The Christmas Cradle

by Charlotte Hubbard

  But Tom and the others have all enjoyed eatin’ here these past several months—and where would they go if we closed up? Surely they know I run the Sweet Seasons more because I love feedin’ people than for the money. I—I’ve worked so hard to build up this business. The café has seen me through some tough times.

  Was she overstepping her boundaries, thinking she could continue to work? Had she ignored her responsibilities as a wife and mother? Was Ben expressing his disappointment in her because she loved running her café even as she yearned to hold his child and raise it with him?

  Are You disappointed in me, God? Have I been thinkin’ like a crazy woman, forgettin’ how You’d have me live this life You’ve blessed me with?

  The clatter of dishes and the chatter from the dining room brought Miriam out of her uncomfortable musings. She released the breath she’d been holding. “I’ll pray on it,” she whispered.

  But she had a feeling she’d gone far too long assuming that God—and Ben—were happy with the choices she’d been making. Miriam focused on getting the drizzle just right over the tops of two more loaves of chocolate apple bread.

  “Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Miriam.”

  “I know. Ya don’t have a mean—or untruthful—bone in your body, Ben.” She blinked back tears, determined not to let this thought-provoking conversation get the best of her. “Here—ya might as well have the first taste before I put this out for lunch.”

  When Miriam sliced off the end of a dark chocolate loaf and handed it to her husband, his boyish smile returned. “Guess I wouldn’t get so many samples if ya weren’t here bakin’ every day,” he admitted.

  “Ya said a mouthful there.” It lifted her spirits when her husband bit into the warm bread and closed his eyes with pleasure. “I’ll think about what ya said, Ben.”

  “I know ya will, honey-bug,” he murmured. “Ya understand when to follow your own notions and when to change them. That’s just one more thing I love about ya.”

  Miriam couldn’t resist kissing off a drop of frosting that had lodged in Ben’s sandy-brown beard. Even when her husband acted older and sterner than she was, she counted her blessings. Before Ben had come into her life a year ago, she’d been lonelier than she cared to recall. He kissed her full on the lips before refilling his mug at the coffeemaker. Nodding at Naomi and Hannah, he returned to his smithy.

  Miriam inhaled deeply to settle her thoughts. She felt caught up in a tug-of-war, longing to continue with her business yet eager to hold a newborn for the first time in twenty-two years. Before her Jesse had died—before she’d opened the Sweet Seasons to make ends meet—she wouldn’t even have considered working outside her home.

  Is this what a taste of independence has done to me, Lord? Have I wandered from the path You’d have me follow? I want to believe You brought me to this place in my life for a gut reason . . .

  “Miriam! You’re just the woman I want to see!” a cheerful, familiar voice called out.

  When Miriam looked up, she couldn’t help smiling. Nora was wearing a cape dress made of a paisley pattern in shades of pink, green, purple, and orange that brightened the entire kitchen. “How’s our bride-to-be?” she asked.

  “Never better.” Nora’s freckled face lit up. “I’m having a hen party at my place Saturday night for the gals who’re helping at the wedding—so you’re all invited!” she gushed, opening her arms to include everyone in the kitchen. “Savilla, I want you and Lena to come, too. What a party we’re going to have after the wedding, thanks to you and Josiah—so we’ll celebrate before the wedding, as well!”

  Miriam felt her clouds of gloom dissipating. “What a fine idea, Nora. I could use some fun and frolic.”

  “Oh, we’ll frolic all right,” Nora replied lightly.

  Was that a wink the redhead gave Naomi and Hannah? And did their smiles seem just a little bit secretive?

  Miriam didn’t ask. It was blessing enough to return to her usual good mood after her talk with Ben had caught her off guard. There’s a time to mourn and a time to dance, she reminded herself as she finished frosting her bread.

  The baby within her shifted as Nora chatted about the menu she and the Witmers had chosen for her wedding dinner. To Miriam, it was a sign that life went on despite a few rocks in the road. She decided to rejoice and be glad for that.

  When the Sweet Season’s back door slammed and he heard Lena bawling, Josiah focused on pounding nails. The enclosure he was building would provide a windbreak for his cookers: It attached to the café and quilt shop building on one end and to Ben’s smithy on the other, and the single wooden wall would be easy to dismantle if he went on to Higher Ground.

