An Amish Country Christmas

by Hubbard, Charlotte; King, Naomi

Chapter Eleven

  Bram’s pulse thrummed as they entered the Dutch Country Buffet about half an hour later. He was hungry, yes, but not just for the wide variety of food being served up on the steam tables at the rear of the small restaurant: without a word needing to be exchanged, Mary had taken his hand at the door while Martha had slid into the booth ahead of Nate, across the table from them.

  He knew Mary now . . . could feel the subtle differences between her and her twin as the girls talked and laughed. Sure, they both had blue eyes and a sprinkling of freckles and thick, auburn hair but their interests were different. Their views of the world and where they fit into it came from different angles, too. And as his brother slipped an arm around Martha and kissed her temple, Bram was convinced that this day would have a far-reaching effect on their future.

  “Get a room!” he teased when Martha returned Nate’s affection.

  “Or maybe we should.” Mary winked at him, gesturing toward the window. “Seems there’s an old motel right across the road—”

  “Oh, don’t give him any ideas,” Nate warned. “If your parents believe we’re fine, upstanding young fellows, we don’t want to blow it by—”

  As their waitress approached, they nipped this playful topic in the bud. From the looks of the middle-aged lady dressed in black jeans and a glittery red sweatshirt with Santa Claus on the front, the Plain owners had taken the holiday off. Or perhaps the owners were English, using the “Dutch” part of their name to capitalize on how folks associated Amish and Mennonites with the tastiest homemade food. “Buffet for me, please,” Bram told her. “And keep the Coke comin’.”

  “Jah, same here,” the other three said.

  As he heaped his plate with crispy fried chicken, pot roast, cheesy potatoes, hot mixed vegetables, and then put a sampling of the cold salads on a second plate, Bram felt excited yet amazingly contented. When he and Mary returned to the table first, he took the opportunity to sneak a kiss. “I’m real glad you picked me, honey-girl,” he murmured as he drank in her flushed cheeks.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Mary murmured. “I’m happy that both of you fellows came for us today, and that you’re pairing up the same way we feel it should be. Martha decided on Nate from the moment she met you two in the mercantile, you know.”

  Bram chuckled and dug into his hot food. “Fine by me. You’re the cutest.”

  “No, you are. Your mamm was right all along, whether or not Nate likes it.”

  He flashed her a smile, hoping she read his silent message of appreciation . . . of feelings he wasn’t yet ready to express. But he couldn’t deny that Mary Coblentz was the most exciting, desirable young woman he’d ever met, either.

  Martha slid into the booth ahead of Nate, and for a few moments they all ate as though they’d gone days without food. Was it his imagination, or did this meal taste especially good . . . even if it wasn’t nearly as fresh and bountiful as what most Amish families would be enjoying for Second Christmas? He had no doubt that Mary could prepare a wonderful dinner . . . hoped he would get to eat one of her meals soon . . .

  “You know, maybe we should rethink spending the rest of the day running the roads,” Martha remarked in a pensive tone. “Is it me, or is this chocolate cake too dry?”

  “It’s not nearly as gut as the birthday cake we left at home,” Mary agreed. “Mamma’s coconut filling and pour-over chocolate glaze tastes a lot more special than what we’ve got here.”

  Martha gazed at Nate then, thinking. “And maybe we’re missing out on a chance to let the folks visit with you Kanagy brothers. After all, they really liked you—”

  “They were just sour on the way we behaved, switching places to fool you,” Mary said.

  “—and considering how early it gets dark on these winter days,” Martha went on, “we’ll soon have to figure out what to do . . . where to stay.”

  Nate’s face lit up. “I was wondering what we should do for the night, since I’m not nearly ready to head for home,” he admitted. “No need to put up that extra bed or shift things all around again. Fine by me if I sleep on a sofa, or stack blankets on the floor.”

  “We could get rooms at the motel across the street—one for you girls and another for Nate and me,” Bram quickly clarified.

