by Kelly Long
“No, this is good for now. You can run along and play.” She flicked a hand in the general direction of the stairs.
Constance forced a smile, then gave a small curtsy.
He would talk to her about her sass later, but thankfully Carrie didn’t seem to notice.
“So, I guess you’re wondering why I came over tonight.”
Jess picked a nut out of his cake and idly chewed it. Maybe if he picked at it enough, he wouldn’t actually have to eat the thing. “I figured you wanted to see us on Christmas Eve.”
“Jah, well, word around town is that you want to get married again. That’s true, jah?”
He nodded.
“And is it too forward to assume that since you invited me to supper, you have decided that I’m to be your new bride?”
He cleared his throat, unaccustomed to such frank talk. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one to initiate this conversation? “I suppose, jah.”
“Okay, good.” She placed her saucer on the side table and her hands in her lap. “I think after the first of the year would be the best time to put your farm up for sale.”
“Put my farm up for sale?” He was too stunned to say much else.
“Of course. I can support us both and the children with what I make leasing my farm. Why would you want to live out here and work yourself to death milking cows when you don’t have to?”
The only part of the idea that held any merit was the fact that he would be living across the road from his parents. Or rather, his children would be across the road from their dawdi and mammi.
“I don’t know, Carrie.” The rest didn’t bear thinking about. How could he sell his herd? Who would put up with Gigi’s constant bellowing while she was being milked? Or Doug’s stubborn attitude about going into the stall? The poor beast had to be rubbed behind the ears to get her to go in. Who would put up with a milk cow named Doug?
“Well, it’s certainly something we need to think about if you’re serious about this. You are serious about this?”
He had been. But he was growing more and more unsure, starting with the fruitcake and leading up to this moment here. Despite all his reservations, his girls needed a mamm. And that trumped everything. “Jah. I’m serious.”
Carrie beamed at him. “I’m so glad. And there is one other thing. You don’t want any more children, right?”
Bernice pulled to a stop behind the buggy and set the brake. Was Jess going somewhere? Most likely to his eldras’ house for the holiday. She breathed a sigh of relief that she had arrived before he left. She had a few things for the family for their Christmas. It would be good to be able to talk to him for a little bit instead of just leaving it on the porch for him to find later.
She slid to the ground, then grabbed the wicker laundry basket from the seat next to her. So maybe there was more than a little something, but God had laid it on her heart to spread a little Christmas cheer.
Pfth. You are in love with that man and his children. Say what you want about God and Christmas cheer, but you know the truth. And we both know why you are going over there.
Sarah’s words from earlier floated through her mind. Jah, okay. So maybe she was in love with him. Maybe she would trade everything she owned in the world to be a mother to those children. And maybe everything in the basket was just one more idea designed to show Jess love and hope-hope-hope that he might recognize it and return that love to her.
Surely she hadn’t imagined the pull she felt between them. But she had never felt that way before. Did everyone in love feel the same? Could Jess feel it? Would he know it to be love?
Silly girl, she chided herself as she made her way to the porch. One step at a time. But there was this part inside her that wanted to fling her arms around him, despite the code of conduct she was expected to uphold, and confess her love for him. How else was a woman supposed to let a man know she loved him?
Perhaps with a basket full of Christmas cheer.
The first fat snowflakes started to fall as she reached the steps. She brushed them off her shoulders and made her way to the front door. She gave one small knock and let herself into the house.
The living room was warm and toasty. A fire crackled in the fireplace. Two cups of coffee and two half-eaten pieces of cake sat on saucers next to them.
Her smile froze as Jess jumped to his feet. He had been sitting next to Carrie Byler. On the couch. All cozy. No children around. The perfect atmosphere for a courting couple to get to know one another better. And if the flush on Jess’s face was any indication, that was exactly what they had been doing.
“I—” she started, but the words were lost somewhere between her mouth and her brain. She tried again, doing her best to block the image of the two of them . . . together . . . from her mind. “I brought some things for the girls. I’ll just leave them on the table and—” She rushed into the kitchen before Jess could even utter a thanks and was back at the front door in record time. She had to get out of there. Now. Had to get as far away from her crumbling dreams as she could.
Jess took a step toward her. “Bernice, I—”
“Merry Christmas, Jess.” Her voice choked at the end, and her tears wouldn’t be denied any longer. She whirled on her heel and rushed from the house.
Fat, wet snowflakes steadily fell. The ground was already covered with no sign of it letting up. They would have a white Christmas, but Jess was all she could think about as she climbed into her buggy. Jess and Carrie. She was too late. Jess Schmucker had fallen in love with another.
CHAPTER 12
“It’s snowing,” Jess idly commented. It was the clearest thought he had in his head. The rest were swirling around, elusive, as he tried to catch one and make sense of what had just happened.
Bernice had shown up with something for them for Christmas. Gift giving wasn’t unheard of, but she seemed upset about something. Him and Carrie? Why would that bother her unless . . .
