Amish Christmas Twins

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Elizabeth,

  The day you came to New Beginnings, I was debating about giving my daughters up for adoption. When I overheard you say you’d lost your own baby, it broke my heart. I could tell you’d be a caring, generous mother because you spent so much time making all those baby clothes and because you donated all you had to New Beginnings.

  I want my daughters to experience something I never had—two loving parents. I’d like my little girls to grow up in a stable home where they’ll be cherished by a couple with loving and caring hearts. It’s clear you and your husband have a deep bond. I’ve never seen two people so much in love.

  This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I cannot do for my twins what the two of you can do. If you’re willing to adopt them, you can contact me at New Beginnings any time before the New Year to sign the adoption papers.

  Prayerfully yours,

  Aubrey Lundeen

  Elizabeth’s hand shook as she reread the letter. Aubrey wanted her to adopt the twins? But the teen mother thought Elizabeth was married. To Luke.

  “Elizabeth?” Luke sounded frantic.

  Too stunned to answer, Elizabeth sat there in a daze, holding the letter. Adopt these babies? She’d love to keep the darling little twins, but would Aubrey give her daughters to a single mother? Most likely not. She wanted them to have two parents.

  From the depths of her heart, Elizabeth cried out in silent anguish, Not again, Lord. I’ve already lost one baby. Now I’m given a chance to have two, only to have them snatched from me.

  The baby in the cradle yowled. The little girl in Elizabeth’s arms fussed louder. Elizabeth cuddled her close. After stuffing the letter into her pocket, Elizabeth picked up the other twin.

  Right now, these little ones needed her. Elizabeth pushed aside her own pain. She might only have these small girls for a day, but she’d pour out all of her love. Just like God had when He sent baby Jesus. As Luke had pointed out, sacrificial giving was the real meaning of Christmas.

  Elizabeth had sacrificed when she’d donated her baby things to New Beginnings. But that was nothing compared to the heart-wrenching sacrifice of giving up the chance to keep these two precious children.

  The doorknob rattled.

  Elizabeth croaked out, “Come in,” but her too-tight throat choked off the words. She swallowed hard to try again, but before she could answer, the door crashed open.

  * * *

  Luke had been outside getting firewood when Elizabeth cried out. He couldn’t make out her words, but she sounded upset. He dropped the logs and rushed toward her house.

  In the distance, she hunched over a large object on her porch. Most of it—possibly a large wooden box filled with stacks of cloth—seemed to be inside the open front door. But Elizabeth was on the floor, her leg with her cast stuck straight out on the porch.

  Had she fallen? Or had that large object knocked her over?

  Luke sprinted through the snow, his boots churning up the powdery snow on top and crunching through the icy layers beneath. He had to help her.

  Puffing out white clouds of breath, he’d almost reached her front door when it slammed. He stood on the porch. Had she seen him and shut him out?

  Yesterday she’d made him promise not to come over, but what if she needed someone to lift that big box? She might also need assistance to stand.

  “Elizabeth?” he called through the door. “Are you all right?”

  No answer.

  Luke spied her crutches leaning against the house. She couldn’t get around without those.

  He knocked. A cry penetrated the door. A combination of mewling and yowling. Was she hurt?

  He called again. But only silence greeted him.

  She could be lying there unable to move. Maybe even pinned under that box or whatever it was. He had to help her.

  When she didn’t answer his third call and the cries grew louder and shriller, Luke rattled the doorknob. He hated to barge in uninvited, but he couldn’t let her cry. Besides, she needed her crutches. He reached for them with his free arm.

  The knob turned in his hand. He pushed the door open, stepped inside, and froze. Elizabeth sat on the floor, a bawling baby in each arm.

  Impossible.

  He blinked and looked again. The wooden object had not been a box, but the end of a cradle. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was the cradle they’d dropped off at New Beginnings. How had it gotten here?

  Elizabeth appeared to be as stunned as he felt.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I, um, the babies are crying.”

