Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe old man Rufus turned Morris out of the house and hired a new fellow to work the dairy farm. I thought our onkel and his landlord were friends.”
“I can believe it,” Clara said with a shiver. “Rufus Kuhns is an evil man. He’s worse than our uncle.”
Greta nodded in agreement. Rufus had tried to coerce Clara into marrying him by threatening all of them with eviction and physical violence. “Morris is out of a job and has nowhere to live. He is dependent on us, the very women he mistreated for years. It must be a bitter pill for him.”
It was for her. For all of them.
Naomi sighed heavily. “Greta, you are the only logical choice to go and fetch him here.”
She looked up startled. “Me? Why me?”
Naomi’s gaze softened with sympathy. “Lizzie can’t go. Betsy has a job and shouldn’t miss work, besides she is too young to travel so far alone. Clara is a newlywed. She has a new husband and three stepchildren to think about. It would be cruel to part her from the children so soon. I’m not related to Morris. He might find it uncomfortable traveling with me.”
“I don’t care if he is comfortable or not!” Greta couldn’t do it. She couldn’t spend two days shut in a car with him.
“I don’t know how I would manage without you for even a day, Naomi.” Joseph reached to take his new wife’s hand.
Greta saw the warm look he exchanged with Naomi. It seemed everyone in her family had found someone to love. Everyone but her. Betsy was being courted by a local Amish fellow that everyone liked. Lizzie had married Carl last fall, and they were expecting their first child. Clara had wed Ethan Gingerich only a few weeks ago.
Greta had refused the few men who had asked her out. Marriage wasn’t in her future, certainly not marriage to an Amish man. She wanted to become a counselor and help abused women. To do that would require more education than the eight years the Amish allowed. Leaving the community she loved was a difficult decision—one she wasn’t sure she was ready to make. She had only discussed it with Clara. No one else knew what she was thinking of doing.
Greta didn’t begrudge any of her sisters their happiness. They deserved it and more. How many times had her actions and her words brought their uncle’s wrath down on them? Far more that she cared to count. If only she had been stronger. If only she had stood up to him. If only she had told someone about the abuse, but she hadn’t. They had all lived inside a circle of fear and shame until Lizzie found the courage to break out. It was because of Lizzie that they found a refuge of love and caring in their grandfather’s home. God had rewarded Lizzie’s selfless bravery.
Greta didn’t possess such courage. The thought of spending time with Morris made her cringe. She couldn’t do it. Panic hit her full in the face. She crumpled the letter and jumped to her feet. “Someone else will have to go.”
She ran out of the room and up the stairs with her heart hammering wildly in her chest. She was staring out her bedroom window struggling to regain her composure when Naomi came in. Without turning around, Greta said, “I can’t do it.”
Naomi slipped an arm across Greta’s shoulders. “Betsy has said she will go.”
Greta flinched. Her little sister was no match for Morris. “Betsy is too young. He’s too mean. You don’t know how he is. He can make her feel worthless with nothing but words. He doesn’t even need his stick to beat her down.”
“I’m not saying it will be easy for her, but she’s willing to do it to spare you.”
Greta bit the corner of her lip. “I’m afraid, Naomi.”
“Of what, child?”
“That I’ll turn back into the groveling, miserable person I was when I lived with him. He called me Mouse because I was always scurrying out of his path. I existed—I didn’t live. I was dead inside.”
She still was. In spite of all she had read about surviving abuse, she knew Morris still had a hold over her. “I don’t have Lizzie’s courage.”
Naomi enfolded her in a fierce hug. “Courage is fear that has said its prayers. God will give you all you need if you depend on Him.”
Drawing strength from the woman she had come to love and admire, Greta nodded. Now it was her turn to be brave. To prove to herself and to him that she wasn’t worthless. “All right, I will go.”
Naomi pulled away to look into Greta’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
She would be coolly polite. She would ignore her uncle’s hurtful ways, and she would never, ever let him make her feel like an inadequate person again. “Ja.”
They returned to the kitchen, and both women took a seat at the table. Naomi said, “It’s settled. Greta will go.”
Afraid her sisters would read the fear in her eyes Greta kept her gaze on her hands clasped together on the table. “I’ll take the bus there and accompany him in the van on his journey. I’ll write to Morris and his bishop and tell them to expect me in four days. That should give them enough time to arrange everything.”
“Gott willing, you will be home two days later,” Naomi added.
Greta let out a deep sigh and looked around the table. “I really don’t want to bring him into this house.”
The sisters exchanged glances. Clara said, “We feel the same, but perhaps this is a test of our compassion. It is the Christmas season, after all. How can we abandon Onkel Morris, ill and alone, knowing that God sent His only Son into this world to teach us to care for one another, even those who hate us?”
“The right thing to do is not always the easy thing to do,” Betsy added in resignation.
“Perhaps his illness has shown Morris the error of his ways, and he is ready to mend our family fences,” Lizzie suggested in a falsely bright tone.
Greta wouldn’t count on it. Of all the ways she had imagined spending her first Christmas at her new home, none of them included sharing it with mean old Morris.
“Joseph, you have very wise granddaughters,” Naomi said with a tender smile.
He nodded. “That may be true, but I’m with Greta. I’ll take him in, but I don’t want the man here, either. Morris will find a way to ruin our Christmas. You mark my words.”
Copyright © 2014 by Patricia MacDonald
ISBN-13: 9781460344125
A Rancher for Christmas
Copyright © 2014 by Brenda Minton
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