An Amish Second Christmas

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An Amish Second Christmas Page 5

by Shelley Shepard Gray

York and Melissa had a toddler, a baby, and two demanding jobs. Yet they’d still gone out of their way to make a special place for her. “Have you gotten any sleep in the last twenty-four hours?” she teased.

  “Not much, but it wasn’t because of this project,” she replied with a chuckle. “Little Miss Dorothy didn’t feel like sleeping last night. Or the night before that.”

  “It’s gut I’m here then. As soon as I get settled, I’ll help you with our tiny night owl.”

  Melissa shook her head. “Absolutely not! You are going to lie down and let York and me fuss over you.”

  “Nee! I mean, I couldn’t let you do that.” It was one thing to accept the room, but there was no way she was going to shirk her duties, too.

  “I’m afraid we’re not giving you a choice. You have stitches, a hurt foot, and a slight concussion. Besides, remember what I told you over a year ago? We’re family.”

  “Jah, but—”

  “And not to sound mean, but you really do look exhausted, Hannah. You’re covered in bruises, and the doctors said you have minor burns and abrasions on your arms. You need rest.”

  “You are making me sound much worse than I am. They wouldn’t have let me leave the hospital if I was in such bad shape.”

  “Hannah, the doctors and nurses let you leave the hospital. They did not say you could go back to work, however. They expected you to rest and heal.” Melissa drew herself up and said firmly, “No, the most I’m going to let you do is pet your dog.”

  And just like that, the reminder of her sweet, brave boxer brought tears to her eyes. “Daisy is here?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. She’s not, but I did see her in the yard this morning. Rob said he was going to bring her by later.” She paused. “I know we talked . . . but are you up for that?”

  Hannah wasn’t sure if Melissa was referring to Hannah playing with her boxer or seeing Rob again so soon. She supposed it didn’t matter, though. She really was ready to move forward in her life, and that meant continuing to repair the rift between her and Rob and settling into the Rosses’ home.

  And, of course, she wanted to see Daisy. That dog had been her lifeline this past year.

  “I’m up for everything,” she said at last.

  Melissa still looked skeptical. “All right. I’ll let Rob know.” She shook a finger at her. “But that means you need to lie down for at least an hour.”

  “Jah, Mamm,” she said with more than a touch of sarcasm.

  “That’s more like it,” Melissa said with a grin. “Now I’d better go rescue York. Christopher has been wanting to play blocks and watch Dora the Explorer.”

  She strode out of the room without another word. Hannah listened to her footsteps on the stairs, then the faint click of her loafers on the wood floor overhead.

  Taking advantage of the quiet, Hannah walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. The lights were so bright at the hospital, one look in the mirror had scared her. Now, in the softer glow of the small bathroom, Hannah studied her face.

  She had a fierce bruise on her temple and another on her cheek. She had a bandage covering her stitches from the gash she’d gotten when she’d passed out and faint smudges under her eyes. So, she looked like she’d been in an accident.

  Or, perhaps, in a fire that had destroyed everything she owned.

  Padding back into her new bedroom, Hannah knelt down beside the bed and tried to be grateful. Resting her weight on her knees, she gave thanks for the firemen and the Rosses and her family, who, while demanding, loved her. She gave thanks for Daisy, who was responsible for her waking up, and the doctors and nurses who had taken care of her in the ambulance and the hospital.

  Then, when she stopped to take a breath, she finally allowed herself time to mourn her losses. Her grandmother’s quilt. The pretty, scallop-edged dishes that she’d paid too much money for and were difficult to clean but she loved so much.

  Her dresses, the coat her father had given her when she’d first started working. The keepsake box from Paul. Less important but still heartbreaking to lose was her basket of needlework projects, some of which she’d been working on for years. Her pots and pans, the blankets and bedding, the glider rocking chair she’d just purchased.

  Slowly getting to her feet, she reached for a tissue and blew her nose, then climbed into the comfortable bed and wrapped her arms around herself. And right then and there, she began to cry. Real, sharp, painful tears that she hadn’t wanted to feel. But experience told her they were as necessary as prayer and laughter.

