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

by Brenda Minton

  Greta smiled at their teasing and sat down beside Mr. Hooper to examine his arm. His wrist was swollen and turning purple-blue. “What happened?”

  “When the airbag deployed, it was like a hammer hitting my wrist. I hope it’s not broken. My poor van’s in bad shape. I’m afraid I’m not going to get those folks to Bird-in-Hand tonight. Even if I could get a tow truck to pull her out, I don’t think she’s drivable.” He looked ready to cry.

  Greta felt sorry for the man who loved his van as much as her grandfather loved his sheep. “There’s no point in worrying about that tonight. Let me bandage that wrist for you. It will feel much better with some support. We will decide what’s best to do in the morning.”

  Carl said, “There is a phone shack a half mile past the end of our lane. I will call a tow truck for you tomorrow. There’s a garage on the other side of Hope Springs out by the interstate. The mechanic there has a good reputation. I’m sure he can fix your van.”

  “I hope so. I have Amish folks depending on me to drive them places over the holidays.”

  “Can’t you use your cell phone to call?” Greta asked.

  “It got busted in the crash. It’s useless.”

  Naomi came into the room. “We must give thanks that this accident wasn’t worse. I could use some help getting supper ready for everyone. Betsy, would you run down to the cellar and fetch up two jars of the corn you girls put up last summer? Lizzie, do you feel up to making dumplings? I’ve got some canned chicken I can whip into soup. Greta, when you are finished with Mr. Hooper, would you get some of my rhubarb pie filling out of the pantry? I think a couple of your wonderful hot pies will be goot on a cold evening like this.”

  “Can I make peach?” Greta asked, thinking of Marianne’s preference.

  Naomi smiled at her. “Make whatever you like, child. Having you home again is wunderbarr.”

  While Naomi and the rest of the women set about preparing to feed their unexpected guests, Greta bandaged Mr. Hooper’s wrist. After she was finished with him, she went to check on Toby and Marianne. Her grandfather and Carl were visiting with them. Arles followed her in, and her grandfather gave up his recliner to the Englisch driver, even going so far as to fetch him a pillow to prop up his arm.

  Toby and Marianne were seated together on the sofa holding ice packs to their heads. Christmas lay curled in Marianne’s lap looking as Amish as her owner with her head bandaged and her chin resting on her paws as if in prayer. The cat’s gaze was fixed on Duncan sitting beside Carl. She gave an occasional low growl in her throat.

  Greta approached Toby. “Let me take a look at that dressing. I want to make sure the bleeding has stopped.”

  He removed the ice pack and tipped his head so she could see. “How does it look?”

  She reached to brush his hair back, but hesitated and quickly put her hand down when she saw Carl watching her. She and Toby weren’t traveling in the back of the van anymore. That kind of familiarity would not be accepted by her family. She was expected to be circumspect around men. She clasped her hands together and kept her tone neutral. “It looks fine.”

  *

  Toby tried to make a joke out of it. “I reckon my hard head is a blessing.”

  He wanted to see her soft smile, the one that warmed him all the way through. He wanted to recapture the easy camaraderie they’d shared, but Greta didn’t smile at his jest. Was she angry with him? His heart sank.

  She had every right to be. A modest Amish maedel might not kiss a fellow until they were engaged, maybe not even until their wedding day. He had cheapened their relationship with his impulsive behavior.

  Surely, she didn’t think he considered her a loose woman. Nothing could be further from the truth. How could he make her understand that? He glanced around at her family watching them. Finding time alone with her would be difficult if not impossible.

  What if he couldn’t undo this mistake? When would he learn to think before he acted?

  “I praise God that it wasn’t worse,” Greta said.

  He studied her, trying to pinpoint what was different about her. Then he realized she wasn’t standing as tall. Her shoulders were bowed and her head lowered. He tried once more to make her smile. “Maybe He was trying to knock some sense into me.”

  It didn’t work. She turned to his sister. “Let me see your bump, Marianne.”

