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An Amish Christmas Wedding

Page 14

by Amy Clipston


  “I told him as much. I can only hope we”—his gaze collided with hers—“I can make progress with Tommy that will make Noah change his mind.”

  “You were right the first time. We can help Tommy.” She must be light-headed from all the excitement. His dark-jasper eyes staring into hers made it hard for her to think. He wanted her help. He wanted to do this together. “Together we’ll help Tommy . . . and each other.”

  Henry leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared into the fire. The flames leapt. The wood crackled and popped. Still its heat was nothing compared to what burned through Leesa as she awaited his next words.

  His gaze shifted to her face. “I hear there’s been some talk.”

  “Some talk? About what?”

  “About us.” He smiled, something he didn’t do nearly often enough. It transformed his plain face. Even white teeth, full lips, and dimpled cheeks gave him his youth back. “According to your schweschder, everyone thinks it’s—we’re—a gut idea.”

  “They do, do they?” She floundered, hunting for words suddenly lost in a dense thicket of unfamiliar emotions. Trepidation, uncertainty, anticipation, hope. “What do you think?”

  “I think I feel like I’m waking up from a long, deep sleep to find that life has been passing me by.” His voice dropped to a low, deep whisper for her ears only. The boys, busy setting up their game, took no heed of his words. “I don’t want that to happen anymore.”

  “The last year’s been a hard one for me.” Leesa waited for the familiar sting of disappointment and despair. It didn’t come. Only a sense of optimism she hadn’t felt in a long time. With it came the certainty that there was no need to rush. Small steps were fine. Even better than a mad, headlong rush. “I’m sure you know all about what happened to me. It felt mean and ugly. I feel like I did something wrong. That it was my fault.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Nee, it wasn’t. But what I want to say is I might be a little skittish.”

  “You and me both.” His hand crept across the sofa’s dark-navy material, stopping midway between them. “Maybe we could start with a buggy ride.”

  Leesa eyed Tommy. He had wrapped the blanket around his neck like a shawl. He was busy counting his livestock and money.

  “I might have to come to you.”

  “That would be nice.” Henry glanced at Tommy. “We could sit on the porch after he goes to bed.”

  Leesa slid her hand toward his. Their fingertips touched.

  The cold seeped away. All of it, not just that brought on by the day’s rain and wind.

  11

  Evenings sitting on Henry’s porch soon turned into Leesa coming by after school each day to deliver Tommy in her buggy as winter pushed autumn aside and the first snow blanketed the mountains. Then Leesa started staying to fix supper. She discovered Henry’s cooking left much to be desired. His cabin also needed a woman’s touch when it came to cleaning—not something she dared say aloud. He did the best he could, no doubt.

  If Tommy saw anything odd in this development, he said nothing. His behavior at school had improved. He didn’t always participate, but he no longer derailed the proceedings.

  Nor did her own family say much. Mother, with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes, accepted Leesa’s explanation that she was working with Henry to help Tommy adjust to living in Kootenai. Father looked less happy—likely because he didn’t approve of her visiting Henry’s home alone—but Mother’s pointed stare stopped his comment in its tracks. After all, Tommy was always there.

  Despite her determination to go slow, Leesa could admit, if only to herself, that she wouldn’t mind a few minutes alone with Henry. He measured his words with great care, but sometimes she saw him staring at her with a strange look of wonder. As if she were a deer that had suddenly appeared in his yard and decided to take up residence. He didn’t quite know what to make of her, it seemed. He’d made no move to touch her.

  Did he want to? The question confounded her at night when she found it hard to sleep, which was most nights despite her long days at school.

  So far Noah had agreed to hold off on moving Tommy to the Planks, with the caveat that no further incidents like running away and hitchhiking occurred. The thought had barely crossed Leesa’s mind on this cold late-November afternoon when she and Tommy drove into Henry’s yard. A buggy with a dapple-gray mare was parked next to the cabin. Noah’s mare. The bishop stood on the porch with Henry. White puffs hung in the air as they spoke. Why not talk inside where it was warm?

