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

by Brenda Minton

  “You and Daadi were right. Onkel Morris has found a way to ruin our Christmas.”

  Greta crossed the room to give her sister a hug. “We must not let that happen. We will have a wonderful Christmas, and together we can show him all that he has missed. Who knows, maybe the Lord will use the love in this house to change our uncle’s heart before it is too late.”

  “Well, He has been known to work miracles.”

  “Indeed He has.” Greta began to giggle, and Betsy joined in, both holding their hands over their mouth so they wouldn’t wake the sleeping child.

  They were still giggling when they blew out the lamp and crawled under the covers. Even though she was dead tired, Greta found it hard to sleep knowing that Toby was just downstairs. When she got out of the van that afternoon, she never expected to see him again, and yet God had sent him right back to her. What did it mean?

  Why give them another day together? Wasn’t a clean break the best? Oh, she wanted to spend more time with him, but even if he stayed another day, he was still going to leave. Her heart ached at the thought. She punched her pillow into shape.

  She would recover from this loss. The strange feeling that made her giddy when she was near him would fade with time and distance. She was too practical a person to dream about a man who was far away. Wasn’t she?

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated on not thinking. It didn’t help. In desperation, she began counting sheep. At three hundred, she stopped that futile exercise, too.

  Rolling over carefully so as not to disturb Betsy, Greta saw Christmas had made herself at home on the window ledge. She sat peering intently out into the night. Greta listened, but heard nothing except the wind and the hiss of snow against the window panes. What was the cat looking at?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rising, Greta moved to the window, crossing her arms to ward off the chill. She pulled back the simple white curtain and tried to look out. All she could see was the swirling darkness. No hint of light from the moon or stars penetrated the blizzard raging outside. Even their Englisch neighbor’s yard light, normally visible from Greta’s window, was hidden from view. The howling wind continued unabated. Toby and his sister wouldn’t be leaving in the morning.

  The cat licked her paw and looked at Greta. She ran a hand down the animal’s sleek back. The cat arched into her hand and purred.

  “I’m sure you’re happy to have a warm place to sleep and all the food you can eat, but you will have that in Pennsylvania, too. Why make everyone stay here? He kissed me. What am I supposed to say to him tomorrow? How shall I act?”

  Christmas yawned, her pink tongue curling back on her white teeth. She lay down and began to lick her paws.

  “I see you have no answer for me. Why am I surprised?” Greta leaned her forehead on the cold glass. “I have no answer for me, either.”

  Tomorrow would come soon enough.

  Somehow, she would find a way to get through it.

  In spite of her sleepless night, Greta was the first one up in the morning. She crept into the kitchen expecting to find it empty, but Toby stood with his back to her as he gazed out the window over the sink. She paused in the doorway. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to act. She took a step back, intending to return upstairs.

  He turned around, but the sweet smile that she expected was missing from his face. “Good morning.”

  She stiffened her back and lifted her chin. “Good morning. I was about to put on some coffee.”

  “That sounds good. It’s still snowing. I don’t think we are going anywhere today.”

  He looked wonderful in the soft morning light. His hair was rumpled. There was stubble on his cheeks and his clothes were the same ones that he had been wearing yesterday. She had never seen a better looking man.

  “How’s your head?” she asked, trying hard to conceal how much she cared.

  He touched the bandage. “Sore.”

  “I’m not surprised.” She took the coffeepot from the back of the stove and carried it to the sink, forcing him to step aside. He was so close that her nerve endings tingled with awareness. She concentrated on keeping her hands steady.

  “Greta, about yesterday…” His voice trailed away.

  She turned toward him clasping the coffeepot to her chest as if it could shield her from heartache. “What about it?”

  “I was out of line.”

  He was going to say he was sorry again. She didn’t want to hear that. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “Please know that it was never my intention to hurt you.”

  She turned to the sink and began filling the pot with water. “It was just a kiss, Toby. Don’t tell me you’ve never kissed a girl before.” She would die before she told him it had been her first. Very likely her last.

  “I have kissed one or two girls, but it didn’t mean anything.”

  She smiled so brightly that her cheeks hurt and turned to face him. “Well, there you go. We can agree that it didn’t mean anything. Now, can we talk about something else?”

  *

  All night he had rehearsed this conversation in his mind instead of sleeping. He wanted to know how she felt about his impulsive but heartfelt act. He had his answer. Although it wasn’t the one he wanted.

  The kiss had meant a great deal to him, but clearly, it hadn’t meant anything to her. She moved about the kitchen fixing coffee and getting eggs out of the refrigerator, stepping around him as if he were nothing more than an obstacle in her path, not someone she had grown fond of the way he had grown fond of her. At least she wasn’t angry. That was something.

  “I’ll get out of your hair,” he said, moving toward the living room.

  “I’ll call you when breakfast is ready,” she said as she cracked eggs into a bowl.

  She sounded so cold, so distant. He wanted to say something that would restore the closeness and the friendship that they had shared, but he feared he had ruined that forever.

