Christmas in Sugarcreek

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  But Lilly was still worried about not being good enough “Mom . . .” she fretted, “maybe he hoped I’d become one?”

  Her mother shook her head. “He hoped you’d love him. That’s what he wanted from you, dear.”

  Lilly stifled a sigh. “He knows I love him. But that’s not the point.”

  “Gifts aren’t the point of Christmas, either, dear.”

  “I still want to give him something special.” She bit her lip as she watched her mother put two packages of breakfast sausage in the cart, followed by a chicken. “Maybe I should get him a puppy?”

  “I don’t know if Midnight will care for that.”

  Thinking about her sleek black cat, who Robert had bought for her on their first real date, she nodded. “Midnight would either hide under the couch or hiss at the puppy.”

  “I’d stay away from pets.”

  “What did you and dad used to give each other when you first got married?”

  A dreamy expression filled her mom’s face, making her look even younger than usual. “All kinds of things. Candy. Clothes. One year your father gave me mixing bowls and spoons.”

  Mixing bowls and spoons sounded like horrible presents. “What was Dad thinking?”

  Her mother laughed. “It was pretty romantic, if you want to know the truth. I used to make him cookies every Friday afternoon. He gave me the bowl so I’d never stop.”

  Lilly was flabbergasted. Who knew her father had a romantic streak? Who knew that her mother had been baking sugar cookies all this time for their father? “Wow.”

  As they walked toward to the front of the store, her mother tossed a loaf of bread in the cart, and finally picked up a poinsettia. “Don’t worry, Lilly. You and Robert will begin your own traditions. And you’ll know that whatever you decide to make or buy for him will the perfect thing.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so,” her mother corrected as she pushed the cart to the open lane. “Now, let’s get out of here before Carrie wakes up. She’s been asleep for twenty minutes. We know our time is short.”

  Lilly laughed, then felt someone’s gaze on her from across the way.

  And saw Robert’s cousin Abe and his wife, Mary. Both were staring at her, their gazes cool.

  She stopped and looked at them, half hoping they would forget their anger about Robert marrying her and walk over and greet her kindly.

  But instead of looking like they were going to forgive her anytime soon, Abe merely pulled out his watch, glanced at the time, then turned his back to her.

  Making sure she had no doubt as to how they felt about her, and perhaps always would.

  Chapter Nine

  Seven Days Until Christmas

  It wasn’t the Amish way to put up Christmas decorations. Or a tree. Or sparkling lights. Not even a nativity.

  Ben was fine with that. He’d never needed the English extravaganza that seemed to follow their need to celebrate a holiday until it was fairly beaten down and became tiresome.

  But he couldn’t get over just how quiet and depressing his home was.

  Looking around, smelling the dust and the disuse and the memories— He shook his head. No, this didn’t seem like a home at all. Just a house.

  Here it was too quiet and too drab; there was no happiness. Once again, he was glad it was on the market and had already had a few showings. The day he found out it was sold would be a good one, for sure.

  As he walked through the halls, trying to think of something to do until it was time to go to the Graber’s store, Ben couldn’t help but reflect on how different his house felt from the Graber family’s home.

  On his way home the night before, he kept thinking about what a happy place Judith had come from. He’d been reluctant to leave. Not just because he’d been next to Judith, but because he’d been surrounded by happiness.

  Happiness was certainly something that couldn’t be taken for granted.

  At least not for him.

  Though it was idiotic, he’d even walked into his house last night and imagined it being a real home. Imagined what it would be like to walk in the door with Judith by his side.

  Or even better, he let himself daydream about walking into the house after a day out in the fields and seeing her pretty face . . . smiling, because she was waiting for him.

  He’d be mortified if she’d ever guessed the things he was thinking. No doubt she’d be scared. Without a doubt, she’d take off running the next time she saw him walking her way.

