by Kelly Long
“I’m glad you came.” And he was, but not for the reasons that he would have originally thought. Still, he was grateful for the opportunity to get to know Carrie a little better. She was easy enough on the eyes, but there was something missing. He couldn’t name just what.
She moved a little closer to him in the dim light of the porch. The hint was subtle but clear. She wanted him to kiss her.
He moved away and back, putting as much distance between them as he could. He wasn’t ready for that, not at all. But even as the shadow of disappointment flashed across Carrie’s face, another evening under the nighttime sky came to mind. But with a different girl he had wanted to kiss. More than anything he had wanted to pull her close and just feel her warmth next to his, absorb some of the beauty and grace that was Bernice Yoder. But the magic of that night had been broken and the chance slipped away like the smoke from his chimney.
“Good night, Carrie Byler,” he said.
“Good night, Jess Schmucker.” She moved toward her buggy and he watched her go, glad she was leaving even while he was filled with a longing for something he couldn’t name.
CHAPTER 10
“You promised.” Reba crossed her arms and glared at him. He was used to the look, having been subjected to it all the years they spent growing up.
“I’m tired, Reba.” Jess dropped the bag of corn feed on the ground, missing her toes by mere inches. It was a trick Reba was used to and she didn’t flinch, just kept up her argument as to why he had to spend tonight in Bernice Yoder’s company.
“A deal’s a deal, brother.”
“Jah, but I didn’t say I’d have dinner with her tonight.” He plopped down another bag of feed, this one even closer to her feet.
“Too bad. She’s coming anyway.” She moved a little out of the way when he turned with the third bag. “When you’re done here, go take a shower.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “And shave.” She pointed to his lip where the hairs were starting to grow back. “And put on clean clothes.” Then she turned on her heel and headed out of the barn.
“Where are you going?”
Reba spun back around. “I’m going to cook dinner. Of course.”
Of course.
Bernice pulled her buggy to a stop and set the brake before climbing to the ground. She reached behind the seat and pulled out the basket of gingerbread men she had stashed there. She had baked the cookies the night before, knowing that she wanted to bring them tonight. How much fun would it be to decorate the cookies with Jess and the girls? It was a Christmas tradition she had enjoyed since she was a child, and she had missed it terribly this year.
She hooked the basket handle on her arm and gave her horse a pat on the neck. “Give me just a second, girl, and I’ll put you in the barn.” It was too cold a night to leave the aging horse in the wind, even if she was only going to be here for an hour or two.
She was reaching for the fasteners when Constance and Hope came crashing out of the house. Their coats flapped in the wind as they raced toward her. They had scarves tied on their heads and covering their ears and grins on their faces as they skidded to a stop in front of her.
“You’re here. You’re here! You’re here!”
“I’m here,” she said, laughing as the girls flung their arms around her. As far as welcomes went, this one was fantastic. “Where’s Lilly Ruth?”
“Inside with Dat and Aenti Reba.”
“Reba’s here?”
The girls nodded. “They said to tell you to go on inside and we’ll take care of your horse.”
“Thank you very much.” Bernice gave them both a quick nod, then started toward the house. With each step her heart pounded harder and harder in her chest. She had been so very surprised when Jess had sent a note to school with his girls asking her to come to supper tonight. She had read and reread the missive until she knew each word by heart, each curve of his strong handwriting.
Don’t read too much into this.
It was just a supper. Parents invited teachers to supper all the time. Some wanted to talk about their child in the schoolroom. Others wanted to show their appreciation. For Jess Schmucker it was more than likely a mixture of both. But that did not make this a date. Nothing more than supper, she told herself as she let herself into the house.
“Jess? Reba?”
“In here,” her friend called.
The house smelled divine, like fresh baked bread and the forest when it snows. Pine boughs accented the mantel and the decorations that appeared to be spread throughout the front room. Paper snowflakes of varying sizes hung, suspended from the ceiling with lengths of yarn. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and in general the atmosphere was festive and cheery.
“Bernice!” Lilly Ruth came flying from the kitchen and ran headlong into Bernice, hugging her with all the might in her thin, little girl arms. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
“So am I.” Bernice returned Lilly Ruth’s hug, surprised to discover that in spite of her nervousness, she was happy to be there. She was looking forward to supper and decorating cookies with the girls and in general spending time with the man and his daughters.
A lot of good it would do her. She needed to remember that he had called this to thank her for taking care of his children this school year and nothing more. Talk around town was that Carrie Byler had come to supper the night before. And Bernice was certain that the motivations behind that invite had more to do with an upcoming wedding.
“Come on.” Lilly Ruth pulled on her hand, bringing her out of her stupor. “Come see what Reba made us to eat.”
Bernice walked into the kitchen to bubbling pots and popping grease. “My goodness. All of this is for me?”
Jess whirled around, looking both surprised and chagrined. He had a towel slung over one shoulder, his cheeks reddened from the heat billowing around the room.
“Hi, Bernice. Almost ready,” Reba called over one shoulder.
“Do you need some help?” Bernice set the basket of cookies on the sideboard.
