An Amish Family Christmas: Heart of ChristmasA Plain Holiday

by Marta Perry

  Her mother scurried away with a tray of vegetables. Sally pasted on her fake smile and opened the door. “Merry Christmas and wel...” Her voice trailed into nothing. Ben stood hat in hand on her front porch.

  He was every bit as handsome as she remembered and her heart turned over with love. She pressed a hand to her chest to stop the wild thumping. It wasn’t fair. She wasn’t ready to see him so soon.

  “Hello, Sally. Merry Christmas to you.”

  She wrapped her arms tightly across her chest. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you. Actually, I was leaving for Cincinnati tomorrow, but then I found out you were here. Is there somewhere we can talk, just the two of us?”

  She stared at her feet. “I’m not sure I...”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him toward his buggy. “Ben Lapp, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “I need to talk to you, and you need to listen to me.”

  She glanced back at the house and saw several of her family members watching them. “All right, but I don’t like to be manhandled.”

  He stopped and spun around to face her, shock written on his face. “Oh, Sally, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Please forgive me.”

  “I’m not frightened of you, Ben. You didn’t hurt me.”

  He took a step away from her and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Would you please take a ride with me in the buggy?”

  Once Sally got in, he climbed in beside her. He took off his coat and wrapped it around her. “Are you warm enough?”

  “I’m fine. What is so important that you have to drag me away from my family’s Christmas dinner?”

  He steered the buggy down the lane and out onto the highway. “How are Kimi and Ryder?”

  “Fine. Happier than I’ve ever seen them. Spending three days not knowing if their son was dead or alive while they tried to get back home was an incredible wake-up call for Mr. and Mrs. Higgins. They decided they would all go to Paris together, and then they will come back and spend New Year’s with Mrs. McIntyre and Granny Weaver. I think their family is on the mend.”

  “God moves in mysterious ways, His wonders to behold. So does this mean you are going back to them after the New Year?”

  She looked out the window. “I resigned.”

  He turned the buggy onto a narrow lane that ran between towering trees. Their bare, arching branches interlaced overhead and cast intricate shadows on the snow-covered road. When they were out of sight of the highway, he stopped.

  “But why? Ryder needs you.”

  “He needs his mother and father more.”

  “I’m sure you could have found another job in the city.”

  “I knew it wasn’t where I want to be. It was where I needed to be for a little while, but it is not the life for me. I will be joining the church in the spring.”

  “I planned to talk to the Bishop about doing the same thing. I’m ready to settle down and start a family.”

  “I’m happy for you. That you found someone.”

  He placed a hand beneath her chin and lifted her face so that she had to look at him. “Are you happy for me? Because you don’t sound happy.”

  Tears filled her eyes. Her throat closed and she couldn’t speak.

  “Do you want to know who has captured my heart?”

  She shook her head.

  “We shared so many confidences in our time together at Granny Weaver’s that I feel I can tell you anything, Sally. The woman I’ve fallen in love with is a wonderful Amish maiden. She loves her family. She tries to live her life in a way that is pleasing to God. I’m not sure if she is a good cook, but I suspect that she is. What I don’t know, what I’m afraid to ask is, does she love me?”

  Tears slipped down Sally’s cheeks. “She’s a fool if she doesn’t.”

  He let out a sigh of relief. “I know for certain that you are no fool, Sally Yoder. Do you love me? I pray that you do, because I don’t think I can wait another minute to kiss you.”

  Sally looked at him in shock. “You love me?”

  “I think I have for a very long time. I just didn’t know it.”

  “Oh, Ben, I’ve loved you for so long. You have no idea.” She threw herself into his arms and kissed him with all the gladness in her soul.

  When the most wonderful kiss in the world ended, Sally snuggled against Ben’s side, content to be near him. Knowing she had a lifetime of bliss to look forward to, if God willed it.

  Ben kissed the top of her kapp. “You are a wonderful woman, Sally. I feel so blessed to know you. I’ll spend my life giving thanks to God.”

  “A week and a half ago I thought I was facing the worst Christmas season. If Mr. and Mrs. Higgins didn’t decide to go to Paris, if Dandy hadn’t fallen, if the blizzard hadn’t happened and Ryder hadn’t been lost, I wouldn’t be here in your arms.”

  Ben chuckled. “I reckon God knew it would take a lot to get us together.”

  She cupped his cheek, her heart soaring at the love she saw in his eyes. “It took a lot, but He has given me the most wonderful Christmas ever.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from COWBOY UNDER THE MISTLETOE by Linda Goodnight.

  Dear Reader

  Once again, I find myself in Hope Springs amid the Amish during the Christmas season. Actually, I’m snowbound today at my home in Kansas, but my heart is with Sally and Ben on their adventures in Ohio. These two characters have been with me for a long time. I just never knew their story. That may sound strange to you, but sometimes my characters won’t tell me what they need or what they want. Sally and Ben were both like that. It took a lot of prodding before I learned their story.

