The Christmas Cradle

by Charlotte Hubbard

  He couldn’t endure another of Lena’s crying spells, so Josiah focused on the chili and corn bread Miriam had brought home from her lunch shift. The meat and beans weren’t quite as spicy as he preferred them, but the moist corn bread filled his mouth with a wonderful sweet-salty combination.

  “Savilla’s your sister, jah?” Ben asked. He took some celery from the relish plate and passed it to Josiah. “I’m not doubtin’ your decision, understand, but if you’re here and Savilla’s in Bloomfield, can she make a go of caterin’ without your grilled meats? What sort of income does she have now?”

  Josiah sighed. How did this man pinpoint potential problems that he himself hadn’t had a glimmer about?

  “What if you stayed in Willow Ridge and cooked a supper shift at the Sweet Seasons?” Rebecca blurted out. “With Andy—our local nurse—telling Mamma to get more help, and no place around here that serves an evening meal, you could rake in some serious cash.”

  Josiah gazed across the table. Rebecca, too, had a gift for seeing problems and finding solutions, but that didn’t mean he’d go along with her ideas. For all he knew, this family had a hidden agenda for keeping him in Willow Ridge—reasons as underhanded as they claimed Hiram Knepp’s were.

  “Plenty of folks say they’d eat supper there,” Rebecca continued in a rush, “but we don’t have the staff to manage another shift. What with Rachel having her baby a couple of months ago and Rhoda getting married—and Mamma’s child due at Christmastime,” she added in a rising voice, “you’d be the answer to a lot of prayers, Josiah.”

  “That idea had occurred to me, too,” Miriam admitted with a girlish grin.

  “You could fetch your equipment and bring Savilla back to cook with you,” Lena chimed in. “You’d be set, Josiah!”

  Josiah’s head began spinning. It did seem more feasible to cook in an established café, yet he yearned for the excitement of building up Hiram’s new restaurant from its beginning. And he didn’t like it that the Hooleys, Rebecca, and Lena believed they’d just decided his future for him.

  “Let’s not put the cart before the horse,” Ben warned as he looked at the women. “After all, we don’t even know if Josiah can cook. We’ve not eaten his food—nor read any references from folks who have.”

  Josiah frowned. Why didn’t Ben trust him?

  “And I’d want you and Miriam to write up a business agreement, about the rent you’ll pay for usin’ her kitchen and utilities,” Ben said to Josiah. “You’ll have to hire some folks to help serve and clean up, too, because the gals who work for Miriam are already pullin’ a full load.”

  “I’d help for as long as I could,” Lena insisted. She gazed at Josiah with wide blue eyes. “You can do this! Doesn’t it feel like the hand of God’s been leading you here?”

  “I need to think about this—a lot,” Josiah added as he rose abruptly from the table.

  He couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. And he didn’t like it one bit that the ladies assumed he’d go along with their ideas—nor did he appreciate Ben’s requirements for a business agreement. Hiram Knepp had hired him sight unseen, without so much as a handshake, which was usually all most Plain folks required.

  And since when has Lena found religion? Where was God when she got pregnant? Where was He when my parents drowned? Is it any wonder that I doubt God led us to Willow Ridge?

  Josiah inhaled the frosty night air to settle his conflicting thoughts. He detested other people telling him what to do. He’d made his own decisions since he’d gotten out of school several years ago, and his life had gone just fine—until Lena had teased him beyond his control.

  Don’t listen to these people. What do they know?

  Josiah entered the barn, where the earthy scents of manure and horse feed soothed him. While Ben had done very well for himself in Willow Ridge—his beautiful new home and barn were evidence of his business sense—Josiah didn’t appreciate him being such a naysayer. Why didn’t Hooley believe he could cook? Who would make up a story about catering? The proof was in the pork chops—and the brisket and baked beans and other food he and Savilla dished up.

  As he climbed the ladder to drop a few bales of hay from the loft, Josiah’s temper rose and his thoughts spun faster. What if Miriam expected him to audition—to work during her day shift and prove himself? It was one thing for the neighbor ladies to cook at the Sweet Seasons, but it was another thing altogether if they thought he would peel potatoes and wash dishes and—

  “No women’s work for me, thank you very much!” Josiah hollered. “I’ll do this my way!” The echo of his voice in the high ceiling gave him a sense of release and satisfaction as the horses glanced up from their stalls.

