Her Amish Christmas Choice

by Leigh Bale

  A wide smile split his handsome face. “Ja, you do understand after all. We rely on one another for everything. Our Gmay is more than just the individual members of our Amish community. It is also the rules we follow, our social structure and how we look after each other.”

  She nodded, a pensive frown tugging at her forehead. “And you have extended that honor to me simply because I came to your church and protected little Rachel from being burned?”

  He shook his head. “Ne, you are not a member of our Gmay. Not unless you accept our Ordnung and are baptized into our faith. Our beliefs permeate every aspect of our life. For my people, Gott speaks through our community and we are guided by submitting ourselves to the wisdom of the Gmay. But we also believe in serving others in any way we can. And you and your mudder were in need.”

  She nodded. “I see.”

  “Bishop Yoder is still hoping your mudder will join us at the frolic supper next week,” Martin said.

  She frowned and scuffed the tip of her tennis shoe against the wooden porch. Perhaps he shouldn’t have reminded her but the bishop had instructed him to do so. And he wouldn’t dream of defying Bishop Yoder.

  Sharon was not happy to have her daughter involved with the Amish. And Julia had made it clear she had no intention of joining their faith. But what if Julia changed her mind? What if she just needed a bit more time to get to know the Amish better? Perhaps her heart could be softened and her mind could be changed. It had happened before.

  “Even if my mudder decides not to go, I definitely want to,” she said.

  A blaze of joy flashed through his chest. “Gut. I’ll tell my vadder and the bishop that you’ll be joining us.” He nodded, forcing himself not to laugh out loud with delight. “I had best get heemet now. But I’ll be back in the morning as usual.”

  She nodded with understanding. “Ja, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  As he turned away and headed around to the front of the house to find Hank, he felt a bit of doubt. She had said yes and wanted to go to the frolic supper, but her words to her mother still rang in his ears. She had no intention of becoming Amish.

  Once he finished his job here, he wouldn’t see her anymore. No more teaching her Deitsch. No more working, planning and laughing together. And somehow that made him feel sad and empty inside.

  Chapter Eight

  On Monday the following week, Julia awoke to the thunk of axes and the burr of saws. Rising from her bed, she slid the curtains open just a bit and gazed out. Shimmering sunlight gleamed against the frost covering the barren trees. A nest of dried orange and yellow leaves carpeted the ground. She really must find time to rake them up before it snowed.

  At least two dozen men swarmed her backyard, cutting the long logs into smaller stumps. It had been a week since they had brought the firewood down from the mountains. Tonight, when their chore was done, they would enjoy the frolic supper at Bishop Yoder’s farm. And Julia couldn’t wait.

  She paused beside the dresser in her room, running her fingertips over the pages of her Bible. She’d been reading the Scriptures every spare moment she could find. The passages filled her heart with warmth and gave her a sense of something greater than herself. Accompanied by prayer, her faith and relationship with God was growing more every day.

  Hurrying to dress, she dragged a comb through her long hair, tied it into a jaunty ponytail and raced downstairs. When she stepped to the back door, she found Mom standing there. Dressed in her long pajamas and bathrobe, she was watching the men through the screen door.

  “You’re up early,” Julia said with a smile.

  “Not as early as them. Their women woke me up and I let them into the store.” Mom nodded at the Amish.

  Julia gasped. “The women returned, too?”

  “Yes. Three of them. They brought us a fresh loaf of bread and an apple cobbler.”

  “That was nice of them. Who all is here?”

  Sharon shrugged. “I don’t know their names.”

  “Mom! Of course you do. They were each introduced to you last week. You should try to be nicer to them.” Julia hated to admonish her own mother but still couldn’t fathom her discourtesy.

  “How are you feeling?” Julia asked, trying to change the topic. She wrapped an arm around Mom’s waist and leaned against her in an affectionate hug. She’d had a bad attack over the past few days and Julia was worried about her.

  “I’m fine.” Mom squeezed her back.

  “Did you remember to take your medication this morning?” With the cooler weather, Mom’s joint and muscle pain had increased. Julia knew she hadn’t been sleeping well either. Maybe it was time to make another appointment with the doctor in town. He was an older gentleman who had retired here to Riverton but still opened up his office two days per week. A blessing for them.

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Getting the soap store operational isn’t as important as you are,” Julia said.

  Another tight hug and Mom released her. “The Amish certainly are persistent. I didn’t think they’d return.”

  Her voice held an edge of grudging respect and a bit of resentment, too.

  “The Amish can be generous as long as you don’t cross them. But I can’t help wondering at their motives,” Mom said.

  Julia shrugged one shoulder. “As far as I know, they want nothing from us.”

  “Hmm,” came Mom’s skeptical reply.

  Julia went very still. She couldn’t help thinking the Amish were like the large family she’d always wished for. They were there when she needed them, ready to help in any way possible. And tonight, she would go to the frolic supper and play baseball and have fun with them.

  “They haven’t asked us for anything, Mom. We don’t have much to offer. What could they possibly want?” she asked.

  “You,” Mom said.