“Oh no, I’ve almost got it.” Reba started dishing up platters of this and that. A bowl of chicken and dumplings, fried okra, a basket of corn bread muffins. In only a matter of minutes, the table was covered with a feast.
Reba dusted her hands and pulled off her apron. “Well, that’s that. Enjoy.” And before Bernice could say another word, she swept out of the house and was gone.
Jess chuckled and shook his head.
Bernice followed suit. Sometimes being around Reba was like getting trapped in a whirlwind.
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me.”
Jess smiled. “I didn’t. Reba did.”
“Jah, about that. You should have said something. We could have eaten at the dawdi haus. It would have been nice to cook for someone besides Sarah.”
“But I invited you to dinner.”
She shrugged. “No matter.”
Jess studied her, a moment so intense she shifted in place to keep from running out the door.
“Is it ready?” There were footsteps across the wooden floors and Constance and Hope burst into the room. Their cheeks were pink from the cold, smiles stretching from ear to ear.
“Go take your coats off and wash your hands, then we’ll eat.” Bernice straightened and gave a little cough. “I mean, ask your father.” For a moment there, she had forgotten this wasn’t her little family. She was just the teacher. She didn’t have the right to tell them to wash up, at least not outside the schoolroom.
He gave them a quick nod.
The girls filed out to wash their hands, and Bernice was left alone with Jess.
“I thought you handled that quite well,” he said.
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries.”
He frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
And the conversation ended as the girls came rushing back in. There was no way they had been gone long enough to wash their hands thoroughly, but neither Ber
nice nor Jess sent them back. Bernice was thankful. She needed the buffer the girls provided.
They sat down around the table, everyone bowing their heads to say a prayer before they ate. Bernice asked God to bless their food and to please take away the sense of yearning that filled her by just sitting at the table with Jess and his girls. Never before had she longed for a family of her own. Not even with Jacob. And never like this.
Jess lifted his head, and the others followed suit.
Bernice unfolded a napkin and placed it in her lap, hiding her smile when the girls mimicked her actions.
They passed around the bowls and platters of food, everyone serving themselves before passing it on to the next person. Conversation was lively, consisting mostly of the girls telling tales on each other and their classmates.
Bernice couldn’t remember ever having a better time. Afterward, they cleaned off the table and did the dishes. Despite their protests, she helped the girls. She wasn’t about to sit and not help clean up after one of the best meals she had ever eaten. Plus that meant they could begin decorating the cookies sooner rather than later.
The girls gasped and squealed as she brought out the cookies and the small tubs filled with colored icing and sprinkles.
“And you can use these for buttons,” she said, pouring out candy-coated chocolates.
“Oh Bernice, you thought of everything!” What should have been a happy sentiment seemed to have Hope close to tears.
“Are you all right, liebschdi?”
Hope nodded, but wrapped her arms around Bernice’s middle. The hot moisture of Hope’s tears wet the fabric of her dress. Not knowing what else she could do, Bernice just held her, running a hand soothingly down her back as the girl cried.
“She misses our mamm,” Constance said in her not-quite-adult tone.
“Is that true?” she asked, her voice soft and low.
Hope nodded.
“That’s only natural, you know.”
Hope tipped her face up to look at Bernice. Her heart melted at the sight of those tearstained cheeks. “It is?”
“Of course. Anytime you lose someone you love, you miss them. Even if they just move away.”
“So it’s okay that I cry?”
“Of course it is.” Bernice smiled even as her eyes filled with tears.
Before she knew what happened, all three girls had wrapped their arms around her, surrounding her with all the love a young heart could hold.
They let go one by one. Hope squeezed her tight, then turned her loose and skipped back to her place at the table.
Bernice shook her head at the resiliency of youth. Was that all they needed to know? That it was okay to miss their mother? She would talk to Jess about it, but she had seen him with his girls. He wouldn’t begrudge them their tears. Perhaps they didn’t want to worry him or make him sadder.
“Dat, come get a cookie.” Lilly Ruth licked the streak of blue icing from the side of her hand, succeeding in smearing it across her nose in the process.
Jess appeared in the doorway. “Are they ready to eat?”
“Come decorate one.” Bernice waved him in.
For moment she thought he might protest, then he sauntered in and grabbed a cookie.
Forty-five minutes later, the cookies were all decorated, the children were cleaned up, and Jess sat down with his Bible.
Bernice settled on the couch with Constance on one side, Hope on the other, and Lilly Ruth snuggled in her lap. The fire crackled as Jess read, his deep voice lulling her into another time and place. One in which this was her life and not just one happy evening out of so many lonely ones.
By the time he marked his place and stopped reading, Lilly Ruth’s breathing had evened out to the steady rise and fall of deep sleep.
“Want me to take her?”
Bernice shook her head as Jess roused the other girls and led them up the stairs.
He directed her into the first room on the second floor. She settled Lilly Ruth on the single bed while Jess helped Constance and Hope into their bunk beds. Just seeing the sweet, shared room made her a little homesick. Or perhaps it was simple nostalgia for the simpler days of her youth, back before Leah and Jacob had betrayed her and life had been easy.