“My goodness, I would say it is. I must be going if I’m going to make it home safely in this weather.”
Chris Lapp had been right. They were going to have a white Christmas this year.
Jess nodded. But he couldn’t think of anything he should say as Carrie slipped into her coat and wrapped a scarf around her head.
He walked her onto the porch and watched as she dashed through the falling snow and climbed into her buggy.
Then he went back into the house and called the girls down for supper.
They were unusually quiet as they ate, not even the snow outside bringing about the excitement that he would normally expect on such a special day.
They cleaned up the kitchen, got ready for bed, and all gathered around his chair for the Bible reading.
He chose Luke and the story of the birth of Christ. It was a fitting reading for the night, but he wished that he had chosen something more challenging, less familiar. He had read the story so many times, none of it seemed real as he read. They were just words while there was something in his head that needed a name. Now, if only he could find it.
His girls went to bed and he stayed up long into the night, pondering, wondering, and trying to name something beyond his grasp.
He dozed off around two, only to wake up at four to start the morning milking. He didn’t wake the girls. He needed the time alone, the work to pull him to the truth.
He bundled up and headed off into the snow. Inches had fallen during the night, and he was glad that his girls were snug in their beds. He would surely lose the girls to the snow as soon as they woke up. Lilly Ruth’s prayers had been answered.
As he tromped out to the barn and gathered the cows into their milking stalls, it came to him. He couldn’t marry Carrie Byler. How could he marry a woman who wanted to be the man of the family, provide for them all, and expect him not to work? What sort of message would that give his children? What sort of values would they learn from allowing another to toil on the land and for him to take the profits as a land owner? Not even an owner, for in hi
s heart the farm would always belong to Carrie.
He finished up his milking and trudged back into the house.
The girls eased down the stairs, then finally raced to him as he came back in, doing his best to knock most of the snow from his clothes.
“Dat! Dat! Dat! Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas!” He smiled at his girls, swinging them high into his arms as he did. Surely this was all a man needed. He set them on the floor and gazed around the house. It was clean, mostly. He had finally gotten the hang of doing the laundry. And the girls’ hair had never looked better. Well, except for this morning. He was succeeding, against all odds, and learning to become both mother and father to his children. Maybe he had been a little too hasty in trying to find a wife.
“Can we open presents? Please, Dat.” Hope grabbed his hand and bounced on her toes.
“Jah, please,” Lilly Ruth joined in.
“Now, you know we’re going over to Mammi and Dawdi’s this morning. We’re supposed to take our presents over there and open them at their house.”
Constance’s eyes grew wide. “In the snow?”
“Of course.”
“Can we open just one present?” Lilly Ruth asked.
“Jah, please,” Hope added.
He scooped up his youngest, his heart light for the first time in a long time. He could do this—and without Carrie Byler. He knew he could. And his family would be all the better for it. “Tell you what. I have a basket in the kitchen from Bernice. What if I let you open it this morning?” He had almost forgotten about it.
“The whole basket?” Hope’s eyes grew wide.
“I’m sure there’s something for everybody in there.”
Constance cheered and led the way. She hoisted the large basket onto the table where they could all see what it contained.
Right on top was a beautiful quilt made from a selection of fabrics in a variety of colors and prints. He thought he’d heard someone call a similar one a crazy quilt, but he thought it was beautiful, unique, and special, just like the woman who gifted it to him. A note was pinned to it. To replace the one in your buggy. Stay warm. B.
“A quilt?” Lilly Ruth wrinkled her nose.
Lilly Ruth might not be impressed with the gift, but Jess was touched. He trailed his fingers over the perfect stitches. She surely hadn’t made the quilt since the time they had ridden home together, but yet she remembered and gave him something unusual and beautiful.
“Here.” Constance handed her youngest sister a small package. “This one has your name on it.”
Lilly Ruth took the package, her smile wide and contagious. When Jess had said there would be something in the basket for everyone, he had thought of a gift to them all, not as individuals.
“Is there one for me?” Hope grew impatient and danced in place as she waited for her sister.
“Jah, and one for me, too.” She stuck her hand back into the basket, bringing out a disposable pan covered in foil. “This was in the bottom.”
He took it from her as the girls tore into their packages. Inside were beautiful scarfs made from yarn as fine as spiderwebs. They were solid black in color and fit well into the Ordnung, but they had a shine to them, a sparkle that only showed when the light hit them just right.
“Do you think she made these for us?” Hope asked, wrapping the scarf around her head. She looked sweet and silly in the head covering and her pajamas.
“I think so,” Constance answered. “What’s that?” She pointed to the pan he still held.
He had almost forgotten he still had it. He was so wrapped up in watching the joy on his little girls’ faces.
There was that feeling again. That feeling that he was missing something important.
“Well?” Hope prompted. “Are you going to open it?”
Jess pulled back one corner, strangely nervous. The pan was filled with monkey bread.
“Do you suppose Bernice has been leaving the sticky bread on our porch?”
