Thankful

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Thankful Page 8

by Shelley Shepard Gray


  Chin high, Christina walked ahead. Well, she’d managed to try Aden’s patience in under five minutes. Obviously, learning to ignore Aden was going to take some getting used to.

  As she glanced at him again, thinking about how handsome he looked, so tall and stalwart, she inwardly sighed.

  It seemed it was going to take a little bit more practice than she’d previously thought.

  By the time they’d walked to the buggy, the clouds were dark and thick overhead and it was snowing in earnest. After making sure Christina was inside the enclosure and settled, Aden unhitched Maisey.

  To make matters worse, the sun had already started to set, meaning it would be almost dark by the time they got home. Aden frowned, realizing their journey home was going to take far longer than he’d anticipated, and it was going to be far more difficult, too. He hated driving the buggy in the snow.

  And it looked like everyone on Main Street had been taken by surprise by the thick, sticky flakes. Cars were already sliding through intersections, their bright brake lights and irritable honking making Maisey even more tense.

  It was obvious that no maintenance crews had treated the roads. They were going to be pretty hazardous very soon.

  Well, that was just great. He had no blankets in the buggy and no flashlight, either.

  Feeling upset with himself, he glanced at Christina. She was only wearing her light cloak and her black boots with the thin soles. “Do you have a heavier coat or mittens with you?”

  “Nee.”

  “Perfect.” If their buggy got stuck or slid on the way home she would have a very difficult time walking anywhere.

  Even though he knew he was getting ahead of himself, he started spinning all kinds of worst-case scenarios in his head. Imagining Christina getting sick or hurt.

  “We should have left thirty minutes ago,” he muttered. “Next time, be ready when I get there.”

  “Aden, I was ready. You were the one who wanted pie.”

  “I was done with my slice of pie in less than ten minutes. Then I had to wait another ten while you went gossiping with Ruth.”

  “I told you she had a personal problem. And I wasn’t gone that long.”

  “And I’m telling you that we got out of the restaurant late and now we’re havin’ to drive this buggy out in the snow.” He frowned. “It’s really coming down now, too.”

  “The snow is not my doing, Aden.”

  “I didn’t say it was.”

  “You’re sure actin’ like I’m inconveniencing you.”

  “All I’m saying is that this is going to be a difficult drive home.”

  “We’ve done it before,” she pointed out.

  “But you were better prepared.”

  He carefully reined in Maisey as traffic stalled, and felt Christina look over at him with a critical eye. “Aden, you don’t look like you’re dressed any warmer than me.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Why? Because I’m a girl?”

  Because she was Christina. “Jah. And because I promised your parents I’d see you safely home.”

  Something flashed in her eyes that looked a lot like hurt. “So that is why you’re upset? Because you promised my parents that you’d look out for me?”

  “Well, jah.” With effort he refrained from rolling his eyes. Christina knew as well as he did that Joe and Martha depended on him to keep her safe from harm.

  He was able to glance at her just long enough to see her grit her teeth. “I’m only speaking the truth, Christy,” he said.

  “Well, just think, soon you won’t have to make this drive anymore. You’ll be living in town.”

  “Right now I’m feeling like it can’t happen soon enough. Heaven help your brothers.”

  “My brothers are too young to come and get me! I’ll simply be driving myself.”

  “You certainly won’t.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because it’s not safe.” At the moment, he didn’t even care that they were verbally sparring like a pair of teenagers. She was able to get under his skin like no other. And she certainly knew how to get a rise out of him.

  “Lots of women drive their own horse and buggy, Aden.” She paused, then glared at him again. “Or maybe I’ll even have someone else drive me around.”

  He hated these kinds of conversations, where they bickered like children. He was just about to tell her that, too.

  But then what she said finally registered. “Who would you get to drive you home?”

  “Another man. Maybe a beau.”

  Her comment startled him so much, he almost jerked on Maisey’s reins. “What in the world does that mean?”

  “About what you’d think.” She had the nerve to sound all airy about it, too.

  And that really gave him pause. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

  “I’m not yet. I mean, not exactly. But I’m hopeful that something is going to become of it.”

  “What do you mean by ‘of it’? What have you done? And where did you meet him?”

  “I don’t see how that is any of your business, Aden.”

  “Christina,” he bit out, wincing that his temper and worry had made him draw out her name to five syllables. But he couldn’t help himself. She was making him crazy.

  Well, imagining her with some mystery man was making him crazy.

  “Don’t you ‘Christina’ me. You know I’m right. You’re moving away, Aden. You should stop worrying about me.”

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  When they stopped again, he glanced at her. But this time he didn’t gaze at her eyes. Instead, he let his gaze drift to her temple, to the faint scar along her hairline. The scar she’d gotten when she’d been struggling to get out of the ice all those years ago and the jagged edge of the ice had cut her delicate skin.

  The scar had been deep enough that she probably had needed stitches, but her parents had decided to simply bandage it well. Now, whenever he looked at it, he remembered feeling helpless and scared to death.

  And guilty.

  “Are you staring at my scar again?” she snapped.