“Good night,” Jess said, softly planting a kiss on each daughter’s forehead.
“Bernice,” Constance whispered, her sleep-weary voice beckoning. “Good night.”
“Good night,” she whispered in return. Unable to stop herself, she leaned in and gave each of them a small kiss.
“See you in the morning,” Hope muttered.
Bernice’s heart jumped. She wouldn’t be there in the morning. She had been pretending all evening that this was her life, but it was time to return to reality.
She walked back down the stairs, so aware that Jess was right behind her.
At the bottom of the steps she took her coat from the peg by the door. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I had a really good time.”
“Me, too.” He grabbed his own coat from the peg next to where hers had been hanging and slipped his arms into the sleeves.
“Where are you going?”
“To help you get your horse.”
It looked like her escape would be delayed a few minutes. But she nodded, wrapped a scarf around her head, and plunged into the cold, dark night.
Jess made short work of hitching up her horse.
Bernice was glad; it was past time to return to her real life.
“Thank you,” he said as she placed her basket behind the seat.
“I should be thanking you.”
Even in the dim light, she could see the quick flash of his smile. “I’m glad you came tonight.”
“Me, too.” She stood there for a moment, that yearning part of her needing to extend the night as long as possible. But the practical part knew it was past time to leave.
She turned to climb into the buggy, but stopped as he reached out one hand and touched the side of her face. His fingers were cool against her flushed cheeks. Then it was gone so quickly, she wondered if it had been there at all.
“Good night.”
“Good night,” he echoed, giving a little wave as she turned her buggy around and headed for home.
CHAPTER 11
Christmas Eve dawned with gray skies heavy with snow. If the heavens were any indication, Chris Lapp had called it, and they would have a white Christmas.
Jess was grateful to have his daughters home early after only a half a day at school. Tomorrow they would head to his parents’ house for a family dinner, but today they were staying at the house, putting the finishing touches on the gifts the girls had started for their mammi. One day to enjoy family and not have to worry about anything else.
By the afternoon milking, the snow still hadn’t started, and Jess wondered if the sky was deceiving them for a reason.
“Who’s coming to supper tonight?” Hope asked as they headed back to the house.
“No one. It’s just us tonight.”
“Can we have Bernice over again?” Lilly Ruth asked.
“No, liebschdi. Bernice needs to be with her family.” But was she with her family? Or was she sharing a tiny supper with her cousin?
“If no one’s coming to supper, then who’s that?” Constance pointed toward the road where a buggy was turning down their drive.
“That’s Carrie Byler.”
The girls groaned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” they mumbled in unison.
“Hello, there.” Carrie waved from her seat in the buggy.
“Hello.” Jess waved back.
“I just came to bring you a fruitcake.” Carrie slid from the buggy and pulled a small box from behind the seat.
“A fruitcake,” Jess repeated. “How . . . nice.” And from the grocery store in town no less. The kind of cake that was baked in an English factory and wrapped by a machine before being sent out to sell.
“Let’s go inside
, and I’ll cut us a slice.”
He was really looking forward to an evening alone with his girls. He’d had company the last two nights, and he was ready for things to slow down a bit.
But it would be this way when he remarried. There would be a woman underfoot day and night. The thought of Carrie Byler in that position wore on his nerves more than he cared to admit. Scenes from last night’s cookie-decorating party flashed in his head. Somehow time spent with Bernice was different, more relaxed, less . . . strained. Time with Bernice seemed to be less about Bernice and more about family.
Something niggled in the back of his mind. The hairs on his neck prickled as if to say he was missing something here. But he didn’t have time to figure out what it was before he had to open the door and allow Carrie Byler to come inside.
“Constance,” Carrie started, “be a good girl and cut us a slice of the fruitcake. We’ll be waiting on the couch.”
Constance frowned, but didn’t say anything as she took the box from Carrie and carted it into the kitchen.
Carrie settled herself on the sofa and patted the seat next to her. “Come sit down, Jess.”
He looked around. In a flash, his two youngest daughters disappeared. To where was anybody’s guess, but he supposed they went upstairs to wash up before supper.
“Come on.” Carrie patted the cushion again, and Jess was reminded of his mother’s lapdog. She called the tiny beast much in the same manner, and the little dog came running every time.
He shook the thought away and settled down in the proffered space. “I don’t think it’s a gut idea to have cake before supper.”
“Oh nonsense. It’s Christmas Eve. Surely you can break a few rules on Christmas Eve.”
He gave a small nod but knew inside that it wouldn’t stop there. He wasn’t sure how he knew; he just did. Carrie Byler had lived on her own for many years. She had been free to do what she pleased, when she pleased. Even if that meant having cake before supper every night of the week.
“Danki,” she said with one of those smiles she seemed to save for the children, a little stiff, a little too polite.
“Will there be anything else?” Constance asked, sounding so much like the waiter at the last restaurant they had eaten at that Jess wasn’t sure whether to laugh or frown.