  Marianne leaned closer and whispered, “Can I have my bonnet back? Your mammi took it away.”

  “It had some of Toby’s blood on it and it was wet from the snow. Once it is washed and dried, you can have it back. Would you like to borrow one of my kapps?”

  Marianne glanced around the room covertly. “Ja, please.”

  “Come upstairs with me and I’ll find you one.”

  At least she was still being kind to his sister. He was grateful for that. Marianne handed him the cat who continued to growl low in her throat. He wasn’t sure he actually wanted to be holding her if the big dog decided to accept her challenge. After the girls left the room, an awkward silence prevailed.

  Toby looked at Arles trying to get comfortable in the chair. “Would you like this ice pack for your arm? I’m finished with it.”

  “Might as well try. It aches like nobody’s business.”

  Joe stood up. “I’ll give it to him. You sit and hang on to that cat. Are you still dizzy?”

  “Nee, I’m fine.” Toby handed over the ice pack.

  Joe took it to Arles and returned to his chair. “How was your journey with my granddaughter and her uncle?”

  “It was fine.” He would need to start using a new word.

  “Toby and your granddaughter got along like two peas in a pod, sir, but Mr. Barkman was something of a trial,” Arles said.

  Joe leveled a stern look at Toby. “Like two peas in a pod?”

  Toby squirmed on the sofa and resisted the urge to loosen his collar. “Greta was a fine traveling companion. She took to my sister quickly and was able to entertain her. She was very worried about her uncle, though.”

  Arles chuckled. “Once the child had the cat, you two were left to entertain each other in the back.”

  Joe’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly what type of entertainment did my granddaughter supply?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Had the temperature of the room suddenly gone up?

  Toby cleared his throat while he tried to think of something that wouldn’t offend Greta’s grandfather. “Entertainment? We did some cross-stitch. It’s something I’ve been meaning to take up again. She’s a good teacher.”

  Toby thought Carl laughed, but he turned it into a cough so Toby couldn’t be sure. Joe glared at him.

  The ensuing awkward silence lasted until the girls returned. Marianne wore a black kapp instead of her usual white one. It was a little too big, but he knew she was more comfortable with her scars covered. She sat down and took the cat from him. He brushed his sweaty palms on his pant legs.

  Greta glanced from his face to her grandfather’s stern one. She arched an eyebrow at Toby. He gave her a weak smile. “I was telling your grandfather about our cross-stitching lesson.”

  She looked perplexed. “I’m going to go help in the kitchen.” She pointed in that direction.

  “A good idea,” her grandfather said. “I may have more questions for Toby.”

  Once she was out of the room, Toby went on the offensive to forestall any more inquiries from Joe or comments from Arles. “Greta told us that this is a sheep farm. How many sheep do you have, Joe?”

  Joe looked at Carl. “What was our last count?”

  “One hundred and eighty-five.”

  “How many baby lambs?” Marianne asked. Toby was surprised that she entered the conversation. She was normally reserved around people she didn’t know. He was tempted to hug her.

  “Lambs? None. We won’t have lambs until spring,” Joe said. “All we have now are pregnant mothers and four fat, lazy rams.”

  “What happened to your cat?” Carl asked.
His dog sat beside him, but the animal’s gaze was fixed on the doorway to Morris’s room.

  Marianne stroked the cat’s back. “She got caught in the engine of Mr. Hooper’s van. She’s really Greta’s cat, but Greta gave her to me before we left. She was afraid your dog wouldn’t like her.”

  Carl reached down to pet Duncan’s head. “Greta is right about that. Duncan likes to chase cats, but I think he will behave if I tell him he must. Should we introduce them and see how it goes?”

  Marianne clutched Christmas to her chest. “Not tonight. Christmas is grumpy. She might hurt your dog.”

  There was a second of silence, then everyone laughed. Marianne scowled at the men guffawing around her.

  Joe wiped a tear from his eye. “Poor Duncan, think what a blow that would be to his self-respect. I’d almost like to see it. I’m sure the cat could give him what for.”

