by Amy Clipston
“I did as soon as the food settles. I ate so much I might vomit . . .” Rocky’s grin spread. “Not the most romantic thing I’ve ever said to a girl.”
The potential existed that she might do the same, but it wouldn’t be from playing games. Frannie tightened her shawl around her shoulders and opened the door. “And there’s been a lot of them, I’m sure.”
With his long legs he caught up with her all too quickly, zipping up his black leather bomber jacket as he went. “A few, I won’t deny it. But none like you.”
Frannie had no doubt of that. She pounded down the back porch steps and lengthened her own stride, picking her way around rain puddles and dodging droopy nopals that didn’t care for the winter weather’s penchant for hiding the sun. They walked in silence, Rocky’s last statement ping-ponging between them. She truly didn’t know what to say so she said nothing.
At the stand of mesquite and live oak that separated Mordecai’s property from the Hostetlers’, Rocky caught her hand. His fingers slipped between hers and tightened. He stopped walking, forcing her to do the same. “About what I said the other day at the auction.”
“The other day? That was three weeks ago.” She tugged at her hand, but he wouldn’t give it up. “A person doesn’t say that and then let three weeks go by.”
“I had no choice.”
She swiped at her face with her other hand. “I know.”
She did know. That was the trouble.
“I meant it.”
“I know.”
“I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“Me too.” She gazed at his face, memorizing the way his curls sprang up around his ball cap, damp and wiry. “I took a job as Susan’s helper at the school.”
“You did?” Uncertainty washed over his face. “I thought—”
“Single girls take that job, that’s what you thought?”
“Sort of. I mean, it was kind of understood.”
“It is.”
“So you’re thinking you’ll remain single.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” Her knees shook, but she forced one foot to move, then the other, until she stood in his space. “I love you too.”
“And what does that have to do with you working at the school?” He took a step toward her, enveloping her in that tantalizing Rocky scent. “Exactly?”
“It means that if Leroy decides you should go back to Missouri and never see me again, I’ll abide by his decision.” His fingers tightened, the white knuckles matching her own smaller ones. “I’ll ask you to do the same.”
“I will.” The words sounded raw, his voice husky. “I promised myself I wouldn’t keep you from your faith or your family.”
“Joseph isn’t coming around anymore. He was more interested in Aenti Abigail’s cooking than in me anyway. Says I’m too lippy.”
“You are lippy.” The muscles in Rocky’s jaw contracted. His breathing quickened. “You’ll not court another? That’s what you’re saying?”
“I love you. That’s that.”
His free hand touched her face. He shook his head. “I never thought loving someone would make me so crazy.”
“You know how to pick them, I guess.”
He laughed, more pain than mirth in the sound. “Don’t I, though?”
“Look at it this way. You’ll be home for the holidays with your family, instead of missing them on days like today.”
“Missing you instead.”
She acknowledged the truth of that statement with a quick, hard hug, stepping back before he could respond. “We shouldn’t make it harder.”
His arms came out, then dropped to his sides. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t come around anymore.”
“I may only have a few weeks left and you want me to waste the chance to spend time with you?”
“We can’t court unless Leroy decides you’ll stay. It’s best that we not see each other until he makes a decision.”
“I’ll get to say good-bye?”
Mourning already soaked his words. Don’t make it worse. “We’ll see.”
“I have two more sessions with Leroy and then the interview.”
“I know. Mordecai mentioned it.” To Aunt Abigail. But in front of Frannie, giving her the gift of knowing what was going on. “That means you’ll be here through Christmas.”
“Yes.”
“A sweet time of year to be with family.”
“My family’s here.” He wrapped his long arms around her in a bear hug against his chest. His heart beat in her ear. His breath touched her forehead, warming her. “You’re my family.”
“Rocky.”
His arms dropped, leaving her cold and bereft in a gray, sunless day. “We better get back to the house.”
They walked side by side, not touching, but Frannie savored the lovely sensation that he still held her hand. All the way home.
CHAPTER 13
Rocky paused on the school porch to remove his ball cap. Balancing the pan of pumpkin bars Mrs. Cotter had made against his chest, he used one trembling hand to slick back his unruly hair. Leroy would make a decision in the next few days. The interview had taken only an hour after all those long, frustrating days of study and discussion. Depending on Leroy’s decision, the Christmas pageant might be Rocky’s last gathering with folks he’d come to like, admire, even love.
Including Frannie. If he were anyone else, he would rue the day he’d trotted into Callie’s Bakery and Restaurant in Jamesport, Missouri, to see this skinny girl with hair the color of carrots and more freckles than a guy could count hefting a rubber bin of dirty dishes almost as big as she was. He would never regret meeting Frannie Mast. Everything that followed had made him a better man—a better person—with greater faith, new friends, a passing knowledge of south Texas and all that region encompassed. It had brought him love, bittersweet though it might be in the end.
If Leroy decided against allowing him to join the church, Rocky would have to go back to Missouri, whether he liked it or not. He’d agreed to that provision. He must’ve been out of his mind. The pan of pumpkin bars weighed heavy in his hands. Laughter and chatter wafted from the building. Another buggy pulled in next to his. Time to get in there and get it over with.