  As one, the twins wrinkled their noses. Martha shook her head. “No matter how you slice it—”

  “Mamma and Dat would see that as the wrong kind of goody to be serving up,” Mary finished. “And you know, if we took Taffy on home, and told Noah about the rig’s wheel being repaired, it would save poor James a lot of hassle from him. And with you fellows there as guests again, he’d not get into such a snit.”

  “And our brother Owen wouldn’t quiz you about your intentions. Now that he and Phoebe Lambright are taking their instructions to join the church,” Martha said with a raised eyebrow, “he’s gotten a lot more um, involved in who we twins spend our time with.”

  “Even if it’s really none of his beeswax.” Mary set her fork down on a plate of food that was only half eaten, and looked from Bram to his brother. “How do you feel about going home with us again? We don’t want you to think you always have to do things our way.”

  “Even if our way is better,” Martha teased.

  “Works for me,” Nate said as he slipped his arm around her. “If you girls want us to spend the evening with your family, I see that as a real gut sign of, um . . . things to come.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” Bram grasped Mary’s hand beneath the table. He was feeling awfully comfortable, even if it was way too soon to be thinking anything they did at the Coblentz home tonight might affect their futures. After all, they’d only met these twins two days ago. “If you want to ask your mamm and dat first—”

  “Nope,” Mary insisted.

  “They’ll be gut with it. And I see it as a way to finish celebrating our birthday,” Martha went on. “I can tell you that turning eighteen wasn’t much fun after you fellows left us yesterday.”

  Bram liked the sound of that. He pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket and brought up his home phone number on the screen. “I’ll let the folks know what we’re—jah, Dat?” he said when his father picked up out in the sheep barn. “Nate and I rescued the Coblentz girls and towed their buggy to the Graber shop. So now they’ve asked us to stay over again.”

  There was a pause, but then his father chuckled. “Gonna get it right this time? I could tell things didn’t go well before, but you weren’t sayin’ who was to blame.”

  “And it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re all gut friends again, havin’ a fine time,” Bram replied as he met the three gazes that were focused on him. “I’ll give you another ring when we’re on the way home—”

  “My word, somebody there must be havin’ quite an effect on ya, if you’ll be keepin’ your mamm and me updated, son. That’s a first.”

  Bram rolled his eyes. “What can I say? Nate’s got his arm around a feisty redhead, lookin’ mighty, um—interested in her. So I’d best stick around and keep track of him, ain’t so? Bye now.”

  He clicked off his phone, shaking his head. Was it indeed a sign of things to come, that his dat sensed he and Nate were more serious about the Coblentz twins than they’d been about other girls? Their parents hadn’t known Roberta Hershberger very well, but they’d felt awfully bad for Nate when she’d taken up with a fellow who’d come into a farm with a big house on it. That was behind them, though. Obviously not meant to be.

  “Ready?” Bram fished his wallet from his pocket and tossed a twenty at his brother. “Seems I’ve just made us a few points at home, so you can cover the rest of this bill, Nate. I’m guessin’ Dat’s already on his way into the house to tell Mamm about how you’re finally comin’ out of your cave, leavin’ Roberta behind. So see, girls? You’ve done us a big favor, askin’ us back to be with your family.”

  Mary gave him the sweetest smile. “Not that we’ll spend every moment at home,” she hinted.

&n
bsp; “Not by a long shot!” Martha chimed in. “Jacob and Joanna will get nosy—”

  “And Noah will have to get in his licks about the broken wheel.”

  “—so after we stick around for supper and more of that birthday cake—”

  “—we’ll have to show you around the farm,” Mary continued with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “And this time Preacher Abe won’t come barging in with his lantern.”

  “Now there’s something to look forward to.” Bram took Mary’s hand and slid out of the booth ahead of her. “And who knows? Maybe if I tell him you girls are making Nate and me toe the mark now, he won’t let on to the folks that I was ready to jump the fence.”

  As the bell above the café’s door jingled when they left, Bram realized that he had just mentioned leaving the Old Order in the past tense . . .

  But when Mary took his elbow and gazed up at him, that change of attitude felt pretty good.