  Luke looked from one squalling red face to the other. His questions could wait. She needed help, not his curiosity. “Do they need to be fed or something?”

  “I think so. The formula and bottles are beside the cradle.”

  He bent and picked up the formula can. “Should I do it? Or help you up? Or what?”

  “I’m all right here on the floor for now. If you could make the bottles, that would be a big help.”

  “Sure.” Except for one thing. He had no idea how to do it. But Elizabeth had her hands full with bawling babies. He’d have to figure it out.

  Carrying the can and two bottles, he headed for the kitchen, trying to appear competent. But inside he whispered a silent prayer, Lord, I need help here.

  Calmness descended on him. He’d been in the kitchen when one of his cousins fixed bottles. She’d boiled water to sterilize the bottles. He could manage that.

  While the water heated, he read the can. This part appeared easy. Mix warm water and a scoop of the powder. After rinsing the bottles with boiling water, he filled them almost to the top with warm water. Then he added the formula and shook. So far, so good. Well, except for the babies’ cries, which had reached earsplitting levels.

  He screwed the tops onto the bottles and carried them out to Elizabeth. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable on the couch?”

  She nodded. “Maybe we can put the babies in the cradle for now.”

  Setting the bottles on the floor beside her, Luke reached for the first baby, his heart pounding. And not just because he was so near to Elizabeth. He had visions of dropping the infant. Or hurting the tiny little girl.

  “They’re newborns, so you need to support their heads,” Elizabeth warned as he took the closest baby.

  He cupped one hand around the baby’s head the way she directed and lifted the tiny girl from Elizabeth’s shoulder. His other hand brushed the bare skin of her arm. He sucked in a silent breath to steady himself and concentrated on the baby.

  He laid one crying baby in the cradle and returned for the other. Then he leaned Elizabeth’s crutches against the wall beside her. When she placed her soft fingers in his outstretched hands, electricity shot through him. Luke fought the longing to take her in his arms.

  He’d been so focused on the babies he hadn’t paid much attention to Elizabeth. Not that he’d been unaware of her presence. As he helped her up, though, the brightness under her black work apron caught his attention. Pink. Instead of black, she was wearing pink. A color that made her glow. Her beauty sent his pulse skyrocketing.

  Now was not the time to be thinking of her loveliness, her sweetness, her . . .

  She let go of one of his hands, balanced on her good leg, and reached for a crutch. When she let go of his other hand, she left the imprint of her touch on his palm.

  He followed her into the living room and waited until she’d settled comfortably on the couch before he brought her one screaming baby. Then he returned with the bottles. He handed her one, and as soon as the little girl latched on to it her cries ceased.

  Elizabeth motioned to the other end of the couch with her chin. “Why don’t you sit there?”

  Luke set the other bottle on the end table and went to fetch the other infant. Once he inserted the bottle in her small, yelping mouth, she drank greedily. And blessed peace reigned at last.

  Having such a small, fragile baby in his arms made Luke long for
children. But children meant a home, a wife. He couldn’t help but stare at Elizabeth, who was gazing down at the infant in her arms with such motherly love, his heart stuttered to a stop.

  He drew in a long, slow breath of yearning. All these years, he’d wanted no one but Elizabeth. It might be too soon for her to consider remarriage, but maybe, just maybe, the pink dress was a sign she might be healing. He wanted to stay close, so he’d be there if and when she was ready to move on.

  If only he could stay here forever surrounded by the soft, contented sighs of babies sucking, the scent of cookies and cinnamon perfuming the air, and the woman he loved with all his heart sitting nearby. Her contented smile lit a spark that grew into a raging fire. A fire he needed to douse.

  * * *

  Elizabeth sneaked glances at Luke as he encouraged the baby to drink her bottle. What a wonderful father he’d make! At that thought, her cheeks flamed.

  But Aubrey had been a good judge of character. He’d be the perfect choice for the twins’ father. The only problem was he’d never consider her for the role of mother.