Enjoy it while he could, better yet.
The door opened and Caleb grinned up at him. “Whatcha doing standing out there? It’s cold. We’re getting ready to start.”
“Cold for south Texas. This would be balmy weather up north.” Rocky took a breath and summoned a smile. “Merry Christmas.”
Inside, a wood-burning stove created a warm glow that matched the happy faces that filled the room. It might not seem cold to him, but these folks wore coats. A chorus of Merry Christmas’s greeted him. Mordecai, Deborah, Phineas, Abigail, even Naomi Glick seemed to have put aside differences for the moment. After setting the pumpkin bars on a table already loaded with sweets, Rocky took his time, made the rounds, greeted each one, memorizing faces and making memories to carry home.
Frannie offered a tiny half wave from across the room. She wore her Sunday gray dress and had managed to arrive without a single stain on her apron. Her hair behaved itself behind a clean, neat kapp. He nodded. No sense in getting her in any more trouble than he already had. They’d agreed not to see each other, and they’d kept their word over the past few weeks. A simple hello wouldn’t be too much, would it? He sidestepped little Timothy King and angled his way past the second row of benches.
“You should have a brownie. They’re really good.” Joseph stepped in front of him. “I he
ard Hazel say Frannie made them, but I’ll believe that when I see her mixing the batter.”
Rocky looked over the shorter man’s shoulder. Frannie sank onto a bench between Rebekah and Abigail. “I was just going to—”
“Say hello?” Joseph inched closer. His voice dropped. “Don’t spoil the night for her. Half of courting is knowing when and where.”
“I’m not courting.”
“I know.” Joseph chucked him on the back. “That’s what she says.”
“Really, I—”
Susan clapped her hands twice. Silence fell as her scholars trotted to the front of the room and disappeared behind sheets that had been tacked up across one corner for a makeshift backstage. Much giggling and whispering ensued. Rocky swallowed his retort. Truth be told, the man was right. This was the crux of the matter. He couldn’t choose the Plain life for Frannie’s sake. It had to be for the sake of his own faith. He inhaled and lowered his head. Gott, Thy will be done.
The children sauntered from behind the sheet in their costumes. Caleb made a fine Joseph. Leroy and Naomi’s Sally struggled to straighten her head covering while nestling a baby doll against her skinny chest. Mary and the infant Jesus. Sweet.
Their enactment of the “no room at the inn” scene brought smiles to the faces in the audience. Singing of Christmas songs followed. What they lacked in musical talent, these youngsters made up for with their enthusiasm. Rocky found himself watching the faces in the audience. The Amish didn’t have a speck of pride in them, but he could pick out the parents, the way they watched their children, the way they smiled with pleasure to see them celebrate the birth of Christ. God incarnate sent to earth to die for each one of them.
Such goodness. Such sweetness. He bowed his head and swiped at his face. Good Lord, Father, Abba, give me strength. Whatever Leroy decides, I know it will be the right thing. If I need to go home, so be it. I’ll go because I know You’ll be with me wherever I am.
Abigail and Mordecai’s little Hazel rounded out the show with a cute poem she’d written with the help of her classmates. One hand on her cheek as if to hide her face, she managed to make it all the way through with only one prompting from Susan. Then she ran from the impromptu stage right into her mother’s arms. Cheering and clapping rocked the room with choruses of Merry Christmas and blessings for the New Year.
Rocky swallowed hard, stood, and slapped his hat on his head. No matter what happened, this would be the best Christmas of his life.
Frannie’s hands hurt from clapping. Her throat hurt from holding back tears. Christmas would always be her favorite time of year. Nothing could be allowed to change that. This was not about her. Exactly as Rocky had said on Thanksgiving Day. So eloquently and then he left. She hadn’t seen him since that day a month ago. She’d heard of how he helped bale the last of the hay and chopped wood for the school and helped load the horse trailer with the Kropfs’ furniture when they decided to move back to Carrollton in Missouri after only a year in Bee County. He had to do what God called him to do, as did Leroy. If only Leroy would make a decision, ending her suffering and Rocky’s.
Aunt Abigail turned and leaned close. “Patience is a virtue.”
Indeed. That didn’t make it any easier. Frannie gave Hazel a big hug and a quick shove. “Go get a brownie before they’re all gone. Bring me a cutout cookie with lots of frosting.”
Hazel frowned. “But I want that one too.”
“If there’s enough, you can have one of each.”
Grinning from ear to ear, the little girl took off. To be so young and innocent that a cookie could make her day. Frannie allowed herself to do what she hadn’t done all evening. She sneaked a glance across the room. Rocky stood near the dessert table, a gingersnap the size of his palm in one hand and a cup of hot chocolate in the other. He looked content.
As he should.
“Don’t even think about it.” Deborah offset the sternness of her words with a pat on the shoulder. “You’ve been doing so well, don’t give in now.”