His heart skipped a beat at the thought. There was no other answer. Except maybe her cousin had done it. He wouldn’t put much past Sarah King, but he didn’t want that to be the case. He wanted Bernice to be the baker who knew all his favorites.
And she was. Somehow he knew it. And just as he knew that he could make it without Carrie Byler, he also knew that he wanted a life with Bernice Yoder. A partnership of raising children, decorating cookies, and eating monkey bread.
“Girls, go get dressed.”
“Are we going to Mammi’s and Dawdi’s now?” Lilly Ruth asked.
He shook his head. “Someplace better.”
“In the snow?” Constance added.
“In the buggy?” Hope asked.
“I don’t think so.” Jess smiled. “I’ve got an idea. Now, go get dressed. And hurry.”
The old sleigh was sort of a hand-me-down. His great-uncle and his grandfather had built it together so long ago that no one could quite remember when.
Jess pulled the cover off the sleigh and dusted his hands. It had been in the carriage house for so long now, he’d almost forgotten he had it. Why hadn’t he taken it out more? Because he’d let life get in the way. The day-to-day chores and struggles. “I’m sorry, Linda Grace,” he said under his breath. He should have given her more of his time. Not just at meals and evening devotionals, but always. And it was a mistake he wasn’t about to repeat.
He slapped the side of the sleigh. The black painted wood could use a coat of varnish and perhaps another of wax, but it would get them where they were going.
“We’re going to ride in that?” Lilly Ruth’s eyes were as wide as saucers.
“Jah.” He smiled.
“Yay!” Constance cheered. “That’ll be fun.”
“Help me push it out so I can hitch up the horse.” He didn’t really need their help, but this was as much for them as it was for him and he wanted them to be a part of it all.
Together they pushed the sleigh out of the carriage house and into the crystal-white snow.
Constance ran to the barn and brought out Ginger, the mare Jess used to pull the buggy.
He hitched up the horse as the girls jogged in place to help stay warm.
“Everybody in,” he called. They clambered aboard and Jess spread his new quilt across their legs.
“Where are we going?” Hope asked.
Jess just smiled. “We’re going to get you a mamm for Christmas.”
“What’s that racket?” Sarah looked up from the pan of filling she was tossing together. They were due at her aunt and uncle’s for Christmas dinner in a couple of hours. Bernice was thankful it was only a short walk to the house. With all the snow the night before, it would be a while before they got the roads plowed and they could get their buggies out.
After yesterday’s debacle at Jess Schmucker’s house, Bernice had cried and prayed herself to sleep. She had been a fool to think that Jess would be interested in someone like her. Especially since he had made his intentions very clear.
But she had awakened this morning with renewed spirits. It was the Lord’s birthday. She couldn’t be sad today. Tomorrow might be a different story, but for today she was going to celebrate and spend time with her family. She would be grateful for all the things she did have and not remorseful over the ones that she didn’t.
“I don’t know,” Bernice answered. She had been so caught up in her own thoughts that she had barely noticed the sound in the first place.
“There it is again.” Sarah rinsed her hands, dried them on a towel, then peeked out the front window. “Uh, Bernice?”
“Jah?”
“You’re going to want to see this.”
Bernice went over to stand by her cousin. Something in Sarah’s tone sent her heart pounding. “What is it?”
There in her front yard were Jess Schmucker and his girls in a beautiful sleigh.
“Bernice!” he called.
She pushed past Sarah and whipped open the front door. The blas
t of cold air nearly took her breath away. She wrapped her sweater a little tighter around her as she stepped out onto the front stoop.
“Jess Schmucker, what are you doing?”
He stood up in the sleigh. “Bernice Yoder, I’ve come to ask you to marry me.”
The girls cheered and called to her from their seat in the sleigh. They were wearing the scarves she had made for them and the sight nearly brought tears to her eyes.
Her heart gave a hard thump. “What?”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m looking for a new mother for my children.”
She bit back her sigh. “And that’s why you want to marry me?” For a moment she had been hopeful that he felt the same for her as she did for him.
He stepped out of the buggy and started toward her, trudging through the snow to her side. The girls stayed in the sleigh watching, their breath little puffs of smoke around their heads.
“No,” he said as he came closer. He smelled like pine and outdoors and everything good in the world.
What was the question?
He reached out one gloved hand and touched the backs of his fingers to her cheek.
Bernice closed her eyes and savored the touch.
“I came here for me.”
“You did?” She opened her eyes. He looked serious enough.
“Jah. See, somehow in all my plans I left out something really important.”
Bernice swallowed hard, not daring to let her hopes rise any higher. “And what was that?”
“Love.”
Hope thumped hard in her chest.
“I love you, Bernice Yoder. I think I have since the first time you came to the house and were all—” He waved a hand around, but didn’t finish.
Heat filled her cheeks. “I was only trying to help.”
“I know that. Now.” He chuckled. “And I could use some of that help.”
“Jah?” she asked.
He nodded. “For the rest of my life.”
“I love you, Jess Schmucker.”