  Nate drove in a loop, on snow-packed back roads and county highways, allowing the fineness of this day to settle in as they made their way back toward Cedar Creek. While he’d been ready to tromp Bram’s toe under the table, for telling their dat that he’d taken such a shine to Martha Coblentz, well—now that Martha sat snuggled against him, with her blue eyes shining as they toured this winter wonderland, he knew Bram had been right. After all, hadn’t he chosen a sleigh as his Christmas present so he could enjoy just such a picture-perfect day with somebody wonderful? And here it was, his unspoken dream come true.

  “What are you thinking?” he whispered. And even though such a question would have backfired in his face had he asked it of Roberta while they courted, Nate felt easy in his soul . . . confident that Martha wouldn’t cut him down or make remarks that seemed hurtful, once he’d thought about them. Until today, he hadn’t realized just how negative his relationship with Roberta had been. It had been all about her.

  Martha eased her head from his shoulder to gaze at him. “We didn’t get to finish our game of True Confessions. Bram and I answered, but not you and Mary—about the most un-Amish thing about you,” she added as a reminder.

  “Ha!” came Mary’s response from the backseat. “You know this about me, Sister, for sure and for certain,” she began in a playful tone, “but you boys had better listen up. I don’t cotton to being told what to do—”

  “No surprise there,” Bram said with a chuckle.

  “—so, where the Scripture talks about wives submitting to their husbands?” she went on. “Well, I’m going to join the church someday, but that total submission thing is not how I see my life going. Especially once Martha and I are running our bed and breakfast. That’s to be our business, and our men won’t figure into it except when we ask them to.”

  “Like for repair work and heavy lifting we can’t do ourselves,” Martha clarified.

  “And I could see the two of you making a real gut go at that, too,” Nate said. “Haven’t noticed any signs for B and B’s hereabouts, so if you get your name out there, and you give your full attention to the little details of servin’ your guests, your place will be a big hit.”

  “Jah, you two are naturals at making folks feel welcome,” Bram agreed.

  For the next few minutes, Nate was content to keep driving, watching Clyde’s muscled haunches as the huge horse pulled them effortlessly along. What should he say about his un-Amish traits? He was already a member of the church in the Willow Ridge district, so it was pointless to let on that he didn’t fit the mold. Yet he should contribute to the conversation . . . play along, if only to convince the three younger people with him that he, too, had expectations and dreams that might go against some stricture of the Old Order. When he felt Martha silently urging him on, he returned her gaze.

  “While I believe that God created the man first, I don’t think it’s His will that the husband should make all the decisions for his family,” Nate murmured. “Just like I don’t think He intended for women to take a backseat where education’s concerned. I admire you for taking those business classes online, Martha.”

  He paused, hoping the rest of his thought came out as the compliment he intended it to be. “It means you won’t be jumping head-first into a bigger project than you can handle. You’ll be ready to keep the books and follow any government regulations, instead of assuming gut food and clean rooms will make you an overnight success. And that way, inspectors can’t come in and shut you down for not following the proper procedures.”

  Martha’s eyes got so wide that Nate nearly fell into them. “Mary and I haven’t told many folks about our dream, on account of how we’re afraid they’ll think we sound too English, or not devoted to raising families. It’s always been a project off in the future somewhere—probably after we marry—but it’s definitely not something that’ll go away. We’re only eighteen, but we want this inn to happen.”

  “Gotta want it,” Bram chimed in from the backseat. “That’s how Nate and I both got into our businesses so young. We didn’t just hang around waiting for the pieces to fall into place. We went to school and went after jobs that’ll support us because we know that farmin’ won’t.”

  “Jah, Dat noticed that about you boys right off.” Martha settled back against the seat then, taking in the dazzling late afternoon as they passed evergreen windbreaks dressed in lacy gowns of snow . . . crossed a one-lane bridge over Cedar Creek, which babbled happily between crystal-lined shores.

  Nate could have watched her all day.