  “Sounds like something I would’ve said at your age.”

  Josiah winced. Just inside the barn, Ben stood with his arms crossed, smiling. “My attitude cost me several years of productive life, considerin’ how I didn’t settle down with Miriam until I turned thirty-five,” he went on. “But jah, I left home to run my business my way.”

  Josiah stood stock-still, bracing for a sermon. Ben was a preacher, after all.

  “That’s why you’ll not partner with my wife until the details are in writing, Josiah,” Ben went on. “You’re too much like I was—like my brothers Luke and Ira, too. Reckless. Fearless. Careless,” he insisted. Then he shrugged. “But since you’re not gonna follow anybody else’s rules, I don’t have to worry about ya messin’ up Miriam’s business, do I?”

  Josiah’s lips twitched. He felt really stupid, but that was no reason to back down or act as though he was sorry. “Nope.”

  “I’m glad we understand each other,” Ben replied. “Denki for doin’ my horse chores. It’s gut, solid men’s work.”

  Josiah nipped his lip. Where did he stand with Hooley, really? He and Savilla shared the cooking and cleanup without separating the tasks according to gender—he made a pretty fair batch of biscuits in a pinch, and his sister could change a rig wheel. She was a crack shot when they went deer hunting, too.

  Josiah climbed down to the barn floor and filled a bucket with water. When he’d topped off the troughs for Ben’s animals and fed them, he tended Dolly. Then he stood before Ben, figuring he’d better clarify his living arrangements. “If you figure me for a bad apple—too irresponsible—I can be on the road as soon as I throw my clothes in my duffel.”

  Ben’s face fell like a sad old hound dog’s. “And break Lena’s heart?” he asked quietly. “I’m hopin’ it won’t come to that, son. But that’s your choice, too.”

  Josiah let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve broken Lena’s heart countless times—not because I’ve done her wrong but because she gets upset at every little thing,” he protested. “Now that you folks have taken her in, maybe I should make myself scarce. We’ll get on everybody’s nerves if I hang around haggling about where I should cook. I’ve made a perfectly fine living in Bloomfield, after all.”

  Ben held Josiah’s gaze for a few moments beyond his comfort zone. “I suppose you’ll leave after Lena goes to bed, without sayin’ anything to her.”

  “I’ll be sparing everybody one of her crying jags.”

  “Jah, and it’ll save ya the trouble of ownin’ up to your actions, ain’t so?” Ben fired back. “It’ll leave the rest of us to clean up your mess. I suspect you’ve had a lot of practice at that.”

  “At least I’m gut at something,” Josiah retorted.

  He’d crossed the line with that remark, but he’d heard enough of Ben’s opinions. He did have a successful catering business in Bloomfield, and Savilla would assist him without giving him any flack. He could live a simple life again, free from Lena’s yammering about the baby, and he wouldn’t have to sign papers for Miriam or wonder if Hiram Knepp had lured him into a shady deal.

  “I believe you’re probably gut at a lot of things,” Ben said after a few more tense moments. “If you’re gone in the morning, I won’t be surprised—but I hope you’ll stick around and pro
ve yourself, Josiah. We need young fellas with spunk and fresh ideas in Willow Ridge.”

  Josiah left the barn. His breath blew around his face in wisps as he strode down the road that ran between the Hooley place and the Sweet Seasons. He passed Zook’s Market, a quilt shop, a small clinic, a cabinetry shop, and a dairy. As he followed the curve in the road, he saw a sign pointing toward an auction barn. He eventually walked past a herd of wooly sheep and a huge barn that housed the Simple Gifts shop, next door to the Mill at Willow Ridge, a gristmill with a waterwheel, situated on the river.

  So many thriving businesses. Surely a supper shift at Miriam’s café would be more successful than the catering he did by grilling at gatherings—and a lot easier than hauling his cookers around, too, especially in the winter. He passed homes with pale smoke rising from their chimneys, their windows aglow with lantern light. No one’s house looked as new as the ones in Higher Ground, yet Josiah sensed that the folks in Willow Ridge had everything they needed. They were happy here.

