Christmas at Promise Lodge

by Charlotte Hubbard

  Amos wasn’t surprised that this subject wasn’t her favorite, considering that Marvin Schwartz had once broken her nose. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart,” he assured her as he reached for her hand. “But I might as well confess that when you’re out working in the garden plots, leaning over to pick beans or pumpkins or whatever, I stop what I’m doing to look at your nice backside.”

  Mattie’s quick intake of breath made him chuckle. He hoped she wasn’t ashamed of her body, as so many Plain women seemed to be.

  “Puh! I’ll be sure to figure out where you’re working, then, and point it in the other direction,” she said. But a hint of laughter had crept into her voice. “Maybe you should concentrate on your carpentry, Amos Troyer. You’ve been working a couple stories high, and that’s a long way to fall if you get distracted by the view.”

  “True enough,” he replied. “On Friday, we put the roof on the Kurtz place and then shingled it, so now the house is enclosed. Lester Lehman’s going to install the siding as soon as he’s finished bidding some jobs in Forest Grove. Seems the post office and mercantile want new windows.”

  “Jah, the Lehman brothers are more in demand than Floyd figured on when he was first checking us out,” she remarked. “And it’s a gut opportunity for Lester to complete his house before he moves his family here from Ohio, too—although his wife surely must miss him.” Mattie’s smile had returned now that he’d changed the subject, and she squeezed Amos’s hand. “It was a fine thing to see the walls of Roman’s house going up yesterday. Of course, while you were on the ladder I was mostly noticing how you have such broad, strong shoulders and hardly any backside at all.”

  Amos burst out laughing so loudly it startled his mare. “Easy there, Mabel,” he said, tightening the lines until the horse settled down. Then he smiled at Mattie. “What’s gut for the goose is gut for the gander, I guess.”

  “No guessing about it, Amos. You have the flattest pants I’ve ever seen—but your other endearing qualities make up for it.”

  “Glad you see it that way. Glad you look,” he added softly. It relieved him that Mattie’s sense of humor had returned, and that she’d left the conversational door open a crack on the matter of revisiting the way husbands and wives behaved behind closed doors. He would never, ever force her . . . might have to entice her past whatever fear or displeasure she’d experienced with Marvin.

  But for now, Amos wanted to concentrate on topics they both took pleasure in. “I enjoyed working with your boys yesterday,” he said. “Noah’s fast with a hammer—has such a deadly aim, I almost felt sorry for the nails.”

  Mattie chuckled. “Comes from his hours of welding—drawing a bead of solder so accurately—”

  “Not to mention his being a crack shot with his rifle. I doubt Rosetta would have any chickens left by now, had Noah not kept the coyotes in check.” Amos steered the horse onto the county highway and then over to the shoulder of the road, to stay clear of any cars. “I know he and Deborah were looking forward to their first weekend of collecting wedding gifts. It’s an exciting time for them.”

  Mattie nodded, a wistful expression on her dear face. “They’re a well-suited pair. I hope we’ll soon settle this matter of wives working at home, because Noah installed an extra-large double oven so Deborah could continue her baking business this winter.”

  Amos nodded, hoping to avoid the topic of Bishop Floyd’s ultimatums—which would put both of them in an unsuitable mood for such a fine autumn Sunday. The breeze was crisp enough that Mattie pulled her coat a little tighter, but she was gazing at the maples and oaks along the roadside, reveling in their crimson, gold, and orange foliage.

  “Seems she’s not the only one baking lately,” he remarked. “While we were working on Roman’s place yesterday, Gloria brought over a pan of bars, still warm enough that the chocolate chips were runny. It was a shame that when she took the first ones out of the pan, they either stuck to it or broke all to pieces.”

  “That happens when you don’t let them cool long enough.” Mattie chuckled. “I can just see Gloria getting frustrated and whiny while Roman made out as though he didn’t care one way or the other about her goodies.”

  “He didn’t encourage her, that’s for sure. Seemed put out that Gloria expected us to stop what we were doing and climb down from our ladders.”