  Now, though, he could only look forward to seeing her for a few more days until Christmas. Then Mr. Graber was going to have more time to work, Judith’s brother Joshua might finally be settled in his new home, the crowds would be gone, and they’d have no need for his help anymore.

  Then, as soon as he got an offer on the house, he’d move on.

  Looking at the clock above the kitchen sink, he frowned. Seven. He had hours before it was time to go to work. Since he was dressed and had eaten an hour earlier, he walked to his stack of library books and pulled out a new mystery.

  Perhaps he could get halfway through it this morning. If he did, he’d have a reason to go back to the library after work.

  Anything would be better than sitting here alone with only memories for company. Again.

  He’d waited until a quarter after nine to walk to the store. Along the way he stopped and listened to a quartet of Englischer carolers singing about white Christmases, and even helped himself to a mug of hot cider and a slice of warm gingerbread, fresh out of the oven at the Sugarcreek Inn.

  Then, promptly at five minutes to ten, he entered the front of the shop.

  “Ben, you are right on time!” Mr. Graber said from his position behind the cash register. Still not looking up, he added, “We are glad to see you, too. Your hands are sorely needed. I don’t know when we’ve ever been so busy.”

  “I thought merchants were happy about busy stores,” Ben teased as he strode forward.

  “Oh, for sure that is a fact. It’s just that a man can only do so much with two hands, you know?”

  “Yes, Mr. Graber. I know.” After looking briefly at Judith, who was back behind the bakery case helping a pair of women pick out iced Christmas cutouts, Ben approached the counter. “Luckily, I have two hands to offer and I’m thankful for the work. What would you like me to do today?”

  “There’s much I’d like you to do, but I think all you’re going to have time to do is wait on customers.”

  Ben was about to nod and venture closer to a group of Englischers looking at pine candles when Mr. Graber spoke again. “However, son, if you do have time, there’s a slew of boxes in the back that need to be unpacked. Any chance you could do that after the customers leave?”

  “Of course.” Again, he stepped away, eager to be of use.

  Mr. Graber spoke again. “If you are here late . . . there are lots of boxes that need to be broken down and carried to the Dumpsters. And shelves to be stocked. And deliveries to be made as well.” Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “How late can you stay?”

  With effort, Ben kept a straight face. Mr. Graber’s crafty manner amused him. “As long as you need me.”

  “Truly?” His eyes lit up.

  Ben nodded. After all, there was nothing else for him to do. Besides go to the library.

  “Could you stay an hour or two after hours and help Judith restock?”

  “Until eight o’clock or so?”

  “Jah. I’d come back later and work but had promised Judith’s mamm that I’d take her to the Wal-Mart tonight. We hired a driver so we could get a few things for Maggie and Toby.”

  “I don’t mind staying, Mr. Graber. I’ll stay here with Judith and restock as much as I can.” Then, remembering how fearful he’d been when he thought of her being alone on the dark, snowy streets of Sugarcreek, he added firmly, “And then I will take her home as well.”

  Satisfaction glowed in Mr. Graber’s eyes as he continued to make plans. “Ben, if you do that
, you might as well stay with us for dinner.”

  “Danke.”

  “Our Maggie will be glad to see you. All she talked about while she ate her oatmeal this morning was her new friend Ben. You know, after supper, it is mighty late. Too late to be out and about.” He snapped his fingers. “I know! Why don’t you just plan on sleeping in Joshua’s old room?” He grinned, obviously pleased with his newest suggestion.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t do that.”

  “Nee? Where else would you like to sleep in our home?” He frowned. “I’m afraid we don’t have the basement furnished at this time . . .”

  “Nee, it’s not that. I just couldn’t impose on your hospitality like that.”

  “You wouldn’t be imposing, son. It’s just a matter of making things easier on all of us.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand . . .”

  “Ben, it’s like this,” Mr. Graber said almost too carefully, as if he were speaking to a child of limited mental capacity. “We are used to a busy house. Mrs. Graber and I like having all the bedrooms filled. Plus, I can tell you that it would make my frau verra pleased to fuss over you. To make sure you’re warm and settled.”

