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Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for ChristmasHer Montana ChristmasAn Amish Christmas JourneyYuletide Baby

Page 46

by Brenda Minton


  She drew a deep breath. “After our parents died, Onkel Morris took us in. I have three sisters. Outwardly, it seemed a kind and generous thing to do. Behind closed doors, that was not the case.”

  “Your uncle treated you unkindly? I’ve noticed he’s not a likable fellow.”

  “It was worse than unkindness. He was cruel to us.” She glanced at Toby but saw only interest and compassion in his eyes, not judgment. She looked down. “He beat us often.”

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea. No wonder you seem so reserved around him.”

  “I won’t bore you with the details, but eventually he tried to force my sister Clara to marry a terrible man. We were powerless to stop it until my brave sister Lizzie ran away and found our estranged grandfather. She secured a place for all of us and then sent money to a friend to help us leave. We did so without my uncle’s consent on the morning of Clara’s wedding day. Morris was humiliated, as was the man who wished to marry her. They came after us and tried to force us to return. God, in his greatness, sent a wonderful dog named Duncan to foil their plans.”

  “God is good.”

  “He is indeed.”

  “What of your family now?”

  “Two of my sisters are happily wed to kind and generous men. My third sister may soon follow in their footsteps.”

  “And you?”

  “I have no plans to wed.”

  “Because you haven’t met the right fellow,” he said with a knowing smile.

  “It’s not just that. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with my life.” How could she be a good wife and mother if she had not forgiveness in her heart?

  “I don’t understand.”

  She managed a wry smile. “I’m not surprised. I’m considering going on with my schooling. I’m thinking about becoming a counselor and working with abused women.”

  Toby stopped walking and looked at her in surprise. “You mean leave the Amish?”

  *

  Toby was stunned. He didn’t know Greta well, but she didn’t seem like someone willing to discard her Amish upbringing. During his rumspringa, he’d met a few Amish girls who were anxious to escape their restrictive lives. They were easy to spot. They dressed Englisch every chance they got. Some of them smoked and drank. A few he knew had even experimented with drugs. He didn’t sense that restlessness in Greta.

  Maybe it was because she wasn’t looking to escape. She wanted to help others. He admired that.

  “Are you shocked?” she asked.

  “A little.” He looked at her through different eyes. Until a moment ago, he had been wondering if they could maintain their budding relationship over a long distance. It was possible. His cousin Marvin had written to a girl he met at a wedding in Wisconsin and eventually married her after many letters and a few long-distance trips. They were happy together. But a relationship with someone ready to leave the Amish had never been on Toby’s horizon. He’d enjoyed his rumspringa, but he always intended to be baptized and raise an Amish family.

  “What type of schooling would that require? Perhaps your bishop could give you a special dispensation if the need is great in your church.”

  “I do not believe it would be granted. Child and spouse abuse occur in every walk of life, even among Christian people, but I don’t think we Amish are as aware of it as the Englisch are. We tend to keep such things hidden if they occur to avoid interference by outsiders. We forgive unconditionally, but I fear we do not treat the cause of the problem. I would have to finish high school and go on to college to eventually become a counselor.”

  “That would take many years of study. Is this something you have set your mind on?” he asked. Such a decision could not be an easy one.

  “I’ve given it a lot of thought, but after this trip I realized I may not be ready.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She started walking again. “I realize that I haven’t forgiven my uncle for his abuse. I’m not sure I can help other women find forgiveness and heal if I can’t find it in myself.”

  “But we must forgive. It is God’s commandment to us.”

  “I’ve tried. I thought I had come to grips with it, but I’m still so angry with him. I didn’t even want to accompany him on this trip. I did so because my youngest sister was the only other person who could come, and she is too young to make this trip alone. I thought after his heart attack that he might have changed. I was hoping… I don’t know what I was hoping for. Forgiveness, some sign of remorse for the way he treated us in the past.”

  “Reconciliation,” Toby said softly.

  “Perhaps,” she agreed.

  “Forgiveness is one-sided, Greta. We can forgive someone without them being aware of it. It is simply between us and God. The other person doesn’t need to have any part in that act. When we want forgiveness and a chance for a new relationship, we are really looking for reconciliation.”

  “Maybe that is what I want. He’s family, after all. No one should be alone at the end of their life.”

  They walked in silence until they reached a small footbridge that spanned the stream flowing into the pond. Painted white, the wooden railings were adorned with swags of evergreen boughs tied on with large red bows. The scent of pine and the sound of rushing water filled the air. Greta stopped and leaned on the railing. Toby did the same. He propped his forearms on the wood and watched the water flowing between the icy banks beneath them as it raced to the pond and vanished under the ice.

  He and Greta were journeying toward their destinations, too. Unlike the water below, they weren’t headed in the same direction. What might have happened between them if they were going the same way? If she wanted to remain Amish? If he didn’t have to think of his sister first? If they didn’t live hundreds of miles apart?

  They were questions without answers. None of that really mattered. They would go their separate ways soon. All he had been granted was a few hours with this amazing woman.