  He was keeping his options open, by not hinting to Hiram Knepp about a change of plans until after Luke and Nora’s wedding dinner. No matter what Savilla thought, he hadn’t really set a date for starting work at the supper club. He’d discussed several ideas during that phone call with Knepp, but as far as Josiah was concerned, nothing had been nailed down.

  When Lena’s wailing got louder, he turned to look at her. Despite her advanced pregnancy, she appeared small and fragile. Framed by her black bonnet, her face looked very pale as she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her coat.

  “Trouble in the kitchen?” he ventured cautiously. “I thought you and the ladies were getting along.”

  Lena blew her nose loudly. “The kitchen’s fine now that everyone’s cleaned up the big mess I made,” she whimpered. “The problem is me. I feel so fat and clumsy, so lost and alone that I—I don’t belong anywhere anymore. I just want to go home!”

  Josiah’s eyebrows rose. Some of Lena’s problems were in her head—or so it seemed to him—and most of them went beyond his ability to fix them. “Sorry, girl, but I can’t take you,” he murmured. “I’m not even sure where home is right now. I’m riding this wave of change, seeing where I land when it drops me off.”

  “I’m not asking you to take me back to Bloomfield,” Lena countered testily. “My folks wouldn’t allow me into their house anyway. But—but—”

  Josiah sighed as she burst into tears again. He’d grown tired of the drama Lena created, yet he slung a sympathetic arm around her. “My room’s above yours, and I heard you shifting a lot in bed last night,” he remarked. “Are you not getting enough sleep?”

  “Could you sleep with somebody rolling and kicking inside you?” she retorted. “No matter how I position myself, my back hurts. My legs ache from standing on hard floors and—”

  “Sounds like it’s time for a nap.”

  “Nap?” Lena shot back. She sighed loudly. “That’s what Miriam said, too, but I feel like I’d be slacking—” When the door clicked, she buried her head against Josiah’s chest. “Phooey. Now Ben’s out here.”

  Josiah glanced over his shoulder, waving at Hooley. “We’re taking a little time out,” he explained. “Got my wall built, though. Thanks for the lumber.”

  “Looks real gut, too,” the farrier replied as he studied the wooden enclosure. He smiled knowingly. “I’ll leave you two to settle things.”

  When Ben had gone inside his smithy, Josiah eased away from Lena. “What if I walk you across the road and we have some cocoa before I unload my cookers?” he murmured. “Maybe we could snuggle while nobody else is there.”

  When Lena’s blue eyes lit up, Josiah’s insides tightened. He craved physical contact, yet he was wary of making her think this was a forever kind of situation. He just didn’t know if he could navigate all the changes that were coming at him—wasn’t sure he could be the dat she wanted for her baby, even though he was supposed to act responsible. If his own father had lived, maybe he’d be stronger, more confident when it came to loving—but such wishes wouldn’t get Lena through her crying spell.

  As Josiah steered Lena across the road, he noticed that her waddle was more pronounced, and that she held the small of her back with both hands. Her protruding belly led the way across the blacktop, and by the time they had topped th
e Hooleys’ lane, she was short of breath.

  Lena perked up, however, as she made two mugs of cocoa. While they sat together on the couch in the front room, Josiah wondered if he’d ever be able to afford a home like this one, and if he would ever make anything of himself. As they sipped the warm cocoa, he listened to Lena prattling about her morning in Miriam’s kitchen. He enjoyed the feel of her warm body as he held her and she rested her head against his chest.

  Within minutes, Lena was asleep.

  Josiah set her empty mug on the end table. He let the peace of the moment wash over him, awed by the way the baby in Lena’s belly shifted against him. When she was sound asleep, he eased away from her and placed a pillow beneath her head. Struck by her fragile beauty, Josiah kissed her cheek. He gently tucked an afghan around her and left the house, careful not to let the wind snatch the door from his hand.

  Now what? It’ll take a lot more than cocoa and a nap to solve Lena’s problems—and yours.