  The word was like a slap to her face. It caused Julia to take a quick inhale. She forced herself not to shudder. Her mother’s comment seemed a bit sinister. Surely Martin’s people weren’t that manipulative and conniving.

  “I’m not going to become Amish, so you can relax on that point,” Julia insisted.

  Mom jutted her chin toward the door. “Do they know that? Does Martin know?”

  “Yes, I told him. And he tells his parents almost everything, so they all know.”

  Mom snorted. “The Amish don’t take no for an answer.”

  “Martin is my employee. He’s here to do a job. That’s all. It won’t hurt us to be nice to him.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Mom said.

  Julia gazed out into the yard. Several men took turns using a two-handled saw to cut the logs into stumps with long, even strokes. Wielding axes, more men rolled the stumps over to a large cutting block where a chisel was used to split the stumps into hand-size chunks of kindling. Each man seemed to know when it was his turn to chop and when to rest. Their happy banter and laughter carried through the air.

  “Julia, can I get your opinion on something?”

  She turned and found Martin standing at the end of the hallway. His tall silhouette almost blocked the rays of sunshine that glistened at his back.

  Without a word, Sharon slipped away and Julia went to greet him. As they walked into the retail part of the store, Julia glanced over and saw Linda and Lori stocking the shelves. Again, she was embarrassed to find them here working while she’d been upstairs sleeping.

  Both women knelt on the floor as they slid narrow boxes of homemade lip balms and lotions into the display case. Thankfully, the products had been made long before Julia’s hand had been burned.

  The low murmur of their voices seemed so comforting to her. Even though it had been such a short time, she felt as though she knew these women well and they were good friends. Surely her mother’s fears were unwarranted.

  “Guder mariye,” she called in a pleasant
tone.

  “Hallo, Julia.” Linda waved.

  Lori nodded and showed a shy smile.

  “Do you like how we are displaying your notions?” Linda asked.

  Julia glanced at the shelves, noticing how the women had lined up each bottle so the labels were front and center. The variety of soaps caused a spicy-sweet scent to fill the air. The light pink and lavender creams looked so appealing that she felt certain the local ranchers’ wives wouldn’t be able to resist them. At least, that was what she hoped.

  “It’s perfect. And don’t forget to bring in some of your rag rugs. I’ve got a cute display rack that will be great for showing off your work,” Julia said.

  “Ja, a number of us women are working on them. We’re glad to have the extra income. I’ll bring them in time for your grand opening.” Linda beamed with pleasure.

  Good. Now if only Julia could get the large soap orders made before her deadline. Other than her mother’s health, that was her greatest concern right now.

  “Take a look at this.” Martin gestured toward her workroom. She was surprised to see David Hostetler standing nearby, his work-roughened hands folded beneath his black suspenders. He smiled but didn’t speak.

  Julia gasped at what she saw. Rising from the Formica countertop, a frameless tempered glass partition reached clear up to the ceiling and separated the retail side of the store from the workroom where she would make her soap. With the glass panel to separate the two rooms, no noxious fumes of lye would bother her customers. Martin’s craftsmanship looked perfect and very professional.

  “The glass was so large and unwieldy that Daed helped me hold it steady while I installed it this morning. I didn’t want to take the chance that I might crack the glass while working alone,” Martin said.

  “I helped, too,” Hank chimed in from across the room. As usual, he hurried over to Julia, standing a bit too close as he grinned up at her.

  She smiled back.

  Martin reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair in a loving gesture. “Ja, Hank helped a lot. So, what do you think of it, Jules?”

  Jules! No one had ever called her that before. With Martin’s foreign accent, the name sounded rather exotic. His deep, low voice caused a little shiver of delight to run up her spine. She paused, repeating the name silently in her mind.

  “I’m sorry, Julia. I shouldn’t have called you that. It just slipped out. I don’t know where I even got it from,” he said.

  She laughed. “It’s okay. I kind of like it.” Actually, she was glad he felt relaxed enough around her to give her a nickname.

  He flashed a smile. “You do?”

  She nodded, a hard lump rising in her throat. With the bright sun blazing through the wide windows, he looked so handsome standing there. She didn’t have the heart to object. All her life, she’d dreamed of having friends. She’d dreamed of having her own business, too. Seeing all of Martin’s hard work and the partition now in place made that dream a reality.

  “Ahem! We’ll be having the frolic supper this evening. Will your mudder be joining us?” David cleared his throat, breaking into her fanciful thoughts.

  “Ne, she doesn’t feel up to going,” she said.

  Her face flushed with heat and she stepped toward the glass, trying to hide her embarrassment. She couldn’t believe she’d actually been flirting with Martin in front of his father, of all people!

  “Do you really like it?” Martin asked again from behind.

  She nodded quickly, hardly able to speak. “It’s perfect. It’s just what I always dreamed of.”

  “I helped clean the glass.” Hank followed her, lifting a roll of paper towels and a bottle of glass cleaner that had been sitting on the table.

  “I see you did a good job, too. Danke for all your work,” Julia said.

  Hank smiled so brightly that she thought a zillion sunbeams must have exploded inside his head.

