“We’re here.”
Lydia’s soft, reassuring voice seemed to float over to him. The moment the turn signal stopped its light clicking sound, his chest tightened with uncertainty. As the Schultz home loomed in front of them, he realized that he probably wouldn’t have the opportunity to enjoy Lydia’s company again.
He frowned and attempted to find a way to deal with it. As his gaze landed on the second hand that circled the small clock inside of the dash, he wondered how his life could have taken such a drastic turn within the past hour.
Even though he’d just met her, for some reason, that particular thought brought on an unsettling knot inside of his chest. But what was he feeling? And why? What he was certain of was that meeting Lydia had stirred something inside of him that less than an hour ago, he’d never known existed. And the moment he would leave her drive, he was sure he wouldn’t forget her.
As he tried to make sense of it all, he sat very still, delaying turning off his truck. A woman inside the home waved a friendly hand to them from the front window. John responded and admitted what was inevitable. It was time to let Lydia go.
With huge regret, he pushed his gear stick into park. A silence that was an eerie combination of comfort and regret lingered between them while the wind met the truck and the soft flow of heat oozed from the vents in front of them. John swallowed an emotional knot that blocked his throat.
I’m in a predicament I’ve never encountered. His fingers stiffened on the steering column. He was quick to note that Lydia didn’t budge, either. Did she feel the same way? Did she hate that this would be their first and last time together?
He didn’t want to say good-bye to her. And to his dismay, he yearned to preserve their time together. Wanted to explain how he felt. But what did he feel?
He certainly couldn’t tell her if he wasn’t even sure himself. While he considered his state of helplessness, he acknowledged that their time together had to end.
And to make matters worse, he couldn’t tell her what was on his mind. That he didn’t want to leave. That he wanted to see her again. And again. In this situation, his thoughts and voicing them were totally inappropriate. After all, the beautiful girl next to him was Amish. He was Mennonite.
Not only that, but although out of the several Mennonite churches in the area his was the most liberal, and even though he and Lydia both practiced Christianity and believed in the same God, the rules they lived by were as different as night and day.
Admitting defeat, he turned the key. Immediately, the warmth coming from the vents disappeared, and the temperature inside the cab dropped a couple of notches.
John turned. Lydia did, too. Their gazes locked in what seemed to be a mutual understanding. As John took in the white flecks that danced in her deep blue eyes, an unprecedented shiver that was a combination of happiness and contentment darted up his spine and landed at the nape of his neck.
But he didn’t shrug to rid the comforting, unfamiliar sensation. Whatever Lydia made him feel prompted the corners of lips to lift.
Say something. As a light whistle of wind created a noise that reminded John of steam coming from a teakettle, he admitted to himself that his life was pretty much the same routine every day.
Of course, issues with his siblings came up out of the blue that needed to be dealt with, but all in all, he was pretty good at predicting what would happen.
And that’s the way John preferred it. Unlike the girl next to him, he liked things to stay the same. But until now, he’d never really appreciated his uneventful life. He faced a situation with Lydia that he wanted to be different.
He acknowledged that not seeing her again would be something he needed to reconcile with. Because he would have to find a way to accept the void she’d leave in his life. It disturbed him that the girl beside him forced something unrecognizable inside of him. He frowned.
He knew this area well and had glimpsed the Schultz house on numerous occasions in passing. Finally, Lydia unfastened her seat belt. The light metal click prompted John to do the same. She motioned with her hand to a small one-story building with a window on both sides of a simple-looking wooden door.
Lydia lifted her chin. “That’s Mamma’s store, John. Ever since I can remember, she’s had her own business. And I help make home-made things for customers, too. You know, jams; raspberry is the most popular. And she sews beautiful table linens and pillow covers on her old Singer sewing machine she keeps in our living room.”
“Does she get much business?”