  *

  Greta glanced toward Toby and found him watching her. There was a soft light in his eyes, a kind of sadness, but something else, too. She clasped her hands tightly together to keep from reaching out to touch him. “It’s strange. I find myself telling you things I have not shared with anyone else.”

  “I know it has taken a great deal of courage for you to tell me these things.”

  “You have made it easy,” she said softly, hoping he understood how much his kindness meant to her.

  “I suppose it’s easy because we won’t see each other after today. Or maybe it’s because we have been shut in the back of that van together for hours and hours.”

  It might be part of the reason, but it wasn’t the entire reason. There was something special about this young man. He touched a chord in her that she never knew existed. As much as she wanted to reach home, she didn’t want their journey together to end. Once she reached the farm, she would be plain, goot Greta again.

  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “It hasn’t been that bad, has it?”

  He smiled sweetly. “Nee, it hasn’t been bad at all.”

  A thrill tumbled across her heart. She looked away hoping to hide how much she wanted him to take her hand or drape his arm over her shoulder.

  Foolish wishes.

  Across the small lake, she saw her uncle and Marianne heading back to the van. Greta didn’t want to return. She wanted to stay here, on this little footbridge and spend hours with Toby. She wanted to learn everything there was to know about the man beside her. She already knew that he was kind, that he loved his sister deeply and that he was wise beyond his years.

  He looked up. “It’s starting to snow.”

  The wind swirled around them, driving a few cold flakes against her cheeks. It was God’s way of telling her that she could not stay here. Her life could not stand still. She had to move on. And that meant parting from Toby.

  “We should get back to the van,” he said, but he didn’t move.

  “All good things must en
d,” she said quietly.

  “This is a good thing, isn’t it?” He was gazing out at the pond, but the moment he spoke, he looked directly at her and she knew he was talking about them. She read the truth in his eyes. He felt the same compelling connection that made her long for more time together, but it wasn’t to be.

  “You have been a marvelous traveling companion, Toby Yoder.”

  He smiled sadly. “You, too, Greta Barkman.”

  There was no reason to prolong the inevitable. Greta pushed away from the rail and started walking with Toby close beside her. Neither of them said anything until they reached the van.

  Marianne and Arles were already inside. Christmas was meowing and tugging at her lead, struggling to get out of Marianne’s arms. Greta looked around. “Where is my uncle?”

  “I think Christmas was annoying him. She kept pawing at him. He said he needed to stretch his legs a little more. He went that way.” Marianne pointed toward the path that led through an arbor set between thick stands of shrubs.

  “We need to get going,” Arles said impatiently.

  “I’ll go get him.”

  Greta walked the way Marianne had pointed. The snowflakes were growing thicker and larger. She blinked away the ones that stuck to her lashes and picked up her pace. As she passed through the arbor, she stumbled to a halt and stood frozen in place as she stared at her uncle’s crumpled figure lying on the ground.

  Chapter Twelve

  She couldn’t move.

  All the years of cringing and avoiding Morris, of trying not to attract his attention, trying and failing not to trigger his wrath, all those memories and more put a wall in front of Greta. She didn’t have to help him.

  Even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it wasn’t true.

  She did have to help. If she didn’t, she would be no better than he was. He did not get to win. He did not get to make her into his own image.

  She rushed across the brown grass and knelt at his side. He was breathing. She gently rolled him onto his back and loosened his collar. Was it enough? What else could she do? Should she scream for help or run back to the van?

  He moaned. She took his hand between her own. “Onkel, can you hear me? What do I do?”

  “Another pill,” he whispered.

  She checked his pockets but the vial was gone. She looked around and saw it lying near his feet. She grabbed it, quickly shook a pill into her hand and put it under his tongue. After a minute, his breathing grew easier.

  “I’m going to go get help.” She rushed through the arbor and saw Toby waiting for her beside the van.

  The instant he caught sight of her he broke into a run toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Morris has had another attack.”

  Toby rushed past her, and she hurried to keep up with him. When Toby reached Morris, he gently lifted his head. “Do you need an ambulance?”

  “Nee, I don’t want to die in a hospital. Help me to my feet. I can walk now.”

  She and Toby helped Morris stand. He wavered for a moment, then straightened. “It appears God is not ready to take me. Here comes the child. Don’t alarm her.”

  “What’s wrong?” Marianne asked as she rushed to Morris’s side.

  He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I walked too far, and I needed a short rest, but I’m ready to go back to the van now.”

  “I’ll help you. You can lean on me,” she said.

  Her uncle did something that Greta had never seen. He smiled, but there was a faraway look in his eyes. “Danki, Miriam. You have always been my goot little helper.”

  “My name is Marianne, but you can call me Miriam if you want to,” she said as they walked away.

  He shook his head as if to clear it. “You must forgive an old man for his foggy memory. Marianne is your name, and that is what I will call you.”

  Greta stood beside Toby and watched the odd couple walk away. “I have never seen my uncle smile in all the years that I have known him. Your sister has a remarkable effect on him.”

  “As you have had a remarkable effect on her.”