  It was okay to be sad. It was okay to mourn items. It was okay to feel the loss and wish things were different. In an hour or so, when she walked out of the room, she would do her best to smile and concentrate on the future. But for now?

  She would allow herself just a little bit more time to cry. Surely the Lord would understand.

  * * *

  Four hours later, Hannah was feeling far more refreshed. She’d taken a two-hour nap, showered, and gone to the kitchen for a warm bowl of soup.

  Melissa had served it to her on the couch and little Christopher had snuggled next to her after promising his mommy that he would let Hannah eat.

  Sitting in the beautifully decorated living room, with its tall, nine-foot, Christmas tree beribboned and twinkling to their right, Hannah had at last felt like herself again.

  After she finished her light meal, she’d read Christopher a story and then fed Dot a bottle while Melissa did the dishes.

  Shortly after York took their kids to his parents’ house for a visit, Rob and Daisy arrived.

  “Daisy!” Hannah called out the moment she spied them.

  Daisy wriggled out of Rob’s hold and bounded toward her. Seconds later, Hannah was wiping off wet doggy kisses.

  “Hey now, Daisy,” Rob said as he grabbed hold of the boxer’s collar. “You’ve got to go easy on Hannah here. She’s not a hundred percent yet.”

  When Daisy whined, then attempted to squirm out of his grip, Hannah intervened. “It’s all right, Rob. Let her go. I think I need this.”

  “All right, but be careful.”

  Daisy pawed at Hannah’s knee, then snuggled closer. So happy to see her sweet pup, Hannah wrapped her arms around the excited dog and pressed her head against Daisy’s body. “It’s all right. Before you know it, we’ll be back together.” Where, she didn’t know. She just hoped she could find someplace within her price range that took dogs sooner rather than later.

  Daisy responded with a lick to Hannah’s cheek.

  Hannah chuckled again as she leaned back on the couch. “Thank you, Rob. She is the best medicine.”

  “Anytime, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart. Unable to help it, Hannah felt warmth spread through her again. It was becoming obvious that Daisy wasn’t the only thing that was going to help her recover.

  Chapter 9

  Hannah was blushing, just the way she used to. The sight was so familiar yet unexpected, it made him pause. Just so he could revel in the memories. For a few seconds Rob felt as if everything between them were good again.

  That wasn’t true, of course. Not much between them was good. However, her reaction did allow him to hold on to the idea that it could be.

  While Daisy continued to enjoy her mistress’s attention, craning her neck so Hannah could scratch under her ears, Rob sat down next to Hannah on the couch.

  “Rob?”

  “Just taking a seat. That’s all.”

  Hannah darted him a confused look but didn’t move away, and for that he was glad. The fact was, he wanted to be near her. Maybe almost as much as that boxer did. Hannah made him feel better, just by being herself.

  Hearing her laughter, her light, almost musical voice, was like medicine for him—medicine that he was not going to take for granted.

  He had really missed her.

  After cooing at the dog a little bit longer, Hannah curled one leg on the couch and turned toward him. “I hope Daisy hasn’t been too much trouble. She c
an sometimes be a lot of work, especially at night.” Looking hesitant, she asked, “Did she wake you up last night?”

  “Only for a couple of minutes.” Or an hour or two.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know why she always wants to go out at two or three in the morning.”

  Rob shrugged. “I have another shift tomorrow. I’ve got someone coming over to play with her and Rose for a few hours in the afternoon and then I’ll put her in her crate. She’ll be fine.”

  “Hopefully you won’t have to watch her too much longer.”

  He was privately hoping that he would. He was willing to do whatever it took to be firmly back in Hannah’s life. “Don’t worry about it.” He reached out and rubbed the dog’s head. Daisy was now sprawled on the floor next to the couch. “She’s a good dog, Hannah.”

  “She is.” Glancing down at her, Hannah murmured, “She’s such a happy hund.”

  “That’s because she’s with you.”