  “What is Noah doing here?” Tommy, who’d been half asleep for the last mile, sat up straight. “What do you think he wants?”

  “I think we’re about to find out.” No way to back off now. Had Noah heard about their rather unconventional courtship? Most couples didn’t have to worry about a young child being home alone while they were courting. It was an unusual situation all around. “I’m sure he’s just visiting.”

  “Ha.” Tommy punctuated his comeback with a snort. He might behave himself for the most part, but he still spoke his mind more than most Plain children. “Bishops never just visit.”

  And he was right. Leesa strode up the steps and joined the men with a quick hello.

  “I was hoping you might stop by.” Noah waved at Tommy who had stopped to romp with Dodger in the yard. “I’ve heard you’ve made it a habit lately.”

  Leesa smiled at him. Nothing to say to that. It was true.

  “Let’s go inside. I have a pot of kaffi on.” Henry held open the screen door. “Leesa brought us some snickerdoodle eppies on Monday that are mighty gut.”

  They traipsed inside where Leesa took over hostess duties. Let Noah think what he would. They weren’t doing anything wrong.

  The kitchen was a mess, but thankfully the bishop didn’t traverse that far. Henry had been cooking his one good dish—spaghetti. The sauce simmering on the stove filled the air with a lovely scent of oregano and onion. She had to wash two cups in order to have enough clean ones to serve the coffee. A saucer did the trick for enough cookies for the three of them.

  Finally, they settled around the table. Noah took a bite of cookie and chewed. He smiled. “My fraa is cutting back on sweets. She says they’re not gut for us. I disagree.” He patted his face with a napkin. “It seems Tommy has been doing better.”

  Leesa almost missed the change of topic. Henry spoke before she could. “He is doing better. At home and at church.” His head bobbed in her direction. “And at schul.”

  “We’ll let Leesa speak to his behavior at schul.” Noah nibbled on the cookie. Crumbs decorated his long, dark beard. “I’ve heard, though, from one of my own kinner that he’s on the fence when it comes to Gott Himself.”

  Coffee slopped over the edge of Henry’s mug. He laid his spoon aside and sopped it up with a napkin. “He’s been talking about that?”

  “It seems so.” Skinny black eyebrows lifted, Noah looked down his long nose at Henry. “I’m surprised you didn’t mention his lack of faith during any of our previous conversations.”

  “He’s only ten.” Leesa intervened. “Many kinner don’t have their faith secured so early.”

  Noah’s frown was probably more concerned with her interruption than the content of her statement. This was a conversation more likely to occur among the men at a Gmay meeting. “He mustn’t be allowed to taint the faith of others.”

  “As Leesa said, he’s ten.” Henry’s quick smile in her direction encouraged Leesa. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Noah. “He’s suffered much for so young a child. We’re working on his faith. Slowly but surely he’s learning that suffering doesn’t mean that Gott doesn’t exist. He’s learning that often hardship comes from this fallen world we live in. That’s a hard concept for adults to understand, let alone kinner.”

  Noah picked at the crumbs on his napkin. He squeezed them together in a pinch and popped them into his mouth. Contemplating the empty saucer, he sighed. “Wise words, indeed. I just wanted to make
sure you’re on top of the situation and not distracted.” His frown at Leesa left no doubt as to his meaning. “If my help is needed to properly instruct him, let me know. Sooner rather than later. How has he been at schul?”

  “Much better.” Not perfect, but no child was. “His reading has caught up to grade five, and his handwriting is much improved.”

  “I’m not asking about academics.”

  “I haven’t had to single him out for correction.”

  Not this week, and it was already Thursday.

  Noah lifted his hat and scratched his head. “You know my kinner like to tell us about their day at the supper table.”

  No doubt. Leesa’s siblings did the same. “There was an incident on the playground one day last week.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “All the younger boys were involved. Not just Tommy. Even my bruder, Job.”

  “Who threw the first mud ball?”

  “No one gave up the instigator.”

