After all their spirited discussions during the past six months, now he was nervous? It was adorable.
“Ya, Arlan. We can court. You took me on a Christmas buggy ride, and we’re strolling downtown, so I think we’re already courting.” She laughed. “And I like you too.”
“Gut.” He cradled her face. “Very gut, ya?”
She nodded, unable to find her voice.
“With me living on the farm, we’ll have to be careful. I won’t enter the house with you inside unless your Mamm, Red, or Magda is there too.”
“Which is basically all the time.”
“Ya, but still. We’ll have to make sure we live like neighbors—you in the big house and me in the carriage house.”
“Wait, I think I liked being a girlfriend better than being a neighbor. Which is it, Arlan? Pick a lane.” She elbowed him in the side.
He pulled her into a hug. “I pick the one that lets us travel down life’s road together.”
Epilogue
Christmas Eve, one year later
Dozens of candles lit the room, and a fire burned in the hearth as Ivy spread a large thick quilt over the living room floor. Cold winds howled. Arlan pulled the opposite side of the quilt across the clean floor to smooth it out, and then he sat down on the brick stoop in front of the fire, acting as a barrier if the baby should toddle that direction.
He was a good uncle. The best. And this past year of courting had showed her not only how good a man he was but how much fun they could have together as they walked through the challenges of life. They were a strong team, and she thanked God that Arlan had smashed his way into her life.
Arlan had purchased a herd of goats, and he and Red had put up new fences, dividing the cows from the goats. Goat milk sold really well, and the men were a solid team that made good profits, whether selling cow or goat milk. Magda and Mamm used the goat milk to make yogurt and cheese to sell locally.
Ivy now had a tiny shop built nowhere in sight of this house, and it had two computers, high-speed internet, and oodles of storage for all the fancy party things. Tegan worked by her side.
Her thoughts faded, and she turned her attention to the people in the room with her. The quilt Arlan and she were smoothing across the floor was for extra padding for the new walker. Magda’s little Emanuel turned one just four days ago and had taken his first steps yesterday. The little guy squawked in his mother’s lap and tried to get down.
Magda laughed and held him in place. “Hold your horses. Ivy’s almost ready for you to get down.”
“Kumm.” From the recliner Red held out his arms, and Emanuel’s eyes lit up. “Speaking of horses, we’ll do the horsey game.”
The baby boy wriggled free of his Mamm’s arms and reached for Red. “ ’Ed!”
Magda grinned and passed him over. Red started bouncing the little one on his knee.
Ivy looked at Arlan. He raised a brow and nodded before winking at her. They both thought something was going on between Magda and Red of late. A few months back Red had told Arlan that the baby kept him up too much and asked if Arlan would share the carriage house room. Arlan said yes, and the two men built a room divider in the long carriage house, and they started living as roommates, leaving the house to the women and baby. Maybe Red’s reason for moving out of the house wasn’t just about avoiding the baby crying at night. Maybe he had feelings for Magda and thought it best to move out of the house so that he and Magda weren’t living under the same roof. The community would frown on them courting if they lived in the same house.
Ivy sat next to Arlan and laid her head on his shoulder. Arlan kissed her forehead. She loved this man more than she’d known was possible. How much would she love him in ten years? Or twenty? Or a lifetime?
“There you go, little man.” Red set the toddler on his feet, but when he did, the boy seemed confused about where to go.
Holly came into the room with two hot chocolates in hand. “You’re all sure you don’t want some hot cocoa?”
The others shook their heads.
“Ivy.” Holly passed a mug to her. “Did I tell you who came to see me at the pharmacy the other day?” She walked to the couch to sit next to Joshua.
“Denki.” Ivy took a sip. “Who?”
“I saw your Swartzentruber friend, one of the girls who used to clean homes with you.”
Ivy sat up straight. “Eva?”
“Ya. Because of HIPAA laws, you know I’m not allowed to tell you if she purchased anything, but I thought you might want to know that she and her Mamm came to Greene’s.”
Reading between the lines, she realized her sister was letting her know that Eva’s Mamm had finally allowed her daughter to get treatment for her asthma. Thank goodness. After the local Swartzentruber community found out that the Zooks were housing Arlan and Magda last year, Dora and Eva’s parents had closed all contact between the girls and Ivy. All Ivy could do was respect their wishes and pray they would seek treatment before it was too late.
“Thank you for telling me.” Ivy held the warm cup close to her chest, savoring its sweet aroma.
Unlike the dark days after her Daed died, Ivy’s heart often felt like a spring calf freed from its stall. A decade ago she’d been sure that life and Christmastime would never hold complete happiness again, not like it had when Daed was alive. They still missed him. Always would. But life was big enough to hold all the love and all the sadness and to keep moving forward.
What a lovely Christmas Eve. Ivy and the caroling group had sung at a frozen pond earlier in the day, and now Holly and Josh were visiting the Zook farm. They’d stay overnight and then go home after breakfast to be at the farm when all of Josh’s siblings, their spouses, and their children arrived.