  No. Ben knew he wasn’t going to be needing those things. . .

  In a rush, Mr. Graber continued. Just as if he was stating facts instead of his opinions. “And then, of course, we’re going to be worried about you gettin’ on home late at night.”

  “I’ll be fine—”

  “And, well, you know, since it is Christmas, we’re going to have to do the whole thing again tomorrow.” Deceptively innocent sounding, Mr. Graber sighed. “All things considered, it would simply be easiest on all of us if you just stayed the night. If you only dropped off our Judith, you’d cause us grief to no end.”

  Ben felt flummoxed. How did one respond to an offer like this? He had so few experiences of such generosity to fall back on. “I don’t want to cause you any grief,” he muttered.

  “I know you don’t.” As Judith’s voice carried over the store, the older man glanced toward her. Then, almost wistfully, he added, “We like ya, Ben. We like you verra much. You seem to fit in just fine with our family.”

  Well, what could he say to that? “If you would like me to stay late here, of course I will. I will also be grateful for the meal and the bed.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Ben ached to take them back. How pitiful did he sound? Clearing his throat, he added a bit more forcefully, “I mean . . . I could make it work. If you don’t think Judith would mind?”

  “Judith won’t mind at all.”

  “I won’t mind what?” Judith asked from just a few mere feet away. A line formed between her brows as she looked from her father to Ben and then back to her daed again.

  Ben almost groaned aloud. Of course she would come here right at this moment, hearing her father offer him a meal and a bed. Just as if he had nowhere better to be.

  However, instead of appearing awkward, Mr. Graber looked pleased as punch. “Judith, dear. I was suggesting to Ben that maybe he could spend the night at our house when he drops you off.”

  “He doesn’t need to drop me off.”

  “Sure he does. ’Cause he’s going to be working late with you this evening.”

  A pinched look appeared in between her brows. “How late?”

  “Just until eight or so.”

  Right there and then, pure fire entered Judith’s eyes. If Ben hadn’t been so transfixed, he would have been wary. She looked mad enough to spit nails.

  “You didn’t ask me about working late tonight, Daed.”

  “I’m telling you now, daughter. What more do you want?”

  Mr. Graber looked so clueless, and Judith so hurt, Ben ached to say something, anything, to make things right. But what could he say? This wasn’t his business, and this wasn’t his family. Really he was only a paid employee, and a temporary one at that.

  For a brief moment, Ben thought Judith was going to challenge her father. Her lips pursed and she drew a breath. Ben paused, half hoping she would protest, just so he could see what she was like when she was angry. But then, looking around at the many customers milling around, she slumped. “Where will Ben sleep?” she asked softly.

  Which, of course, hurt him more than any harsh words of condemnation. She looked resigned to her fate. No matter what.

  So though he’d been determined not to get involved, he did. “You know, I surely don’t have to do anything but drop off Judith—”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “We want you to be with us,” Mr. Graber said firmly. Interrupting Judith’s protest. Turning to his daughter, his voice had a new edge to it, one that surely brooked no argument. “Ben will be sleeping tonight in Joshua’s old room. Daughter, you surely don’t have a problem with this, do you? Surely you haven’t forgotten how to be hospitable?”

  Twin flags of red colored her cheeks. “Of course not.”

  And Ben noticed that she wasn’t looking at him. He’d never felt like anyone’s burden. But at the moment he definitely did.

  But more than that, he refused to be the source of discomfort or pain for the woman he so admired. “You know what? It might be better if I just went home to my own place—”

  “Nonsense. Right, Judith?”

  “Right. We’d be happy to have you stay.”

  Did it matter if her words sounded wooden and forced?

  “Well, now. I’m verra grateful that is all settled.” Mr. Graber clapped his hands together. “All right, then. Now that our plans are made, I’m going to leave things in your four capable hands while I go back to the office and try to dig myself out from under a mountain of paperwork. After that, I’m going to the farm. Let me know if you need anything.”

