A Wells Landing Christmas

by Amy Lillard

  They had always been running around, hiding their relationship, hiding their feelings. There wasn’t any time to decorate tables and light candles. Just another part of the beauty of together that they had missed. She was certain it would be impossible to get it back. She would have to wait until someone else came along and wanted to show her such things.

  Like that was ever going to happen. She had done so much damage to her reputation, she was lucky the good citizens of Wells Landing didn’t run screaming for the hills whenever she came near.

  They gathered around the table and bowed their heads to pray. Ivy’s prayer was a jumble of words, but she knew God understood. She wanted Him to watch over Ethan and take him in the way Ethan so firmly believed. She asked for peace in her own heart to allow the man she had barely known to be a part of her memories, but not a painful one. She needed her grandfather and Zeb to be safe. She even managed to get in a couple of lines for her mother and Alan before Dawdi raised his head.

  She went through all the motions. Scoop food up onto her fork, lift it to her mouth, chew, swallow. She even managed to smile occasionally and utter a few of those phrases of polite supper chitchat.

  And for a time she thought she had even fooled them into believing that everything was normal. But by the time she got the kitchen cleaned up and kissed her grandfather good night, she knew that she had fooled no one.

  “Come sit down,” Zeb invited, patting the couch seat next to him. The fire crackled warmly, casting shadows and flickering lights over the room. The candles on the mantel had been relit and added to the cozy feel. Christmas. It was almost Christmas.

  She eased down next to Zeb, doing her best not to sit too close. Her grandfather had already gone to bed. Tomorrow was a church Sunday, and he always liked to get up early. Well, when he wasn’t oversleeping.

  But even as she kept a respectable distance between her and Zeb, she wanted to scoot in close, tuck her head under his chin, and absorb his warmth into her own. She wanted to lay her cheek just below where his heart beat in his chest. And she wanted to stay that way all night long.

  “Tell me about him,” he coaxed.

  “What?”

  “This Ethan Davids.”

  “Dallas,” she corrected, then paused to collect her thoughts. “I don’t know a lot,” she admitted. “Only that he had cancer, not much family, and he was kind.”

  Why was it that simple kindness seemed so rare in the world?

  Kindness was free, like smiles and hope. So why wasn’t there more of it?

  “He sounds wonderful.”

  And he was, but she didn’t have to tell Zeb that. “I just wish I could have done more,” she lamented.

  “I’m sure to him it was more than plenty.”

  She murmured something she hoped would pass as a response, then settled back into the couch cushions. She was a better person from having known Ethan Dallas. She could only hope that sometime in her life someone would say the same thing about her.

  * * *

  Sunday morning dawned reluctantly, as if the gray sky had been asked to stay for an extended visit. Heavy clouds kept the day from being beautiful. But they did match her mood. She hadn’t wanted to wake up so . . . sad. It was Sunday. She loved Sundays. She loved going to church. Sure, no one said much of anything to her, but that wasn’t what was important. At church, she could forget for a bit that she was all alone. That no one loved her. That her chance at happiness had long ago slipped through her fingers. And it gave her plenty of time to pray for what was to come next.

  God had a plan. That was what her grandmother had always said. God had a plan, and when the time was right He would reveal it to her.

  She added Ethan to her prayers. Along with his grandson and daughter-in-law. He hadn’t mentioned anyone else, so she added family in order to cover anyone she might have missed. Prayer always made her feel better, and this time was no exception.

  She cast a quick look toward Zeb. He was sitting on the bench next to his father and brothers. Clara Rose was sitting a few rows ahead of Ivy next to the women in her own family, Paul Daniel asleep in her arms. Ivy’s attention strayed back to Zeb. He was looking particularly handsome today. Maybe because he was well-rested. Or maybe it was the ironing that she had given his church clothes.

  Ivy did her best to keep her attention on the preachers’ words for the rest of the service. It was Christmas Eve, and she needed to receive God’s word. She needed to have the reassurance that worship usually gave her. When all else was wrong, the church was always there. But today something was different, and she hated it. There was no comfort. Only questions.

