by Amy Lillard
He bounded up the stairs and knelt down by his bed, reaching underneath where he had stored the presents and coming up with . . . nothing. Well, almost nothing. There was an envelope with his name printed on the outside in carefully formed letters.
Zane opened the note.
Dear Zane—
I had to move the presents. I was afraid something would happen to them here.
John Paul.
Something did happen to them here. John Paul took them.
P.S. Check the bathroom.
Zane pushed himself to his feet, mumbling about the crazy habits of the Amish. But the presents weren’t in the bathroom, either. All he found was another note. This one taped to the mirror.
Sorry. Decided this was not the place for them either. The chicken coop is much safer.
The chicken coop?
Zane rushed back down the stairs, rounding into the kitchen and pointing a finger at John Paul. “Where are they?”
The young man shrugged, his face impassive, and Zane wondered if he’d ever played poker. John Paul glanced at the note in Zane’s hand. “Says there, in the chicken coop.”
“You did not put my Christmas presents in the chicken coop.”
He shrugged again. “Says I did.”
Zane glared at John Paul for a full minute while he sat and drank coffee, then he realized what this was about. Paybacks for the payback.
With a low growl that was more for show, Zane pulled on his coat and hat and made his way outside.
He found just what he suspected in the chicken coop: a note telling him that the presents were in the linen closet for safe keeping.
He went back inside the house, hiding his grin as he took off his coat and hat and ran up the stairs. As he knew it would be, the linen closet did not house his presents—just another infernal note telling him that the barn was a better storage place, of course.
Zane tripped down the stairs, a little slower this time, donned his hat and coat and shot a look at the three innocent bystanders. Well, two of them were innocent.
It took him a little longer to find the note in the barn, as it was tacked onto the wall of one of the empty stalls. It stated, as he knew it would, that the barn might be a little messy for the presents, and that they were indeed upstairs in the room that Annie occupied.
Not so innocent after all.
Zane made his way back into the house, pulled off his coat and hat, hung them on their pegs and jogged up the stairs. He made it as far as Annie’s door, but stopped when he found the expected note stuck to the outside.
The presents were in the buggy.
He went back down the stairs again, pulled on his coat, smacked his hat on his head, and did his best not to slam the door behind him as he made his way back out to the barn.
But the presents weren’t in the buggy, just another note telling him to check in the downstairs bathroom.
He stalked across the yard, wondering how much longer John Paul could keep this up, and how much longer it would be before he ran himself ragged looking for the presents.
Zane pulled open the front door, took off his hat, then his coat, all the while watching John Paul for any sign of weakness. There were none.
Note in hand, he made his way to the downstairs bathroom where he found another one telling him to look upstairs. He shot John Paul a look as he climbed the stairs, again. He found another note on the door to their room stating that John Paul had found the best place for hiding the presents: they were under his bed!
Zane looked, and sure enough there they were under John Paul’s bed, not five feet from where they had started out. He blew out a breath, rocking on his heels. Then he pulled the presents out and made his way down the stairs.
John Paul was laughing hysterically when Zane hit the first floor.
Zane tried to act mad, but that lasted all of two minutes. He sat the presents at one end of the table and joined in.
John Paul wiped his eyes. “You should have seen your face.”
“Don’t push it.” Zane growled.
Abram chuckled as he joined them. “That’ll teach you to go around feedin’ people the devil’s chutney.”
They were still laughing when Annie called them to eat. Zane bowed his head and said a prayer with them, the motion as natural as breathing. He had so much to be thankful for: the feeling of family on this beautiful Christmas Day, the fact that the Lord loved them enough to send them Jesus, and had he mentioned the feeling of family? He had never before experienced anything so closely resembling a family. He hadn’t really known what he was missing. Now he did. He would miss them more than they knew.
Soon after, Gideon arrived with Katie Rose and Gabriel’s bunch not far behind. John Paul fetched Noni from the grossdawdi haus, and the celebration began.
As far as celebrations go, this one was rather subdued, but the fire crackled and everyone was together. Of course, nothing is really quiet with seven children present, yet Zane enjoyed every minute of it. He handed out his presents, more excited to see what everyone thought about their gifts than he was about opening the stack that had appeared next to his chair.
“Zane Carson, it’s beautiful,” Ruth said, as she carefully unwrapped the faceless nativity scene.
For Annie, he had bought a length of fabric in the most beautiful shade of purple. He’d consulted with Coln Anderson’s wife, and she assured him that the fabric would be allowed by the bishop and would also match the newcomer’s eyes perfectly. He’d bought the men varying sets of tools including a battery-operated drill that could be recharged at the general store. For the children he had purchased a variety of toys and candies in celebration of the day.
He held his breath when Katie Rose got to her present.