  He’d had no idea she’d ever noticed that he’d done that. “Nee.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Aden Reese, one day you are going to have to let that accident go. Me falling into the ice was not your fault.”

  “Of course it was. I was older. I was supposed to look out for you.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “You didn’t live with me. You were only my friend. No one asked you to watch over me.”

  He bit his tongue so he wouldn’t say something dumb and admit how even back then he’d felt something special about her. Instead, he looked ahead, looked at the snow falling heavily, at the number of cars slipping and sliding on the slushy roads, and at the sun setting in the midst of it all.

  “I think we need to go a back way home. I don’t trust these automobiles. And Maisey seems especially uneasy. I have a feeling she might get spooked.”

  And just like that, she became her usual sweet self again. “Of course. Whatever you think is best, Aden.”

  When he could, he veered the buggy right and directed Maisey down a far less congested road. That was good. The road was already a bit packed with snow, giving both Maisey’s hooves and the buggy’s wheels something easier to grip.

  But it also was taking them a bit off their direct route. “We’re going to be really late now. Maybe even an hour late.”

  “It will be okay.”

  “I don’t want your parents to worry about you.”

  “My parents know I’m with you. And Aden, if they worry, they’re going to worry about both of us,” she said gently.

  He knew what she meant. But he also knew that his role in the house was to take care of her. His muscles tensed as the wind picked up fifteen minutes later and the horse started having more difficulty pulling the buggy. “If it gets worse
we might have to let Maisey loose and then walk home.”

  “I figured that.”

  After another ten minutes, he gave up the fight. “I don’t want to hurt her. Will you be all right if we walk?”

  “I’ll be fine, Aden.” Then, to his surprise, she reached over and gripped his hand. “I know you’re worried about me getting hurt or sick, but you shouldn’t.”

  “Of course I’m going to worry.”

  “Aden, listen to me. I’m not a little girl anymore,” she said softly. “When you grew up, I did, too. Please stop thinking of me like I am a fragile, delicate child. I’m a grown woman.”

  She wasn’t fragile; she was special. He knew the difference. But he also realized that she had a point. She was a grown woman—which was exactly why he was trying to move out of her house. “I know you’re not a child. And I know you’re not all that delicate. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Then it won’t,” she whispered. “We’ll get through this together.”

  He hoped that was the case as he finally gave in to the reality of their situation, parked the buggy well off to the side of the road, and unhitched Maisey. Maisey was a smart horse and knew all the back roads around the farm better than any of them did. He knew she would make her way home across the fields in probably half the time that it would take him and Christina.

  After making sure Christina was as bundled as possible, he steeled himself. “Let’s go. With the Lord’s help we should get back home within the hour.”

  “An hour’s walk is nothing. A piece of cake,” she joked.

  Then just as he was searching for the right words to try to alleviate her worries, she turned and started walking at a brisk pace. Leading the way.

  And for the first time in recent memory, he was content to follow.

  chapter nine

  Oh, but those first few hours with James had been a delight! An awkward, nerve-racking, wonderful delight!

  Bernie had stayed with them for a full two hours, helping Judith and Ben change James’s diaper, feeding him a bottle, and setting him down for a nap.

  Judith was amazed by the social worker’s ability to offer a helping hand while blending into the background. She’d only offered suggestions to Judith and Ben when they needed it—like when they had looked at her with wide, scared eyes when James had started crying loudly and they had been sure they’d done something terribly wrong.

  “Babies cry because they can’t talk,” she said in her calm, easy way. “All you have to do is figure out what they want.”

  “But I don’t know what he wants,” Judith had whined.

  “If he’s just had a bottle, there’s a good chance he needs to burp,” Bernie said, then proceeded to show her what to do. And sure enough, after a few good pats, the baby had burped and then had promptly fallen asleep. As Bernie demonstrated, Judith chided herself—of course she knew that babies needed to be burped! She was just so nervous she had forgotten!

  Ben had been mighty impressed, though. “Bernie, that’s amazing.”

  “No, that’s what babies do,” she teased.

  Then, just as Judith was starting to think that she and Ben and James needed a little time alone, Bernie stood up.

  “I need to be on my way now, but I’ll be sure to stop over again tomorrow.”

  “You don’t mind?” Judith asked.

  “Of course not! Seeing James happy here is going to be the best part of my day. Don’t forget, you can call me tonight if you need something. But I have a feeling you three are going to do just fine.”

  “Thank you, Bernie. Thank you for trusting us with James,” Judith said.

  Bernie hugged her tight. “I never had any doubt you two would be just what this little guy needed,” she said before walking out the door.

  Ben peeked out the front window and chuckled. “She’s already on her cell phone again. She’s sure a busy lady.”

  “She’s a wonderful-gut lady,” Judith said as she gazed at James. “Ben, at last we’re alone with our little baby.”

  “Our foster baby,” Ben gently corrected.

  “Jah. Of course I meant that.”

  For the next few hours, she and Ben hadn’t done a single thing other than stare at James while he slept. The sight of the sweet baby in the crib in the corner of their bedroom had been a dream of hers for so long that enjoying the reality was a time too sweet to pass up.

