Christmas in Apple Ridge

by Cindy Woodsmall

  Daed focused on her. “Was iss letz with du?”

  His accusing tone frustrated her. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Some of my earliest memories are of you holding my hands while we prayed. You taught me to pay attention to God’s leading. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  He shook his finger at her again. “I told you to be quiet.”

  “And then you asked me a question.” Her voice went up a few decibels. Why was it easier nowadays to live with strangers than visit with her family?

  “I’ve put up with more than enough since you and Daniel parted ways. I’ve allowed much more freedom than I should have, because I blame myself for having encouraged that relationship. But we both have to accept what happened and start fresh.” Daed studied her, then nodded as if answering a question he’d asked himself. “You need to work out your notice at that store and with your roommates. I want you home by Christmas, and I will not discuss this again.”

  Sadie looked across the small kitchen to her mother and grandmother, beseeching them to defend her. Mammi Lee lowered her eyes, but disappointment and hurt clouded her mom’s face. Mamm wiped a stray tear, clearly distressed.

  Her parents had come all this way to share some time with the Lee side of the family, and even though her mom and grandmother had been cooking all day for a family gathering tonight at an uncle’s place, no one would be in a mood to go after this heated argument.

  The three stood there, staring at Sadie, wanting her to repent of her dreams. She swallowed hard, trying not to feel broken. “I tried to change the subject and not say anything to upset you. If you don’t want to know, please don’t make me answer your questions.”

  “You’re our daughter and a baptized member of our community.” Mamm pulled a tissue from the hidden pocket of her black apron. “How can we not ask questions?” She wiped her eyes.

  “It’s time for you to come home.” Daed crossed his arms. “A new Amish family has moved to Brim from Ohio. They have seven unmarried sons. Five are of marrying age. If you were home—”

  “Daed, stop.” Her parents didn’t understand her any more than she understood them. All she wanted was to use her faith in Christ on the mission field. Was that so wrong?

  Daed rubbed the back of his neck, breaking his stony stare. He turned and went into the next room.

  Mamm cleared her throat and pulled a roll of aluminum foil out of a drawer. “Let’s line a cardboard box with this and put the food in it.” She sidestepped Sadie, speaking to Mammi Lee. “That way, if any of our dishes spill, it won’t leak onto our dresses.”

  Mammi Lee left and returned with a large box. “It may take two this size to pack up all the food.”

  They acted as if no one had just trampled over Sadie’s plans. Why couldn’t Mamm see past Daed’s fears and think for herself? Why did she have to agree with him every time?

  A humid breeze drifted across the room, and the great outdoors called to Sadie. She longed to sneak away, saddle a horse, and ride across fields of green, with no one seeing her but God—an opportunity she didn’t have often in Stone Creek.

  “Sadie,” Daed called.

  She went through the tiny Daadi Haus and into the living room. He folded the newspaper in his hand and pointed at the couch. She sat and waited.

  The balmy air carried the aroma of gardenias, and she could imagine all the wonderful fragrances she’d experience on a long horseback ride.

  “I’m sorry I lost my temper. I’ll warn you now that I’m losing patience with your stubbornness. And I should.” He tapped the newspaper on the arm of the chair. “You’ve got to stop running. Daniel hurt you deeply, and his lies have only made it worse. I understand that. But it’s time to come home and find someone else.”

  She bit her bottom lip, wanting to correct him. Yes, Daniel had crushed her, and his lies humiliated her, but she’d quit pining over him years ago. What had happened between them had freed her in a way nothing else could. But if she told her Daed that, he’d be more determined that she return home.

  His voice droned on and on.

  During her three short visits to Brim since leaving, she’d been careful to say little, hoping not to stir up any trouble. She’d never shame her parents or siblings or community by leaving the Order, but she didn’t fit easily inside the church anymore. She was best on her own, listening closely for God’s voice. He hadn’t yet let her down. If He had, she would be married to a lying cheat. So until God gave her direction, she’d do her best to keep the peace with her family.