  “Had it been Mary Kate bringing treats, Roman would’ve fallen all over himself and gobbled half the bars,” Mattie said with a soft chuckle. “But don’t tell him I said so. He thinks I don’t notice the way he gazes at her.”

  “Oh, to be the man all the young ladies adore,” Amos teased.

  “That was you once upon a time, Amos. All of us girls were so envious of Anna when she caught you.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Even you, although you’d married Marvin with his fine farmhouse?”

  “Especially me,” she murmured in a faraway voice. “You have no idea. From the first day, my marriage felt like a cage, and I felt like Marvin had thrown away the key. It . . . it wasn’t the life I’d hoped for when I was growing up.”

  Mattie’s haunting words made Amos’s throat tighten. Although it was pointless to relive their regrets from all those years ago, he still felt deeply sorry that he’d not been able to amass enough money to impress Mattie’s ambitious dat. Back in that day, so many young men had taken up carpentry that he’d been hard pressed to land enough jobs to keep body and soul together, much less support a wife. He and Anna had lived with her parents for nearly two years before he could afford a one-bedroom rental home down the road a ways from Coldstream.

  “I couldn’t have provided the life you deserved, Mattie,” he murmured. “No matter how much we loved each other then, it wasn’t meant to be. But now that we’ve done right by our first spouses, and endured our time of mourning, God’s brought us together again under much better circumstances. So, see?” Amos said in a brighter voice. “It all works out to the gut for them who love the Lord and keep His commandments.”

  “And what about Bishop Floyd’s commandments? What do you think I should do about my produce business, Amos?” Mattie asked as he steered the rig down a pathway into the woods. “As a preacher, you’re supposed to toe a higher mark than other folks. And as your wife, I’ll be expected to go along with whatever the bishop sees as God’s will for Promise Lodge—no matter how I envisioned our new colony when you and I and my sisters bought the property.”

  Amos considered his answer carefully as he parked the rig in an open area surrounded by cedar trees and crimson sumac bushes. He went around to help Mattie down, pleased that she’d waited for him when she was perfectly capable of stepping to the ground by herself. He stood before her for a moment, his hands remaining lightly at her waist as he gazed down at her. She smelled fresh and looked particularly pretty in a deep green dress that made her complexion glow—truly a temptation to a fellow who’d lived alone for too long.

  “I love you, Mattie,” Amos murmured. “I’m going to indulge in a single kiss and then I’ll behave myself while we talk this morning. So for now, clear your mind of all those things the bishop said at the wedding, all right?”

  Delight lit Mattie’s eyes as she reached for him. For a few blissful moments, Amos pressed his lips to hers and held her close, savoring her warmth . . . her eager response to his kiss. Too soon he released her, while his resolve remained strong.

  Mattie’s sigh told him that she, too, wanted more of such close contact, but she stepped away from him. “What a pretty spot. Sort of secluded,” she remarked as she looked around. “I’ve not explored this area much, so I have no idea where any of these trails in the woods might lead.”

  “It’s a guy thing, to look for potential spots where you can spend time alone with a special woman. And if you follow this trail a little farther, you’ll see a surprise.” Amos took Mattie’s hand, eager to show her what he’d discovered the other day when he’d followed a hunch. Two rabbits sprang from the underbrush at the side of the path
, and a woodpecker hammered a nearby tree, far above them. Amos held up a low branch so Mattie could walk beneath it. About twenty feet farther along the trail the view opened up.

  “Be careful—the ground drops away on the other side of that outcropping,” he warned as he squeezed her hand. “But tell me what you see.”

  Mattie took notice of the rocks he’d mentioned and leaned forward to gaze out beyond the woods. She sucked in her breath. “Why, there’s the lodge! And the cabins, all in a row,” she said with awe in her voice. “And there’s Rainbow Lake and the orchard, and the new road winding around between the plots we’ve sold to our new neighbors. Hah! And Queenie’s herding Harley’s sheep toward his new barn—just for the fun of it, I suppose.”