Frannie studied her sneakers. “He looks like a doofus chewing on that big cookie.”
Deborah giggled, sounding like Hazel. “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m trying to put myself in the right frame of mind.”
“You don’t have to say good-bye just yet.”
“You think Leroy will say no?”
“I think Leroy is praying and heeding Gott’s word. He’ll do what is right and wise.”
The ache in Frannie’s throat threatened to choke her. “That’s what I’m hoping.”
Rocky tucked the last bite of cookie in his mouth. He picked up a napkin and handed it to Hazel. They seemed to be having a conversation. He rubbed his bare chin, looking serious. After a minute or two, he placed a cookie, and then another, on the napkin. He patted Hazel’s head and gave her a little shove before turning back to the table without looking in Frannie’s direction.
The girl trotted back to Frannie. She held the napkin with both hands as if conveying a precious gift. “Rocky says to give you the star. He says it reminds him of you because you shine so bright.”
Frannie closed her eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“Are you going to eat it? If you’re not, I will.”
Frannie opened her eyes and took the cookie from her cousin. “Of course I’ll eat it.”
She lifted the cookie to her mouth and glanced across the room, hoping Rocky would be watching.
He wasn’t.
Leroy stood between her and Rocky. They were talking; rather, Leroy talked, and Rocky simply nodded. The older man’s hand came out. They shook.
Then Rocky shrugged on his coat without looking at a single soul.
And he left.
Leroy trudged across the room. For the first time, Frannie realized he was limping a bit. He looked old and tired. He tipped his hat to her and smiled. “Merry Christmas.”
Joy dawned in those words. No matter what happened, God still reigned in heaven and on earth. “Merry Christmas.”
Leroy limped on, this time stopping to talk to Uncle Mordecai, who nodded. Her uncle began to circle the room, speaking to the older folks, the married ones. After a moment Frannie realized he was speaking to all those who’d been baptized. The members of the church. She sidled up next to Abigail. “What’s going on?”
Abigail settled onto the bench, a paper plate filled with Christmas goodies in her hands. “Leroy has called a meeting.”
“For when?”
“Now. Everyone’s here. He’s putting it to a vote.”
“Everyone will decide?”
“He says that’s the proper way. Take Rebekah and Hazel on home. We’ll get a ride from Phineas.”
Pinpricks of purple and light flickered in Frannie’s eyes. She tried to breathe and found she couldn’t.
“Go on, child.” Aenti Abigail smiled up at her. “Go home. Say your prayers and remember, Gott’s will be done.”
She wanted to ask how her aenti would vote, but Frannie didn’t. That, too, was between Aunt Abigail and Gott.
She tried to form her own prayer as she helped Hazel bundle up and slipped into her own shawl. The only word that came was Please.
CHAPTER 14
Chores first, of course. Rocky didn’t mind. He dumped feed into the horses’ trough and inhaled the crisp morning air. He’d awakened with such a sense of peace. Even though Leroy hadn’t said he could stay, he hadn’t sent him away. His handshake had been firm, his words of farewell kind. Either way, Mordecai’s last-minute invitation to join his family for Christmas Day had been the frosting on the cake. Christ
mas with Frannie. Truly a gift all its own. His gifts for them were small, a new faceless doll for Hazel, a baseball mitt for Caleb, basketballs for the rest of the boys, orange spice tea for Abigail, a book of crossword puzzles for Mordecai. He had nothing for Frannie because he simply couldn’t decide yet what that gift should be. He would give her something special before he left for Missouri.
If this was to be their only Christmas together, it had to be a special gift. Memorable. Lasting. He would figure it out. Just not today. She would understand.
“Come on, it’s time for breakfast,” Caleb hollered from the barn door. “Hurry up. We get presents now. Maybe we can play some basketball later.”
Rocky had to laugh at the boy’s exuberance. Kids were all alike when it came to gifts. Even Plain kinner.
He went to the kitchen first to wash his hands. The water was icy. He ducked his face and splashed it, trying to wash off the sensation that this would be the last time he did each one of these tasks with these people. A tiny piece of tissue floated in the water. He’d forgotten the wound along his jawline. Learning to shave with a razor had taken a daily toll on his face. Maybe that particular struggle had ended. He straightened and grabbed a threadbare dish towel from the counter, taking his time memorizing the warm kitchen. A stack of pancakes as tall as a toddler sat warming on the stove next to a huge pan of scrambled eggs. The house smelled of maple syrup and fresh baked biscuits and bacon. His mouth watered.
“Come on, come into the front room.” Hazel tugged on his hand. “Your seat is next to Caleb’s.”
Rocky followed. He sank into his chair, glad to sit. He’d never felt so blessed or so welcome or so sad.
“Presents first?” Hazel danced around Mordecai, keeping him from making much progress from the kitchen to the table. “Presents are first, aren’t they?”
“Not if I stumble over you and break my neck.” Mordecai scooped her up and carried her on his hip like a sack of potatoes. She shrieked, her giggles contagious. His low rumble of laughter mingled with the girl’s. “Patience is virtue, my child.”