Amish Christmas Twins

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Amish Christmas Twins Page 16

by Patricia Davids


  When she reached home an hour before suppertime, the girls charged through the door ahead of her. John was waiting in the living room with his paper open. He quickly folded it shut and held his arms wide. “My schnickelfritz are home. Kumma, tell me about your day.”

  They crawled into his lap and began chattering about the store and how baby Henry threw up on his mamm’s shoe. Willa was so grateful for his continued friendship with the girls that she couldn’t speak until she swallowed the lump in her throat. “You have a goot friend in John, girls.”

  “I know.” Lucy nodded vigorously, kissed his cheek and snuggled against his chest. Willa turned away and went down the hall because that was exactly what she wanted to do, too.

  “Have you forgotten our moment together? I have not,” John called after her.

  She paused with her hand on the doorknob of her room and sighed. “Try harder.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  John had no idea how to break through the wall of Willa’s reserve except to pound away at it as he did with the hardest steel in his shop. Brute force wasn’t the answer. Metal had to be tempered, heated to the melting point and worked before it grew too weak or too hard again. He already knew he had to melt Willa’s resistance, and her daughters were the fire he would use.

  “Can the girls stay home with me today?” he asked at breakfast two days later. Willa had those dark circles under her eyes again. She wasn’t sleeping well. Part of him was glad and part of him hated to be the cause of her discomfort.

  “That will be fine. I think they are getting bored with playing behind the counter. Even baby Henry is losing his luster.”

  “Where women are concerned, it happens to all men,” he said sadly. “Some of us sooner than others.”

  He was rewarded with a hint of a smile. “Some men never had much luster to begin with.”

  “True. When do you have an appointment with the midwife?”

  “Next Tuesday.”

  “Will you have trouble getting off work to go?”

  “Nee, for Rebecca has said she will cover for me.”

  “Have you gained enough weight to make the midwife happy, or should I put a brick in your pocket?”

  That brought out a real smile. “One brick or two? I have the feeling she will scold me if I gain too much.”

  “One brick, then, or another jar of peaches?”

  She met his gaze for the first time in days. “I do have a craving for peaches.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll loan you the money to buy some at the gift shop. I don’t want the midwife to think I’m starving you.”

  He heard her laughter behind him as he walked out the door to hitch up her horse, feeling exceedingly pleased with himself. They might not be back to where they were before the kiss, but this was a start.

  * * *

  When the second hymn finally came to an end on Sunday, Willa entered the house of Isaac and Anna Bowman and took the seat reserved for her near the minister’s bench. She sat with her head bowed on this most solemn occasion. She was vowing to reject the world, accept Jesus as her Lord and live a humble life in a community governed by God’s word.

  The ministers and the bishop entered the room from behind her. For the next several hours Willa listened to the sermons delivered first by the ministers and then by the bishop. She tried to absorb the meaning into herself. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. This day she felt the warmth of God’s presence. She gave thanks for the goodness He had bestowed upon her and begged His forgiveness for all her doubts.

  The bishop finally ended his sermon and turned to Willa. “The solemn vow you make today is not made to me. It is not made to any of the congregation here with us today, for we are only witnesses.”

  He raised his hand and pointed to the ceiling. “This vow you make unto God Himself. Let there be no misunderstanding. Let no doubt remain in your heart.”

  The deacon came forward with a pail of water and a cup. The bishop looked at Willa. “Is it your desire to become a member of the body of Christ?”

  “It is my heart’s desire,” she answered firmly.

  The bishop’s wife came forward and untied the ribbons of her kapp. The bishop then laid his hand on Willa’s head. “Upon your faith, which you have confessed before God and these witnesses, you are baptized in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

  The bishop cupped his hands over Willa’s head. The deacon then poured the water into the bishop’s hands. It trickled through his fingers and over Willa’s hair and face.

  The bishop then extended his hand to her. “In the name of the Lord and the Church, I extend to you the hand of fellowship. Rise up and be ye a faithful member of our church.”

  Willa stood. The bishop gave her hand to his wife, who greeted her with a Holy Kiss upon her cheek.

  Facing the congregation, Bishop Beachy said, “It is the duty of everyone present to aid this new member as we would each other. We must be ever watchful that none of us strays from the path God has set before us. All must conform to the Ordnung of this church without question. Though these rules are sometimes difficult, they are made for the good of the many and not of the one. Obey them and never depart from them.”

  Willa glanced at John and saw tears upon his face as he smiled with joy for her.

  On their way home late that afternoon, Willa heard Vera speak softly to John. “She is baptized. I’ve held my breath long enough. I’m not getting any younger.”

  * * *

  The following afternoon, John came in from finishing his chores to find his mother spooning cookie dough onto a baking sheet and singing a Christmas carol. Slightly off-key but with enthusiasm. The twins sat on the kitchen floor banging on pans with wooden spoons and occasionally joining in with a word or two. Loudly and very off-key.

