The Christmas Cradle

by Charlotte Hubbard

  Homer stroked his chin. “I’ve got some prime pastureland, and the tillable acres usually yield pretty well, so I was thinking the place was worth more than that,” he mused aloud. “But you’d be saving me a real estate agent’s fee—and it would be a huge load off my mind not to have to deal with the furnishings. Can I think on it for a few days?”

  “I’ll do the same,” Josiah replied. He kicked himself for not asking more about the property’s size, and for talking about money before he’d even set foot in the barn. But at least he’d set his price limit—and he’d made a bid before anyone else could snap this place up. Very few other houses within easy driving distance of the Sweet Seasons were likely to become available any time soon. And he would have so much more to offer Lena when they married if they already had a home.

  As Lena and Savilla’s voices echoed in the stairway, Josiah smiled. He could hear their excitement, and he sensed they’d be disappointed—as he would be—if this deal didn’t go through.

  “Kitchen’s that way,” Homer said, pointing toward the back of the main floor. “The appliances aren’t the newest, but everything works just fine.”

  Josiah followed his sister and Lena because he would be spending a lot of time in the hub of the house, making the sauces and rubs for his meat. He noticed how all the furniture in the front room was plain but sturdy—no water rings on the tabletops or slipcovers on the upholstered chairs and sofa. The furnace hummed and the windows seemed tight. The gas stove and fridge were quite a bit older than Miriam’s, and so were the sink fixtures and cabinets, yet everything was spotless.

  “What a lovely home,” Savilla remarked as she ran a hand over the countertops. “When Miriam mentioned that you were a bachelor, I—well, I expected more clutter.”

  Homer laughed out loud, and then a secret twitched at his lips. “I have a gal who cleans for me every week,” he confessed. “She lectures me if she finds the place in a mess, so I guess she’s got me trained.”

  As the three of them laughed together, Josiah watched the way Savilla and Lena gazed at the cabinet space and the countertops, in addition to the well-maintained vinyl flooring. After living in their mammi’s poor old place, this house would be a huge improvement for his sister—and it was comparable to what Lena had grown up with. “If you girls have seen enough, we should let Homer get on with his day,” Josiah said. He shook hands with Homer again. “Denki so much for letting us look around. You’ve got a really homey place here.”

  Homer gestured for the three of them to precede him to the front door. As Savilla and Lena headed outside to the buggy, he clasped Josiah’s shoulder. “What say you and I meet at the bank in New Haven this week and talk with the loan officer?” he murmured. “I’ll have an appraisal done to give us a better idea of the land’s value so we’ll both feel we’re getting a fair shake. I’m impressed that a fellow your age can offer me cash, and I like the idea of a young family living here—and I like you, Josiah. Glad you stopped by. You’ve set a whole passel of concerns to rest for me.”

  Josiah’s eyes widened. “Oh, you have no idea how happy we are that I heard about this place at church today,” he replied. “Let me know when to meet you at the bank.”

  As he hurried toward the buggy, Josiah felt like turning cartwheels in the snow. He reminded himself that he still had to jump through a few hoops. He and Homer had only discussed a good-faith agreement, which was no guarantee that the transaction would take place.

  But when he climbed into the rig and saw the wide-eyed, questioning expressions on Lena and Savilla’s faces, Josiah flashed them a grin. “Homer and I are meeting at the bank this week and I—I think he wants us to have this place as much as we all want to live here!”

  “Oh! I was hoping this would work out!” his sister said with a squeal. She hugged Lena excitedly. “See? It wasn’t too soon to decide who would sleep in which room!”

  “And the kitchen’s roomy, too,” Lena said as she hugged Josiah in turn. “We can invite the Hooleys over for dinner to repay all the meals they’ve been feeding us, and it’ll be just like having family over.”

  Josiah caught a flash of sadness in Lena’s blue eyes, probably as she thought about spending Christmas away from her family. She didn’t dwell on the absence of letters or a call asking her to return home, but he suspected the separation from her parents weighed on Lena’s mind—all because he’d succumbed to his desire for her before it was proper.