She ripped daintily at the bright red paper that covered the box. But young Samuel was having none of that. He tore at the paper with a squeal of glee. Zane wasn’t sure if it was because the package, all of his packages for that matter, were wrapped in brighter paper than all of the others—they had been wrapped in old copies of the Old Order Amish newspaper, Die Botschaft, and brown grocery sacks. He wondered if that was part of the Ordnung that he’d missed, but no one seemed too concerned on the festive occasion.
Samuel ripped and tore while Katie Rose laughed at his antics. Then she grew quiet, her beautiful eyes big and round. “An entire set of The Little House on the Prairie series?”
Zane nodded, a lump in his throat from her awed expression.
“In hardbound copies?”
“For your classroom.”
She smiled, even as she blinked back joyful tears. “Danki, Zane Carson.”
He wanted to get up and take her in his arms, share an embrace with her like they had in the barn after the birth of Jennifer’s colt, but he remained stuck to his chair. Showing her how much giving the present to her really meant to him was not necessary. Desired, but not feasible.
Annie nodded toward the pile that had slowly been building up next to Zane’s seat. “You haven’t opened any of your presents.”
He picked the one on top, realizing for the first time that everyone else had finished unwrapping their gifts, had fed the paper into the fire, and now were waiting on him. He’d been so caught up in the giving that he had completely forgotten about the receiving end.
There were four, but considering the fact that they were his first Christmas presents ever, it seemed like a mountain of gifts to him. He tore at the corner of one.
Noni pounded her cane against the planks of the floor, her green eyes sharp and merry. “That one is from me,” she said, pointing a gnarled finger. Zane couldn’t imagine what the old woman had to give him, but he was excited. He tore off the paper and uncovered the most beautiful sweater he had ever seen. It was black, a thick knit that looked like something from Anthropo
logie for men, if there had been such a store. Handmade, each stitch near perfect, but with enough texture to keep it interesting.
Emotion constricted his throat. “Danki, Noni.”
“It will keep you warm, Zane Carson. I hear tell that Chicago city is cold in the wintertime.”
“It is.” He gently wrapped the sweater back in its paper, knowing full well that every time he wore it he would be thinking of Clover Ridge.
Mary Elizabeth clapped her hands together. “Open mine next.”
“It’s from both of us,” John Paul added.
She elbowed him in the ribs, and Zane couldn’t help but laugh at their antics. Their relationship was just another something to add to the list of things that he would miss once he left.
He opened the present to find an entire box of Astro Pops. Everyone laughed. “That way you’ll have plenty,” Mary Elizabeth said.
“Yes, I will,” he said with a chuckle.
The next present was a shirt from Katie Rose. She had made it from a pretty green-patterned fabric. Its color-on-color roses might have been considered feminine, but somehow the shirt looked worthy of Banana Republic. He’d wear it with pride. “It’s beautiful. Danki.”
Katie Rose nodded.
Their gazes locked and held, and for that moment, everything seemed to stand still. A cliché, maybe, but that was what it felt like. He and Katie Rose alone, yet connected. Everyone else faded into the background, and it was just the two of them.
Then someone coughed.
“Open the last one,” Ruth requested softly.
Zane picked up the last present, this one wrapped in newspaper decorated with drawings of the Northern star, a cross, and the outline of what could only be a manger.
He tore at the paper, anticipation rising.
The Holy Bible.
Warmth flooded his hands, and they tingled as if the book were alive and vibrating its energy into him. He looked up in wonderment.
“It’s from all of us,” Ruth added.
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll read it.” This from Abram.
“Every day,” Zane promised, turning the book over in his hands. Never before had anyone given him such a special gift. No one but this Amish family, who hadn’t known him at all until three months ago. This family, who took him in and taught him about God, fed him both literally and spiritually.
Tears sprang to his eyes, and he lurched across the room, pulling Ruth into a one-armed embrace. The other hand still held the Bible, and he was unwilling to let it go.
After the gift giving, the younger children went out to check the new colt with Abram. Annie went to the kitchen to start another pot of coffee. And somehow Zane found himself sitting on the couch next to Katie Rose.
“I cannot thank you enough for the books, Zane Carson.”
So they were back to that, huh?
He gazed at her. “I’m glad you like them. Hopefully all of the children will enjoy them.”
“How did you know?”
“That Little House was on the approved reading list, or that you wanted them?”
“Both.”
Zane smiled. “Coln Anderson helped me in ordering them. He’s the one who told me they were okay for you to have.”
“The bishop does try to shield us from the sins of the world. It’s hard sometimes, but we all know and understand that it is for our own good.”
“In the world, but not of the world.”
Katie Rose’s eyes twinkled as he said the words. “Jah. But how did you know I wanted them?”
Zane tilted his head to one side and studied her. “You told me. That very first day you allowed me to have lunch with you.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Well, I do.”
“It would seem so.”
Zane looked down at the leather-bound Bible in his hands. “I still can’t believe this.”
Katie Rose just smiled, her version of the enigmatic Mona Lisa. Zane both loved and hated when she did that. He loved her smile, but hated that this particular one cut him off from guessing her thoughts. “It might be prideful to say, but I picked it out for you.”
