A Mother's Gift

by Charlotte Hubbard

  Leah sat back against the buggy seat, her eyes wide. “That sounds downright sinful, lolling in bed—holed up in a nice room—when we’d usually be doing chores in the barn or cooking breakfast,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “I—I’m not sure I’ll know how to do that.”

  “I can teach you, sweet Leah,” Jude teased.

  Leah giggled. “I bet you can.”

  Chapter 18

  Leah cherished every moment of her time with Jude at the Kanagy place. She was astounded that before they’d even arrived, he’d arranged for those private breakfasts he’d teased her about during the drive—and he’d also paid extra to take their noon and evening meals with Bram and Nate Kanagy and their wives so she and Jude wouldn’t need to venture into town for food.

  “This getaway is one of your best ideas ever, Jude,” Leah said as she gazed out their room’s big window late Wednesday morning. “It was so thoughtful of you to see to our meals and get us this room overlooking the woods. I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed, so carefree—and please don’t think I don’t love the kids—”

  Jude kissed her temple as he stood behind her, holding her. “I would never think that about you, sweetheart,” he countered. “Truth be told, I was ready for some time away from parenting, too—and I believe we’ll both see the kids from clearer, better-rested eyes when we return on Friday morning.”

  Leah watched a small red fox wander just to the edge of the woods, staying in the shade and underbrush to take in its surroundings. She touched the window so Jude would notice the fox, too. “You know, he has the right idea,” she said pensively. “There’s nothing wrong with taking refuge—staying in your safe domain—while you assess what lies around you,” she continued. “You are my safe domain, Jude. My home. Because you’ve loved me so well, I’ve grown beyond that dark, desperate place I was in three weeks ago when I told you I couldn’t go on living with your family.”

  “The morning the twins were eavesdropping,” Jude recalled with a sigh. “It’s been such an emotional roller-coaster ride since they overheard the truth about Frieda. I’m sorry they’ve put you through so much, Leah.”

  “Ah, but I haven’t been alone during this ordeal,” she pointed out as she turned in his arms. “I’ve had you by my side. And I feel we’ve reached a resolution with Alice and Adeline, because now we have support from our mothers and your brother. We’re not facing the girls’ rudeness alone.”

  “Their misbehavior finally caught up to them, in front of tongues that wagged—and a bishop who won’t accept excuses for bad behavior,” Jude remarked softly. “I confess that I’ve wondered how things have been going for Jeremiah and our mamms these past couple of days—but not enough that I want to call home and find out!”

  Leah laughed, reveling in the warmth of Jude’s embrace—and in the strength he revealed by sharing his thoughts and misgivings with her. She suspected that many of her friends’ husbands kept their feeling to themselves, and she felt blessed that Jude could show his vulnerability to her—could admit he didn’t have all the answers, and that he wasn’t always in control of his children or his fears.

  “Mary and Martha must be cooking something really wonderful for dinner,” she said, inhaling deeply. “Can you smell it? What do you suppose it is?”

  “We should go downstairs and find out, so they don’t have to wait for us,” Jude replied. “Bram has been kind enough to take on a couple of sales I was supposed to call this week, so the least I can do is help him stay on schedule.”

  When they stepped out of their cozy room, Leah once again drank in the simple beauty of the Kanagys’ huge double home, which had been designed so each couple had separate living quarters on either side of the guest rooms in the center. Mary and Martha’s dat, Amos Koblentz, was a much sought-after carpenter, and he’d built many lovely features into the residence he’d given his twin daughters for their wedding gift.

  The gleaming wooden staircase that spiraled down into the oversize dining room made Leah feel as though she were a queen descending to the main floor of a castle—even though Nate and Bram had pointed out that the staircase’s design had saved considerable space, compared to what a traditional stairway with a large landing would’ve required. Hardwood floors added a luxurious sense of warmth to the room, which housed four extended walnut tables—with enough seating to accommodate the uppermost number of guests the Kanagys could host.

  “I understand why our linoleum floors at home are practical,” Leah said wistfully, “but this wood is so pretty. It adds such warmth to the room, even if it’s more work to maintain.”