  He walked out of the room. At the door, he paused and looked back. She stood with her arms braced on the countertop and her head down as if the weight of the world were crushing her. He heard a muffled sniff and it cut him to the quick.

  He was back at her side before the thought even formed in his mind. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to gather her in his arms. “Don’t cry, Greta. I’m sorry. It was foolish of me. I knew that I would never see you again, and I couldn’t bear that. I meant no disrespect, although I’m sure you didn’t see it that way. Please forgive me.”

  She straightened and scrubbed her cheeks with her palms. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  “I might believe that if you weren’t crying. The last thing I want to lose is your friendship.”

  “We were friends, weren’t we?” She asked in a small and timid voice.

  “We are friends,” he said firmly. “If I ever have to journey in the back of a van for two days again, I would choose you to accompany me over anyone else in the world.”

  She gave him a watery smile. “It was better than riding the bus.”

  “I’ll take your word for that. Am I forgiven for my lapse of good sense? I don’t think I could stand it if I knew you were still angry with me.”

  “I’m not angry with you.”

  “Danki. I will mind my manners from here on out.” He would, no matter what it cost him. Because even now, with her wiping away tears, he still wanted to kiss her. He didn’t understand this hopeless attraction to her, but he wanted her friendship. And he wanted to see her happy more than he wanted another kiss.

  She sniffed again. “How do you like your eggs?”

  “Over hard, break the yolks.”

  “I think I can manage that. Can I ask a favor?”

  “Anything,” he said and he meant it.

  “Would you check on my uncle for me?”

  “I will, and I will be as quiet as a mouse.”

  *

  After Toby left the kitchen, Greta turned to the
sink and splashed water on her face to erase any evidence of her tears. She scrubbed as hard as she dared. What a fool she was. She wasn’t angry at Toby. She was angry at herself for making a mountain out of a molehill.

  These crazy feelings that tangled her up when he was near were a mess of her own making. She had been lonely, frightened and insecure from the moment she faced her uncle again. Toby’s kindness had been a balm to her wounded spirit. His friendliness was a stark contrast to her uncle’s animosity. She made her relationship with Toby into more than it really was. She craved his calm gentleness and somehow she communicated that need in a way he had misinterpreted. He wasn’t to blame. She would simply have to control those emotions. Now that she was home and surrounded by her family, she wouldn’t need him to soothe her battered mental state.

  After using a kitchen towel to blot her face, she drew a deep breath and resolved to be something other than a weeping basket case when he spoke to her. She set about fixing breakfast with a vengeance.

  “So you let him kiss you. A fellow will not buy the cow if he can get the milk for free.” Morris came out of the pantry just off the kitchen.

  Mortified, she stared at her uncle in shock. “You were eavesdropping on us!”

  He held out an orange box. “I was looking for some baking soda. I have indigestion. I couldn’t help overhearing what you said. The door was ajar.”

  She turned away in disgust. “I don’t suppose you thought of letting us know you were there.”

  “I did think of it.”

  He moved to the sink, poured a glass of water and mixed a spoonful of baking soda into the liquid. He turned around and sipped the drink slowly. Greta got on with her work and began mixing dough for biscuits.

  “You know he was simply bored and using you to pass the time on our trip, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know anything of the sort.” She tried to sound defiant, but she only sounded defensive and insecure. Hadn’t that very thought crossed her mind only moments after Toby kissed her?

  “My poor Greta, you never were the brightest one in the bunch. Greta the mouse, always trying to scurry out of my sight.”

  She sucked in a breath that ended in a sob. “You heard him just now. He apologized for his action. We’re friends, that’s all.”

  “Ja, he is a friendly fellow. This storm will keep him here for a few more days. I imagine he will make a pass at Betsy next. She’s younger and so much prettier.”

  Greta bit her lip. Betsy was prettier. Would Toby start paying attention to her?

  No, she didn’t believe that. Yet her uncle had put the idea in her head and it was hard to make it leave. “You’re wrong about Toby. He’s a kind man.”

  “And you are a weak woman. I pity you. I do.”

  Toby came back into the kitchen. “Your uncle is not in his room or in the bathroom. Oh, there you are, sir. How are you feeling this morning?”

  Morris set his empty glass on the counter and smiled at Greta. “I’m actually feeling much better. I’m glad we had this little talk. It reminds me of old times. You remember how I like my eggs and oatmeal, don’t you?”

  “Ja, Onkel. I remember.” He would sometimes throw it at her if she got it wrong. Greta swallowed hard against the bitterness rising from her stomach.

  “I wasn’t looking forward to coming here, but I believe I may enjoy my Christmas among the sheep.” He chuckled at his own joke and left the room.

  Toby moved to Greta’s side. “You look upset. Is something wrong?”

  She shook her head. He could never understand. “Nothing’s wrong. Things are the same as they always were.”

  “Nee, you’ve changed since you got home.”

  She started laughing. “I haven’t changed. This is the real me. I’m not the person you thought you knew. I’m Greta the mouse.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Something was definitely wrong.

  Toby took a step back. He didn’t care for the look of hopelessness on Greta’s face or the glimmer of tears in her eyes in spite of her harsh laughter. “Greta, look at me.”