  That thought lay like a heavy burden on her heart. Today was a day of sacrifice. Years ago, she’d given up her teenage dreams. Dreams of a future with Luke.

  Pictures of Luke avoiding her when they were teens flitted through Elizabeth’s mind. He’d been her good friend. Then suddenly one day, he’d acted more like her enemy. Well, maybe not an enemy, but he definitely avoided her. No more joking around. No more conversations. No more friendship.

  In fact, it started after that fateful day, the one when Owen drove her home. Luke had been calming her bucking horse, so she’d needed a ride. She’d never considered that it might seem like she and Owen were courting. Everyone knew the circumstances.

  But after Luke had brought her horse and buggy back to the house—and she’d stared out the window at him longingly—he’d grown cold and distant. Once he backed away, Elizabeth gave in to the inevitable.

  Everyone looked at Owen and her as a couple, and things progressed from there. Because she had no chance with Luke, she settled for Owen. Like most of their friends, she and Owen courted for a year and then married.

  He’d been a good husband, and she’d tried hard to be a good wife. But guilt always niggled inside her because what she’d felt for her husband was fondness. Nothing like her nail-biting crush on Luke.

  All those old feelings came rushing back. Elizabeth peeped over at Luke, his muscular arms gently cradling the tiny baby, and Aubrey’s note ran through her mind. What if the teen had been right? Elizabeth hadn’t realized her own emotions had been so unguarded. But had Luke really looked at her with love? Or had Aubrey been mistaken? Or overly starry-eyed?

  As if sensing her eyes on him, Luke looked up. Elizabeth avoided his scrutiny by turning her attention to the baby.

  “Now that both babies are quiet,” he said, “can I ask some questions?”

  “Of course.” She appreciated the fact that he’d put the babies’ needs ahead of his curiosity.

  “So, who are these babies and how did they get here and why? How long will they be staying? And—”

  Elizabeth raised a finger to stop him. “One question at a time. First of all, the twins belong to a teen mom from New Beginnings. Do you remember that girl Aubrey who came to the counter while we were there?”

  “Vaguely. After all you donated to them, you also agreed to babysit?”

  “Not exactly.” This would be easier to explain if she showed him the note. “I have a letter that will answer most of your questions, but—” She tilted her head to indicate the baby in her arms. She lifted the little girl and patted her tiny back. “Maybe we should read it after we take care of the babies.” Luke followed Elizabeth’s lead and burped the twin he held. “It might be easier to talk if we put them into bed first.”

  The little one dozed on his shoulder. “Let me get the cradle.”

  Cuddling the baby close, Luke headed into the hall and returned with the cradle in one hand. Elizabeth had barely been able to drag the heavy cradle into the house, but he’d lifted it with one hand.

  He placed the cradle beside her, and she almost swooned at his nearness. Then he knelt beside the cradle and lowered the baby from his arms into the nest of blankets. When he gently tucked a blanket around the sleeping twin, her pulse played a double-time rhythm that her heart matched.

  “I have an idea.” Luke stood. “Can you hold that baby for a few minutes? I need to run to my house, but I’ll be right back.”

  Elizabeth hoped he’d hurry. Not because she was tired of holding the sweet little bundle in her arms, but because Luke had taken some of the warmth and sunlight with him when he left. At the same time, she was reluctant to tell him about the letter. And to see the death of her dream.

  Chapter 12

  Outside, the temperature had dropped and snow swirled around Luke, stinging his face. He rushed to his workshop, where he’d been making the two cradles for New Beginnings. Even though he’d worked late last night, one still remained unfinished. He was glad he’d completed the other. The second baby needed a place to sleep temporarily.

  He had no idea how long Elizabeth would be caring for these little ones, but he doubted she’d need the cradle for more than a few days. The babies only had one can of formula.

  It seemed odd the young mother would leave her children on Christmas Day. Perhaps if her family didn’t know about the babies or had been angry about her pregnancy, she didn’t want to upset them by bringing the babies for the holiday. Did she plan to stay away long? If so, Elizabeth would need extra help. Why had she agreed to care for twins when she had a broken leg?