  “O Holy Night” had never sounded quite so bad. John stood in the doorway to the kitchen and stared at his mother in amazement. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard her voice raised in song outside of church services or the last time she had looked so happy.

  She caught sight of him and fell silent. Her smile faded. When she stopped singing, the girls stopped banging. She pushed the last spoonful of dough onto the sheet. “I thought you were out in your workshop.”

  “I just came in to see if there was any coffee left from supper.”

  “Johnjohn, we go carol.”

  “That’s right. We are going caroling tonight.”

  The cellar door opened, and Willa came up with several quart jars of fruit in her hands. “Are these the ones you wanted?”

  His mother took the jars from her. “They are. There isn’t any kaffi left, but I’m sure Willa can fix some. I wouldn’t mind having a cup myself.”

  “I would be happy to make some,” Willa said quietly, keeping her eyes averted.

  “Don’t go to any trouble on my account.” He wished she would look at him more often.

  “Sing more, Mammi Miller,” Lucy said, banging her pot.

  “That’s all the singing for now. Put your pots away,” his mother said.

  Megan frowned. “Aw, do we have to?”

  “Yes, you have to.” Willa held out her hand for the spoon.

  He had certainly put a damper on their impromptu concert. His first thought was to leave and let them resume their fun, but something held him in place. He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb. “I would like to hear more singing, Mammi Miller.”

  His mother folded her arms over her chest, leaving smears of flour on her sleeves. “You may choose the next song as long as you join in.”

  If she expected him to back out, he decided to disappoint her. She knew he didn’t like to sing. “I will if Willa will. How’s that for a tongue twister?”

  He caught a h
int of a smile before Willa subdued it. “Willa will if John joins in willingly. Say that three times fast.”

  “I think I’ll just sing.” He drew a deep breath and began, “Joy to the world, the Lord is come.” His voice was often compared to a bullfrog, but he was going caroling tonight no matter what.

  He motioned to Willa and his mother, and they joined in. The twins started banging, and by the second verse they were adding a stream of joys to the lyrics. He glanced at Willa and found she was smiling at him. Today it reached all the way to her eyes. They sparkled with amusement, and it made him feel that he was making headway. Painfully slow headway, but they were moving in the right direction. Toward each other.

  Two hours later, John waited beside Samuel’s sleigh and tried unsuccessfully to curb his excitement. He was almost as giddy as Megan and Lucy. A sleigh ride with Willa at his side was his idea of the perfect winter evening, especially since he didn’t have to drive. Lucy was the first one out of the house. She quickly claimed her spot in the front seat beside Samuel. Megan came out next and scrambled up beside her sister. He’d never seen them so delighted.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to sit in back with your mother?” John asked, praying they would say no.

  Samuel winked at John as he covered the pair with one of the lap robes he held. “They will have a better view up here, and it won’t be so crowded in the back seat. I remember what it was like to go caroling before I became an old married fellow.”

  John was thankful the darkness hid the blush he knew was staining his cheeks red as he climbed in the back seat. He would owe Samuel a favor for arranging this. “Danki.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Rebecca came out followed by John’s mother and Willa. Rebecca settled on the front seat with the twins between her and her husband. Willa stepped aside to let Vera get in beside John.

  “I’m afraid I can’t tolerate sitting in the middle,” his mother said without a hint of shame. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Nee, of course not.” Willa took John’s hand as he helped her in. He gave her gloved fingers a quick squeeze and saw her smile before she looked down.

  Samuel handed several quilts to John. His mother got in but shifted uncomfortably. “Can you scoot over a little more, Willa? I’m practically hanging out the side.”

  John wanted to kiss his mother’s cheek. He heard Samuel’s laugh quickly change into a cough. John lifted his arm and placed it over Willa’s shoulders as she moved closer. “Don’t worry. I will keep you warm,” he said in a low voice as he spread the robe over her.

  Willa remained stiff as a metal rod beside him. As much as he wanted to pull her closer, he knew it would only make her more uncomfortable. It took time for heat to bend steel, and he was becoming a patient man.

  “Is everyone ready?” Samuel asked. Five confirmations rang out. Samuel slapped the lines and the big horse took off down the snow-covered lane. Sleigh bells jingled merrily in time with the horse’s footfalls. The sleigh runners hissed along over the snow as big flakes continued to float down. They stuck to the hats of the men, turning their brims white before long. Megan and Lucy tried to catch snowflakes on their tongues between giggles.

  John leaned down to see Willa’s face. “Are you warm enough?” She nodded, but her cheeks looked rosy and cold. John took off his woolen scarf and wrapped it around her head to cover her mouth and nose.

  “Danki,” she murmured.

  “Don’t mention it. In spite of the cold, it’s a lovely evening to go caroling, isn’t it?” The thick snow obscured the horizon and made it feel as if they were riding inside a glass snow globe. The fields lay hidden under a thick blanket of white. Pine and cedar tree branches drooped beneath their load of the white stuff. A hushed stillness filled the air, broken only by the jingle of the harness bells and the muffled thudding of the horse’s feet.