  Christmas is a time to prepare. We prepare our homes with decorations and lights. We prepare loads of food to make sure our friends and family have good things to eat when they visit. We pick the perfect tree and lay presents around it in preparation for Christmas morning. While it seems that a lot of preparation goes into Christmas, sometimes we do not make the right preparations.

  Joseph and Mary had very few preparations to make on that first Christmas. They didn’t even have a bed. They had to put their newborn baby in a manger. Yet they knew that their child was the light of the world.

  I hope that this Christmas you think about His wonderful gift to us and I hope that you will put a single candle in the window to tell the world that you know the true meaning of this holiday.

  Merry Christmas!

  Questions for Discussion

  Sally had been aware for a long time that she didn’t fit into her community. Has there been a time when you knew you didn’t fit into a particular group? Did you make a change because of that? If so, was it a change for the better?

  Sally presented a good example to the Higgins children, even though she was unaware of it. How can we be a better example to the children in our lives?

  Sally tried to keep her feelings about Ben hidden. She was in love with someone who didn’t love her back. Do you think it is best to tell a person about your feelings for them, or do you think it is better to remain silent?

  The Amish do very little outwardly to celebrate the holiday season. How can we show our joy in the season without adding to our outward trappings?

  Kimi and Ryder have a very typical sibling relationship. Ryder’s misfortune causes them to reevaluate how they express what they feel. If you have siblings, do you believe your relationship with them can be improved? How do you think you should go about doing that?

  Amish teenagers are not so different from English teenagers. In what ways do you think the Amish tradition of rumspringa benefits or harms the young people?

  Many of us will attend beautiful services in our churches this year. I would find
it difficult to celebrate without the physical presence of the church. What parts of the church service do you enjoy the most during the season?

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

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  Chapter One

  Someone was at the Hamilton house. Someone in a black pickup truck bearing a bull rider silhouette on the back window.

  Curious, with a tremor in her memory, Allison Buchanon pulled her Camaro sports car to the stop sign in a quiet neighborhood of Gabriel’s Crossing, Texas, and sat for a moment pondering the anomaly. She drove past this corner at least once a week on her way to her best friend’s home. She hadn’t seen any sign of life in the rambling old house for a long while. Not since before Grandmother Hamilton fell and broke her hip several months ago. And Jake had been gone so long no one even cursed his name anymore.

  If Allison had a funny quiver in her stomach, she played it off as anticipation of Faith’s bridal shower this afternoon. As hostess, she wanted to arrive early and make sure everything—including her dearest friend—was perfect.

  She glanced at the dash clock. Three hours early might be overkill.

  On the opposite corner, Dakota Weeks and a half-dozen fat puppies rolled around in the fading grass while the mama dog wagged her tail and smiled proudly, occasionally poking her nose into the ten-year-old boy’s hand for a head rub. Allison grinned and waved.

  A boy and his dogs on Saturday afternoon put her in mind of her older brothers. Even now as adults, rolling in the grass with a dog—or each other if a football game broke out—was a common occurrence. And today was a perfect day to be outside. The weather was that cusp season when cool breezes crowded out the scent of mowed grass, Dads cleaned out chimneys and Moms stored away the shorts and swimsuits. Or as townsfolk would say, “football weather.”

  Like many small Texas towns, Gabriel’s Crossing lived and breathed high school football year round, but especially in the fall. Teenage boys in pads and helmets became heroes, not only on Friday night but every day. Golden boys. Boys of the gridiron.

  Exactly the reason Jake Hamilton was no longer welcome at her mother’s table or a lot of other places in Gabriel’s Crossing.

  Oh, but they didn’t know the Jake Allison had known. The Jake who carried her darkest, most humiliating secret, the one she’d never shared with another living soul.

  Casting one last worried glance toward the Hamilton house, Allison convinced herself the truck belonged to a lawn service or maybe some long-lost relative looking to take over the place, not Jake Hamilton.

  She eased her foot off the brake and started across the intersection. The front door to the house opened and a man walked out onto the small concrete porch.

  This time Allison’s stomach did more than quiver. It fell to the floorboard and took her breath with it.

  Jake.

  She slammed on the brake and stared. It was him all right. Trim and tight muscled in fitted Wranglers, dusty boots and black cowboy hat, he looked as dangerously handsome as ever.

  His head turned her direction, and Allison realized she’d stopped at midintersection. She started forward again. At the last possible second, the steering wheel seemed to take on a life of its own because the Camaro swung into the Hamilton driveway and came to a stop.

  With the spontaneity her parents considered impulsive, Allison hopped out of the running car and walked right up to the man, her pulse in overdrive.

  “Hello, Jake. Long time.” Funny how normal her voice sounded even when she stared into fathomless olive green eyes with lashes as black as midnight.