  Now, though, it was a different story. Judith’s mother had just arrived, along with Gretta, Clara and Tim, and even Caleb and Rebecca. Only her father and Joshua were missing, since they were needed at the store.

  And to Judith’s dismay they were all staring at little James like he was a curiosity.

  “I do wish all of you would stop looking at James like he’s any different from us. Why don’t all of you go sit down and have a cup of kaffi while I hold him?” It was amazing how her motherly instincts had come out full force. In just a few hours, no less!

  “Just because I was surprised that his skin was dark doesn’t mean I don’t think he’s adorable, Judith,” her mother chided. “You can’t fault me for being surprised.”

  Though they were reacting just as she had, Judith felt more than a bit defensive. “Bernie said the only thing foster babies need is love and to be cared for. Ben and I can do that as well as anyone.”

  Her mother frowned. “We didn’t say you couldn’t, Judith.”

  Her brother Caleb had the audacity to roll his eyes. “Once again, you are making something out of nothing, Judith. Don’t be so sensitive.” And then he had the nerve to hold out his hands and say, “Now, pass me that baby. Rebecca and I want to hold him.”

  To her shame, she hugged James a little bit tighter. “He might not want you holding him. He’s nervous around strangers.”

  “How do you know that?” Caleb asked. “You just met him yourself.”

  “We’ve bonded already. He likes me.”

  “If he doesn’t like me, I’ll give him back,” Caleb said patiently. When she made no move to hand him the baby he glared, adding, “And don’t you start telling me how we’re not old enough to hold him. Rebecca’s going to have our baby in just a few months’ time.”

  “You can’t fault his reasoning, Judith,” Ben murmured. “Let Caleb hold James. You can’t hold him all day and night, you know.”

  “I know.” Carefully, she at last passed over James. “Don’t forget about his head!”

  Caleb said nothing, only raised his brows, then cuddled the baby closer and sat back down next to Rebecca. Within seconds, they were both cooing at James and he was looking back at them with a contented expression.

  Judith wasn’t sure if she was relieved that James was doing so well with them . . . or just a teeny bit jealous.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Ben murmured.

  “I just don’t want to do anything wrong.”

  After gazing at her for a long minute, Ben said, “Would you men mind helping me look at one of the wheels on our buggy? It felt a little loose yesterday.”

  Looking relieved Tim and Caleb gathered their coats and tromped outside into the snow. Before leaving the room, Caleb passed James to their mother.

  When it was only the women Gretta started giggling.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You are, Judith,” Rebecca teased. “At the moment, I’m almost afraid of ya.”

  “I’m not that bad. . . .”

  “Yes you are!” Gretta exclaimed. “My dear sister, you are a force to be reckoned with, for sure and for certain! I knew you would be a fierce mother hen, but you are even tougher than I thought you’d be.”

  Judith felt her cheeks heat. “Am I that bad?”

  Clara looked at Rebecca, then said, “In a word? Yes.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just nervous.”

  “You wouldn’t be my Judith if you weren’t nervous.” Her mother laughed. “Now, please sit down and relax, dear. We want to hear all about what your social worker
said.”

  She sat on the edge of the couch. “All right. But, um, James might need his diaper changed. Or he might get hungry. . . .”

  “If he does, we’ll take care of it. Now please, dear, relax. Don’t you see? Everything is okay.”

  In a burst of surprise, Judith realized her mother was right. Everything was okay. She needed to stop worrying and planning and fretting and take time to enjoy the moment. God was with them, and so was Ben and her family. And Bernie was only a phone call away. Why, there was practically a whole army of helping hands and hearts.

  All she had to do was trust them. And maybe learn to trust herself a little bit, too.

  “Well, first of all, Bernie said that James was born just a few days before Christmas. He’s a Christmas baby!”

  “A true miracle, to be sure,” her mother murmured.

  With a sigh, Judith finally relaxed and started chatting, letting all her enthusiasm show and all her worries fade to the wayside.

  Everything was just fine. Why, it was obvious that she and James were meant to be together. Forever.

  Jana was so glad Pippa had convinced her to take most of the afternoon and evening off. “I live just two blocks away,” Pippa had reminded her. “If the snow gets worse, I’ll simply close early and walk home.”

  “Okay. But if something goes wrong—”

  “It won’t.”

  “Don’t forget, I’m just a phone call away if you need anything.”

  “I remember that. But I won’t be calling you. I’ll be fine.” Playfully shaking a finger at her, Pippa said, “You better not call me, either.”

  “I’ll try not to.” Jana knew that wasn’t the answer Pippa had wanted, but it was the best she could do. It was becoming apparent that it was going to take a bit of practice to learn how to relax.

  For the past hour she’d attempted to read the same two pages of a novel, halfheartedly tried to organize the linen closet, and stared at the inside of a near-empty refrigerator. Annoyed with herself, she slipped on boots, mittens, and her cozy wool coat.

  There was nothing like a walk in the snow to lift her spirits. And there was nowhere she’d rather walk to than the Grabers’ store. She loved that place. It was the closest thing to an emporium in the area, and she never failed to find something interesting.

 

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