“Oh, it was nothin’ really,” Molly said, smiling. “I just hope everything works out tomorrow … for Rachel, ya know.”
Well, Susanna hoped it more than anyone, but she couldn’t be sure how her daughter would take to the outspoken smithy Lapp. ’Least not the way she seemed to be comin’ into her own more and more these days. Susanna truly hoped she hadn’t stuck her neck out too far, invitin’ a near-total stranger for Christmas dinner.
Fifteen
Lavina really wanted to take the copies of Gabe’s artwork to Adele for a Christmas surprise. She’d even asked Rachel if she wanted to go up to Reading, but Rachel hadn’t seemed much interested. ’Least she hadn’t responded the way Lavina thought she might, seein’ as how she was sure the young woman was sweet on one Philip Bradley. ’Course, it was best to let things happen as they might, in God’s way and His time, too … if’n the friendship was meant to be at all. Besides, who was to say that Philip would come all the way down from New York City, anyways.
“Mam says we’re havin’ company from Paradise,” Rachel told her, looking worried. “You don’t s’pose it’s—” She stopped right then, her face drooping.
Lavina gasped upon hearing it. “Don’t think it could be the smithy Lapp, do ya? Not unless …”
“What?”
“Whoever’d do such a thing? Not your mamma!”
Rachel shook her head in dismay. “You must not know my mother very well, if you’re askin’ that. She’s a conniver, she is. And I surely ain’t the first person to tell ya so!”
Lavina thought on that and had to agree that Rachel was right ’bout at least one thing. Jah, Susanna was a schemer, all right. As for invitin’ a stranger into the Zook house to share Christmas dinner, well, Lavina didn’t have an opinion on that, really. Lots of Amish families had outside guests comin’ in on Christmas Day, ’specially. Guess Rachel would just hafta wait and see what happened.
Rachel was awful glad to have Esther and her family over for the noon meal, along with all the other relatives. Levi and the children played checkers on the floor in the commons area with Annie—where B&B guests usually spent their time. Not this Christmas. It was the first year since they’d had overnight boarders that not a single lodger would be sharing the day or the feast.
Rachel wasn’t as happy ’bout that as she was to have more time with Esther.
The older women, all six of them, helped Mam put the finishing touches on the roasted turkey, stuffed with corn bread, and laid it out in the dining room on the longest platter Mam owned with all the trimmings: mashed potatoes and gravy, buttered homemade noodles, cut sweet corn, lima beans, cabbage slaw, sweet and sour pickles, two kinds of olives, and plenty of celery and carrot sticks. To top off the meal, there’d be enough pumpkin pie for seconds, ice cream, and a variety of cookies. Not to mention the many small dishes of candy and nuts scattered here and there.
Mam had made certain that the younger children—ten of them, including Annie and Joshua, Lizzy’s little one—had places in the kitchen. “That way we won’t worry who spills what,” she’d said as Rachel and Esther worked to set the tables in both the kitchen and the dining room. There would be an overflow area, where folding tables would be used, but every detail of the dinner had been carefully planned, as Mam was known to do.
Only one aspect of the meal was left to be discovered, and Rachel encountered that rather abruptly when the doorbell rang. Just as they were preparing to sit down, she heard Dat’s voice as he answered the door, welcoming someone inside.
“It’s John Lapp … the blacksmith widower,” someone whispered, though Rachel couldn’t tell who, not for sure.
All she knew was that her stomach was churning and her face felt warm. What had Mam gone and done now?
She made herself scarce, hiding out in the kitchen as Dat went ’round introducing the smithy from Paradise like he was the most important guest under their roof, now that he was here, anyways. She didn’t quite know how to act, seein’ as how this man had been invited for her sake—unbeknownst to her and without her consent.
Was Mam so eager to have her courtin’ again that she’d do such a thing? Why, it was beyond her how Mam could’ve gone and spoiled Christmas dinner for her like this. Now that she thought of it, she almost wished she’d agreed to go to Reading and visit Adele Herr with Lavina, after all. Maybe it wasn’t too late for an afternoon visit… .