  She needed that comfort. She needed to know that everything would go back to the way it was before last week, before yesterday. But could it really? And did she want it to? No. Not really. She wanted it to go back to the way it was two years ago and have a do-over, as they say. A second chance. But it was too much to ask, even at Christmastime.

  Once the last prayer was said and the members dismissed, Ivy grabbed her grandfather by the arm and directed him away from the tables.

  “I want to go home,” she said.

  “We will,” he promised.

  She shook her head. “I want to go now.”

  Church was at the Tommy Lee Detweilers’. They lived only a few houses away from the Weavers, but Ivy had insisted on taking the buggy this morning. Now she wished she hadn’t. She wanted to go home, but she didn’t want her grandfather walking by himself.

  “Ivy,” Dawdi started.

  “I’m going to walk home.” The day was cold, but she needed the chilly wind on her face to remind her of where she was. The here and the now. It was Christmas Eve. There would be no Christmas miracle for Ethan, or her for that matter, but it was a beautiful time to be alive, and she needed to remember that.

  “It’s too cold.”

  She wrapped her scarf around her head and pulled on her gloves. “You tell Zeb where I’ve gone. Maybe he can drive you home. Then I’ll take him on home later.”

  “Take him home? Whatever for?”

  “It’s Christmas Eve, Dawdi,” she explained. “He needs to be with his family.”

  Dawdi nodded thoughtfully. “Christmas.”

  Had he forgotten? From the look in his eyes, she supposed he had. But it was something anyone could have let slip their mind. Right? Yet she knew that wasn’t true. It might be easy to forget what day of the week it was, but Christmas was another matter entirely.

  “I’ll see you at home, okay?” She had to get away. She might be standing in the middle of the yard, but she felt as if everything was closing in on her.

  “Okay.”

  “What are you supposed to do?” she queried.

  “Tell Zeb you had to go and he needs to bring the buggy home.”

  “Right.” Ivy smiled. Her grandfather was going to be okay. For a while yet, anyway.

  She nodded her head and started toward the road. It wasn’t a far walk, and she really needed the cold, fresh air to clear her mind. Her thoughts had been running around in circles since the day before. She hadn’t managed to come to terms with Ethan’s death. She couldn’t believe he was gone. Maybe if she saw his room, or even talked to his family she could believe it. But there was a disconnect that kept her from moving on.

  She couldn’t go back to the senior home today. It was Sunday and Christmas Eve. But soon she would, maybe the day after Christmas. Second Christmas, they called it. It was a day for visiting friends and loved ones. The perfect day to visit again, talk to some of the others, and get her mind straight.

  “Ivy!” She was halfway home when she heard him call her name. She didn’t need to turn around to see who had followed her. She would know that voice anywhere.

  “Zeb.” She wanted to keep walking, but she knew he could overtake her in seconds. Running away wasn’t the answer.

  He ran down the road until he reached her side. “Where are you going?”

  “Didn’t Dawdi tell you?”<
br />
  “He said you were going home. Why?”

  She shook her head. “I need some time to myself.”

  His mouth pulled into a frown. “Being alone is the last thing you need. It’s Christmas. You’ve lost a friend.”

  She had lost so much more than that.

  “Let me walk with you,” he said.

  “What about Dawdi?” Weren’t he and Zeb driving home together?

  “Tassie and Karl said they would bring him home. Karl’s going to drive the buggy here, and Tassie agreed to pick him up.”

  “I think she likes Dawdi.”

  “I know she does, but there’s something about her . . .”

  He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. She knew exactly what he was saying, but she thought it was her granddaughter’s mentality. That no one would be good enough for her grandfather. No one would be right for him. But to know someone else saw it too . . .

  He fell into step beside her. “You shouldn’t be alone this time of year. No one should.”

  “He was alone. Ethan.”

  “Was he unhappy?”