  She took a deep breath and focused on the simple pleasure of being at her grandmother’s.

  The smell of spices hung in the air, hinting at the promise of tonight’s feast at her uncle Jesse’s house, less than a mile away. The Amish didn’t celebrate the Fourth of July, because doing so would celebrate a war and the killing that comes with war. Still, it was a national holiday, so they often used it as a time to gather with family. Some Amish youth would attend the town’s show of fireworks.

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  Sadie’s thoughts jerked back to her father. The honest answer was no, so she shook her head.

  He slung the newspaper onto the floor. “Whether three hundred miles from home or on a different continent or in the same room, you make talking with you ridiculously difficult. Which is the way you want it, right?”

  “Okay.” Mamm walked into the room. “The food is packed up. It’s time to go.”

  Daed stood. “Sadie will stay here. The family will ask her questions, and I don’t like any of her answers. It’s not a good influence for the younger ones.”

  Mamm blinked. “After she came all this way to be with the family?”

  It was Sadie’s turn to be shocked. Mamm never questioned Daed.

  Her father tucked in a section of his shirt. “If she had been paying any attention to me, I’d have let her go. But since she’s determined to heed only her own thoughts, she won’t miss spending time with her cousins.”

  Daed’s judgment was nearly her undoing, but she held her tongue. Without another word he went to the door and held it open while her mom and grandmother toted their baked goods from the house.

  Sadie couldn’t believe he was leaving her here! She was a twenty-three-year-old woman, not a child. If her father insisted on grounding her from the festivities with her family, she’d be tempted to saddle up Mammi Lee’s horse Bay and enjoy a ride. It’d be nice to spend a few hours pretending that nothing owned her except freedom.

  Mamm came back into the house and walked over to her. She lingered, looking as if she wanted to divulge a secret.

  “I’m fine, Mamm. Go on before Daed gets angry with you too.”

  Mamm smiled. “He’s not as bad as he sounds when he’s trying to reason with you. He could complain to the church leaders, and they’d pull you home by your apron strings. But he hasn’t. For the last two years he’s feared that if we didn’t get you home, we’d lose any chance of you returning to your roots.”

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I’ll visit when I can, but I don’t believe I’m meant to live in Brim.”

  “You thought you were at one time.” Her mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Are you sure it’s God’s call you hear and not your own?”

  Sadie looked out the window, praying for the right words. The emerald leaves on the gardenia bush swayed in the breeze, and a robin disappeared between the thick greenery, probably nesting. Did God want her in Peru, or did she simply long to be as far away as possible from the memory of her greatest pain?

  “Sadie?”

  She lifted her eyes, hating that tears had begun to well in them. “Can anyone be positive about such a thing?”

  Mamm cupped Sadie’s face in her hands. “You’d like the Lantz men from Ohio. Two have already found wives.” She grinned. “But the one I think would be perfect for you isn’t seeing anyone.”

  “Ya, and how do you know that? Because he says so … like Daniel did?”
Taken aback by her own words, Sadie winced. Maybe she wasn’t over the pain as much as she’d thought.

  “Child.” Mamm’s singular word was filled with compassion and dismay. She kissed Sadie’s forehead. “We’ll be home after midnight.”

  “Give everyone my love.” She swallowed hard, unsure if she meant the words or if she was using them as a jab. It was absurd that she wouldn’t be at her uncle’s home to give them her love.

  She flopped onto the couch and stared at the wall. The sunlight faded, and darkness began to deepen. The hands on the mantle clock marked the passing hours. Was everything she longed to do wrong? Or was her Daed overreaching his authority simply because he could? Well, he could as long as she honored him by obeying.

  The desire to ride swept through her again, but when her Daed had left her behind, he’d intended for her to stay in the house.