  To Toby’s surprise, Marianne began laughing, too. She grinned at Carl. “She might. She’s a scrapper.”

  Toby settled back on the couch. It was worth a bump on the head and much more to hear his sister laugh again. Who would have thought a scrawny stray cat could be such good medicine.

  “In that case we had better make sure Duncan leaves her alone,” Carl said with a wide grin.

  After that, the men discussed the weather and what it might mean for the price of food and fuel if the storm lived up to predictions. When the conversation lagged, Toby remembered his first chat with Greta about sheep. “Do you have to worry about sheep in weather like this or do you keep them in the barn over the winter?”

  Joe said, “Can’t really keep sheep inside barns for any length of time unless you have very good ventilation. They’re prone to respiratory infections. We graze them in open pastures during the winter. We set aside several tracks of land during the fall and let the grass reach eight to ten inches in height. Even with a good snowfall on that, it won’t go completely flat. They can paw their way down to it.”

  “We have round bales of hay available for them, too,” Carl added.

  “Will they graze even in the storm like this?” Toby asked.

  “Sheep are ruminants. They tend to fill up prior to a storm. Then they can wait it out in a sheltered spot and just chew their cud. They can go up to two days without eating, and it will not cause them harm.”

  “What about water?”

  “If they can’t get to water, they eat the snow. Sometimes they would rather eat the snow than go to fresh water.”

  Toby noticed Greta was mixing dough on the counter near the doorway and listening to the conversation. She kept glancing in his direction. Her grandfather was an eagle-eyed fellow. He noticed, too. “What else did you and Greta talk about?”

  What had they talked about? Toby remembered the feeling of comfortable companionship more than he remembered individual conversations. He glanced at her. “We talked a little about her schooling.”

  Her eyes widened and she gave a quick shake of her head.

  He winced inwardly. Wrong topic.

  Joe’s eyes narrowed. “What about her schooling?”

  “Just that she liked school…and she hoped that my sister would like school in Pennsylvania…and that her sisters all enjoyed their schooling.” Toby stumbled to a halt knowing he sounded like a fool.

  Carl had his fingers pressed against his mouth but his eyes were crinkled with amusement. “Did she mention that her sister Clara had hoped to become a schoolteacher but decided to marry instead?”

  Toby started to nod but changed it to a shake. “Nee, I don’t think she did.”

  Greta rolled her eyes at him and went back to kneading her dough.

  “And what is it that you do, Toby?” Carl asked.

  “I’m a wood-carver by trade, but I was working in one of the RV factories in Fort Wayne until recently.”

  Arles lost his frown of pain and sat up with interest. “Which one?”

  Toby gave him the name and it opened a floodgate of questions from the driver about various models, gas mileage and upgrades. It seemed that he was eager to explore more of the country and thought an RV might be perfect for him since he enjoyed driving.

  Toby was able to relax a little as he answered Arles’s questions, but he had the feeling that Joe would keep an eye on him during their stay. His chance to find time alone with Greta was diminishing.

  It was some time later that Naomi came to the doorway and announced dinner. Duncan left his place by Carl’s chair and stood at the back door. Carl let him out. Marianne fixed a place on the couch with a pillow and a crocheted throw. She put Christmas inside the makeshift nest, and the cat seemed content to stay put.

  Supper turned out to be a delicious and generous spread with chicken and dumplings, golden yellow corn, green beans, homemade bread with blueberry jam and two peach pies for dessert. Toby hadn’t eaten so well in weeks. He was glad to see Marianne did justice to her plate, but it wasn’t long before her eyelids began to droop. He had to remember this was only her second day out of the hospital. Greta had been watching his sister, too.

  He caught her eye and tipped his head toward the stairs. She nodded. He smiled his thanks. She quickly looked around to see who might be watching them. She didn’t smile back. His heart sank. Had he lost her friendship for good?

  *

  Greta was glad to get away from the table. It was hard to have Toby so close and not speak to him. She rose from her place and touched Marianne’s shoulder. “Let’s get you and Christmas off to bed. It has been a very long day.”

