An Amish Second Christmas

by Beth Wiseman

  After a few months, she grew tired of the worldly living and said she wanted to come back. I was a pushover and wanted to believe her words were true. I’m sure you can figure out the rest.

  Hours passed and he was still writing, spilling every thought that came to mind. Noah paused. He had never written a six-page letter to anyone. After a moment, he shoved the papers aside and pulled out a clean sheet. Focusing on Joy was safer, especially since opening his heart meant taking a risk he’d vowed never to take again. He started the new letter off with “Tell me about you,” then asked what her favorite cookie was to make and if she only made sweets.

  After a restless night, Noah dreaded the three-hour church service held in another district—another county—even more. Now seated in the back of the barn on the men’s side, he did his best to focus on the teaching. But halfway through the Scripture reading, his attention wandered over to the women’s section. Noah spotted Joy sitting beside Meredith a few rows up. He lowered his head and stared at the cement floor. He could avoid telling people he was a cabinetmaker, but if the subject arose during his parents’ conversations, they wouldn’t hesitate to tell someone about his shop. The muscles in the back of his neck tensed and he clamped one of his hands over the area to knead out the tension.

  Once the service ended, the members spread out. The women and children meandered out of the barn while the men gathered in small groups and talked quietly. Noah overheard someone say the bishop was in the hospital. The lingering melancholy mood made sense.

  A few minutes passed before he roamed away from the crowd. He stepped outside and caught a glimpse of Joy. She was too preoccupied with uncovering food dishes to notice him as he approached the serving line.

  “I hope you brought some cookies today,” he said.

  Joy looked up from placing a dish of macaroni and cheese on the table and smiled. “What are you doing here?” she said in a hoarse whisper.

  “Mei daed is the fill-in bishop today.” The tip of her nose looked red and irritated from constant wiping. “Did you catch a kalt from standing in the rain yesterday?”

  She glanced from side to side. “Nay.” Her face turned the same scarlet shade as her nose.

  Noah scanned the area. “I’m sorry. Should I nett have said anything?”

  She leaned closer. “People might think . . . they might wonder—”

  “If we’re courting?”

  Her eyes widened. “Nay. I was worried that someone might ask how we know each other and I don’t want you telling anyone about . . . me having a pen pal.” Her face turned a rosy shade.

  Inquisitive as to why she was embarrassed, Noah opened his mouth, then bit back his question, not wanting to discourage future letter exchange. “I don’t want that subject to kumm up either.” Noah smiled. “But since it has,” he said, lowering his voice, “I have a letter for you.”

  “With you?”

  He motioned toward the parked buggies. “It’s stuffed under the bench.” He hadn’t wanted to leave it lying around in his room. At the time, he didn’t know his father’s buggy needed repair and that he planned to use Noah’s today. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”

  “It’s almost time to eat. I should probably finish getting things ready.”

  “Is that your horse on the end?”

  “Jah, why?”

  “Look under your seat when you leave.” Noah turned when more women walked up to the table with plates stacked with sandwiches. He agreed with her—it was best no one find out how the two of them met.

  Standing at the bakery’s counter the following morning, Noah opened the pastry box and smiled. Inside, the decorated cookies looked identical to the roses in the quilt pattern. “You decorated these?”

  Joy nodded.

  “I suppose you could have drawn me a horse-and-buggy pattern.”

  “Maybe the buggy, but—”

  Noah glanced over his shoulder to see what had drawn her attention. A man crossed the room and approached Joy.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” the man said to Joy.

  She moved closer to the register where he stood. “Tell you what?”

  “Yesterday, Matthew said the bakery will probably close by the end of the year.”

  Joy wiped her hands along her apron. “Mei bruder-in-law shouldn’t have discussed business on Sunday.”

  “So it’s true.” Henry smiled. “After Christmas we won’t have anything standing in our way.”

  The door opened and Joy’s sister sashayed across the room. “Gut mariye.”

  “Sarah, if you don’t mind ringing up Noah, Henry and I need to talk outside.” Joy didn’t give her sister a chance to refuse. She bounded out from behind the counter and led the man out the door.

  Noah stared at the empty space.

  Sarah cleared her throat. “Will it be just the cookies today?”

  “Nay,” Noah said. “I think I’ll have a cup of kaffi.”

  “For here or to go?”

  “For here.” He motioned to the far table. “Do you mind if I sit next to the window?”

  “Sit wherever you like.” Sarah poured a mug of coffee then followed him to the table. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Noah nodded. He wished Joy’s back wasn’t facing him. He would much rather watch her facial expressions than the man with her.

  He hadn’t taken more than a few sips before the conversation outside ended and Henry walked away. Joy half-turned, glanced teary-eyed in the direction Henry had gone, then lifted her gaze to the sky.

  Noah pushed his chair back and grabbed the box of cookies. At the register, he strained his neck to look into the kitchen. Not seeing Sarah, he called out, “I’m leaving the money by the register.” He rushed out the door.

  Joy stood in the same spot, face tilted toward the sky, eyes closed.