  A few fireworks popped and crackled in the distance. She sat up and lit a kerosene lantern. The dim yellow glow made a large circle around her. She went to a table and picked up her grandmother’s German Bible. A tattered cloth bookmark stuck out of its pages, and she opened it to that spot—Hebrews, chapter 1. She returned to the couch and read, stopping from time to time to think and pray, hoping the words would speak to her.

  Levi walked from the flaming bonfire in the Stoltzfuses’ backyard toward the barn. He’d known the evening would end like this, with him leaving alone while others watched.

  “Levi?”

  He turned to see Ruth Esh.

  Even under the dark sky, her eighteen-year-old face glowed with pink hues, probably because of her forwardness at following him. “I wanted to wish you a happy Fourth.”

  That’s not all she wanted, and he knew it. She’d like him to offer to take her home.

  “I hope you enjoy your off day tomorrow, Ruth.” He tipped his hat. “G’night.”

  She continued standing there, brushing off mosquitoes or rubbing spots where she already had been bitten.

  He squelched the desire to walk off. “The insects are less likely to bother you if you’re near the fire.”

  “It’s barely after nine. Don’t you want to stay a little longer? The Stoltzfuses have lawn chairs set up on the back hill facing the town. They said we’ll be able to see some fireworks … and afterward maybe you wouldn’t mind taking me home.”

  His horseless carriage stood outside the barn, lined up with two dozen others. But all he wanted to do was leave the rig here and ride home bareback.

  Levi admired her courage in asking him right out. “That’s really nice of you, but I need to go.” He tipped his hat again, hoping she’d walk back to the group. “Evening.”

  “Bye.”

  The moment she turned toward the house, he strode for the barn. Once in the dark building, he lit a lantern. Dust floated in the air, easily seen in the soft glow of the lamp. A long row of bridles hung on a dirty plank wall, held up by ten-penny nails. Horses lined the feed trough, grazing on hay while waiting for their owners to return and hitch them to their carriages.

  He wanted to bridle Amigo and see what the thoroughbred could really do. Elmer Stoltzfus wouldn’t mind if Levi left his rig here and borrowed a bridle. He took one off the wall and walked through the dimly lit barn until he found Amigo. He slid the bit into the horse’s mouth.

  He led the animal to the lantern, extinguished the flame, then climbed up bareback. He’d take the route where he wouldn’t be seen along the way. Maybe he’d stop by the creek and toss a few stones before calling it a night.

  When his pocket vibrated, he pulled out his phone. Levi was allowed a cell phone for work purposes, as were others who needed them for business. If he followed the Old Ways, he’d have tucked the phone in a drawer when he got home from delivering a gazebo last Friday night. But he liked being able to text with friends. Amigo’s uneven movement made it a little challenging to read the message, but he saw enough to know his younger cousin was harassing him about leaving the singing alone … again. If Matthew had any sense, he wouldn’t be engaged at nineteen years old to a girl who was seventeen. They couldn’t possibly know themselves well enough to make a lifetime promise.

  Levi had been given a gift: insight into the gamble involved with loving a woman. No wonder the apostle Paul said that if a man could stay single without sinning against God, he should do so. His family had witnessed firsthand that women were not worth the risk. So why did they always press Levi on the subject?

  Frustration circled, and Levi gripped the phone as if wanting to squeeze the life out of it. He clutched the reins and urged the horse to go faster and faster. The muggy night air felt cool against his skin. After a few moments several loud booms rang out. Fireworks.

  Without warning, the horse reared up on his two back legs, whinnying, and the phone flew out of Levi’s hand.

  “Whoa!” He tugged on the reins, trying to bring the animal under control, but the air vibrated with another round of fireworks. Amigo reared and kicked higher and faster.

  “Easy, boy.” Levi’s voice wavered like Jell-O being shaken, and Amigo bucked harder. The darkness around Levi blurred, and when the horse began to spin, Levi was no longer sure where the road lay and where the patch of woods was. Amigo came to a sudden stop, and Levi sailed over the horse’s head.