  He turned before either of them could say a word.

  Though the store was filled with customers in sweaters and coats, all chattering with each other, the space between him and Judith felt as if it was their own world. He wasn’t aware of anyone else but her.

  This could have been the setting for things that dreams are made of, but unfortunately all he felt was her extreme disapproval. Felt it all the way to his toes. He couldn’t say he blamed her, either.

  “Well, that was awkward,” he said. “I’m sorry about all of this. I promise, I didn’t invite myself to your home.”

  “Oh, Ben, I know you didn’t.”

  Though he should have been assured, he wasn’t. There was a note of sadness in her voice that he couldn’t ignore. “Judith, what would you like me to do to get out of it? Say I can’t work late?”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Of course I would. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. The last thing I want is to force my company on you.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to be with you, or to have you at our house, it’s that my father never thinks to ask me. Sometimes I just get so sick and tired of always doing what’s expected of me.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?” Those blue eyes of hers turned translucent, and he wasn’t sure whether they were that way from her emotion or because tears were threatening to fall.

  Just as he was about to admit that he’d had lots of experience of living without choices . . . that he’d acted up when he was young because he’d felt like he had no other outlet . . . they were interrupted by a customer.

  “Excuse me?” a man in a bright blue parka called out. “Excuse me, I need some help over here. Hello?”

  “We’d best get to work,” Judith muttered.

  “Indeed. But maybe we can talk more another time?”

  “Jah. Sure . . .”

  Taking advantage of the momentary burst of silence, a heavyset woman in a red sweatshirt from the other side of the store stepped up importantly. “I need help getting a trunk down,” she said. “Can you help me?”

  “Of course. I’ll be glad to,” Ben replied. He was sad to leave the discussion but thankful to have something else to do besides wish thing
s were different between Judith and himself.

  Or, if he was honest, wish that he was different. He did wish he hadn’t lived the last ten years of his life pushing everything and everyone away. And wished Judith didn’t look at him and remember his temper. Or the way he’d always gotten into trouble.

  He shook his head as if to clear it. Those longings caught him off guard. He’d been sure he’d given up all desire for the things he couldn’t have years ago.

  Chapter Ten

  Six Days Until Christmas

  “I was so happy to see you this morning, Caleb,” Mrs. Miller said as she bustled around the kitchen and sliced him a large square of warm applesauce cake. “Seeing you sitting here in my kitchen always brightens my day.”

  Eating Mrs. Miller’s baked goods always brightened his day, Caleb reflected. A longtime innkeeper, she was truly one of the best bakers in Sugarcreek.

  As she brought him the warm treat, now liberally topped with a dollop of fresh whipped cream, he looked up at her fondly. “You didn’t know I was comin’? You just happened to be baking my favorite cake this morning?”

  She squeezed his shoulder with a laugh. “Caleb Graber, don’t you think I know you well by now? You’ve never had a favorite treat! You love them all.”

  Sure enough, as he took the first bite, Caleb knew she spoke the truth. He dearly loved everything that came from Mrs. Miller’s kitchen. Into everything she incorporated a liberal dose of love and care. If he was honest, he’d say he liked being in the kitchen, too. She collected snowmen—figurines and images—and in December, it seemed everything in the room was or displayed a smiling white snowman. “This is wonderful, Mrs. Miller.”

  “You are a dear to say such sweet things. I’ll send some home with you for your parents.”

  “Danke, but I’m afraid I can’t take any today.”

  “Ah, yes. You’re meeting Rebecca here, aren’t you?”

  “Jah.” He took another bite quickly so he wouldn’t be tempted to ask more about Rebecca. It wouldn’t be right to ask for private information about the girl he liked so much. He didn’t know much about relationships, but even he knew it was only right to wait for her to tell him her secrets.