Philip arrived at the nursing home, bearing gifts. “It’s looking like Christmas around here,” he said, placing two colorful packages on the dresser near the foot of the hospital bed.
“Oh, Philip, what have you done?” Adele was sitting in a chair across from the bed, gazing at the gifts. “Those aren’t for me, are they?”
“You and only you.” He pulled up a chair and sat facing her, amused at her childlike comment.
“What a blessing you are to me.”
He thanked her, once again, for the spiritual encouragement she had offered during their months of correspondence. “I’ve learned so much from you, Adele, and in such a short time.” He reached for his New Testament, pulling it out of his sports coat pocket. “I have a Scripture to share with you before you open your gifts.”
Adele’s eyes closed briefly; then opening them, she dabbed at her face with a tissue, apologizing. “Oh, look at me go on this way. For goodness’ sake, it’s Christmas morning, and my favorite person is sitting right here.”
He reached for her hand. “It’s all right, Adele.”
She sighed heavily. “My eyes should be void of tears after all these years.”
He shook his head, wishing to cheer her. “But they’re joyful tears.”
“Yes, I believe they are.” She was smiling now, motioning for him to read from his Testament. “Don’t mind me. I want to hear the verses you’ve chosen for Jesus’ birthday celebration.”
Locating the very passage his father had read two nights before, Philip shared the story of the first Christmas from Luke’s gospel with the woman who had adopted him as her own, at least in her heart.
After they prayed together, he showed her the book he’d found in the small New York bookstore. “It has an unusual title and topic, don’t you agree?”
“Yes … yes it does,” she said, turning to the back of the book. When she’d finished scanning the copy, she looked up. “Very interesting.”
“If you’d like to read it, you may. I’d like to have your opinion, as well.”
“Oh, I’ll read it, all right, but this looks like a book that should be circulated among Plain folk.”
He didn’t know if she was thinking of any particular community, but one thing led to another, and soon they began to talk about Philip’s investigation into conversion disorder.
It was Adele who first brought up the topic. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your hysteria research … with Rachel Yoder in mind.”
“There’s certainly a lot of information on the subject, and I’ve brought it with me. I just don’t know exactly how to go about getting it to her.”
“Keep in mind, Lavina Troyer’s a good friend of Rachel,” Adele remarked. “She might be able to help.”
“I’d thought of Lavina,” Philip admitted. “But I don’t know her, only know of her.”
“Well, seems to me Lavina’s a person who can be trusted. And I should know, because I lived in her house a good many years ago.”
“True, Lavina might be the best choice. I’d wondered about mailing a packet of information to her, and would even be willing to write a brief letter to explain what I hoped she could do … for Rachel’s sake.”
“So you would ask her to read the contents to Rachel—is that what you’re thinking?”
“Would Rachel think it presumptuous of me, sending it through Lavina?”
Adele glanced at the ceiling, then shook her head slowly. “I just don’t know how Lavina would manage all those technical terms. But it would be a shame if all your work came to naught.”
Philip
wouldn’t come right out and say he’d much prefer to deliver the data in person and discuss some of the ideas with Rachel directly. But how that might come about, he didn’t know.
When Adele’s turkey dinner arrived on a tray, Philip excused himself to go eat at the inn’s dining room, where he was staying. “I’ll return in time for the Christmas program this evening,” he promised.
“Good idea, Philip, especially since the nurses will insist I have a nap after this sizable meal.” She glanced at the generous portion before her and shrugged. “Have you ever seen so much food?”
He didn’t have to think too hard to recall the six-course candlelight suppers he’d experienced at the Orchard Guest House B&B last fall. “Eat what you can, but don’t overdo it,” he suggested. She extended her arms, and he was glad to go to her for a hug. “Will you be all right until I return?”
“Never better. Now, you go enjoy yourself … wherever you’re bound.”
The glint in her eye made him wonder. Did she suspect that he might be headed to Bird-in-Hand for a short visit with Rachel? Did Adele know him that well?