  “Fine idea, having the Hooleys over,” he agreed. As he drove them back to Willow Ridge, Josiah vowed that Lena and Isaiah would want for nothing. Providing well for them was the least he could do—and it was the way he wanted to spend the rest of his life because he loved them. He could finally admit that to himself.

  “I think Homer’s got a thing going with his housekeeper,” Savilla said after they’d ridden for a few minutes. She’d been keeping a perfectly straight face until Lena giggled.

  “Jah—unless he wears that pink bathrobe that’s hanging on the bathroom door.”

  It took Josiah a while to stop laughing at that remark. “He’s probably as concerned about what’ll happen with her as he is about selling his farm—but I doubt he’ll take a girlfriend along to live with his sister-in-law and seven nieces.”

  “I can’t see that happening,” Lena agreed.

  “Do you suppose Miriam and Ben know who she is?” Savilla asked. “They would be familiar with all the maidels—”

  “Hey—that’s none of our business,” Josiah insisted, although he was still chuckling. “If Homer gets wind of such speculation, he’ll know who started the grapevine buzzing. Let’s not push our luck.”

  “You’re right. My lips are sealed,” Savilla said, pulling an imaginary zipper across her lips.

  “Mine, too,” Lena said as one last smile tickled her lips. “It’s still fun to think about, though. And even more fun to think that maybe we’ll be living there soon, jah?”

  “I like the sound of that,” Josiah agreed. His heart thrummed as the Willow Ridge Clinic and the Sweet Seasons came into view. “I like it a lot.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Lena focused on her cookie dough, cutting out as many houses and stars as she could before rerolling it. It was Friday afternoon, and Josiah had ridden to the New Haven bank with Homer Yoder a couple of hours earlier—and the air was so thick with snow she couldn’t see across the road. Although she was glad the two men were traveling in Homer’s black pickup truck instead of the rig, she tried not to imagine the vehicle sliding off the pavement into a snowy ditch. Lena also hoped the Mennonite bachelor wouldn’t change his mind about selling his farm to Josiah. All week she’d pictured herself in that house . . . singing to Isaiah in his room, cooking with Savilla in that big kitchen, sitting on the couch with Josiah of an evening . . .

  What if Homer’s housekeeper doesn’t want him to leave? Maybe she’s talked him out of living with his sister-in-law and her large family. What if—

  “Can ya unlock the door for Rebecca?” Miriam asked with a lift in her voice “She’ll be covered with snow if she waits for me to waddle over there.”

  Lena dropped her cookie cutter and hurried to the door. Miriam had been unusually quiet today, which probably meant she was very uncomfortable. “Come on in before you blow away!” she said as she swung open the door. “Oh, my! We’ve gotten three or four more inches of snow since lunch.”

  “Jah, Naomi went home early,” Rebecca said as she stomped her snowy feet on the throw rug. “Savilla’s not sure whether to keep cooking or to call off the dinner shift for the evening—especially because Josiah’s not back from New Haven.”

  “I’m thinkin’ he and Homer and Derek Shotwell, the loan officer, are dottin’ the I’s and crossin’ the T’s for sellin’ that farm,” Miriam said. “That sort of business can take a while.”

  “It can—and Josiah brought all the meat inside before he left, so Savilla can put it in the fridge for tomorrow if she wants.” Rebecca slipped out of
her coat, smiling. “I can see the newest cottage industry in Willow Ridge is going full force in spite of the snow. Look at these shimmery angels! And the snowman in his striped scarf and hat.”

  “Miriam and I have baked and decorated nearly ten dozen today, for a lady who goes to Nora’s church,” Lena said as she returned to her dough. “She must be having quite a Christmas party.”

  “And you must be making quite a name for yourself, Lena.” Rebecca picked up a sleigh cookie her mother had just decorated. “You should name your business. I could make you some labels with a phone number on it so people who pick up cookies at the mill store or the Sweet Seasons can call you with orders.”

  “Oh, that’s a gut idea!” Miriam said as she shifted in her chair. “Those labels ya designed for Nazareth’s goat cheese and Tom’s butter are so cute, I suspect folks buy their stuff just for the pictures of the goat and the cow.”

