sometimes being around Reba was like getting trapped in a whirlwind.

“You didn't have to go to all this trouble for me.”

Jess smiled. “I didn't. Reba did.”

“
Jah,
about that. You should have said something. We could have eaten at the
dawdi haus
. It would have been nice to cook for someone besides Sarah.”

“But I invited you to dinner.”

She shrugged. “No matter.”

Jess studied her, a moment so intense she shifted in place to keep from running out the door.

“Is it ready?” There were footsteps across the wooden floors and Constance and Hope burst into the room. Their cheeks were pink from the cold, smiles stretching from ear to ear.

“Go take your coats off and wash your hands, then we'll eat.” Bernice straightened and gave a little cough. “I mean, ask your father.” For a moment there, she had forgotten this wasn't her little family. She was just the teacher. She didn't have the right to tell them to wash up, at least not outside the schoolroom.

He gave them a quick nod.

The girls filed out to wash their hands, and Bernice was left alone with Jess.

“I thought you handled that quite well,” he said.

“I apologize. I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries.”

He frowned. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

And the conversation ended as the girls came rushing back in. There was no way they had been gone long enough to wash their hands thoroughly, but neither Bernice nor Jess sent them back. Bernice was thankful. She needed the buffer the girls provided.

They sat down around the table, everyone bowing their heads to say a prayer before they ate. Bernice asked God to bless their food and to please take away the sense of yearning that filled her by just sitting at the table with Jess and his girls. Never before had she longed for a family of her own. Not even with Jacob. And never like this.

Jess lifted his head, and the others followed suit.

Bernice unfolded a napkin and placed it in her lap, hiding her smile when the girls mimicked her actions.

They passed around the bowls and platters of food, everyone serving themselves before passing it on to the next person. Conversation was lively, consisting mostly of the girls telling tales on each other and their classmates.

Bernice couldn't remember ever having a better time. Afterward, they cleaned off the table and did the dishes. Despite their protests, she helped the girls. She wasn't about to sit and not help clean up after one of the best meals she had ever eaten. Plus that meant they could begin decorating the cookies sooner rather than later.

The girls gasped and squealed as she brought out the cookies and the small tubs filled with colored icing and sprinkles.

“And you can use these for buttons,” she said, pouring out candy-coated chocolates.

“Oh Bernice, you thought of everything!” What should have been a happy sentiment seemed to have Hope close to tears.

“Are you all right,
liebschdi?
”

Hope nodded, but wrapped her arms around Bernice's middle. The hot moisture of Hope's tears wet the fabric of her dress. Not knowing what else she could do, Bernice just held her, running a hand soothingly down her back as the girl cried.

“She misses our
mamm,
” Constance said in her not-quite-adult tone.

“Is that true?” she asked, her voice soft and low.

Hope nodded.

“That's only natural, you know.”

Hope tipped her face up to look at Bernice. Her heart melted at the sight of those tearstained cheeks. “It is?”

“Of course. Anytime you lose someone you love, you miss them. Even if they just move away.”

“So it's okay that I cry?”

“Of course it is.” Bernice smiled even as her eyes filled with tears.

Before she knew what happened, all three girls had wrapped their arms around her, surrounding her with all the love a young heart could hold.

They let go one by one. Hope squeezed her tight, then turned her loose and skipped back to her place at the table.

Bernice shook her head at the resiliency of youth. Was that all they needed to know? That it was okay to miss their mother? She would talk to Jess about it, but she had seen him with his girls. He wouldn't begrudge them their tears. Perhaps they didn't want to worry him or make him sadder.

“
Dat,
come get a cookie.” Lilly Ruth licked the streak of blue icing from the side of her hand, succeeding in smearing it across her nose in the process.

Jess appeared in the doorway. “Are they ready to eat?”

“Come decorate one.” Bernice waved him in.

For moment she thought he might protest, then he sauntered in and grabbed a cookie.

Forty-five minutes later, the cookies were all decorated, the children were cleaned up, and Jess sat down with his Bible.

Bernice settled on the couch with Constance on one side, Hope on the other, and Lilly Ruth snuggled in her lap. The fire crackled as Jess read, his deep voice lulling her into another time and place. One in which this was her life and not just one happy evening out of so many lonely ones.

By the time he marked his place and stopped reading, Lilly Ruth's breathing had evened out to the steady rise and fall of deep sleep.

“Want me to take her?”

Bernice shook her head as Jess roused the other girls and led them up the stairs.

He directed her into the first room on the second floor. She settled Lilly Ruth on the single bed while Jess helped Constance and Hope into their bunk beds. Just seeing the sweet, shared room made her a little homesick. Or perhaps it was simple nostalgia for the simpler days of her youth, back before Leah and Jacob had betrayed her and life had been easy.

“Good night,” Jess said, softly planting a kiss on each daughter's forehead.

“Bernice,” Constance whispered, her sleep-weary voice beckoning. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she whispered in return. Unable to stop herself, she leaned in and gave each of them a small kiss.

“See you in the morning,” Hope muttered.

Bernice's heart jumped. She wouldn't be there in the morning. She had been pretending all evening that this was her life, but it was time to return to reality.

She walked back down the stairs, so aware that Jess was right behind her.

At the bottom of the steps she took her coat from the peg by the door. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I had a really good time.”

“Me, too.” He grabbed his own coat from the peg next to where hers had been hanging and slipped his arms into the sleeves.

“Where are you going?”

“To help you get your horse.”

It looked like her escape would be delayed a few minutes. But she nodded, wrapped a scarf around her head, and plunged into the cold, dark night.

Jess made short work of hitching up her horse.

Bernice was glad; it was past time to return to her real life.

“Thank you,” he said as she placed her basket behind the seat.

“I should be thanking you.”

Even in the dim light, she could see the quick flash of his smile. “I'm glad you came tonight.”