An Amish Christmas Wedding

by Amy Clipston

  Mary felt her cheeks heat, then glanced away. The last thing she wanted was for Quinn to bring up their childish dreams. But the dream wasn’t so childish anymore for Quinn. It was coming true.

  “Is that right?” Jakob said. “I had no idea.”

  “Oh yes. Christmas is our favorite holiday. Both of us.”

  “I did know that.”

  Mary couldn’t help but glance at him, but thankfully he was still looking at Quinn. In fact, it was as if Mary weren’t even there. That didn’t set right with her either, but her mother would still expect her to show the man some hospitality.

  “Would you like some hot chocolate . . . Jakob?”

  He turned to look at her then. “I would. Thanks.”

  “Anyway,” Quinn said as Mary stood—turning her eyes away from him—“I came over to ask Mary if she would make our wedding cakes. I wanted to ask her in person.”

  “Cakes? Plural?” Jakob lifted a brow. “How many people are you expecting?”

  “Oh, it’s a small wedding, but traditionally at Yankee receptions, we have a bride’s cake, which is a larger one, and then a smaller groom’s cake.”

  She turned to Mary as Jakob accepted the mug she handed him without looking into his eyes again. Quinn smiled, but then she sobered a little as she turned back to Mary. “I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather make the cakes, but I don’t want it to interfere with you spending Christmas Eve with your family. I know how important that is to you.”

  Mary had always spent Christmas Eve with her entire family, all gathered here at her parents’ house. Her father read the story of Jesus’s birth from the book of Luke in the Bible, and then they munched on gingerbread cookies and popcorn balls she and her sisters made. They also drank freshly pressed cider made from apples they’d picked at her brother-in-law’s orchard in the fall. Then they exchanged simple presents, and Mary always delighted in seeing her nieces’ and nephews’ faces lit up as they played with their new toys, especially the girls with their dolls.

  But while Christmas was a special and beautiful time for her, Quinn was important to her, too, and she wouldn’t miss the chance to do something special for her wedding. She’d also been invited to attend the ceremony after she delivered the cakes, and she really did want to see Quinn get married. “I told you, I’m happy and honored that you asked,” she said, smiling.

  Quinn returned her smile, clasping her hands together. “I know they’ll be perfect and delicious.”

  “I’m sure they will be,” a deeper voice said.

  Stunned, Mary turned toward Jakob. While she’d been thinking about Christmas, she’d forgotten about him. She met his gaze to determine if he was being sarcastic, but she shouldn’t have been surprised to see genuineness in his eyes. Jakob didn’t have a caustic bone in his body, and he didn’t give out compliments unless he meant them. But the way things had been between them the last year, she couldn’t have been sure.

  He was leaning back in his chair, an ankle crossed over one knee, his gaze still directly meeting hers as he took a sip of his hot chocolate. She flinched as his eyes held hers—as if she were the only person in the room—and she felt like it was . . .

  She had no idea what it was.

  Jakob turned back to Quinn, and they started talking again.

  Mary put her hand over her fluttering stomach, trying to figure out what just happened. She couldn’t remember a time he’d ever looked at her like . . . that. Surely it wasn’t what she thought—attraction. Jakob had simply paid her a nice compliment just now. No big deal, especially since her baking skills were fairly well-known in the district. His backing up Quinn’s assertion that she would do a good job with the cakes wasn’t out of the ordinary.

  However, the tiny flip in her stomach was. Yet attraction on her part wasn’t likely either. Jakob was handsome, no doubt about that. But she’d been down the supposed road of romance with him, and the trip hadn’t been worth the pain.

  She had to get these thoughts out of her head.

  “So, Jakob, I didn’t expect to see you this afternoon. What brings you by?”

  He shifted in his seat. “Well, yer daed asked me to come—”

  Her father strode into the kitchen, still wearing his boots and coat. “Sorry I’m late, Jakob.” Then he looked at Quinn and smiled. “Hello. Maria told me that’s your car outside. How are the wedding plans coming?”