  Lena arranged the final cookies on her baking sheet and slipped it into the oven. “Are they sticky on the back? A label might keep the plastic wrap in place—and cover the overdone spots on the backs,” she added with a grin.

  “Yep, they are. Think up a clever name and I’ll come up with a cute design for you.” Rebecca sat down and slung her arm around Miriam’s shoulders. “And how are you today, Mamma?”

  “Ready for this baby to be out,” Miriam replied. “If I didn’t have these cookies to frost and Lena to chat with, I’d be goin’ crazy.”

  “If your back gets cranky in that chair, take a rest in your recliner, Miriam,” Lena suggested. “It’s so nice of you to help me with these cookies—and with everything else. I hate to think about what might’ve happened to Isaiah and me if we’d stayed with Aunt Clara, or if Josiah had left Iowa without me.”

  Lena lifted her son into her arms, amazed at the depth of her love for him. How could anything be more satisfying than the warm weight of his little body and the shine in Isaiah’s eyes as he gazed at her? She found herself at the kitchen window again, sending up a prayer for Josiah’s safe return. Peering through the thick white snowflakes was a lot like trying to see into the future—the details weren’t clear, but Lena felt certain that looking ahead was far better than looking back.

  “What a day!” Josiah said as he gazed through the fogged-over window of Homer’s truck. “Denki for driving me into New Haven. I’m not sure I’d have made it back in a rig.”

  “You’d have waited for the snow plow to go by, no doubt,” Homer replied as he steered carefully along the county highway. “But jah, what a day! I figured my farm might sit empty for quite a while in the winter, and now it’s a done deal. I owe Reuben Riehl a favor.”

  “Me too,” Josiah replied. “And I appreciate Derek Shotwell’s explaining the contract details in a way I could understand. Nice guy.”

  “I’ve done a lot of business with him over the years. He has a gut feel for how Plain folks want to keep things simple, and he respects our way of living.” Homer glanced over at Josiah. “I’ll drop you at the Sweet Seasons, but would it be all right if we stop at Nora’s gift store first? I have some Christmas shopping to do, and I’ve heard all manner of gut things about her shop.”

  Josiah’s eyes widened. “I guess Christmas is next week—and I haven’t given a thought to what to get for Lena or my sister,” he said. “I could cook dinner for everybody, I suppose, but after an hour it’s gone and we’ve got nothing to show for it except dirty dishes. Jah, let’s stop at Nora’s—if she hasn’t closed early because of all this snow.”

  Josiah saw the large wooden mill building ahead, and Homer turned at the next intersection. “Hang on,” he said with a boyish grin. “I’ll have to gun it to get us up the hill.”

  With a whoop, Yoder hit the gas pedal. The back end of the truck fishtailed, but the truck roared up the snowy lane and made both of them laugh out loud. Such shenanigans had been part and parcel of riding in his friends’ cars during their Rumspringa, but Josiah hadn’t expected such a burst of exuberance from the middle-aged Mennonite in the driver’s seat.

  Homer chuckled. “Better get that wild driving out of my system, I suppose,” he said as he stuck his keys in his coat pocket. “Along with moving to my brother’s farm, I’m going to be tying the knot soon—with that gal I told you about, who’s been cleaning for me. She kicked up a big fuss when I told her I had to move. Seems women are training us men even while we believe we’re in control, ain’t so?”

  Josiah laughed as they got out of the truck. “I know a little bit about that, jah,”

  He couldn’t wait to tell Lena and Savilla that their speculations had been correct—but once he stepped through the door of the Simple Gifts store, he forgot about the weather and his fiancée and his sister. Nora had transformed an enormous horse barn into a shop filled with glossy Amish-made furniture, quilts, toys, leather saddles and tack, and other handmade items that made him stop in his tracks to gawk.

  “And how are you fellows on this blustery afternoon?” Nora asked as she stepped away from a little table where her computer was. “I didn’t figure anybody would stop in, so I’m catching up on some bookwork. Can I help you find anything, Josiah?”

  Josiah smiled at the attractive redhead, who stood before them in a red and green plaid cape dress with a white shawl around her shoulders. “Nora, this is Homer Yoder. He wants to do some shopping—and I just bought his farm down the road!”