  She wouldn’t. “Please go away, Toby. I have work to do.”

  “What did he say that upset you?”

  “What does it matter? He says and he does whatever he wants. He isn’t happy until everyone around him is unhappy. He has a knack for it and he’ll never change. I just have to endure.”

  “And what do you have a knack for, Greta Barkman?” Toby demanded.

  That caught her attention. She glanced at him and looked away. “Nothing.”

  “Well, you’re a poor liar. So what do you have a knack for?”

  “Cooking, cleaning, tending the garden, nursing sick sheep.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned back slightly. “Now we’re getting somewhere. What else do you have a knack for, Greta Barkman?”

  “Nothing, I told you that.”

  “So helping my sister was nothing special. Helping me talk about my grief was nothing special. Do you really not see your God-given gift? I don’t believe it, because you told me yourself that you wanted to go on to school so that you could help abused women.”

  “It’s a foolish dream. I don’t know why I ever thought of it.”

  He stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. She flinched but didn’t pull away. “Because you want to help people, Greta. You have a knack for it. If a woman you want to help had been in this kitchen this morning, what would you say to her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Again, I will mention you are not a good liar. You know exactly what you would tell her. You would tell her to keep her mouth shut and never mention to anyone the way she was treated.”

  She looked up aghast. “I would never say that.”

  He nodded and folded his arms again. “Now I hear the ring of truth in your words. If you wouldn’t tell her that, what would you tell her?”

  “I would tell her to find a heavy cast-iron skillet and bang that ugly old man over the head with it.”

  “Okay, that is not what I expected.”

  The tiniest smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I wouldn’t say that, either. Nor would I ever do it. I would tell her to remember that she is a worthwhile person, not a worthless person.”

  He patted his chest in relief. “Goot, I like that much better. What else?”

  She stood a little straighter. The hopelessness left her eyes. “I would tell her that God does not make junk. She is not junk. I would tell her God’s love is all encompassing and no matter what our lives bring, God’s love for us never wavers.”

  “She has to believe that in her heart or nothing will change.”

  Greta closed her eyes. “She has to believe that none of it is her fault. She has to believe she deserves goodness in her life.”

  Toby placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face so that she had to look at him. “And do you believe that?”

  *

  Greta gazed into Toby’s compassionate eyes and wondered if he had any idea how much comfort his words brought her. “I want to believe. I want to, but it’s hard to change the way I have thought for so long.”

  “I think I understand. So what will you do about it? Do you have a plan?”

  “I will pray.”

  “We pray for a good harvest, but we still have to hoe the ground and plant the seeds. You can’t scatter them willy-nilly and expect a good crop. It takes careful planning and a family working together to gather in enough for all. You don’t need to do this alone.”

  “You are right. I will have a meeting with my family today and we will come up with a plan. My uncle cannot revert to his old ways in this house. My family deserves goodness. Danki, for pointing out the obvious to me.”

  “It’s something I have a knack for.”

  She bit the corner of her lip. “He was in the pantry. He overheard our conversation. He knows you kissed me.”

  “And you don’t think he will keep that information to himself?”

&n
bsp; “Only if it suits him. If he can use it against me somehow, he will.”

  “Then I am doubly sorry I gave him ammunition, but I’m still not sorry that I kissed you.”

  “You kissed my sister!”

  Greta spun around to see Betsy in the doorway with an openmouthed look of delight on her face. Duncan stood at her side wagging his tail. Greta closed her eyes and groaned. “We have to stop having these conversations in the kitchen where everyone and their dog can overhear us.”

  Betsy pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table. She propped her elbows on the table and put her chin in her hands. “Duncan can keep a secret. So can I.”

  “There is no such thing as a secret in this house.” Greta added a spoonful of shortening to the flour in her bowl.

  Betsy grinned. “It’s true that most of them don’t stay a secret for long.”

  Toby took a seat across from Betsy. “I hope I can depend on you to keep this one. I don’t want your sister to be embarrassed.”

  She laid a finger alongside her cheek and tapped it. “I’ll think about it.”

  Greta saw the look of admiration in Betsy’s eyes. From where she was standing, she couldn’t see Toby’s face. Was he giving her one of his heart-fluttering smiles? Did he find her attractive?

  Of course he did. Betsy was as cute as a bug’s ear and could be utterly charming when she put her mind to it. Much more charming than Greta knew how to be.

  It was hard not to give weight to Morris’s words when they were exactly what Greta feared. That Toby, kindhearted, easy-going Toby, would be himself no matter which sister he was with, that their relationship really hadn’t been anything special.

  Greta turned away from the pair. “While you are thinking, set the table and then bring up some more blueberry jam from the cellar. We’re almost out.”

  Toby came to stand close beside Greta. “Breakfast can wait. I think now would be a good time to have your family meeting before Arles and Marianne are awake and Morris comes out of his room again.”

  She set her baking aside. She shouldn’t put it off. “Betsy, ask Lizzie and Carl to come to the quilting room upstairs. I’ll get Daadi and Naomi.”