Josh and Holly hadn’t said anything yet, but Ivy was sure her sister was expecting. Holly was barely showing, but it was easy to see on her slight frame. How many children would fill these farmhouse rooms in the Christmases to come? Her Daed would’ve loved it.
“Oh.” Holly jumped up and reached into her dress pocket. “Lyle gave me this earlier today for you, Arlan.” She took a few steps toward him and passed him an envelope.
Arlan opened it and peeked inside. It was a card. Ivy peered over his shoulder as he pulled it from the envelope. Inside were five one-hundred-dollar bills.
Arlan cleared his throat and began to read the handwritten words on the card: “Merry Christmas, Arlan and Ivy. Congratulations on your upcoming wedding! From Lyle and the rest of Greene’s Pharmacy. Arlan, I have the last payment covered. Thanks for staying the course.”
Ivy squeezed his arm. Giving this money was just like Lyle. During the past year Arlan had been diligently making payments for the damage to the storefront, sending Lyle five hundred dollars a month until the debt was paid off.
Arlan’s brother had written, saying that he would pay back Arlan’s investment a little at a time when he could and that he looked forward to seeing Arlan one day. It was a good start. Ivy doubted she and Arlan would be allowed into their home, but a visit at a nearby restaurant or maybe under shade trees in the yard would be very welcome.
Arlan had found it necessary to leave his people, but she hadn’t needed to leave the Amish to find fulfillment. Life and love were a party anywhere a person chose to celebrate and honor them, and rules were a part of life.
To Mom: my second amazing mom.
When you entered our lives, I was grown with children of my own and so very sure I didn’t need another mom, so we became friends instead. But now…two decades later and forever…you are Mom too. I learn from you. I vent to you. I agree in prayer with you. But most of all, in every good, healthy way, I try to keep up with you.
—Cindy
To my children: Lucy, Caleb, Silas, and Lincoln.
I hope your haven will always be our family. No matter how old or independe
nt you come to be, and when adventures lead us far, remember home is wherever we are.
—Erin
Acknowledgments
Adam Woodsmall, Erin’s husband, thank you as always for sharing your knowledge about pharmacy and medicine, and thank you for entertaining and caring for our children with such enthusiasm and joy while we worked on this labor of love.
Debbie Pulley, Kay Johnson, and Missy Burgess, midwives with Atlanta Birth Care, thank you for your excellent care during the births of Silas and Lincoln and also for teaching me much about home birth—knowledge that was so valuable in writing this book.
Tommy Woodsmall, Cindy’s husband, thank you for always being willing to share your farming and life experiences with us.
Shweta Woodsmall, Cindy’s daughter-in-law, thank you for listening to the story ideas and answering the many questions about regulations and independent pharmacies.
Shannon Marchese, executive editor, thank you for always giving your best, for your support, sound advice, and attention to detail.
Carol Bartley, my line editor, thank you for your focus, humor, and diligence for all twenty-five works. If I can bribe you out of retirement for any part of my writing journey, I always will!
Laura Wright, senior production editor, thank you for making the transition from my former beloved production editor to my new one go so very smoothly! I look forward to editing more books with you.
Everyone at WaterBrook, an imprint of Penguin Random House, from marketing to sales to production to editorial, we’ve had fourteen years together and you are still the best!
Jaemor Farms and the Georgia Agricultural Commodity Commission, thank you for all you have to offer, from hands-on experience to a mobile dairy classroom—that allowed us time with a dairy cow—to answering many questions.
BOOKS BY CINDY WOODSMALL
As the Tide Comes In
The Amish of Summer Grove Series
Ties That Bind
Fraying at the Edge
Gathering the Threads
Sisters of the Quilt Series
When the Heart Cries
When the Morning Comes
When the Soul Mends
Ada’s House Series
The Hope of Refuge
The Bridge of Peace
The Harvest of Grace
Amish Vines and Orchards Series
A Season for Tending
The Winnowing Season
For Every Season
Seasons of Tomorrow
NOVELLAS
The Christmas Remedy
The Sound of Sleigh Bells
The Christmas Singing
The Dawn of Christmas
The Scent of Cherry Blossoms
Amish Christmas at North Star
The Angel of Forest Hill
NONFICTION
Plain Wisdom: An Invitation into an Amish Home and the Hearts of Two Women
About the Authors
CINDY WOODSMALL is the New York Times and CBA best-selling author of twenty-four works of fiction. She’s best known for her Amish fiction. Her connection with the Amish community has been widely featured in national media outlets, including the Wall Street Journal and ABC Nightline. Cindy has won numerous awards and has been a finalist for the prestigious Christy, Rita, and Carol Awards. She lives outside Atlanta with her husband, just a short distance from her children and grandchildren.
* * *
ERIN WOODSMALL is a writer, musician, wife, and mom. She has edited, brainstormed, and researched books with her mother-in-law, Cindy Woodsmall, for the last decade. The two also coauthored The Gift of Christmas Past, As the Tide Comes In, and The Christmas Remedy.
A Christmas Haven Page 17