  Nora’s green eyes lit up in her freckled face. “Congratulations to both of you! Do you have anything in mind, Homer? We have a lot of wonderful items, all crafted by Plain folks who live around central Missouri.”

  “This is quite a place.” Homer gazed up to where quilts and colorful three-dimensional banners were hanging along the loft railing. “I’ve been a bachelor for so long, I don’t have any idea how to shop for, well—a special gift for a special lady.”

  “Ah,” Nora replied with a knowing nod. “Christmas is the perfect time for giving gifts of the heart. A lot of gals admire the embroidered kitchen towel sets displayed in the loft,” she said, gesturing up the stairway. “These pottery pieces are very popular, as well—and the lady who makes them takes orders for special pieces or full sets of dishes. Actually, all of my crafters take orders, but at this point it’ll be next year before they can deliver them.”

  Josiah ambled between the displays, noting the fabulous furniture built by the Brenneman brothers, the unique Nativity scenes Bishop Tom had crafted, the beautiful, sturdy pottery Nora was pointing out—and then his breath caught. Beside a sleigh-style bed where a quilt and some Amish dolls were displayed, he spotted a cradle fashioned from walnut. The bed was suspended between two pedestals and had spindled sides that were high enough to keep Isaiah from climbing out of it. Its overall height would allow him and Lena to easily tend to their son, and the mattress was large enough that Isaiah wouldn’t outgrow it any time soon.

  Josiah didn’t even check the price tag. “This is perfect!” he exclaimed. “Miriam’s been so generous, sharing the cradle Ben made, but now Isaiah can have his own bed—just in time for our move, and for the arrival of Miriam’s baby.”

  “Micah Brenneman brought that in just yesterday,” Nora said. “You can’t go wrong with furniture those brothers have made—”

  “And I’ll take this sleigh bed and the matching dresser and wardrobe,” Homer blurted out. He looked as excited as a little kid as he ran his hand over the lustrous wood. “I want these embroidered sheets and the quilt that’s on it, too—and this braided rug that’s beside it. When we move into my brother’s place, Fannie and I will have our own cozy little nook. She won’t have to settle for a saggy old mattress or threadbare sheets, or for the furniture that’s been in that bedroom forever. She said yes yesterday, you see.”

  “Well, congratulations yet again, Homer! Fannie will be a very grateful woman,” Nora added. “What a lovely, thoughtful gift for your new bride.”

  “May I leave everything here until we’re ready to move in a couple of we
eks?” Homer asked. “No sense in hauling it out to my place and then having to load it up again—and risk scratching this beautiful wood.”

  “If you ask the Brennemans,” Nora said as she handed him a business card from the display, “I’m sure they’ll be happy to haul it for you. They deliver furniture all the time.”

  “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Homer let out a gratified sigh and clapped Josiah on the back. “Now I know why the Bible tells us it’s better to give than to receive. I feel so excited—and grateful to God that I’ll soon have a wife.”

  “I’m happy for both of you,” Josiah said. He smiled at Nora. “Do you have something to wrap around this cradle so it won’t get snowed on in the back of Homer’s truck? I’d like to give it to Lena this evening. If anybody deserves an early Christmas gift, she does.”

  Nora stopped removing the tags from the furniture to gaze at both of them. “You fellows are an inspiration,” she said. “Not just because you’ve purchased so much on a slow afternoon but because you’re being generous and kind to your women. They’re lucky to have you.”

  Josiah’s eyes widened. Not long ago, Savilla and Miriam had scolded him for being oblivious to Lena’s needs—or to anyone’s needs except his own—and now Nora Hooley was commending him for his generosity and kindness.

  Maybe there’s hope for you yet, Witmer. Better see if your sister’s still at the café—and help her close up early—and then deliver this gift to Lena while you’re on a roll.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  At the sound of a roaring engine, Miriam looked out the kitchen window to see a black pickup truck top their lane and stop near the house. One look at Josiah’s face told her that his afternoon at the bank had gone well. The happiness he exuded as he stepped out into the snow eased some of her aches and pains.