  Why not talk to Miriam about a partnership? Josiah wondered as he returned to where he’d started walking half an hour earlier. The lamp was burning in Rebecca’s apartment above Ben’s smithy. If he knocked now, he could ask her about the café’s business before her lights went out.

  But then the apartment went dark.

  Josiah sighed. He should probably move on. Cooking at the Sweet Seasons would mean getting involved with the Hooleys and the Brennemans, and he was used to being his own man. A lone wolf didn’t run well with a pack.

  He saw that Ben and Miriam’s house was dark, too. They’d probably been asleep for a while, and so had Lena.

  Ten minutes later Josiah had hitched Dolly to his rig and was rolling down the dark road without a backward glance. He’d be back in Bloomfield by midnight.

  Chapter Four

  “Don’t know how to tell ya this, so I’ll say it straight out,” Miriam murmured as Lena entered the kitchen. “Josiah’s clothes are gone.”

  Lena nipped her lip. She gazed out the back window, toward the barn where his rig had been parked.

  “Ben told me he and Josiah had words last night. He’s guessin’ your fella’s either gone to Higher Ground or back to Bloomfield.”

  Considering how Josiah usually reacted to criticism, this came as no surprise. As Lena assessed how she felt about his leaving, however, her eyes remained dry. She hugged her unborn baby. “Josiah’s gotten gut at gut-bye. He’s like a bee, flitting from flower to flower. Doesn’t like to be tied down.”

  “I’m sorry you’re feelin’ his stinger again,” Miriam remarked. “But you’ve got a place to stay as long as ya need one. You and the baby will be just fine, and you’ll eventually figure out what God’s got in mind for ya. He always has a plan.”

  “I’m counting on that,” Lena said with a sigh. “It seems every time I make my own plans, someone changes them for me. What can I do to help you, Miriam?”

  The lines around Miriam’s chocolate brown eyes crinkled. “We don’t have church today, so Ben and I figure to read a bit and spend a quiet morning. Rebecca, Rhoda, Andy, and his kids’ll be here for dinner, along with Rachel, Micah, and their new baby—and Ben’s brothers’ll join us, too, along with Nora and her daughter, Millie. Our whole family will be together, except for Ben’s two aunts bein’ in Cedar Creek for the weekend.”

  Lena smiled sadly, missing her family back home. “I feel honored that you’re including me—”

  “Don’t get down on yourself just because Josiah’s judgment took a turn for the worse.” Miriam came over to grasp Lena’s shoulders. “Everybody hits bottom now and again. It’s how we bounce back that determines how high—and how far—we’ll go once we’re headed in the right direction.”

  A smile eased over Lena’s face, which was a huge improvement over the way she usually fell apart when Josiah left her. “Keep reminding me of that. These past couple of days with you folks has already improved my outlook.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Miriam opened the cabinet where she kept the dishes. “Wonder if Rebecca’s joinin’ us for breakfast? She never says so, knowin’ I’d like her to be in church, but I suspect she catches up on her Web site design business on Sundays.” She chuckled as though this secret about her English daughter tickled her. “What with helpin’ Andy Leitner at his clinic and waitin’ tables during the breakfast shift, I don’t know how that girl keeps up with her computer work. She’s brought us a lot of new business by designin’ Web sites for the café and the Schrocks’ quilt shop, and now the mill and Nora’s consignment store, too.”

  Lena’s eyebrows rose as she set the table. “Your bishop’s agreeable to online advertising? Josiah and Savilla would be in big trouble if the church leaders in Bloomfield found out they had a Web site.”

  “Oh, we couldn’t be online without Rebecca bein’ English,” Miriam replied. “And because Willow Ridge is just a wee spot in the road, Bishop Tom knows our shops wouldn’t support us without tourists findin’ us. Tom put his foot down, though, when we discovered that Hiram Knepp had a fancy Web site with his full-face picture on it.”

  “Oh, my. He should’ve known better.”

  “Ya got that right,” Miriam agreed as she took a pan of baked oatmeal from the oven. “He had a big business breedin’ and trainin’ Belgians—in the barn where Nora’s Simple Gifts shop is. That photograph was the first in a string of forbidden things we found out about Hiram when he was our bishop. Sad story. And a nasty breakup of his family, as well.”