  Instead, they had given the school’s interior a good scrubbing at the end of the day. It seemed only fitting, given how muddy their boots, clothes, and hands had been after the mud fight, which had ended with the boys rolling around in the puddles during the afternoon recess.

  “My kinner weren’t involved.”

  “Nee.” As the children of the bishop they undoubtedly carried a heightened sense of the need to set an example. “None of the girls either.”

  Noah lowered his hat back on his head. “If you feel you’ve handled it adequately, I’ll let it lie. For now.”

  Leesa breathed.

  “I’ve heard talk.”

  Her lungs constricted once again.

  “About what?” Henry took a large bite of cookie and chewed slowly. His tone was neutral, but color suffused his face.

  “I’m aware that yours is an unusual situation, Henry.” Noah pursed his lips as if sucking on a lemon. “The elders and I have concerns, though. Courting is one thing. Two people playing house prematurely is another. Great care is required to make sure lines are not crossed.”

  Leesa supposed that was the closest he would come to speaking forthrightly on the subject. Her cheeks burning, she studied the pine table as if it fascinated her. Again this was a discussion between the two men at the table.

  “Your concern is unnecessary.” Henry’s tone was cool. “Be assured that decorum is observed within the proper boundaries of courting.”

  “And it’s not just a project you’re working on together?”

  “What do you mean?” Leesa and Henry voiced the question in unison.

  “It’s obvious you both care for Tommy.” Noah shrugged. “It speaks well of you both. But by itself, that’s not a reason to court.”

  “That’s not what’s happening here.” Henry sounded sure of himself. He grinned at Leesa. “Not for me. You?”

  “Nee.” Certain her skin would turn to ash, such were the flames burning her face, Leesa managed to shake her head.

  “Gut. See to it that it isn’t.” With that, Noah’s face broke into a broad grin. “Also know that there are those of us who wish only the best for both of you.”

  Surprise nearly knocked Leesa from her seat. Their bishop saw beyond convention to the hope for happiness. He hadn’t forgotten how sweet romance could be.

  Henry looked equally taken aback. Rather than try to respond, he simply nodded.

  “Well, I’d better get home before my fraa sends out a search party.” He stood. “She’s making an enchilada casserole. It smells like your supper may be burning.”

  “Ach! I’ll get it.”

  Leesa dashed to the kitchen, leaving Henry to escort Noah to the door. She stirred the sauce with a wooden spoon and lowered the flame. A small taste confirmed it was only slightly singed. She filled a large pot with water for the noodles and set it on the stove.

  Hands slid around her waist and tugged her back. Henry’s scent of wood and soap drifted over her. His lips nuzzled her neck. “Henry.” She should pull away, but she didn’t. She allowed her body to lean against his. “Didn’t you hear Noah just now? Proper decorum.”

  “I heard him say people only want the best for us. Which means they want us to be together.”

  “That may be stretching his words a bit.” Leesa turned in his arms so she could lean her head against his chest. She fit perfectly in this spot, like her body had been waiting for it all along. “People want us to be happy.”

  “I’m happy. Are you?”

  She raised her head to look up at him. “I am.”

  Emotion sparked in his eyes. His head inclined, then paused, his mouth inches from hers. “Are you sure? I don’t want to push you. I know you’ve been down this road—”

  Heart pounding in her ears, Leesa stretched up until her lips met his. They were warm and soft and sure. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He lifted her from the ground. She might be flying. Soaring.

  Gently, her sneakers touched the ground once again. She opened her eyes, and he smiled. “I’ve been waiting for that.”

  “Me too.”

  “Not too soon?”

  “Nee.”

  “I didn’t want to rush you.”

  “Danki for that.”

  “Any regrets?”

  “Nee. None. I can either stay in the past and miss wonderful, glorious kisses like that, or I can move forward, knowing that I have to take a chance at getting hurt.”

  Henry smoothed her cheeks with his thumbs. “Same here.”