“I love it.”
“We wanted you to have somethin’ beautiful to take with you next week.”
“I have a lot of beautiful to take home with me.”
“We wanted you to be able to pack it in your suitcase.”
Zane nodded. There wasn’t much more for him to do. He was leaving in just a few short days. He’d be home by the first.
The idea had grown less and less appealing the longer he stayed with the Amish. But with Samuel Beachy’s return the night before, Zane knew it would be next to impossible for him to stay. Katie Rose was more than half the reason he loved it here so much. Everything about her made him a better man. Like he could do God’s bidding, succeed in anything he tried. But she didn’t belong to him. She had given her heart to another long ago and now that other was back to claim it.
The fact didn’t make the desire to hold her in his arms lessen. It didn’t make the need to kiss her disappear. It would be so easy to lean into her, press his lips to hers as they sat there together. But Annie was just a few feet away. Besides, Zane was afraid that if he kissed Katie Rose even once, he’d go on kissing her forever.
A knock sounded on the door. It was Christmas Day and not the day for visiting, but Zane knew whoever it was would be welcomed inside to join in the family gathering. That was the Amish way. He just hoped it wasn’t Samuel with the preacher intending to marry Katie Rose no matter what the season.
“I’ll get it.” He stood bracing himself for whatever was to come. He couldn’t take many more surprises, as he was still reeling from the last one.
He opened the door, and a familiar dark-haired woman stood on the other side, fur coat pulled up around her neck, diamonds sparkling at her ears.
“Monica?”
“Surprise!” She smiled, holding up her left hand and flashing the deep red ruby he’d offered her so long ago. “I accept.”
15
Surprise was right. Monica was the last person he’d expected to see. Not only was she in Oklahoma, she had somehow found her way to the Fishers’.
She threw her arms around him and pressed herself close, her lips naturally finding his. Instinctively he braced his hands on her waist. Too stunned to do anything else, he half-heartedly kissed her back.
She pulled her lips from his, but kept her arms anchored firmly around his neck, thankfully not seeming to notice his inattentiveness. “Oh, I’ve missed you. It’s crazy for us to be apart.” She gave him one last hard kiss on the lips, then pulled away.
Zane was too stunned to do much else but remove her hat and smooth down the static in her hair.
“Daddy got married.”
“Again?”
“Again.” She nodded. “Number five. He and his new wife decided to honeymoon in the Caribbean. They left yesterday. So . . .” she dragged out the word, running a finger suggestively down his lips. “I decided to come see you.”
“Wow.” Eloquent, Carson. But he didn’t know what to say. He was all too aware of Katie Rose watching their every move. All too aware that moments before his fiancée had arrived, he’d been contemplating kissing another.
“Plus, I wanted to give you the good news in person. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
He stepped back, allowing her into the house. “Good news?”
In lieu of an answer, she held up her left hand and waggled her fingers as she stepped inside.
Oh. Yeah. The good news.
Her sharp blue eyes flickered around the room. He imagined her noting the crackling fire and the lack of anything modern. Zane had thought it quaint an
d unassuming, but Monica would find it backward, maybe even barbaric.
Katie Rose stood, her gaze darting between the two of them. The Mona Lisa smile was back, and Zane felt like an outsider.
Monica’s voice interrupted the stillness. “Aren’t you the cutest thing!”
Inwardly, Zane cringed, until he realized Monica was talking to him and not Katie Rose.
She flipped a hand toward his barn-door pants and suspenders, then rubbed her palm down the side of his face. “And this beard. I like it. So manly.”
He was scum. He hadn’t called her in weeks, hadn’t made any attempt to contact her, hadn’t thought about her as he should. He’d been too wrapped up in the here and now. He had taken a vacation from reality, and his real life had come knocking on the door—literally.
Zane stood between the two women. “Monica, this is Katie Rose Fisher. Her parents are my host family.”
Monica stepped forward and took Katie Rose’s limp hand into her own. She gave it a girlie handshake squeeze. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Danki.” Katie Rose nodded. “Thank you.”
Monica smiled, and Zane relaxed. She was cordial and collected around Katie Rose, and he knew that she didn’t consider the Amish woman to be a threat. His secret was safe.
Lord, please forgive me. I’ve not been the faithful man I am supposed to be.
Zane pointed to the kitchen where Annie was drying her hands on a dishtowel. “That’s—”
“Avery Ann Hamilton.” Monica’s voice rose. “So the rumors are true.”
To his surprise, Annie smiled. “Monica.”
Zane turned to Monica. “You know Annie?”
“Yes, silly. And you do too.”
Annie spoke up. “We met at the Dunstan Pro-Am a couple of years ago. I never mentioned it because I didn’t think you remembered.”
So that’s why she looked so familiar. What was a Dallas socialite doing in Amish country Oklahoma? Then it struck him. Love. He had seen the way she looked at Gideon. The way Gideon looked back at her.