  Right now, he needed to get back as quickly as he could. But he wanted to give her the nativity set. Balancing the box in one arm, he picked up the cradle with the other.

  At Elizabeth’s, he left the nativity set in the entryway. He’d wait for the right time to give it to her. Then he walked into the living room to find Elizabeth with a scrunched-up face.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I think both twins need to be changed, and the diapers are still in the hallway.”

  “Jah, they are.” Luke set the second cradle near Elizabeth. “Let me start a fire first. It won’t take long. I don’t want the babies to catch a chill.”

  He knelt by the fireplace, put two logs on the grate, and crumpled some paper. Then he added kindling and more wood before lighting a match. The paper caught fire immediately, but the kindling steamed a little from the snow on it. After it burst into flames, Luke headed for the hallway.

  When he picked up the pile of diapers, a blue envelope fluttered to the floor. Luke scooped it up. The script on the front said: To the twins’ future father.

  How odd.

  He carried the letter into the living room with him and held it out to Elizabeth. “You might want to put this in a safe place. Does the twins’ mamm plan to marry the babies’ father?”

  * * *

  Elizabeth had been basking in the heat from the fireplace as the logs blazed. Toasty warm, she reached languidly for the envelope Luke held out. “I have no idea of her marriage plans.”

  The only thing Elizabeth knew for sure was that she and Luke had been chosen to be the babies’ parents. At that thought, her cheeks heated. She hoped Luke would assume her redness came from the fire.

  The minute she took the envelope, the writing jumped out at her. To the twins’ future father. Could her face get any hotter?

  “Isn’t it rather odd to address an envelope like that?” Luke asked. “Surely she’d know the name of the babies’ father. Although the word ‘future’ makes it seem as if she has someone else in mind.”

  She did have someone else in mind. You. How did Elizabeth break the truth?

  “Umm.” Flustered, she focused on unwrapping the baby she held. “The letter in my pocket explains that too.”

  Reading it from a piece of paper would be a little easier than looking Luke in the eye and
saying, The blue letter’s meant for you. The teen mom wants you as the babies’ future father. If she held the other letter, she could keep her gaze on the message rather than Luke’s face. She’d have enough trouble holding back her tears.

  “I really need to change the babies first.” The longer she put off discussing the teen mom’s intent, the better.

  “Of course.” Luke opened the package of diapers and handed her one. “I’m guessing you need pins for those.”

  Unable to look at him, she only nodded. “And—and some diaper cream.”

  He picked up the tube and two diaper pins. When he passed them to her, their fingers brushed, and sparks flashed through her. She almost dropped both items. For a fleeting moment, she wished she’d stocked her nursery with disposable diapers. But then she would have missed out on that thrill.

  The diapers brought up the memory of choosing this package in the secondhand shop with Mamm and Sarah. How excited she’d been that day!

  And she’d dreamed of holding her baby on Christmas Day, surrounded by family. Now here she was on Christmas Day, changing diapers on a stranger’s twins. Babies she’d soon have to give up. And she didn’t even know their names.

  Elizabeth blinked back tears.

  “Are you all right?” Luke asked. He still stood there, staring down at her as if studying her every move.

  She couldn’t lie. She wasn’t all right, and maybe she never would be. Giving a noncommittal shrug, she unsnapped the legs of the pink sleeper.

  “I guess it’s hard for you to care for babies when . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “It is.” Her words came out thick with tears.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She waved a hand to show he didn’t need to feel sorry for her, but then she wondered if it appeared as if she were dismissing his kindness.

  Rather than taking offense, Luke knelt beside the cradle and lifted the other twin. Once again, his big hand cradled the tiny head, and the fluttering that started in Elizabeth’s chest spread to her stomach. She forced herself to look away.

  “I’ll take care of this one.”

  “You don’t have to.” Was he doing it because he pitied her?