Lydia offered a quick, enthusiastic nod. “Jah. Especially around the holidays. You see, Mamma loves to cook, and she also makes extra money by having a buffet at our house twice a month. People say no one can match her homemade chicken and dumplings. They find out about it through brochures at the Welcome Center. It keeps us all busy.”
“Sounds like your mother’s a talented lady.”
Lydia lowered her gaze to the floor and nodded. When she lifted her chin, she smiled. He noticed the light pink shade that colored her cheeks. “Daddy’s busy, too. He farms and makes cabinets.”
John glimpsed the wooden fence that extended from the large red barn. Two goats ran loose in the side yard. A horse trotted, head held high, through the bare pasture inside of the fence. Large windows at the front of the house revealed bright orange flames in the fireplace.
Finally, John got out and stepped to Lydia’s side. As he squeezed the handle, her door opened. He steadied her and helped her to the ground. “Let’s go inside. Then I’ll get the candles.”
The expression on Lydia’s face reflected eager hope. “Come meet my parents. Would you join us for dinner?”
* * *
As John entered the Schultz home behind Lydia, she offered a brief introduction to her father. John quickly shook hands with the stocky man of medium height who greeted them at the front door. “John King.”
A set of light tan brows narrowed in skepticism.
John quickly explained his presence. “Your daughter needed a lift, and I happened to be there to help.”
“Eli Shultz.”
Lydia stepped in. “Daddy, I fell and twisted my ankle walking home.”
She lifted her sore foot and pointed to the injured area. When her father didn’t respond, she raised the pitch of her voice. “Please don’t worry. I’m okay.”
She darted John a glance and smiled. “Thanks to John. He picked up my candles that spilled and gave me a lift. I’m grateful for the ride and asked him to stay for dinner.”
As John inhaled the scent of chicken broth that filled the kitchen, his stomach growled. He realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“I’m Miriam.” A petite lady wearing an apron and white kapp quickly stepped forward to welcome John. But her attention shifted to Lydia, who took a seat at the dining room table. As John chitchatted with Lydia’s gruff-voiced father, he glimpsed Lydia removing her shoe and her mother making an ice pack. It was easy to hear their conversation.
“We’ve got to get some ice on that right away.”
“Mamma, it’s much better now. At first, it really hurt.”
Automatically, Eli and John joined the ladies. “You’ve got a mighty nice lump there,” her father cut in as he peered down at the knot below her ankle. “I reckon your maem will get you fixed up in no time at all.”
He turned his attention back to John. “Let’s take that coat off and get you comfortable. Are you from that bakery in town?”
John nodded with a courteous smile. As his gaze locked with Eli’s, the fire popped. At the same time, John caught the sound of something boiling on the stove. From the smell, he knew it was chicken broth.
Eli waved toward a small hall bathroom. “Go ahead and wash up. Dinner’s about ready.”
* * *
A mélange of delicious aromas filled the area around the kitchen table. Mamma’s ice patch numbed Lydia’s ankle as her father said the blessing. “Amen.”
When Lydia opened her ey
es, she propped her swollen ankle on the rolled-up towel Mamma had made so the ice patch wouldn’t budge. Raising her gaze to the long oak table, Lydia smiled a little as she accepted the chicken and dumplings, helped herself, and carefully passed the heavy white dish to her father.
As she regarded the plate in front of her, she laughed inside. As usual, there was very little chicken and lots of noodles. But it was okay. Her mother always made extra pasta so Lydia could indulge without guilt of unbalancing the contents.
But right now, Lydia’s focus was on the kind, gentle man across from her. Their gazes locked for a couple of seconds. A warmth filled her chest while their eyes connected in a mutual understanding.
His reaction was a warm smile. She returned the expression as silverware clicked lightly against china. Her dad poured cream into his coffee and stirred it. Mamma buttered a homemade roll and added raspberry jelly.
Before taking a bite, Mamma directed her attention to Lydia. “Is your ankle better?”
Her father cut in. “Judging by that large knot, you did a fine job of twisting it.”