  “Great now that Mary’s agreed to bake the cakes.” Quinn checked her watch, then rose from her seat. “Sorry I have to run,” she said, gathering her purse and the magazine she’d brought to show Mary a photo of her wedding dress. “I’m supposed to meet with the florist at four, then with the caterer at seven.” She sighed. “I think the Amish have it right when it comes to planning weddings. What I wouldn’t do to have a huge group of people helping me with the preparations.” She blushed. “I’m having fun, of course. But trying to put all the pieces together . . .” She shook her head. “Anyway, thank you, Mary.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” she said, getting up.

  Quinn turned to Jakob. “It was good to see you.”

  “Same here.” He grinned.

  There went the flip again. She frowned as she accompanied Quinn to the front door, yet she was relieved her mother was somewhere else in the house so she couldn’t stare her down with questions about Jakob in her eyes. Then again, Mary certainly had a question for her father. Why did he ask Jakob to come here?

  She held Quinn’s belongings as she slipped on her winter coat. Then they both stepped outside on the front porch. A blast of cold air hit them as Mary quickly shut the door.

  “Thanks again,” Quinn said, giving her a side hug. “I’ll be back in two weeks to taste test your samples.”

  “Samples?”

  “Oh yes. That’s tradition too. You make a few small sample cakes, and then Tanner and I tell you which flavors we like the best.” She frowned. “Unless that’s too much trouble.”

  “Of course it isn’t.” Although she’d never heard of such a thing, it wouldn’t be difficult to make a few small cakes. “What’s Tanner’s favorite flavor?”

  “Chocolate, but why don’t you surprise us—or at least me? I’ve planned this wedding down to the last detail. I’d like to have at least one surprise.”

  Mary nodded, forcing a smile. “I understand.” She wasn’t about to admit that she didn’t like having so much pressure put on her. What if Quinn and Tanner didn’t like what she made? Or worse, what if their wedding guests thought her cakes were awful—at least the way they were decorated? She’d have to do some research at the library, then bake some trial runs—and practice decorating too. She was sure her family wouldn’t mind being taste testers.

  “I’d better let you get inside before you freeze.” Quinn headed down the steps, only to turn around when she reached the bottom. “Hey. Are you sure there’s, um, nothing going on between the two of you?”

  Crossing her arms against the chill, Mary said, “What are you talking about?”

  “You and Jakob. I thought I saw a spark in there. More than friendship.”

  Mary let out an awkward chuckle. “Trust me, there wasn’t a spark. I think your head is too full of romantic notions right now. With good reason, of course.”

  “Oh.” Quinn frowned a little, then shrugged before slinging her purse over one shoulder. “I’m sure you’re right. Tanner’s already tired of me talking about the wedding. I think he’s ready to elope, but he knows Mom and Dad would string him up if we did.” She grinned and waved with her free hand, then got into her car and drove away.

  Mary shivered as she watched her friend leave. It bothered her that Quinn had picked up on something she’d noticed—no, felt—herself. But anything romantic between her and Jakob was impossible. Not only would they never be a couple again, but she was sure their friendship was over for good. That still saddened her. When they broke up, she’d told herself they could return to what they’d had before.

  But she coul
dn’t have been more wrong.

  * * *

  “I hope you don’t mind talking out here. When I asked you to come, Maria and Mary had plans to be away from the haus this afternoon. I didn’t know those plans had changed until I got home just now.”

  “This is fine,” Jakob said, shaking his head as Wayne led him to the back of the barn. Whatever the man had to talk about, he clearly didn’t want his wife—and maybe not his daughter—to know about it.

  Wayne sat down on a hay bale and gestured for Jakob to sit on another one across from him. “I’d like to ask you to make something special for Maria, a Christmas present. This is our thirtieth Christmas together, and I want it to be memorable for her.”

  Jakob hid a smile. So Mary’s father had a romantic side to him. Apparently that gene missed Mary. He shoved the thought away. He didn’t need to be thinking about her in the context of romance, especially after he’d gazed at her in the kitchen. He’d meant to just glance at her, but when he looked at her after complimenting her baking skills, which were excellent, he couldn’t look away. She was so pretty, and a spark of feeling he’d thought was long dead had sprung to life—at the worst time. Besides, he and Mary were over in more ways than one.