  He hadn’t changed much except for a new scar below one eye, and she fought off the crazy urge to soothe it with a touch the way she’d once soothed his football bumps and bruises. He’d also grown facial hair in the form of a very short, scant mustache above a bit of scruff, and his sideburns were long. She couldn’t decide if she liked the look but then, when had Jake Hamilton cared one whit about what anyone else thought? Especially a Buchanon.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Allison.” His voice was the same, a low note, surprisingly soft but steel edged as if to drive her away. The way he’d done before.

  “We’re adults now. We can be anywhere we choose.”

  Jutting one hip, he tipped his hat with a thumb. His nostrils flared. “Ya think?”

  “You owe me a dance.”

  The reminder must have caught him off guard. Something flickered in his eyes, a brief flame of memory and pleasure that died just as quickly unborn.

  Jaw hard as flint, he said, “Better run home, little girl, before the big bad wolf gets you.”

  Before she could tell him that nothing he’d ever done would change what she knew that no other Buchanon understood, Jake spun away from her and slammed inside the house, leaving her standing in the front yard. Alone and embarrassed. Exactly like before.

  * * *

  He had as much right to be in this town as the Buchanons. Maybe more. His great-great-something on his daddy’s side had founded Gabriel’s Crossing back in the mid-1800s when Texas was a whole other country and the adjacent hills of Oklahoma were wilder than any bull he’d thrown his rope over.

  Jake banged his fist against the countertop of his family home. Right or not, being here would not be easy. Nearly broke, he needed to be working, and if that wasn’t enough to move him on, the Buchanon brothers were. And Allison. Especially Allison.

  But Granny Pat was his only living relative. Anyway, the only one that claimed him. She’d been his anchor most of his life, but now the tables had turned. She needed him, and he wouldn’t fail her, no matter how hard the weeks and months ahead.

  He’d wanted her to give up the Hamilton house to live with him in his trailer in Stephenville, but she’d wanted to come home. Home to Gabriel’s Crossing and the familiar old house that had been in the Hamilton family since statehood. He understood, at least in part. There was history here, joy and sorrow. He’d tasted both.

  Granny Pat had raised him single-handedly in this house after his daddy died and his mother ran off. Grandpa was here, too, his grandmother claimed, and though her husband had been dead for longer than Jake had been alive, she missed him. Ralph, according to Granny Pat, had never liked hospitals and hadn’t visited her in the convalescent center one single time.

  As if that wasn’t scary enough, who was the first familiar face Jake had to see in Gabriel’s Crossing? Allison Buchanon. His heart crumpled in his chest like a wad of paper tossed into a fire pit, withering to black ashes. Allison of the dark fluffy hair and warm brown eyes. She’d always seen more in him than anyone else had, especially her family. Foolish girl.

  Although as small as a child, Allison could hammer a nail as easily as she could back-flip from a cheerleading pyramid, an action that had sent his teenage chest soaring and turned his mouth dry as dust. And she’d broken that same young man’s heart with one sentence. My family would kill me if they saw us together.

  No, he’d said, they’d kill me. They’d have had every right, after what he’d done.

  The rodeo circuit attracted plenty of buckle bunnies and if a man was so inclined; he could have a new girl every night. With everything in him, Jake wanted to put Allison and her family behind him, but he never had. They mattered, and the wrong he’d done lay on his shoulders, an elephant-size guilt. No matter what Allison said, he’d
never been anyone’s hero.

  When he’d been a lonely boy living with his grandma, the Buchanons had been his dream family, a mom and dad, brothers and sisters. A boy with none of those yearned for the impossible. For a while, for those years when Quinn had been his best friend and Allison had thought he was the moon, he’d basked in the Buchanon glow.

  Allison. Why had she pulled into the driveway? And why had he been so glad to see her? Didn’t she remember the trouble they’d caused? That he’d caused?

  He rubbed a hand over the thick dust coating the counters, coating everything in the musty old house with the pink siding and dark paneling.

  He should have stuck to the rodeo circuit and stayed away from Gabriel’s Crossing for another nine or ninety years, but sometimes life didn’t give you choices. Four years ago, when he’d handed the reins to Jesus at a cowboy church in Cheyenne, he’d vowed to do the right thing from that moment on, no matter how much it hurt. Coming home to help Granny Pat was the right thing. And boy, did it hurt.

  He didn’t have enough money or time to be here. He needed to make every rodeo he could before the season ended, but Granny Pat came first. He’d figure out the rest. Somehow.

  Once his grandma was up and going, he’d get out of Dodge before trouble—in the form of a Buchanon—found him again.

  * * *

  No one in their right minds had seven kids these days. Which said a lot about her mother and father.

  The next afternoon, Allison pushed open the front door to her parents’ rambling split-level house on Barley Street and marched in without knocking. Nobody would have heard her anyway over the noise in the living room. The TV blared football between the Cowboys and the Giants while her dad and four brothers yelled at the quarterback and each other in the good-natured, competitive spirit of the Buchanon clan. Her stick-skinny younger sister Jayla was right with them, getting in her two cents about the lousy play calling by the offensive coordinator while Charity, the oldest and only married sibling, doled out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to her two kids.