Concern edged Mamma’s soft voice. “The ice surely helps. Before bed, I’ll rub some apple vinegar on the swelling.”
Lydia nodded. “Thanks, Mamma. It will be fine.” Lydia was sure Mamma had already thought of every homeopathic remedy available. And Mamma always did the right things. With her oils and herbs, no one in the family stayed sick for long. But Lydia didn’t want to think or talk about her injury right now. She considered this dinner with John bonus time. And she wanted to enjoy every moment she had with him.
As Lydia peppered the chicken broth, her mother and father chitchatted about seeing Anna and Jacob for the holiday. They were coming to visit; it’s just that the time hadn’t been confirmed yet.
Lydia was sure Anna had a lot of decisions to make with her husband’s large family of seven brothers, their wives, and children along with the Schultz relatives. And she and her husband would make sure that everyone was seen over the holiday.
Lydia glanced up at John as he finished his last dumpling. He, too, belonged to a large clan. And she was sure he kept busy over the holidays visiting his family.
All along, she’d been aware of his bakery, yet she’d never had any personal interaction with him. He looked up to catch her watching him. Hot blood rushed to her cheeks, and she merely offered an embarrassed smile.
But the moment he grinned back, Lydia’s heart did a joyous somersault. Her response stunned her, and she wasn’t sure what to think. She’d never experienced such a reaction to a man, but she didn’t question her excitement. She reasoned that such a response to someone who’d come to her aid was all too logical.
His much-appreciated act of kindness had spared her a very long walk home with a swollen ankle. And the warm cabin of his truck had been a welcomed contrast to the chilling wind. She was grateful her family could offer him dinner, and that he’d stayed.
She considered herself fortunate. Realizing that her thoughts had interrupted her from barely tasting her favorite dish, she focused on Mamma’s culinary efforts.
The dumplings finally helped her to relax and to even better appreciate John King. Lydia’s father led the conversation, making sure, as usual, that everyone knew that Mamma’s chicken and dumplings were his favorite meal.
“So you were at the Christmas Fair today?”
John nodded. “I was. Our family donated cinnamon rolls.” He paused to take a drink of water. Ice cubes clinked against his glass as he returned it to the white coaster.
“Yes,” Mamma cut in. “I was there early to get a dozen rolls.”
After taking a sip of coffee and returning the mug to the wooden tabletop, Lydia’s dad swallowed and offered a satisfied nod. “Word has it that the fair was a hit.”
Lydia chimed in. “Daddy, it was so much fun to work with our neighbors for something every one of us might need in the future. Who knows when we’ll use a nursing home?”
Mamma set her glass of ice water down and swallowed. “I can’t wait to hear all about it. That new wing will surely help a lot of folks.”
She turned to John. “As you’re probably aware, the Amish don’t send family members to nursing homes unless there’s no other option. And we’re learning that sometimes, it’s necessary.”
Lydia piped in. “Like last year. When Mamma broke her hip. We wanted to take care of her here at the house, but the doctor recommended four weeks in the nursing home. He believed she’d heal faster here.”
She rolled her eyes. “It took a long time to convince us to have her stay there, but we’re glad we finally heeded his recommendation.”
Mamma cut in. “You see, I needed therapy every day. And they started it right after the operation. Staying in the nursing home made it much easier on all of us for that reason.”
When John raised an interested brow, Lydia went on to explain. “At first, I thought it would be bad of us to do it that way. I mean, Mamma’s taken care of us when we’re down. And I thought we should do the same for her. But when you think about it, staying at the nursing home really made sense. And looking back, we’re glad we did it.”
Eli interrupted in a gruff tone. “Before the operation, we didn’t realize how difficult it would be for Miriam to get around afterward. So many things were hard that we hadn’t even considered. Like stepping down the front stairs.”