  He focused on Wayne’s request. “What were you thinking of?”

  “Well, I have an example of yer fine work right here.” He looked toward the barn door, apparently to make sure neither Maria nor Mary had followed them, then withdrew a small keepsake box from his pocket. “I bought this from you for mei frau a couple of years ago. She loves the design, and I wonder if you have enough time to make her a cedar-lined hope chest like it. Nix fancy, of course.”

  “How big do you want the chest?”

  “Enough to hold several quilts. Her grossmutter died three years ago, and she inherited several. She treasures them, and she’s been keeping them in the linen closet. I think she’d like to have a special place for them all their own.”

  “I don’t think it will be too difficult to make it in time for Christmas. What day do you want it delivered?”

  “I’ll pick it up, so don’t worry about that.” Wayne paused. “I don’t want you to have to be bothered coming back here.” He sighed. “If I’d taken the box to yer shop, Maria would have realized it was gone. She uses it every day, and I’m sure she’d miss it. Then I’d have to explain everything. I don’t want to spoil the surprise. As it is, I don’t know how I’m going to explain yer being here today.” He shrugged, smiling half-heartedly. “I might just have to tell her this isn’t the right time of year to ask questions, it being so close to Christmas and all.”

  “So you’re gonna tell her to mind her own business?” Jakob grinned.

  Wayne chuckled. “I know better than that.”

  “I don’t mind bringing it to you,” he said. This was Mary’s father, and it didn’t sit right with him that he would have to pick up the gift. “Just let me know what day and where you want me to unload it, and I’ll make it happen.”

  Wayne nodded. “Danki, Jakob.” He rose from the hay bale and shook his hand. “Too bad things didn’t work out with you and Mary. I really thought they would.”

  So had he, at least early on. How wrong I was.

  “Anyway,” Wayne continued before he could decide if he should respond, “I know mei frau will be happy with this gift. Happy wife, happy life, ya?”

  “Ya.” Not that Jakob had any experience with a wife, happy or not. And the way he was going, he wouldn’t.

  Jakob rose from the bale, and they left the barn. Outside, a surge of frigid wind cut through him. Thanksgiving had been just last week, but from the cold temperatures they’d been having, winter seemed determined to set in early this year.

  “I suppose you wouldn’t want to stay for supper?” Wayne asked. “We’re having roast beef and mashed potatoes.”

  Jakob shook his head. “Mamm’s expecting me home. But I appreciate you asking.”

  Wayne nodded. Jakob was surprised he’d invited him, let alone mentioned Mary. More than likely he’d extended the invitation out of politeness, not because he expected him to accept.

  They walked to the driveway, and Jakob said good-bye. Wayne waited while he removed the horse’s blanket and unhitched him from the post, and then he turned toward the house. As Jakob climbed into his buggy, he heard Mary calling to her father and turned to look at her.

  “Mamm wants you to bring in a bushel of apples from the cellar,” she said from the front porch.

  Jakob couldn’t help but stare at her from behind the buggy’s winter shield. She had her arms wrapped around her chest, wearing only a thin blue sweater. It didn’t make sense for her to put on a coat when she was only delivering a quick message, but he didn’t like her being unprotected against the chill. A crazy thought entered his mind. He should run over and give her his coat, just like he had so many times over the years when she’d been cold.

  He checked himself. Some habits were hard to break, but he’d broken just about every one of them when it came to Mary. Funny how seeing her today brought back memories of her huddled in his coat—always two sizes too big for her no matter how old they were. He’d worked hard not to think about their lost relationship. He had no way to turn back time, no reason to dwell on what would never be again.

  The best way to avoid thinking about it now was to leave. He tapped on the horse’s flanks with the reins, then pulled out of the driveway and pushed Mary out of his mind, just the way he had ever since their friendship failed to return.

  2

  “Mary? Mary, did you hear what I said?”