  “Is everything all right?” Noah stepped closer.

  She wiped her hands over her face and smiled, but her lips trembled. “Mei parents opened this place.” Her gaze lifted above him. “I remember watching mei daed paint that sign . . . Nau the paint’s fading.”

  He peered at the Stolzfus Bakery sign attached to the building. “It wouldn’t take much to touch it up.”

  She tightened her lips into another strained smile. “I should get back inside.”

  Noah motioned to the box of cookies. “I’ll take two dozen tomorrow. Nay, make it three.”

  His mother had asked more than once that he stop by his great-aunt’s house. He would honor his mamm’s wishes and keep some of the calories off his waist. Although it would require he sit long enough to have a cup of her diluted tea and listen to her convoluted stories of the past. Or he could leave them at the motel. If his cabinets were going to be finished on time, he needed to concentrate on work.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Joy carried the can of white paint up the ladder. Today was the first day of favorable weather in the two weeks since she noticed the faded bakery sign. She dipped the brush into the gallon, then applied the paint with even strokes. It wasn’t long before her hands turned numb and her cheeks tingled from the cold wind. At least the sign would dry quickly. She worked her way from one side of the board to the other, painting each letter. Joy took a moment from her elevated position to scan the town. Thanksgiving wasn’t until next week and the town had already put up the Christmas decorations. The evergreen wreaths and garlands always looked nice on the lampposts. She spotted Henry outside the hardware store and lifted her hand holding the brush in a wave. He stared at her a moment, then shook his head and went back into the store.

  Joy dipped her brush into the can and continued painting.

  “Aren’t you afraid of falling?” Meredith’s voice startled her.

  The ladder shook. Joy glanced down at her friend. “You almost got showered in paint.”

  Meredith’s face cringed. “Sorry.”

  “I’ll be down in a minute.” Joy finished the y in Bakery and then eased down the ladder. “
What do you think?” She gazed up at her work.

  “Looks brand new.”

  “Nett from up there.” Joy shrugged. “The background is peeling in spots, but I didn’t have any red paint.”

  “You should probably wait until spring. They’re forecasting snow.”

  “I haven’t seen you in two weeks,” Joy said. “How is your little sister?”

  “She’s finally over the contagious stage. I don’t remember having so many spots when I had chicken pox.”

  “At least she won’t be quarantined at Thanksgiving.” Joy walked to the back of the building where she squatted at the water spigot with the paintbrush.

  “Does your painting the sign mean the bakery isn’t closing?”

  “It’s been mei prayer, but Matthew hasn’t changed his mind. I noticed the paint peeling a couple of weeks ago and I didn’t want it to look run-down when . . .” A puddle of white paint collected at Joy’s feet.

  “I know this is hard for you.”

  “Did I tell you Henry stopped by? He thought once the bakery closed there wouldn’t be anything standing in the way of us getting married.” Joy shook the brush. “He seemed pleased about the closing.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I could never marry someone who wouldn’t allow me to work outside the haus. I want to have some say over mei life.” Unlike Lois.

  “Ach, I missed a lot taking care of mei sister.”

  “I almost wrote you a letter to slip under your door, but I was afraid one of your bruders or sisters would find it and read it.”

  “Jah, and they probably would’ve thought it was funny to read it out loud too. What about the cabinetmaker—have you heard from him?”

  “I’ve gotten a letter every day.” Joy smiled. “Noah drops it off when he picks up his order.”

  “Hmm . . . Maybe I should ask which one created that smile, the cabinetmaker or Noah?”

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Joy headed to the front of the building.

  “Well?” Meredith followed.

  “Noah’s a nice guy.” She grasped the ladder leaning against the building and gently lowered it to the sidewalk. “He seems concerned about the bakery. I should clarify, I talk about the bakery and he listens.”

  “Hmm . . .”

  Joy said too much. She picked up one end of the ladder while Meredith grabbed the other.

  “He sounds like a sweet man.”

  “He certainly has a sweet tooth.” Joy chuckled. “I don’t know how he can eat so much.”

  “I’d say he’s a perfect match for someone who loves to bake.”

  Joy ignored her friend’s comment and continued toting the ladder to the storage area at the rear of the building. She wasn’t ready to admit how much she looked forward to seeing Noah each day.

  “I made a variety pack of some of mei Christmas favorites,” Joy said to Noah as she brought the box out of the kitchen.

  “That sounds interesting.” He opened the box at the counter and peeked inside. “Wow, these look really gut.”

  “I figured if this was the bakery’s last Christmas to be open, I wanted to make all mei mamm’s recipes. The ones she taught me over the years.”

  Noah motioned to an empty table. “Can you sit down and have a cup of kaffi with me?”

  “Sure.” They sat together most mornings for a few minutes when no other customers were in the shop. The Englischer at the table reading a newspaper had only wanted coffee and a bagel, and no one else was waiting to be served. She filled two mugs with coffee and followed Noah to their usual table next to the window.

  He opened the box and tipped it toward her.

  “Nay, danki.” She smiled. “I sampled enough of them when they were hot out of the oven.”