He gave a frustrated shake of his head. “It didn’t take long to figure out that if she’d stayed here, we would have had to get her into a vehicle every day, which wasn’t easy. Not to mention, we’d need to hire a driver to take us to therapy, then hire another driver to bring her back. And of course, getting inside of the car was the most challenging task of all. Even with Lydia, Anna, and me all helping. And it was painful for Miriam. To be honest, staying there worked.”
A long silence passed while silverware clicked lightly against china plates. As Lydia helped herself to more dumplings, her mamma passed extra rolls around the table in a light wicker basket that had been handed down from Lydia’s grandmother.
“I’ll be honest, John, I didn’t leave easily. Knowing I wouldn’t be home to make dinner every night was harder on me than I’d anticipated. And while I was away, I worried round the clock about the three of them having enough to eat. Even if they did spend a lot of time at the nursing home offering me support. But looking back, those four weeks went by quickly.”
She made a snap with her fingers and lifted her palms to the ceiling in a dismissive gesture. “And when I finally came home, I’d made huge progress. Before I knew it, I was back in my own bed. Oh, I still needed help stepping into the buggy, of course.”
She grinned from ear to ear. “That was even more of a challenge than stepping into the car. But over all, getting around was so much easier. And we did things that made life easier. Like putting a handle to the right of the door.”
She motioned with her hand. “Eli added a few enhancements.”
John smiled a little. “That’s a touching story. So this Christmas Fair held a personal meaning for you and your family.”
Lydia nodded. “Jah. It will help others. At the same time, it’s important to us.” She paused for a shrug. “Because of Mamma. And a few others from our church spent time recuperating after procedures. We’ve totally changed our perception, John. What we learned is that nursing homes are a godsend when you need them. We’ll never underestimate their worth.”
“That’s right.”
As Lydia downed the chicken and dumplings, she eyed John from her peripheral vision while savoring the taste of the broth.
“Mrs. Schultz, your rolls are delicious.”
Her smile widened. Small wrinkles crinkled underneath her eyes. “I take that as a huge compliment coming from King’s Bakery!”
He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m serious. And I think I might just have to ask for your recipe. Now I know who to come to when I need expertise.” He winked.
Lydia piped in. “We’ll mak
e you a deal. Mamma’s recipe for your grandmother’s cinnamon roll secret.”
John merely grinned while Lydia explained to her folks.
As she listened to John converse with her parents, she tried to remind herself that this was their first meeting. They discussed weather and crops as if they’d been talking about those subjects forever.
Amazingly, it seemed as if the man who helped to run King’s Bakery was part of her family. And to her astonishment, it didn’t seem to matter that John was Mennonite or that they were Amish. They sounded like friends sitting down to talk after a hard day’s work. That very thought brought a satisfied trickle of joy up Lydia’s arms.
She barely tasted her food as she continued to take in the comforting scene around her. She went on to consider the day and her new friend. While her folks asked him questions about his business and his siblings, Lydia gave great thought to the man who appeared quite comfortable with her and her parents.
The more she listened to him interact with her parents, the more certain she became that there must be a lot more to the eldest of twelve than met the eye. He spoke with ease about the price of corn and beans.
To her surprise, he knew quite a bit about woodworking. And they touched on the new vet in their area, Dr. Zimmerman, when Lydia learned that the King family milked their own cows for the butter they used at the bakery.
And his genuine interest in what her mother and father said warmed her heart. She enjoyed the gentle lift of John’s voice. His expressive eyes showed concern.
Her heart fluttered. And there was something about his smile that prompted her to return his warm expression. From the moment she’d met him, she’d been convinced that he could be her very best friend. Next to Anna, of course.
A beautiful light shade of green flecked in his hazel eyes when he grinned. The joy that emanated from him when he spoke or gestured was surely happiness from the Lord. Lydia couldn’t help but think about how wonderful it would be to spend more time with him.
She was fully aware that although Mennonites worshiped the same God as the Amish, their style of living differed. In their area, there were several Mennonite churches, and all held to slightly different standards.
The Amish Christmas Candle Page 20