  Mary looked at her mother and nodded, even though she had no idea what Mamm had been talking about. They had already made apple cobbler from some of the apples Daed brought in before supper, and now they were peeling apples for apple butter. She loved apples and never tired of them. Their shiny deep-red color reminded her of holly berries, which reminded her of Christmas, which made her think of Quinn’s wedding, and then of all things, of Jakob.

  “Humph.” Mamm set down her paring knife and looked at her. “You’ve been preoccupied ever since Quinn and Jakob were here. You almost burned the bottom of the rolls, and you never do that.” She paused and smiled a little. “They were delicious, by the way.”

  Mary nodded her thanks, then said, “I’m sorry, Mamm. What were you saying?”

  “I want to ask you something.”

  Oh no. Was she going to ask about Jakob? To her surprise, neither of her parents had said anything about him at supper. Or . . . If her mother tried to get Daed’s secret out of her, she might have a hard time resisting. She almost wished Daed hadn’t told her about the quilt chest, but when she inquired why he’d asked Jakob to come over, he didn’t have much choice.

  “Do you really think you’ll have time to make Quinn’s wedding cakes?”

  She held back a sigh of relief. This was about Quinn, not Jakob. “Why shouldn’t I have time?”

  Mamm picked up the knife again. “Did you forget you said you’d make six dozen Christmas cookies for the school program?”

  Oh. She had forgotten that. She cringed, wondering how she was going to manage baking the cookies—decorated Christmas ones no less—in addition to figuring out Quinn’s wedding cakes, all while she was working with her mother as a seamstress for their Amish and Yankee customers. Ever since the holiday season had started back in November, she and Mamm had been sewing even more for Yankees than Amish, especially making quilted pot holders, aprons, and other items that could be gifts. It was a blessing to have brisk business, but that meant an extra-busy Christmas season. She was determined to meet her commitments, though.

  “I’ll have to manage mei time well, but I can do it.” She glanced at her mother. “I can’t say nee to Quinn. Not about this.”

  “I know.” Mamm sighed and turned back to the apple she’d been peeling. “Quinn is like familye to us, and that’s the only reason yer daed and I are fine with you missing out on Christmas Eve here. I do wi
sh you could be with us, though.”

  “Me too.” Although she was finding it harder to be the only single woman around her family at Christmas. She’d dated one other man since the breakup with Jakob, but she’d never had a beau on Christmas Eve. Last year she and Jakob had ended their dating relationship the day before.

  A sudden warmth came over her as she thought about him. Only a few hours ago, he’d been sitting in the same chair she was in now. The effect he was having on her after all this time was so strange.

  “I wish I could help you,” Mamm said, “but you know how our orders are piling up.”

  “I promise I won’t let you down. You don’t have to worry about me missing out on work to do mei baking.”

  “Oh, well, I think there’s a little wiggle room there.” She smiled. “Let’s finish these apples and get them cooking. We’ll let them cool overnight and then make the apple butter in the morning.”

  Mary thought that was a great idea, and she and Mamm made quick work of peeling the rest of the apples. After the fruit had cooked in Mamm’s large stockpot, they put it in two big metal bowls and covered them with foil.

  “That’s enough for one day.” Mamm yawned and arched her back, then pushed her glasses up on her nose. “I’ll see you in the morning, Mary. Gute nacht.”

  “Gute nacht.” After her mother left, Mary pulled a pad of paper and a pencil from a kitchen drawer and sat down, this time in a different seat. Pushing Jakob out of her mind, she first considered the Christmas cookies. Each year the school gave a program, and now two more of her nieces and nephews were old enough to be in it. That was one reason she’d agreed to make so many cookies when one of the teachers asked. “Yer cookies are the best,” Juanita had said. “I know six dozen is more than you’d normally contribute, but they would really be appreciated.”

  “I’d be glad to,” she’d said. Of course, that was before Quinn’s request for the cakes. Still, making cookies wasn’t that difficult. She had her own special cookie dough recipe, and she had Christmas cookie cutters. A few sprinkles of red and green sugar on top of each cookie, and they would be good to go.