  He picked out a jelly-filled pastry ball coated with powdered sugar. “So these are all your favorites?”

  She nodded. “I call that one a sweet snowball surprise.”

  He took a bite and raspberry jam covered his lips. “I found the surprise,” he said, reaching for a napkin. He wiped his mouth. “Those could be addictive.”

  “I hope everyone at the Christmas sleigh ride likes them.”

  “You should probably worry more about having enough snow.”

  “Ach, don’t say that. We must have snow.”

  “The sleigh ride is really important to you, isn’t it?”

  “Jah.” She looked out the window and watched a few passing cars. “Mei daed proposed to mei mamm on a sleigh ride. They were the ones who organized our bakery hosting cookies and cocoa every year on Second Christmas.”

  “It sounds like a lot of fun.”

  A man and woman entered the shop and Joy left the table long enough to wait on them. The woman’s indecisiveness kept Joy at the counter longer than she wished. By the time the people paid for their purchases and left, Noah’s coffee cup was empty.

  “Can I refill your cup?”

  “Nay.” He stood and picked up the box. “All this talk about Christmas reminded me of how much work I have to do yet.” He frowned. “I probably won’t be in to buy cookies for a couple of weeks.”

  “I understand.” She smiled. “I was going to tell you that with Thanksgiving this week, the bakery will be closed on Thursday and Friday.” An odd sensation washed over her. She wasn’t sure if she would miss the daily letters he delivered from the cabinetmaker, or spending time with Noah. Over the past month and a half, she’d developed a fondness for his company, as well as for her new pen pal.

  “I’ll see you . . . hopefully soon.” He headed to the door.

  “Noah,” she called.

  He spun to face her. “Jah?”

  “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “You too.” Smiling, he touched the brim of his hat and proceeded outside.

  Throughout the afternoon, Joy tried to push aside her feelings, but by closing time, she was more confused than ever. She jotted a note to the cabinetmaker.

  . . . Have you ever been confused about your future? About life in general? I am. I’ve told you things that I haven’t shared with anyone else. You know about Henry, my parents dying in the fire, and my sister never showing up for work on time. What about you? Have you always known what you’ve wanted to do in a situation? Have you ever been confused about anything? I wish I understood why things happen. Like you receiving the box I mailed to my cousin and how we’ve become pen pals.

  Noah scored the piece of rose-colored glass following the petal-traced markings, then rinsed, dried, and covered the glass edges with copper foil. The intricate process required a great deal of patience and most of the day just to complete one rose. This portion of the project couldn’t be completed soon enough for him.

  He missed Joy and it had been only three days.

  Noah finished the rose section and set his tools down. He needed a break. The shading on the leaf took more focus than he had at the moment. He strolled out to the mailbox.

  Noah smiled and tore open the envelope on his way back to the shop. But he didn’t read past the opening greeting before a buggy entered the driveway.

  Ruby stopped the horse at the hitching post next to the shop and climbed out. “I was hoping you would be home today. I kumm a few times last week and didn’t find you in the shop.”

  “I had a job out of town.” He folded the letter and shoved it into the envelope.

  “Jah, that’s what Stella told me.”

  His younger sister hadn’t mentioned Ruby’s visit. Just as well. He didn’t wish to discuss Ruby with his sister.

  “I hear your cabinet business is really growing.”

  He nodded. “I need to get back to work nau.” He pushed open the door to the shop, but stopped in the threshold when she started to follow him.

  “I’m sort of a little surprised you didn’t get married,” she said, batting her lashes.

  Her syrupy voice, which he’d once found so attractive, now grated his nerves. It had taken him four years to get past his hurt. Marriage hadn
’t entered his mind. “It took me longer to get over you running out on our relationship.”

  “I’m sorry.” She lowered her gaze a moment, then looked up. “Maybe nau that I’m back we can try again.”

  Noah shook his head. “I prayed for months asking God to mend mei broken heart. I’m thankful He did.” Her sudden tears had no effect on him now. “I wish you well, Ruby. But I’m no longer in love with you.”

  She turned, took a few steps, and glanced over her shoulder. “I guess I deserve that. If you change your mind . . .”

  “I won’t.” Noah praised God as he entered the shop. If God hadn’t healed his heart when He had, Noah wouldn’t have formed a friendship with Joy. He sat in the rocking chair and read Joy’s latest letter.

  Have you ever been confused? Her words lingered until he left the shop and jogged over to the house. He rummaged through the drawer of his bedside table and found the long letter he had started a few days ago. The one where he’d poured out his heart about Ruby. As he added to his letter, he whispered a prayer that his heart would be safe.

  Joy read the cabinetmaker’s eight-page letter twice, both times stopping at the same spot.

  . . . I prayed that I could stop loving Ruby for months. Everyone told me she was wrong for me, but I didn’t want to believe she would choose pursuing her dreams over being with me. She didn’t share the same hopes of building a plain home and raising a family, and yet it still took me four years to let her go completely.

  Pray about what God wants for you, J. Once you discover His plans, you won’t be confused.