  She smiled as they walked. “Not at all. He was one of the happiest people I know.”

  “Which just goes to show.”

  “Show what?”

  “That every man’s happiness is part of something more.”

  But what? She wanted to know. She so very desperately wanted to know. “I thought I would be happy with you and then—then—”

  “We could have been happy, but we needed time to heal.”

  “How was that supposed to happen? You went off to Florida.”

  Their steps slowed as their conversation intensified. “I only left because you told me to.”

  Her heart fell. She had told him that she didn’t need him. That she didn’t want him around. But it wasn’t the truth. She hadn’t wanted him to stay and have all the reminders that she would have. But she couldn’t leave. Too much of her life was wrapped up in Wells Landing. It was different for girls. Or at least that was what she had told herself.

  And there was nothing she could do about it now.

  She exhaled heavily. “That’s all in the past now.”

  He was nearly vibrating next to her. She knew that he wanted to deny her words. But thankfully he didn’t. He just walked beside her all the way back to her house.

  She turned onto the drive, and he doggedly stayed at her side. All the way to the house. He started up the porch steps after her, but she faced him then. She was one step up and eye to eye with him. She put out one hand, lightly laying it against his chest to further stop his progress.

  “I appreciate you walking me home and helping me with Dawdi, but it’s time for you to go home.”

  His brow wrinkled in confusion. “What? Why?”

  “Tomorrow is Christmas.”

  He scoffed. “That it is.” He started forward once again.

  Ivy stiffened her elbow. She wasn’t strong enough to truly hold him back, but her resistance held him in place.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. It’s simply time you went home to be with your family.”

  He seemed shocked still, and Ivy used it to her advantage. She marched into the house and shut the door before he could reply.

  She stared at the door, thinking about locking it, then decided that was too much, even for her. Instead she trusted Zeb to do the right thing and go home. Meanwhile, she would start some coffee, maybe have a piece of pie, and pretend her heart wasn’t breaking in two.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Zeb stared at the closed door until his eyes started to water. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t go home. He wouldn’t. Even though he couldn’t say why the thought was so unappealing. He knew that he and Ivy were done. That didn’t keep him from wanting to spend time with her. All the time he could until he returned to Florida.

  He turned and plopped down onto the bench next to the front door. With a flick of his wrist, he flipped his collar up to cover the lower half of his face. It was still pretty cold, and it would only get colder as he waited for her grandfather. And he was waiting. He wasn’t going home simply because Ivy told him he had to. She was hurting and in need of a friend. He was going to be that friend. Even if it was the only thing he could do for her, it would be done.

  He could hear her moving around inside, most likely starting the fire back up in the fireplace. Then the smell of coffee wafted out to him. What he wouldn’t give for a cup. He knew for certain she would give him one if he asked; she was just that kind of a person. But he wouldn’t ask. What did they call this? A Mexican standoff? He wasn’t sure exactly what Mexico had to do with any of it, but he wasn’t asking for a cup of coffee. He would sit out there and freeze before he did so. But hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

  He eased down a bit and tucked his nose into the folds of his scarf. Surely her grandfather would be home soon.

  The wait felt a little like forever, but couldn’t have been more than an hour. Zeb got up halfway through and went to the barn. There was no sense freezing when he could be working to stay warm. Besides, him doing her chores would make her all the madder.

  Truth was, he loved the way her eyes sparkled when she was angry. They looked like the stars as they reflected their light into the ocean. He rolled his eyes at his own fanciful thoughts and climbed into the hayloft to toss down a couple of fresh bales.

  He had to quit thinking about Ivy that way. She didn’t want him like that. Their chance was gone, over, caput. And he was going back to Pinecraft. At least that was the plan, and he saw no reason to change it now. His family here didn’t need him, and he had already learned that he couldn’t be around Ivy and not want to hold her and touch her. And that was not okay.