  Their first destination was only a mile from John’s house. They reached it all too soon. As they drew close, he saw several sleighs parked in front of the home already. The other members of the Bowman family were waiting for them. They all got out and walked toward the house. The porch light was on. The front door opened to reveal his neighbors Connie Stroud and her daughter Zoe waiting for them. As Lucy and Megan scrambled down from the sleigh, John offered Willa his hand to help her out. When she took it, he gave her an affectionate squeeze. She graced him with a shy smile in return.

  “Was this what you imagined Christmas would be like when you decided to return to your Amish family?”

  She shook her head. “I never imagined anything like this. Do you do it every year?”

  “We do.”

  “You aren’t going to actually sing, are you, John?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Nee, but I will hum along.”

  “Softly, dear, softly,” she suggested.

  He wondered if she realized that she had called him dear. It was turning out to be an even more wonderful night than he had hoped for. He squeezed her hand as the song began and softly hummed close to her ear.

  They made stops at various English and Amish homes as the group made a circuit around the farms in the area. Wherever they stopped, they were greeted by cheerful people with hot drinks and mounds of cookies. Samuel called out the song titles and began each one as the group followed his lead. They sang five songs at each home before bundling into the sleighs again. Calls of Merry Christmas and Frehlicher Grischtdaag followed them when they left. Lucy and Megan were worn-out before the sixth house. John and Willa remained in the sleigh with the girls bundled under the quilts while the others sang.

  He looked over at Willa. “I hope you don’t mind missing out on the cookies.”

  “I don’t when I have something so sweet in my arms.” She adjusted Lucy’s hat to cover her ears.

  “I feel the same way.” He hefted Megan to a more comfortable hold. “What will we do when we have three? We don’t have enough arms between us.”

  “You should have children of your own, John,” she said, looking away.

  “I like yours. I can’t wait to meet the next one. Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

  “I would like a boy.”

  He pulled the quilt up higher around Megan and knew it was now or never. He had to share his heart, or he would burst. “I’ve become mighty fond of little girls and of one grown woman who happens to be their mother.”

  “I know the girls are fond of you, too.”

  “And their mother? How does she feel?”

  “She likes you.”

  “There’s a problem, then.”

  She glanced his way. “What problem?”

  “I more than like you, Willa Lapp. In fact, I’m in love with you. What are we going to do about it?”

  * * *

  I’m in love with you. What are we going to do about it?

  The question echoed through Willa’s mind as she stared at the hope in his eyes. What could they do about their growing feelings for one another? She was in love with John. He loved her. She didn’t doubt him, but what future was there for them? How could she make him see how hopeless it was unless she told him the truth? The whole terrible truth. She had tried to kill the little girls he loved.

  She could do the same to another child. To the child she carried.

  Show me the path I need to take, Lord.

  John waited patiently for her answer.

  She looked away. “I can’t change how you feel, but I can’t give you the love you seek.”

  Megan raised her head. “Can we go home now?”

  “We’ll go home soon,” Willa assured her.

  “Willa, talk to me,” John said. “I know you care about me.”

  “Not here. Not in front of the girls.”

  “Then tomorrow. We need to talk without inter
ruptions.”

  “I have to work until noon, then I see the midwife.”

  The carolers came back to the sleighs. Vera settled herself in the back seat and glanced at the girls. “These two won’t be up in time to go to work with you, Willa. They can stay home with me. Anna has invited some of the schoolchildren and their families over tomorrow for treats. I’ll bring the girls in to meet the children at noon and they can stay and play with the others.”

  “I’ll bring them,” John said. “That way you can get your grocery shopping done, and I can drive Willa to her midwife appointment.”

  “Wunderbar,” Vera said, patting Willa’s hand.

  Willa forced a smile. She had until tomorrow to think of a way to let John down without breaking his heart. And hers.

  * * *

  Willa sighed as she dusted the jars of jam on the gift shop shelves. A sleepless night had provided only one answer. She had to tell John about her condition. Perhaps with the support of the midwife, Willa could make him see that loving her was pointless.

  The bell over the front door jingled. “I’ll only be a minute, Nick. I just want to grab some hard candy for Hannah.”

  Willa turned around, happy for the distraction. An English woman with dark auburn hair and bright green eyes walked across the floor toward her. She wore jeans and an emerald green parka that brought out the color of her eyes. There was something familiar about her.

  “Do you have root beer candy? The kind that looks like little barrels?”

  Her voice gave her away. Willa stared, unable to believe her eyes as her cousin Miriam Kaufman stood smiling in front of her. She was Miriam Bradley now. The sheriff’s wife. Miriam hadn’t changed much in ten years.

  “We are out of root beer candy.” She wanted to shout at her to go away.

  The woman pointed to the display case. “No, you aren’t. I see a bag right here.” She tipped her head to the side. “Don’t I know you?”

  “I’m new here.” Willa looked away, resisting the urge to run.

  “Willa? It is you. Willa Lapp. Little cousin Willa. You are the spitting image of your mother. How long has it been?”

 

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