  To keep from stewing over how he could support himself, his sister, Lena, and a helpless newborn, he unloaded his grilling equipment. Hefting the weight of his icy-cold barrel cookers and grills made Josiah work quickly, without distracting thoughts. Soon the tools of his trade—most of them rusty and blackened with burned grease—were lined up along the new wall like old friends.

  Josiah allowed himself to believe the wedding feast would be a huge success, after which he and Savilla would become welcome new residents in Willow Ridge. Whistling under his breath, he strode toward the blue-roofed Zook’s Market down the road to finalize his menu order. Because Luke Hooley had advanced the cash to cover the wedding feast, Preacher Henry had been pleased to provide the beef, pork, and chickens Josiah would grill—food that would give wedding guests something to talk about for months to come.

  That was his plan, anyway. Serving up success one tasty plateful at a time.

  Chapter Seven

  Lena huffed up Nora’s long driveway Saturday evening, wondering if she would ever again be able to draw full, deep breaths. Miriam walked alongside her without any apparent discomfort despite her age. In fact, her companion’s face lit up with girlish glee as they approached the largest, fanciest house in town.

  “What a treat to be comin’ here,” Miriam exclaimed as they stepped onto the big front porch. “I’ve known Nora since she was a wee girl, ya see—and when her dat banished her for gettin’ in the family way, I felt awful bad for her. Couldn’t believe bright, responsible Nora would get herself into such a predicament, much less dump her baby off at her brother’s place,” she added in a lower voice. “But God was leadin’ her all along—even though she didn’t realize it when the bishop in Morning Star took advantage of her fear and innocence.”

  Lena’s eyes widened. She’d heard Nora’s situation had been similar to her own, yet the story had a different spin when a church leader came into the picture. If Nora had reunited with her family and turned her life around, maybe there was hope for her and Josiah’s baby.

  “Come on in—it’s open!” a female voice called out.

  When they stepped inside, a loud chorus of “Surprise! Surprise!” made Miriam stop in her tracks. Her mouth dropped open. A roomful of smiling faces greeted them, and from the crowd Lena picked out Rebecca, Rhoda, Naomi, Hannah, Rachel—and even Savilla!

  “What’s goin’ on here?” Miriam asked in a tight voice. A big banner that said WELCOME, BABIES! was hanging across the kitchen entryway, and Lena noticed a long table in the front room where women sat cutting lengths of fabric.

  Nora hurried over to them, wearing a mischievous grin. “Okay, I fibbed a little when I called this a party for my wedding helpers,” she said as she grabbed their hands. “It is a party, but it’s a shower for you two! We’ve been sewing diapers and gowns and onesies, figuring you’ve neither one had much of a chance to do that.”

  Lena’s hand fluttered to her mouth as she spotted the stack of diapers already folded at the end of the table. Aunt Clara hadn’t had a lot of money to spare—not that she’d been inclined to spend any on Lena’s baby—so Lena had worried about having basic necessities before the baby arrived. “Oh, I never expected anybody to go to such trouble—and for me,” she gasped.

  “This is the way we do it in Willow Ridge,” Miriam said, “so we’d better just let everybody spoil us, Lena. There’s no stoppin’ these gals when they decide to have a frolic for somebody.”

  “You’ve done more than your share of helpin’ other folks, Miriam,” Naomi piped up from one of the sewing machines.

  “For sure and for certain,” a young dark-haired woman joined in. She looked up from the diaper she was cutting. “The surprise birthday party you threw when I turned eighteen was—well, you almost had to pick me up off the floor. And I’m forever grateful.”

  “Lena, this is Annie Mae Wagler,” Miriam said. “She and Adam married this past summer. They live down the hill, and along with Annie Mae’s sister, Nellie—”

  The younger girl on the other side of Annie Mae waved at Lena.

  “—they’re takin’ care of their four younger siblings,” Miriam continued. She gazed purposefully at Lena, lowering her voice. “Annie Mae and her sibs are Hiram Knepp’s kids. It’s a long story, about how she and Nellie refused to go to Higher Ground with their dat.”

  The back of Lena’s neck prickled. Here was another example of how out-of-kilter Hiram’s relationships seemed to be.