  “You give me too much credit. I think Christmas is the one we should thank.”

  “I noticed how she was acting, too. From now on, I think your uncle and the cat should stick together.”

  “I’m not sure Marianne will agree to that.”

  “She will understand. The cat belongs to you.”

  They returned to the van. Greta quietly explained to Arles what had happened. “There is a hospital in Millersburg. Do you want me to stop there?” he asked.

  “Only if my uncle is feeling worse or has another attack.”

  “I’ll leave it up to you, then. We should be there in thirty minutes. Hope Springs is only forty minutes from Millersburg. If you don’t think we should stop at the hospital, I’d like to drive straight through. I’m afraid the storm is catching up with us.”

  When everyone was settled, Arles pulled out and headed down the highway.

  Now that she was in the home stretch of her journey, Greta found herself at a loss for words as she sat beside Toby. It was as if the companionship they shared was evaporating the closer she got to home. Perhaps that was the way it was meant to be. Theirs was a fleeting friendship and nothing more.

  As they rolled into the outskirts of Millersburg, Greta moved forward to sit beside her uncle. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tolerable.”

  “We can stop if you would like.”

  He sneered and then looked away. “A happy family reunion awaits me. Why would I wish to delay that?”

  Greta knew Arles overheard them. She caught his eye in the rearview mirror and shook her head. There was no need to stop.

  Beyond Millersburg, they ran into heavy snow as they passed the leading edge of the storm. The wind drove it down the highway in white slithering snakes and began to pile it in drifts along the edges of the roadway. Heavy gusts buffeted the vehicle, forcing Arles to slow down. The forty-minute journey stretched into an hour, but finally her grandfather’s mailbox came into view at the side of the road.

  “Turn left here,” she said.

  Arles braked, but the van fishtailed and skidded past the lane before he brought it back under control. “Sorry about that, folks. There must be some ice under the snow.”

  He managed to turn the vehicle around and safely negotiated the corner at a much slower speed. When her grandfather’s house and barns came into view, Greta was both grateful and sad. She was home, but her time with Toby was done.

  Arles stopped in front of the gate but left the engine running. “I’ll help you get your bags out.”

  “I’ll help her,” Toby offered.

  As Greta and her uncle stepped out, Marianne slipped the cat back into the pet carrier. “Goodbye, Christmas. I hope you like the farm. It’s got to be better than that town.”

  She fastened the top closed. Her lower lip was quivering, but she bravely offered the box to Greta. “I know you’ll take good care of her.”

  Greta folded her arms. “I was thinking that she might be happier living with you.”

  “Really?” Marianne’s eyes brightened.

  “Really. I’m afraid that our dog will chase her.”

  Morris shifted from one foot to the other. “He is a savage beast. The cat will be safer with you.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Toby asked, giving Morris a direct look.

  “I shall have all my loving nieces to attend to me. Let the child have the cat. I’m going inside. It’s cold out here.”

  Marianne put the carrier back on the seat. Then she jumped out of the vehicle and threw her arms around Morris. “Goodbye and thank you for letting me keep Christmas. I hope you get well soon. I will remember you in my prayers every night and every morning.”

  “Bless you, Miriam. You are a good child.” He turned away, climbed the steps slowly and went into the house.

  Greta dropped to her knees before Marianne ignoring the snow that covered the g
round. The child threw her arms around Greta’s neck and hugged her tight. “I’m going to miss you, Greta.”

  “I’m going to miss you, too. Take good care of Christmas for me. And remember, she isn’t ugly because she has a good heart. Never believe anyone who says otherwise.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  “You had better get back in the van. Smile. You will be home in a few hours.”

  Marianne got in and waved. “Goodbye and happy Christmas.”

  “Happy Christmas to you and to Christmas, too.” She closed the door of the van to keep out the cold.

  Toby carried Greta’s bag up the porch steps, and she followed him. Now was her chance to say goodbye without an audience. He turned to face her and everything she wanted to say flew out of her mind. The only refrain in her head was something she couldn’t say.

  Don’t go.

  *

  The snow whirled around the house, enclosing them in a cocoon of white. Toby was reluctant to leave. In two short days, she’d had a remarkable impact on him. He knew he would never forget her. “You made it home safe and sound.”

  “It was an interesting journey.”

  She didn’t move toward the door. It gave him the courage to take a step closer. “I know you must think I’m a bold fellow, but I was wondering if I might write to you. Please?”

  “I would like to know how your sister is doing and how Christmas is getting along.”

  He pushed his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. She cared about his sister and about the cat, but did she care about him? “I hope you and your uncle can make amends.”

  “Danki. I know you and your sister will do fine.”

  “I should get going. The snow was getting heavier. I know Arles wants to leave.”

  He started to turn away, but she stopped him when she said, “I will want to know how you are getting along in Pennsylvania, too.”

  He smiled, happy to know she did care about him and gave her the address. He’d already made a mental note of the number on her mailbox. “I want to hear all about your schooling and how your uncle gets along with your sisters and the dog.”

  “I wish you could come in and meet my family.”

 

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