  Mary and Martha emerged from the kitchen with two large platters, their blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’re Plain, so we’ll share our decorating secret,” one of the redheads teased.

  “Jah, you’re walking on vinyl flooring that’s made to look like hardwood,” the other twin put in. “After visiting a few other country inns, we knew our place had to have a look that English folks would feel was homey—”

  “But we didn’t want to spend a lot of time buffing and polishing wood floors. So Dat came to our rescue,” her sister finished. As Mary and Martha gazed around their dining room with obvious delight, Leah recalled that Mary wore her kapp strings behind her head while Martha let them hang down the front of her dress—their subtle way of dressing differently so guests could tell them apart.

  “This is amazing,” Jude said as he knelt to run his fingertips over the flooring. “I’d install this sort of flooring at our place in a heartbeat, but my brother the bishop would be the first one to tell me I was being extravagant—showing off—if I replaced our gray linoleum with this stuff.”

  The sisters shared a chuckle, their noses crinkling identically. “Bishop Vernon helped our dat with the cabinets and finishing work, and he was amazed at how fine the flooring appeared, too,” Martha said.

  “Jah, he almost told us to send it back and get linoleum—until Dat showed him that it was an upgraded version of vinyl flooring,” Mary recalled.

  “Bishop Vernon is a special man,” Leah said as she gazed again at the beautiful details of the room. “I doubt Morning Star’s Bishop Jeremiah would allow Amish folks to operate a bed and breakfast.”

  “Jah, a couple of years ago one of our families had the opportunity to take over a local hotel, and Jeremiah nixed that transaction,” Jude said. “He didn’t like the idea that some of the guests rented rooms for a few hours in the daytime—couples who might’ve been married, but not to each other,” he added with a raised eyebrow. “Not the sort of business Plain people should be involved with.”

  The redheads’ eyes widened. “Bishop Vernon had a few qualms about that as well,” Mary said with a nod, “but he gave us permission to run an inn because Nate and Bram have their auction barn on the property—and we’re out here in the middle of nowhere—”

  “And we require that folks make an advanced reservation with a deposit and stay at least one night,” Martha put in. “Most of them stay longer.”

  “Bishop Vernon and his wife were the first guests to reserve a room, so they know firsthand about the accommodations,” Mary said with a chuckle. “Some mornings he pops in for breakfast, too, because he likes to talk to the people who come here from so many places—”

  “And because he thinks you girls bake the best breads and cinnamon rolls he’s ever tasted,” Bram teased as he came inside with his brother.

  Nate, the taller and older of the two men, slung his arms around Mary’s and Martha’s shoulders. “Bishop Vernon also realizes that some of my clients find it convenient to stay with us when they’re delivering or picking up horses I train for them—or when folks come quite a distance to attend an auction in Bram’s barn,” he said.

  “Jah, it’s not as though the small towns around here have many motels,” Bram put in. He flashed a brown-eyed smile at Mary and Martha. “It seems our wives had the right idea all along, wanting to run a B and B. We only married them so they
could support us on their profits!”

  Martha and Mary laughed and returned to the kitchen. Within minutes they had carried more bowls to the table they’d set with simple blue woven placemats and dishes with a deep blue floral pattern. Leah sat down in the chair Jude pulled out for her, between their hostesses, and Jude took his place between Bram and Nate, across the table. After they’d bowed their heads in silent prayer, Leah surveyed their dinner hungrily.

  “It’s a real pleasure to sit down to meat loaf and pot roast with gravy,” she said happily. “And the best part is that I didn’t have to cook!”

  Nate chuckled as he handed the platter of roast beef to Jude. “Bram and I have discovered that we get a lot fancier fixings when the girls are cooking for guests—”

  “Not that we go hungry when it’s just the four of us,” Bram hastened to put in. He smiled endearingly at the young woman to Leah’s left. “But I’ll admit that our wives have a talent for making meals big enough that we eat twice from what they cook once.”

  “Planned-overs, instead of just leftovers,” his wife explained.