  “But all’s well that ends well,” Nora insisted cheerfully. “Come to the kitchen! We’ve got warm cider and all sorts of goodies.”

  Lena didn’t realize how hungry she was until she saw the refreshments that covered the kitchen table. She put chunks of bread on a plate and covered them with warm cheese sauce, then spooned up some fruity salad sweetened with cherry pie filling and whipped topping.

  “What’s on the menu for your wedding dinner, Nora?” somebody called out. “I’ve heard it’s not the typical chicken roast and creamed celery.”

  “Do tell, Savilla,” someone else insisted. “I see there’s a whole lineup of grills and barrel cookers behind Miriam’s café.”

  Lena sat on the couch beside Hannah, eager to hear about the wedding meal. Josiah and his sister hadn’t said much about what Luke and Nora had decided upon.

  Nora laughed. “We Mennonites like to do things a little differently,” she teased. “The ceremony’s at the church in Morning Star next Thursday morning—and I hope you’ll all come,” she added. “The dinner’s at the Brennemans’ furniture shop. With most of Luke’s and my families living right here in Willow Ridge, we’re not anticipating hundreds of out-of-town guests.”

  “Josiah was tickled that Luke wanted him to roast a whole hog,” Savilla continued with a grin. “He’ll also be grilling chicken quarters and slow-cooking beef briskets.”

  “Wow, that’ll be quite a feed!” Nora’s daughter Millie exclaimed. “And what’re you cooking for side dishes, Savilla? It’s so cool that you and your brother run this catering business together.”

  Lena’s heart fluttered. All the women around the big front room were nodding, eager to hear the dinner details as they kept sewing.

  “Nora chose spaghetti pie—which is a twist on mac and cheese—along with zucchini and carrot casserole, potato loaf, pickled eggs and relishes, baked beans, slaw, and some fruit salads,” Savilla replied. “Several of you are making pies for us, and Miriam is the queen of wedding cakes in this area,” she added with a big grin. “I’m thankful for that, because my cake frosting tends to look like a five-year-old smeared it on.”

  Friendly laughter filled the room. As Lena finished her refreshments, she realized how happy she felt despite the fact that she only knew a handful of these women. Maybe the good food had settled her nerves—or perhaps she was coming to believe that Willow Ridge was a town where neighbor helped neighbor, and where the women came together to support one another. She glanced at Hannah, who was seated beside her. “I suppose you’ve known all along that
Nora’s party was to be a frolic,” she murmured.

  Hannah laughed. “It wasn’t easy keeping such a secret from Miriam while we were working this week,” she replied, “and then Nora decided to include you, too.”

  Lena sighed, looking out over the roomful of women, several of whom were near her age. “I feel odd that gals I don’t know are sewing baby things for me,” she murmured.

  “Let’s fix that right now.” Hannah grabbed Lena’s hand and stood up. “We’ll start at the far end of the room, and by the time you leave, you’ll have a passel of new friends.”

  Lena’s heart pounded. She stood up as gracefully as her baby bulk allowed and followed Hannah to the crowded worktable. “I’ve met Millie,” she said as Nora’s redheaded daughter smiled at her, “and this little pixie is Rhoda’s Taylor.”

  “Lena, hi!” the girl exclaimed. “Mary’s showing me how to hand stitch, and it’s fun!”

  “That would be Mary Schrock,” Hannah clarified as the gray-haired woman next to Taylor smiled at them. “She and Eva and Priscilla run the quilting shop next to Miriam’s café, and they provided the fabric for the diapers and gowns.”

  “Oh, what a gift you’ve given me,” Lena blurted out as she reached for the three women’s hands. “I have no idea how I’ll repay all these favors.”

  “Love your baby,” Mary replied as the two women beside her nodded their agreement. “It’s the gift that keeps on giving, the love we get from our mamms.”

  Lena blinked, determined not to cry—or to wonder if her own mother’s love had lessened because of her unwed pregnancy. When Hannah led her further along the table, Lena noticed that the pile of diapers had gotten noticeably higher, and then she realized that the dark-haired young woman Miriam had identified as Hiram’s daughter was pregnant, as well.