  He came out of the barn as Karl turned Yonnie’s buggy onto the lane. He waved at the other man, wondering why he kept coming over to see Ivy if he wasn’t interested in her. At first Zeb had thought that was what Karl wanted—a chance with Ivy—but now Zeb wasn’t so certain. Could it be that Karl wanted to marry his mother off to Yonnie? Or was the woman herself behind all these visits?

  He preferred the thought of Yonnie and Tassie over the thought of Karl and Ivy. Ivy deserved better than frowny ol’ Karl Weber. Zeb didn’t remember the man being quite so . . . grumpy before he’d gone to Florida—not that he kept good company with Karl or any of his friends. And he wondered what made the man so sour-faced.

  Karl hopped down from the carriage, flicking a hand toward the gelding the Weavers used to pull their buggy. “He’s all yours,” Karl said.

  Zeb wanted some way to retort, to bring the man back to the truth, but he decided that any wisdom he might impart would be lost on Karl.

  Instead he nodded and started to unhitch the horse. “Danki.” What else could he say without looking like a jerk himself?

  He no sooner got the horse put back into the barn than Tassie was pulling up with Yonnie in the seat beside her.

  The couple got out, and Zeb watched as Tassie walked him to the porch. As strange as it was, that was the only way to describe it. And Zeb wondered how much Tassie knew of Yonnie’s memory problems. Had to be some. But her attitude toward him grated Zeb’s nerves.

  It’s none of your business.

  And that was true. It didn’t concern him at all. Other than that it concerned Ivy, and he was interested in everything that happened with Ivy.

  Not that she wanted him to be.

  Zeb made his way toward the pair as Karl climbed into the buggy’s seat.

  “And we’ll be by tomorrow after three.”

  “Tomorrow after three,” Yonnie repeated with a nod.

  “Can you remember that?” Tassie asked.

  Something in her tone set Zeb’s teeth on edge.

  “Of course I can remember.”

  “What’s going on?” Zeb asked.

  “Hey, Zeb.” Yonnie gave him a nod of greeting. “We were just going over tomorrow’s plans. Karl and Tassie are
coming back for pie.”

  “Is that so?” Zeb pinned Tassie with a curious stare. At least he hoped it was more curious than accusatory. Which was exactly how it felt.

  “We’ll see you then.” Zeb gave a nod that was both accepting and dismissing all at the same time.

  “Are you going to be here?” Tassie asked.

  You can bet your sweet shoes I am.

  “Of course. Christmas with the Weavers. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  She didn’t say as much, but Zeb could tell the idea of him being there tomorrow was not part of her plans. Her nose wrinkled just a bit, as if she had smelled something bad. Then her mouth tipped up at the corners to form a smile, but it didn’t reach past her cheeks. To say the woman wasn’t very happy was an understatement.

  “Tomorrow,” she said again, then hoisted her petite frame into the buggy behind her son.

  Yonnie turned to Zeb as Karl started the buggy back down the drive. “What are you doing out here, son?”

  Should he tell the truth or fabricate some feasible lie? “Ivy kicked me out.”

  “What?” Yonnie swung around to stare at the house, as if the answers could be found right there on the front porch.

  “She told me it was time for me to go home and be with my family.”

  Yonnie nodded in that understanding way of his. “It is Christmas.”

  “Jah.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  Zeb stopped. He wanted to do so many things. He wanted to spend time with his father and brothers, Clara Rose, and baby Paul Daniel. But he also wanted to spend as much time with Ivy as possible. And Yonnie too. These last few days had been a balm to his frayed soul. Funny, but he hadn’t realized how worn it was until he had returned. He had been down in Florida hiding out, just like Ivy had said. But here, in Wells Landing, he couldn’t hide any longer. He had to face the truth, and the truth was he needed healing as much as Ivy did. He needed to see her, know that she was happy, know that she had moved on. Know that she had started her life once again. But she had done none of those things. He had left, and they had both been put on hold. Only he’d thought he’d grown and gotten over their loss. He had gotten over nothing. Not the baby, not the shame of what they had done, not losing Ivy. And there was only one way to do that.