They were sitting around the fire, tellin’ one story after another—the children in the sunroom ’round the corner, playing games and sneakin’ cookies—when Benjamin came up with a humdinger of a tale. ’Course, Susanna knew it was every bit true, but it was just so surprisin’ to her that her husband would wanna reveal something so personal.
“Back in the days when corn huskin’ bees were still goin’ on ’round these parts, Susie and I showed up at one of them work frolics—not together, really. We was just gettin’ acquainted at the time.”
Susanna could feel the heat risin’ in her face, and she wondered if it was such a gut idea for Benjamin to be tellin’ this one in front of John Lapp, who most definitely had his eye on their Rachel. Why, from the time the womenfolk finished cleaning up the kitchen and joined the menfolk, who’d come into the front room to relax a bit, the smithy Lapp sat across from her daughter, just a-starin’. Truth was, his big brown eyes hardly strayed once since they all finished eatin’ and come in here. John was older than Rachel by three or four years, no doubt. He was clearly attracted to her daughter, and Susanna was ever so relieved ’bout that. Appeared as if her plotting might just pay off.
She watched the smithy, careful not to be caught staring. He was a tall, solid man. His dark hair was thinning just a bit on top, but his beard was thick and full, which implied that he’d been married and lost his spouse to death. ’Course, if folks hadn’t known of his widower status, they’d be thinkin’ he was married, due to the untrimmed beard and, of course, no mustache. The beard was their way of lettin’ folks know who was hitched up and who wasn’t.
She was gawkin’ now, noticing his long fingers and callused hands. John Lapp was a hardworkin’ blacksmith and the father of children—how many she didn’t rightly know. ’Least if Rachel paired up with him and they eventually wed, little Annie would have herself some stepbrothers and sisters, and prob’ly more, too, before long, knowin’ how Rachel loved children. Sad thing, though, she’d be losin’ her girl to another township if that happened. It was the one thorn in her flesh as she thought ’bout all this.
Benjamin continued his story. “Susie and I’d gone to this here singin’ over near Smoketown, and the older folk had departed for home along ’bout ten o’clock, so we knew it was time for a little pairing off and square dancin’ amongst the young people. ’Course I knew that the folk games we often played to the tune of ‘Turkey in the Straw’ and ‘Skip to My Lou’—on a fiddle, guitar, and a mouth organ or two—wasn’t really considered dancin’ by the Old Order.” Ben stopped here and, right in the middle of the tellin’, turned and asked John Lapp, “How ’bout your church district over in Paradise?”
“Jah, same as here,” John said, nodding his head. “Most of the bishops are sticklers when it comes to any sort of dancin’, you know, for the young folk. Same thing with music at them singin’s.” He spoke with authority, like he was mighty confident ’bout his answer.
Susanna liked that, but she wondered ’bout his blunt approach. Almost sounded as though he had something to prove. She wasn’t sure how that would set with Rachel, her bein’ as timid as she was. Most the time, anyways. ’Cept here lately …
“Be that as it may,” Ben went on, “Susie and I each took a corn shock—same as the other couples there—tryin’ to see who could finish shucking their corn first. And wouldn’tcha know, it was my girl who found the red ear of corn, put there by the hostess, and she had no choice but to receive a kiss from her partner, which, of course, was me.” Ben was glowing. “‘Course, you all know who I ended up courtin’ and marryin’ soon after that.”
The group burst out clapping. Even Rachel joined in, though she kept her face down, prob’ly because she didn’t know precisely where John Lapp might be seated.
Susanna was startin’ to blame herself for the whole setup. She’d clearly made her daughter miserable on Christmas Day. The smithy was no dummy, neither. Her own husband pullin’ something like this? Why, she could hardly contain herself.
Straightening herself a bit and taking a few deep breaths, Susanna hoped her husband would start thinkin’ of poor Rachel, how she might be feeling along ’bout now. As for John Lapp, she could tell he was a mite embarrassed, too, by the looks of them bright red ears peekin’ out from under his brown hair.