  Julia turned toward David. “And danke to you, as well.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” The older man smiled politely and ducked his head.

  “I’ll get the stove and fridge installed later this afternoon. Daed will help the men outside, then go heemet to do his work before the frolic supper tonight,” Martin said.

  She glanced at David, noticing his calm, friendly gaze. If only she knew what he was thinking. He was Martin’s father and for some crazy reason, she desperately wanted his approval.

  “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all your help. I feel so bad that you’ve left your own chores at home in order to come to my aid,” she told him.

  “It’s no problem. You saved our little Rachel, so it’s the least we can do to help you.” David spoke in an even tone, yet he seemed a bit guarded. After all, she was Englisch whether she was interested in his faith or not.

  “Kumme helfe cut the firewood, Hank.” Picking up a bucket of rags, David glanced at his younger son.

  “But I want to stay here with Julia,” Hank whined.

  “Ne, you will komm with me now.” As if expecting the boy to obey, the man walked outside.

  With a backward glance at her, Hank followed begrudgingly. Through the wide windows fronting the store, Julia watched the two of them walk around the house to the backyard. She figured they would help the other men stack wood. From the looks of things, they’d be finished soon.

  “I’ve almost completed my work here,” Martin spoke softly.

  Julia jerked, surprised to find him standing right next to her. A feeling of sadness pulsed over her. Once he was finished, she wouldn’t see him anymore.

  “May I attend your church services again?” The moment she asked, she wondered if she would regret it. She didn’t want to give him the impression she was going to join his faith, nor did she want any more contention with her mother. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. She really wanted to go.

  “Abselutt,” he said with a smile.

  She tilted her head in question and he explained.

  “Absolutely. I will pick you up and drive you this coming Sunday. This time, it will be held at the Fishers’ farm.”

  “I’ll bring a casserole to help with the lunch,” she said.

  “I’m sure they will appreciate that.”

  She nodded, then looked at the partition again, trying to ignore the feeling of butterflies swarming her stomach. “I hope the appliances work okay.”

  She had taken Martin’s advice and her appliances would not be powered by electricity.

  “They will work fine. You’re using gas appliances upstairs in your apartment now. Propane and compressed air can drive your fridge and stove top just as well as electricity,” he said.

  Out of necessity, she would have to trust Martin’s judgment. After what Dallin had put her through, it was a big leap of faith for her. But Martin hadn’t let her down yet. And even if the electricity went out again, she’d still be able to power her appliances. That was a big plus.

  She stepped through the open doorway to her workroom, running her fingertips over the smooth Formica counters. The oak cabinets and drawers were lovely. There wasn’t a bit of dust or grime anywhere to be seen. The white paint she’d applied to the walls gave the room a clinical, sterile appearance, which was perfect in case she had an unannounced FDA inspection to ensure her business was compliant with the law.

  She admired the gleaming stainless steel sink and new water faucet Martin had installed. It was a tall, swan’s neck spout that loomed high over the sink with plenty of room for her large stockpots to rest inside the basin below. The arch of the faucet would make cleanup much easier.

  She turned and smiled at Martin. He stood in the threshold, his strong arms braced over his head against the doorjamb, his right ankle crossed over the left. It was a completely male stance that reminded her what a strong, capable man he was.

  And attractive, too.


  Shaking her head, she tried to focus on her work. A slight frown tugged at his forehead. He looked worried. No doubt he was concerned she might not like his work.

  “It’s beautiful. Exactly what I envisioned,” she said.

  His facial features softened. “I should have everything completed by Thanksgiving. That will give you plenty of time to meet your soap making deadline.”

  A laugh of relief broke from her throat and she held up her left hand. “Ja, I’m cutting it kind of close. I’ll get the bandages removed the day after Thanksgiving and plan to make soap right afterward.”

  Lowering his arms, he stepped nearer and gently touched the thick gauze on her hand. Though she could barely feel his touch, she felt mesmerized by his closeness as she looked up at him.

  “Even though the bandages will be removed soon, your hand may be weak from lack of use,” he said. “I will be here that afternoon to help you make soap. I can lift the pans off the stove and pour the batter into the molds. I don’t want you or your mudder to have to lift those heavy pans.”

  She nodded, realizing he was right. And frankly, she’d gotten used to him being around. She would miss him when he was gone. “Danke. I would appreciate it. You’ve been so great, Martin. I couldn’t have done all of this without you and Hank and your people.”

  “As my vadder said, it’s our pleasure.” With a dip of his head, he reached for his toolbox and busied himself with tidying things up.

  Feeling odd and out of place in her own store, she left him to his work. Stepping back into the sales room, she caught the low murmur of the women’s voices. One of them laughed and she drew near. Their camaraderie and friendship had become dear to her and she couldn’t wait to attend the frolic supper with Martin later that afternoon.

  “It’ll be nice to have a new member join our Gmay,” Abby said.

  With her back turned toward Julia, Abby sat with Lori and Linda at the worktable. They were cutting lengths of thin grosgrain ribbon to tie around the lip balms and didn’t notice she was there.