  Her blue eyes darted to his before they warmed. “Thank you for saying that.”

  He watched her closely, ready to tease her again. But then the puffiness around her eyes registered. It wasn’t from lack of sleep or the residual effects of the fire.

  She’d been crying.

  Why? Just from everything? She had lost her home and most of her belongings—of course she’d be sad because of that. Or was she in pain?

  “Rob, is everything all right?”

  “Hmm? Oh. Yeah.” He shook his head and tried to sound like the author he was. Surely he had some decent words inside his head somewhere. “I mean, there’s no need to thank me for telling you the truth.”

  She shifted again. “Enough about me. Tell me about firefighting.”

  “All right. Well, you know why I moved here.”

  “To get over your girlfriend’s death.”

  “Yeah. I did move here from Chicago so I wasn’t reminded of Julia so much. But that wasn’t the only reason.”

  “No?”

  “It was a lot of things. I needed a change. I needed to do something new for myself.” Thinking back to that time, when he’d been so tired and weighed down by too many responsibilities and city living, he continued. “I think I needed to be a little bit uncomfortable.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “You wanted to make yourself uncomfortable?”

  “Yeah. I decided I needed to shake myself up.” Thinking about the person he’d been back then, he shook his head. “No, it was more like I needed to wake myself up.”

  “Hmm.” A faint wrinkle appeared on her brow.

  “Sorry, I guess that sounds crazy.”

  “Nee. I was just thinking that it sounded familiar.”

  He scanned her face. A year ago, he would have asked what she meant, prodded her to tell him more about herself. But now he was too afraid to push her away, so he held his tongue. He cleared his throat. “Well. Anyway, last year, after we broke up, I was kind of at a loss as to what I wanted to do. And after a few weeks of moping and trying to write but only coming up with dreck that I continually deleted, I realized that I needed to do something more with my life. Soon after, I heard that the fire department was about to start a new training class.” He shrugged. “I signed up.”

  “Just like that?”

  Thinking back to that time, he grinned. “Yeah. Get this, two days after I signed up, I went to my first class. It was as if God had decided that He wasn’t going to let me change my mind.”

  She leaned closer, her eyes bright again. “Well, what happened?”

  Hannah smelled faintly of gardenias. After pushing that thought away, he spoke. “I realized that I had made the right decision.” He paused, letting himself appreciate her scent for a few seconds longer before moving a few inches away. “I’m not going to lie—it was hard. The training, the sense of responsibility. Shoot, even the grunt work. I’d gotten kind of spoiled and soft.”

  “But you didn’t give up.”

  “No, I didn’t. And now I love it almost as much as writing.”

  “I suppose the Lord led you to it then.”

  He’d never thought that. He’d used Hannah as his excuse. Julia’s death, too—since she’d been killed in a car accident. He even told himself that he had too much time on his hands, so he needed to be busier.

  But he had a feeling she was right. The Lord didn’t make mistakes and He’d certainly guided him through quite a few situations lately.

  And maybe the Lord was guiding him back to Hannah again. Maybe they were both ready, since they were now older and a little wiser.

  Seeing how vulnerable she looked, how her emotion seemed to match the vulnerability he was feeling, he shifted again. Allowed himself to move closer.

  He took her hand and clasped it in between his.

  “Rob?”

  “I can’t help myself, Hannah. Even though neither of us knows what will happen next, I need you to know that I’m glad I’m sitting here with you.”

  She looked down at their hands and seemed to come to a decision. “I’m glad, too,” she whispered as she met his gaze.

  Then she smiled.

  It was a real smile, wide, unguarded. A little wonky looking. And because of that, it was beautiful. Just as familiar and missed as her blushes.

  Unable to help himself, he raised one of her hands and brought it to his lips. When she didn’t pull away, he kissed her knuckles.

  She inhaled sharply.

  After pressing his lips to her hand once again, he smiled back at her. And decided to keep her hand nestled firmly in his own. If only for a few minutes longer.