  Once again Lena felt uneasy about Higher Ground, and she hoped Josiah had headed back to Bloomfield. It would be just like him to hire on with Hiram, however, if only because these well-intentioned folks had told him not to.

  Maybe he’s not ready to be a father. Josiah has a contrary attitude about everything that’s important.

  Lena kept this startling thought to herself. If her baby’s father was going to run the other way for the rest of his life, she should indeed consider staying with the Hooleys rather than doggedly standing by Josiah. The midwife in Bloomfield had said the baby would come in less than two months, so she needed to have her plan in place.

  When they’d put the baked oatmeal and a bowl of fried apples on the table, Miriam called Ben. The three of them bowed their heads for a moment of silent thanks.

  “We’re gettin’ in some quiet time before the others arrive,” Ben said as he spooned up some baked oatmeal. “Once Andy Leitner’s kids get here with Rhoda—”

  “Taylor and Brett, from Andy’s first marriage,” Miriam clarified.

  “—and Rachel’s new baby starts fussin’, it’ll get noisier than we’re used to,” he finished with a chuckle.

  “Puh! You’ll grab little Amelia at the first sign of a whimper,” Miriam teased. She smiled brightly at Lena. “Amelia’s our first grandbaby, born just a couple of months ago. And with Andy joinin’ the Old Order and marryin’ my Rhoda in September, we’ve got his kids in the family now, too. It’s been an exciting autumn.”

  “Not many brides have their wedding interrupted by the birthin’ of a baby,” Ben recounted with a chuckle. “Rachel was Rhoda’s side-sitter, and she’d gone past her due date. What with Andy bein’ the groom and the local nurse, Bishop Tom halted the vows so Andy could take Rachel upstairs when her contractions got the best of her.”

  “The wedding was in that big white house down the lane behind the Sweet Seasons. That’s where my girls grew up, and where Rachel and Micah live now,” Miriam explained. “We ladies decided to serve the wedding dinner—over in the Brennemans’ shop—so the guests wouldn’t be listenin’ to Rachel cry out with her birthin’ pains. By the time the second shift of guests had eaten their meal, Amelia had been born, and everybody returned to the house so Rhoda and Andy could take their vows. We got a new son-in-law and a new grandbaby on the same day!”

  Lena hugged her unborn child, touched by the love on the Hooleys’ faces—and amazed at yet another unusual situation in their family.
It was rare for an English person—and a divorced one—to be accepted into the Amish faith. “I wish my baby was going to have a family like yours,” she blurted out.

  “Oh, Lena, I can’t imagine your mamm and dat will stay mad once they’ve got a grandchild,” Miriam insisted as she reached for Lena’s hand.

  Lena sighed. Maybe she should explain how things had been at home, before the rest of Miriam and Ben’s family arrived. Her feelings about her parents were so upsetting, so jumbled up. “My mamm didn’t tell me a thing about how babies happen,” she began tentatively, “so when she figured out why I was throwing up, she got really mad at me—and at Josiah. I was hardly even showing when my folks sent me to stay with my maidel aunt Clara up in Keota.”

  “That’s the way it often goes,” Miriam remarked. “So were ya figurin’ to give the baby up for adoption?”

  Lena smiled ruefully. “That’s the way my parents had it planned. But I just can’t give this baby away, Miriam! I know it’s a boy, and he’s such a part of me that—”

  “Jah, I understand about that,” Miriam murmured sympathetically.

  “—I can’t stand to think about anybody else raising him, even though my circumstances aren’t the best,” Lena finished in a rush. “Sometimes Josiah’s with me on that, and then he gets scared—like he is now.”

  “I think you’ve hit the nail on the head,” Ben said with a nod. “No matter what Josiah says, though, I suspect he’s in this for the long haul. Otherwise he wouldn’t have brought you to Missouri.”

  Lena’s breath escaped in a rush. “Truth be told, he came to Aunt Clara’s to visit me one last time before he took the job in Higher Ground, and when she caught us chatting in her basement, she called my parents—said she was setting me out. Mamm wanted me to stay with them rather than leaving with Josiah, but Dat told me not to come home if I went with him. I—I got really upset and begged Josiah not to leave me alone. So here we are.”