  “Can Christmas sleep with me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Will the dog bother her during the night?”

  Joe said, “Duncan normally sleeps on the back porch so he can go out and keep an eye on the farm at night. Your cat will be safe inside.”

  Naomi said, “Joe, why don’t you fetch one of the little beds from the attic for Marianne.”

  “I was just going to do that.” He pushed away from the table with a wink for his wife.

  Marianne collected Christmas from the sofa and followed Greta upstairs. In Greta’s room, she stifled a wide yawn. “We need to feed Christmas. She must be hungry by now.”

  “I have some of the food the vet gave us right here.” Greta handed a packet to Marianne who made a small pile of the kibble on the floor. Christmas made short work of her meal.

  Joseph brought the bed into Greta’s room and Naomi made it up for the girl. After they left, Greta fixed a makeshift litter box from an old cake pan and filled a bowl with water for the cat. She immediately came to get a drink.

  Marianne stroked her pet lovingly. “She likes it here. Everyone is friendly, and they didn’t make fun of the way she looks.”

  “My family loves animals. We take care of sick and hurt ones all the time. Why, you should see this house during lambing season. We have bottle lambs everywhere. I’ve even seen Daadi Joe holding two in his lap and feeding them in his recliner.”

  Looking up, Marianne’s eyes grew sad. “I think she wants to stay here.”

  Greta shook her head. “I think she only wants to visit for a little while. Until the storm is over. Then, she has a new family to meet who will love her and not make fun of her.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so. If she is ever unhappy, all she has to do is think about me and my family and how much we like her.”

  Marianne smiled. “I will. I mean, she will.”

  Greta stayed where she was to make sure Marianne fell asleep. At least that’s what she told herself.

  The truth was that she was hiding out. It was better than going downstairs to face Toby for the evening. Bandaging his head was one thing. Making small talk was another. His kiss was constantly on her mind. Everyone was sure to see how distracted she was.

  Why had he done it? Did he regret it? Would he try to repeat it?

  If he did, what would she do? Her thoughts ran around like spring lambs in the pasture, leaping this way and that without settling o
n a solution to her problem.

  How could she pretend the kiss hadn’t happened?

  It wasn’t long before her sister Betsy came upstairs. “I think we have everyone settled. Toby chose to sleep on the sofa. Arles elected to sleep in Joseph’s recliner with his arm resting on a stack of pillows. Naomi and Daadi have taken over my room so that Morris wouldn’t have to climb the stairs. Carl and Lizzie are in their usual bedroom down at the end of the hall. It looks like you’re stuck with me.” She began getting ready for bed. She took off her kapp and let down her hair.

  Greta did the same. “I don’t mind.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t. How is Marianne?”

  “Sleeping.” Christmas was curled up on the pillow beside her head.

  “Have you looked out the window? It’s still snowing heavily. I wonder how long our guests will be stuck here? I hope they stay until Christmas. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  Five more days? Greta didn’t think she could take it. “I’m sure it will blow itself out tonight. Marianne and her brother have family anxious to spend Christmas with them. How is Onkel Morris?”

  “I don’t know. He hasn’t poked his head out.”

  “Do you think we should check on him?”

  “Ugh, not me. I don’t want to get my head chewed off. You never did tell us about your trip. Was it awful?”

  Nee, it was wonderful.

  She could hardly admit that without explaining why. Instead, she said, “I’m glad it’s over. I wanted to tell everyone together, but I will tell you now. The nurse at the hospital told me Onkel Morris isn’t going to get better. He may only have a few months left to live.”

  Betsy sank onto the foot of the bed. “Are you serious?”

  “I am.”

  Betsy gripped her hands together and was silent for a long time. Finally, she looked up. “Does he know?”

  “Ja.”

  “Has it…has it changed him?”

  “Not that I can tell.”

  “I feel bad now for imagining that I could sic Duncan on him if he made me angry. It was very unchristian of me, but I did enjoy the thought.”

  Greta’s chuckled. “I know what you mean.”