  He landed with a horrid thud. Pain shot through every inch of him, and he couldn’t catch his breath. He tried to relax, hoping that he just had the air knocked out of him.

  God, please.

  His breath returned with a vengeance, and he sucked in heavy air. But pain ricocheted through his back, and dread surrounded him even more than the darkness of night. He needed help, but he could feel consciousness slipping away. Was he going to die here, a place where no one was likely to find him until Old Man Hostetler decided to cut his hay again … sometime next spring?

  It hurt to breathe. A sharp pain skittered up and down his torso and to the top of his head. He felt as if he were rolling on shards of glass. But he couldn’t move.

  He needed help, and he could get it … if he could get to his phone.

  Anxiety grew like a shadow from the ground and stood over him, looming all around as if it were strong enough to snatch his life right out of him.

  Levi pried his eyes open, almost startled when he didn’t see a menacing Grim Reaper above him, poised to strike. The black sky reminded him how sinister the world felt at times, but then the stars looked like white marbles that he could hold in the palm of his hand.

  If he lived through this night, he’d look back on this moment and recall seeing the universe in all its majesty and recognizing he was only a powerless man staring into the vastness of an all-powerful God.

  The sounds of night faded as he slipped into darkness.

  Jonah eased into the bedroom, a cup of hot tea in hand.

  Beth opened her eyes for a moment. “I’m awake.” His wife sat upright, holding her head.

  Jonah adjusted the pillows. She sank against them and then held out her hands for the mug.

  With her eyes closed, she took a sip. “As soon as my head stops spinning, I’ll be fine.”

  He sat in the chair beside her, admiring her beauty even after such a hard few days.

  She blinked and then focused on him. “Oh, honey, stop looking so sad. It had to happen. We were both perfectly healthy for a year leading up to the wedding, and we’ve had seven months of wedded bliss without so much as a cold, even through the long winter months of serving hundreds of customers. So it’s no wonder you picked up a stomach flu and shared it with me. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

  “I was better in twenty-four hours. You’re going on three days.”

  “My goal is to have these symptoms linger until you feel so guilty you’ll never share another virus with me.”

  “You accomplished complete dishonor on my part the first minute you turned pale.”

  She chuckled.

  He loved her laugh. Her voice. Her heart. Her tenacity and stubbornness and exube
rance and …

  Jonah took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. She had no idea what she did to him, and his desire to take care of her, to protect her from all harm grew stronger every day. But a man could not share these feelings with a woman like Beth. She didn’t want to be taken care of. She wanted to make strong decisions and carry them out. And that’s what she did and had been doing since long before they met.

  Still, this illness concerned him. He cleared his throat. “I want you to be seen tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be seen. I’ll wake up feeling better, and customers will see me all day.”

  “Beth, don’t be difficult. You know what I mean.” He’d feel better once she saw the doctor. Doctors who tended only to the Plain community set up their clinics to be a one-stop answer. Otherwise the multitude of uninsured Amish and Mennonites wouldn’t go. So whether a patient needed a severed digit sewn back on or a cancer screening or an x-ray, Dr. Baxter took care of it at his office.

  Beth crossed her arms, a slight pout on her lips. “We’ve been advertising tomorrow’s specials since Memorial Day.”

  “And I’ll see to it the store runs smoothly.” He kissed her hand again.

  “Lizzy’s off on another trip with Omar. You’ll need me.”

  Beth’s aunt had married the bishop, so the two of them traveled regularly to visit the other church districts where Bishop Omar would be the guest preacher. It was all part of being a bishop. But since the wedding, Lizzy traveled more weeks than she was home.

  Jonah squeezed her hand. “I’m sure I’ll miss you being at the store, but I’ll be fine, and most of the hired girls will be there to help too.”

  “It’s the Fourth. The doctor’s office isn’t likely to be open.”