  The feel of his hands on her skin was almost too much. She inhaled and gathered her wits. “We should—”

  This time he didn’t stop midway. He kissed her softly at first and then more deeply. The past disappeared into a dark, dense forest of soon-to-be-forgotten hurt and loss. Henry offered her his all. She offered him her everything.

  “Eww. Gross.”

  At the sound of Tommy’s disgusted voice, they stumbled apart. The staggering drop was much like jumping from the tree branch over Lake Kooscanusa on a gorgeous, hot summer afternoon. Leesa was suddenly immersed in cold water with no air to be had.

  “Uh, sorry.” Henry recovered first. “We were just . . . We’re just . . . making the spaghetti.”

  Tommy chortled. “I never seen anyone make spaghetti like that before.”

  “Just hush and go feed Dodger. Then wash your hands and set the table.”

  Still chortling, Tommy did as he was told.

  “We’ll have to watch out for that.” Despite his words, Henry grinned. “I don’t want to set a bad example.”

  “There was nothing bad about that.” Leesa grinned back. “But I agree. Slow and steady remains the best course of action.”

  “If you’re talking about kisses, I prefer slow and long. Would you like me to show you?”

  “Henry, he’ll be back any minute.”

  “Sixty seconds is better than nothing.”

  He proceeded to prove it.

  12

  Slow and steady had its perks. Leesa smiled to herself as she stoked the fire in the wood-burning stove. It gave Henry and her plenty of time for kisses, hugs, and sleigh rides with their knees almost touching under thick fleece robes as they dashed over snowdrifts.

  She glanced around the schoolroom. The single-sheet, handwritten Christmas programs had been distributed to the desks before the children left school on Friday. The older children had decorated the chalkboard with colored chalk and written Welcome across the top. The boys hung cotton sheets across the front of the room to serve as stage curtains. They also set up card tables along the far wall awaiting the sweet treats that would be shared after the program.

  Any second her scholars and their families would begin to pour through the door.

  Leesa was ready. She’d made it halfway through her first school year.

  The door swung open. Tommy tromped in with a wrapped package under one arm. A big basket in his gloved hands, Henry followed. Much stomping of feet on the rug mingled with their greetings.
r />   “You’re the first to arrive.” Leesa rushed to relieve Henry of his burden. She peeked in the basket. Mandarin oranges, apples, and bananas. A perfect offering from a widower who hadn’t mastered the art of baking. “I love mandarin oranges.”

  “This is for you, Teacher.” Tommy held out the box wrapped in brown paper. “Open it, open it!”

  “You don’t want me to save it until Christmas Day?”

  Tommy and Henry were invited to the Yoders’ for the day. If the weather was bad on Christmas Eve, they would go early and spend the night.

  “Nee, you’re opening all the presents from your scholars now.”

  “Just let me set this down.” Leesa deposited the basket on one of the tables and ripped the paper from the package to reveal a small wooden box on which crude flowers had been carved. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I made it.” Tommy volunteered. “Henry showed me how. He let me use some of the machines at the furniture shop. I carved the flowers by hand. It’s for your hairpins and your combs and brushes.”

  “You did a wunderbarr job.” Leesa hugged him, and he returned the embrace. That he allowed such a display of affection spoke to his steady improvement over the past few months. He no longer fought going to school or church. He even bowed his head during prayer. Henry was still working on the boy’s weak faith. Slow and steady would win the race. “I can’t wait to go home and put my hairpins in it.”

  “You really like it?”

  “I do. Danki.”

  “Open the top!”

  Leesa opened the box. Inside she found a pile of screws. It took only a few seconds for understanding to dawn. “Your desk?”

  His cheeks crimson, Tommy nodded. “I’m sorry I made my desk fall apart, and I’m sorry I lied.”

  “You’re forgiven.” Leesa set the box aside and hugged him hard. “Thank you for telling me the truth,” she whispered in his ear. “I know you’ll do better in the future.”

  He pulled away and grinned. “What did you get me?”

  “Tommy!” Henry squeezed his shoulder. “It’s not proper to ask.”

 

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