  Chapter 10

  “Christopher, you are a mighty good helper today,” Hannah said as she took Dorothy’s pacifier from his outstretched palm.

  Christopher, still a toddler but looking like a mighty responsible man, nodded. “Dot is tired.”

  “Is she?”

  “Uh-huh. It’s her nap time.”

  “What about you? Are you tired?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not a baby.”

  She stood up and carefully put a sleeping Dot in the pack and play in the corner of the room. Then gazed at her favorite little boy in the world—who was now acting mighty grown-up. “I know you are almost three, but I know that even three-year-olds take naps in the afternoon.”

  “But I’m not tired. Daddy didn’t make me sleep yesterday.”

  No, York had not.

  And they’d all paid the price for that!

  Boy, had they. By five o’clock, Christopher had been a pouty, whiney mess. He didn’t want to pick up his toys, wash his face, eat his supper, or listen to anyone. He’d even dissolved into a full-blown temper tantrum when Hannah had told him to leave poor Daisy and Rose alone.

  The dogs were good-natured, but it had been obvious that they’d needed a break from tiny hands fussing with them nonstop.

  After four or five minutes of tears and foot stomping, he’d thrown himself on the floor, kicked his legs, and bellowed his irritation for a good eight minutes.

  Hannah had stood over him and watched the little boy wear himself out. When York had attempted to pick Christopher up, Hannah had even dared to tell him to go sit down.

  To her amazement, York had done exactly that.

  Christopher had not been happy to be ignored but had soon fallen asleep. Figuring a nap on soft carpet wouldn’t hurt him one bit, Hannah had covered him up with a warm blanket.

  When Hannah overheard Melissa tell her husband that he was a very good doctor but had a thing to learn about being firm with his son, she’d privately agreed.

  Today, she’d sent both Melissa and York to work. There was no way Hannah was going to allow these children’s schedules to run amuck if she could help it.

  “Christopher, it is nap time now.” When his brow furrowed, she added, “That means you are going to lie on your bed with a book. We’re having quiet time.”

  “For how long?”

  “Thirty minutes.” She smiled, hoping to soften his pout. �
�That’s a half an hour, Chris.” She also knew from experience that his thirty-minute break would likely turn into an hour’s nap.

  “Like always?”

  “Jah, just like always.”

  “Okay.”

  “Gut boy.” She allowed him to pick out a book and helped him take off his socks. Then she tucked him in his bed and handed him the book.

  “You could read to me, Hannah.”

  “I could, but then it wouldn’t be quiet time, now would it?”

  She walked out and closed the door behind her. Just as she’d done a week ago, before she’d had her accident, when her employers had taken the children’s schedules into their own hands.

  Experience told her that he would be sound asleep within ten minutes and would sleep at least an hour. That meant she now had a whole hour to relax, as well. Even better, no one was around to watch her limp, wince, or lie down on the couch.

  Because of that, she allowed herself a little moan as she gingerly shifted to her side and closed her eyes. She was exhausted.

  She hadn’t been sleeping well. Every time she closed her eyes, she dreamed of Daisy trying to tug her awake. But unfortunately, half the time in her dreams Daisy wasn’t successful. Hannah would jolt awake, sure that flames were biting at her toes or that Daisy was stuck and hurting.

  Or that neither of them could breathe because of the thick cloud of smoke.

  Then there were all the dreams involving Paul dying or her being responsible for Rob getting hurt. Yes, every bit of these nightmares was awful. Worse, she didn’t have any idea how to make them go away. All she seemed capable of doing was praying and hoping that they would end soon.

  She needed that.

  Now, though, with Daisy over at Rob’s, Christopher upstairs in his room, and Dot asleep across the room, Hannah allowed herself to relax a little more. She let herself close her eyes and look at the twinkling lights of the Rosses’ Christmas tree and imagine how things might one day be different.

  If she ever found a way to move forward.

  Chapter 11

  Rob knew he really ought to say something to York and Melissa about installing better locks on their doors. Or, better yet, he should encourage Hannah to make sure she locked all the doors before deciding to take a nap.

 

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