  “Mostly because we enjoy spoiling our guests with big breakfasts more than we like to fuss over dinner and supper,” her sister explained. “By the time we clean guest rooms and help Bram with sales at the auction barn, there’s not a lot of time and energy left to cook the big meals our mamms fixed when we lived at home.”

  “But our mamms weren’t working at two other jobs on top of managing their households and kids,” Nate pointed out, smiling indulgently at the redhead to Leah’s right. “One of these days when the kids come along, Bram and I will hire extra help so our wives won’t work at the auction barn.”

  “And that’s when we might have to give up being innkeepers,” Mary said with a shrug.

  “But for now, we enjoy every moment of entertaining our guests,” Martha added, grinning at her sister. “We’re living our dream, the four of us. We’ll have these days to look back on when we’ve become parents, knowing we allowed ourselves some time to do exactly as we chose . . . even if the bishop and our parents are starting to hint that it’s time we took on adult responsibilities—”

  “And gave them grandkids.”

  Leah smiled. Mary and Martha were effortlessly finishing each other’s sentences, the way Adeline and Alice did. After she’d filled her plate with a slice of meat loaf, some pot roast, mashed potatoes, glazed carrots, and fried apples, she felt compelled to ask the redheaded, fun-loving twins a question. “So tell me,” she began as she cut into her meat loaf, “did you girls give your parents fits when you were young? Mary, did you pretend to be Martha? Or were you sweet and well-behaved, always following the rules?”

  Across the table, Nate and Bram burst out laughing. Their dark hair and eyes made a handsome contrast to their fairer wives’ features, and their mirth filled the dining room.

  “When we first met Mary and Martha, they played that very trick on us,” Bram recalled fondly.

  “Jah, and I walked away from their place in a big snit, believing we’d never be able to trust them if we courted them,” Nate added. “Even so, I knew Martha was the woman for me—”

  “Even if she sorta played us false—set us up by secretly calling Mary on her cell phone so she could be in on the game,” Bram put in. “But their parents set them straight—and the girls set me straight about a few wild-hare ideas—”

  “And not long after that, we were engaged,” Nate said with a satisfied nod. “So now we’re living the dream, like Martha said.”

  Leah shared a long gaze with Jude. Was it too much to hope that someday Alice and Adeline would grow into sensible, responsible adults, as Mary and Martha had? She didn’t think the two redheads could be much over twenty, if that old, yet they were managing a successful bed and breakfast business while their husbands of about the same age also ran independent businesses. “My dream is to live in a home where our sixteen-year-old twins no longer crave English boys—or the cell phone that one of those boys provided,” she admitted with a sigh.

  “The girls’ disrespect for Leah is the main reason she and I came here for a few days,” Jude admitted sadly. “Adeline and Alice seem to have lost touch with everything our Amish faith holds dear, even the basic courtesies their mother—my first wife—instilled in them when they were children.”

  “Rumspringa can be rough on parents, I suspect,” Martha said softly. “Although when you’re fully immersed in having your run-around years before you commit to the church, you’re not always aware of the havoc you wreak. We were seventeen going on eighteen when we switched places on Nate and Bram—and meanwhile caused our parents a wagonload of worry. Yet we didn’t see our behavior as rude or unacceptable.”

  “Our mamm and dat came down hard on us, to hold us accountable for our deception,” Mary put in as she rose to refill the empty potato bowl. “Teenagers have to be told what their parents expect of them—and also reminded that the world doesn’t revolve around them. If our parents had let us run wild, I don’t want to think about the sort of trouble Martha and I might’ve gotten into—”

  “Not because they were bad girls, understand,” Nate insisted quickly.

  “But they liked to have their fun,” Bram put in as he grinned at his wife. “And they were so irresistibly cute that Nate and I fell for them hook, line, and sinker—even though we knew they wouldn’t become wives who agreed to do everything a typical Amish husband would expect of them.”

  Jude laughed softly. “Jah, from what I’ve observed, you two couples are anything but typical—and I’m seriously impressed with the life you’ve made for yourselves at such a young age,” he added. “You give me hope that Alice and Adeline can turn themselves around and someday become responsible adults and gut wives.”