Esther, bless her heart, saved the day for both Rachel and the smithy, changing the course of the afternoon. In a clear and strong voice, she led out in a well-known carol, followed by two more. And if anyone had asked Susanna privately, she would’ve agreed that singing “Joy to the World” and the other songs was a right gut move on her Ohio niece’s part.
Jah, ’twas.
After carols were sung and several of Leah’s and Susanna’s married sons and their families headed back home for milkin’ chores, Levi began sharing certain things from his heart. Listening more closely now, Rachel was ever so interested in hearing what Esther’s husband had to say. He was explainin’ some of the life-changing teachings he and Esther had discovered at their Ohio church, and began to read from the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy. “‘Let not your hearts faint, fear not, and do not tremble, neither be ye terrified because of them; for the Lord your God is he that goeth with you, to fight for you against your enemies, to save you.’”
Levi went on to explain that “fear is the opposite of faith,” and that we must turn away from it in the name of Jesus. “It’s time we do spiritual battle against the enemy. But we mustn’t shrink back in fear. We must keep our eyes set on the Lord—gaze on Him—as He leads us on to victory.”
He was startin’ to sound ever so much like a preacher, Rachel thought, and she wondered how her own parents would receive his forceful words … on Christmas Day, of all things.
And what of John Lapp? Was he hearin’ some of God’s Word for the first time, maybe? Honestly, she didn’t want to give a second thought to the Paradise widower, not the way her heart beat for Philip Bradley since first meeting him. And, goodness’ sake, the way John had dominated the conversation at the dinner table, well, she was right surprised at a stranger coming in and taking over like that, almost as if he was showin’ off for the whole lot of them!
Just as she was wonderin’ what she’d say if the smithy asked her to go with him somewhere, sometime, the doorbell rang.
“Well, now, who’s this?” Dat said and went to the door.
Immediately Rachel recognized the man’s voice. Philip had come back. Just like he said he would!
She sat still as anything, trying not to get her hopes up that he’d come to see her. No, she oughtn’t be so quick to think such a wonderful-gut thing. Still, her heart pounded with delight.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Zook,” Philip said, standing on the doorstep, his present for Annie tucked under one arm.
Ben eyed the gift. “I’m surprised to see you here … again.”
“I was in R
eading, visiting a friend, and wanted to drop by and wish you folks a merry Christmas.”
“Well, the same to you,” Ben said, but he didn’t budge an inch or indicate that Philip was welcome inside.
Philip tried but failed to call upon his journalistic skills, those used in interviews and research. “Are, uh, Rachel … and Annie at home?” A ludicrous question. Of course, they were home. It was Christmas afternoon! He struggled with what to say, having experienced the same cotton-mouthed situation months ago, when he’d come here the first time.
Ben glanced over his shoulder. “Jah, Rachel’s home, but she’s entertainin’ company just now, and Annie’s busy with some of her cousins.” The man turned back to face him, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed, nearly hissing through his front teeth. “It’s Christmas Day, for goodness’ sake.”
While Ben admonished him, Philip was able to see past him into the living room, where he spotted Rachel. She was sitting next to a woman about her age, someone who might be a cousin, perhaps, since they looked very much alike, only this woman had darker hair and eyes. But it was the man, a bearded Amishman in his thirties or so, who caught Philip’s attention. He sat directly across from Rachel, gazing at her intently, as if awestruck. And understandably so. Rachel’s face was aglow with color, and there was something more to it, although he couldn’t pinpoint what. Nevertheless, it was obvious the blind woman was the object of someone’s affection. Even a momentary observation was enough to see that.
“I … I guess I made a mistake in coming,” he managed to say. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Zook.” Philip turned to go, present still in hand, undecided as to whether to leave it or take it back to his car. So disconcerted was he that he had not a thought of what he might’ve said to Rachel—or little Annie—if he had been given the opportunity. And there was the pertinent information on conversion disorder in his briefcase, representing hours of work… .
Opening the back door to his car, Philip placed the lone Christmas present inside on the seat. Just as he was standing up to close the door again, he heard someone call out his name. Looking toward the house, he saw that it was Rachel’s adorable daughter. “Well, hello there, Annie,” he replied.
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