  Chapter Twelve

  Martha relaxed, yet her heart was pounding. Had the quiet, conservative Nate Kanagy actually said he admired her for taking some business classes? She hadn’t even mentioned this coursework to her dat, knowing how he would discourage her—or worse, tell her such classes were altogether wrong for a Plain girl. While Mamma had an inkling that she and Mary would like to run an inn someday, she had dismissed such a dream as something that must come after they became wives and mothers—maybe in the distant future, when they’d finished with wiping noses and packing lunchboxes and guiding the children God had given them.

  Martha sat up taller then, paying closer attention to the countryside. “You know, I’ve lived in Cedar Creek all my life, but I don’t recall ever being down this road,” she remarked quietly.

  “Same here,” Mary said from the backseat. “I’ve not been paying real close attention these past several minutes—”

  “Distracted by the company,” Bram teased.

  “—but I’m not sure where we are.”

  Nate pointed off into the distance. “If my sense of direction serves me, your place is over that way, maybe twenty minutes from here,” he said. “I’ve been taking the long way home, so to speak. Seems the right thing to do, so my brother and I can hold you girls hostage for a while.”

  Martha chuckled. She was indeed Nate’s willing victim on this winter’s afternoon, and the more she talked and listened, the more she felt she was in exactly the right place at the right time. “Jah, things have a way of working out if you give them a chance.”

  She glanced back and saw that Mary hadn’t commented because she was caught up in a kiss . . . and Martha knew firsthand that Bram was a fine kisser, just as she sensed the younger Kanagy brother was the better fit for her more traditional sister, even if he had some wild ideas. She leaned her head on Nate’s shoulder, gratified by the way he nuzzled her temple.

  Then Nate leaned forward. “Now what’s this sign say?” He tugged on the reins until Clyde came to a stop beside a large wooden sign posted at the end of a farm lane. “Looks like this acreage is to be auctioned off . . . sealed bids to be accepted through December thirtieth.”

  “That’s next Monday.” Martha looked beyond the fencerow, which pitched forward beneath the weight of years and a topping of snow. “Pretty sad, ain’t so? The house and the outbuildings need a lot of work.”

  “But the land has a nice feel to it. And there’s space enough for corrals and a horse barn or two,” Nate replied as he studie
d the place.

  “And since it’s on a paved county road, it would be easily accessible for an auction barn,” Bram joined in. “Plenty of room for holding pens and parking—”

  “Total of a hundred and five acres . . . about two-thirds of it tillable,” Nate summarized from the description on the sign. “Plenty enough to raise hay for our own livestock, and maybe some crops to sell.”

  “There’s most likely a gut water source, what with that creek running down there between the trees. Probably groundwater for wells, too,” Bram said as he scooted forward to gaze at the place. “And some big old walnut trees in those hills back there, which could be harvested to bring in some start-up cash.”

  Once again Martha’s heartbeat accelerated. Did these boys stop at every for sale sign they saw, to discuss a potential place to live? Should she allow herself to believe she and Mary might fit into this picture they were painting in their imaginations?

  “So, why are they taking sealed bids instead of holding a regular auction? Or just selling the place with a real estate agent?” Mary asked. “That’s kind of different, ain’t so?”

  “Well, by having an auction, the owner will have his place sold by a certain time, instead of having to wait for the right buyer to come along,” Bram explained.

  “And with a sealed bid auction, you only attract folks ready to put down some money.” Nate turned in the sleigh’s seat to look at both girls. “Instead of dealing with a couple hundred nosy folks tramping around your buildings and grounds, with maybe a handful of serious bidders, you have those bidders making their best offers. It’s a lot simpler.”

  “If the owner doesn’t like any of those offers, he doesn’t have to go with them,” Bram explained. “And if a few potential buyers go above his acceptable price, he can invite those fellas to bid against each other again.”

  “Ah.” Mary nodded and looked out over the snow-covered fields again. “That makes a lot more sense. And then, this real estate agent on the sign is only showing the really interested folks the house and buildings. Saves a lot of time and effort for everybody.”