  “Don’t give up on them,” Martha said softly. “And don’t forget to tell them when they do things right.”

  “Jah, they need you more than they know,” Mary added solemnly.

  * * *

  When Jude steered the rig into the lane midmorning on Friday, his heart felt lighter—renewed by the love he’d shared with Leah in the company of the Kanagy family. “Look at this,” he said to Leah as Stevie raced out of the house, running toward them full-tilt. “I think our boy missed us.”

  “Dat! Leah!” Stevie hollered. “I’ve been waitin’ and watchin’ for ya to come home!”

  Jude stopped the rig and hopped out its door to catch Stevie, who rushed into his arms. He hoisted the laughing boy above his head, twirling him in the air just to hear the joyful sound of his laughter and to share his son’s unabashed love and excitement. Jude lowered Stevie to his shoulder, hugging him hard. “So how’d it go with Uncle Jeremiah and your two mammis?” he asked. He figured his boy’s account might be more accurate than the story the twins told him.

  Leah had joined them, happily wrapping her arms around Jude and Stevie so the three of them formed an affectionate huddle. “It’s gut to see you, Stevie,” she said as she rumpled his thick brown hair. “We stayed in a nice inn, but it was very quiet there without you—and without any goats or ducks or cattle or chickens to tend.”

  Stevie beamed at them. “Me and Uncle Jeremiah took real gut care of the animals,” he said, nodding vigorously. “I showed him how to feed ’em their rations, and he took me out every afternoon on his big ole horse—to get away from the girls and have some man time, ya know.”

  Jude laughed as the three of them climbed into the rig. Jeremiah’s dappled gray Percheron was an impressive animal—he stood several hands higher than the bishop—so Stevie had no doubt been delighted to sit atop the huge horse with his uncle.

  “Did Mammi Lenore and Mammi Margaret spoil you by cooking all your favorite meals and treats?” Leah asked, smiling as Stevie perched between her and Jude on the seat. “And how did little Betsy do?”

  Jude noticed that Leah had asked about everyone except the twins, perhaps trying to extend their peaceful getaway for as long as possible—and he cou
ldn’t blame her. He had vowed to return to the Kanagy place with her every now and again because the placid inn in the countryside had restored their souls. And Mary’s and Martha’s remarks about dealing with teenagers had also convinced him to remain firm in his convictions about how to raise his rebellious daughters.

  “They made us chocolate chip cookies and nanner cream pie—and ’sketti with cheese on top!” Stevie crowed. “It was awesome! Betsy’s doin’ real gut, too—and Alice and Adeline even like her now, maybe coz both mammis thought they should be payin’ more attention to her.”

  Jude glanced at Leah over the top of Stevie’s rumpled hair. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask, Do we dare hope this improvement will continue? Leah shrugged, her expression hopeful. It was indeed good news that the twins were finally spending time with the baby . . . because maybe if they paid more sisterly attention to Betsy, they wouldn’t feel the need to sneak away from home with those English boys.

  Jude steered Rusty into the stable, thinking of one more subject to discuss with his son before they entered the house. “Did your sisters stay home while we were gone?” he asked as he set the buggy’s brake. “Did they rifle through any more rooms looking for the cell phone?”

  Stevie smiled knowingly. “They still haven’t found it. And they think Dexter and Phil are probably ready to throw them under the bus,” he replied.

  “Throw them under the bus?” Leah asked. “What bus runs out here in the country?”

  “Dexter and Phil?” Jude queried. His heart pounded with the thought that more of Alice and Adeline’s secrets might’ve just been revealed.

  “That’s the two English guys they’ve been chasin’ after,” Stevie confirmed. He shrugged as he looked at Leah. “I dunno about the bus thing. Do ya think they’re gonna take a trip or somethin’? I haven’t heard ’em say no more about that.”

  Jude climbed out of the buggy and let his son jump down onto the floor. If he’d chastised Alice and Adeline for listening through the walls, he should be consistent with Stevie—even if his son often provided pertinent information. “You know it’s wrong to listen to the girls with your ear to their bedroom wall—or at the space under their door—jah?” he asked sternly.