  Amos chuckled. “Harley had no idea he’d be getting a four-legged flock manager as part of the deal when he came here, but Queenie’s an instinctive sheepdog, it seems.”

  “It looks like a little toy town from this distance, ain’t so?” she whispered.

  “Our own little slice of paradise,” Amos said. “You probably didn’t realize that our property extends this far, to where we’re standing. When Truman and I staked out plots and drew our map to show potential residents, we didn’t include this rocky hillside or these woods because we figured no one would buy it. Gives us a nice buffer from the traffic and the adjoining property.”

  He studied Mattie’s face. She had a few gray strands in her dark brown hair, and some fine lines around her eyes—and a smile filled with wonderment—and to Amos, she’d never looked prettier. “Don’t you wonder what God thinks when He looks down at all of us?” she said softly. “It amazes me that we surely must appear so tiny and insignificant, yet He hears our prayers . . . and answers them.”

  “And that, dear Mattie, is why you and I are together now,” Amos whispered. “He answered my prayers—even if parts of His reply aren’t what I wanted to hear.”

  Mattie nipped her lip, glancing up at him. “Like the part where Floyd is telling us women to get rid of our businesses?” she said ruefully. “Has the bishop said anything more to you about what’s to happen to the produce stand? Or to Christine’s dairy herd and Rosetta’s apartments in the lodge?”

  “It would be the natural order of things for your husbands to assume ownership of your land and your businesses—at least in the more conservative Amish communities,” Amos replied quietly. “But I have no time or desire to take on the produce business you’ve established. The gardening season is the best time for me to be building homes for the folks who come to Promise Lodge.”

  “And what of Christine’s cows? When she meets a man to marry, will Roman lose his job when her husband takes over the dairy?” Mattie mused aloud. “And I can’t see any fellow managing apartments for single women—just as I can’t imagine Rosetta marrying anyone other than Truman.”

  “If Floyd has his way, Ruby and Beulah will have to move out rather than continue to live in a setting he considers unnatural.” Amos exhaled slowly, his eyes upon the cream-colored sheep that were now skittering across the pasture ahead of Noah’s dog. “In some ways, the bishop reminds me of Queenie—driving us this way and that at his whim, simply because he enjoys it . . . and because he can. But don’t ever tell him I said that,” he added quickly.

  “Of course I won’t. I don’t like being herded away from our original plans for Promise Lodge any better than you or my sisters do.” She let out a sigh. “I suppose it’s wrong to pray for God to intervene with some sort of lightning bolt or unmistakable warning to make Floyd change his mind.”

  Amos smiled. “Be careful what you pray for,” he quipped. “We take our chances when we ask God to do things our way—especially if it involves bringing someone hardship or disaster. And that’s what it would take to make Bishop Floyd change his tune. A major disaster.”

  “No, I don’t want that,” Mattie quickly clarified. “But a little slap upside the head to let Floyd know he’s going about things all wrong would be all right.”

  “And who are we to say he’s wrong? He’s following the more conservative ways of the Old Order, after all—and God did choose him for our community.”

  Mattie gazed up at Amos. “That’s what it always comes down to, ain’t so? The belief that our male leaders carry out God’s purpose.”

  Amos badly wanted to kiss away the resignation on Mattie’s face. She was a steadfast, God-fearing woman who would never knowingly defy His will, and he wanted her to be happy—to be fruitful and multiply, whether that be by raising his children or by producing vegetables that made good use of the fertile soil she’d been blessed with.

  “How about if we take a look at what’s inside your picnic basket?” he asked softly. “All this serious talk’s making me hungry.”

  Mattie smiled as they turned around and headed back toward the buggy. “Are you saying that whenever I want to redirect opinions I don’t like, I can just feed you?” she teased. “That seems easy enough.”

  “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Amos pointed out. “But then, you won my heart a long time ago, dear. You could probably put dirt clods and earthworms on my plate, and I’d be too caught up in my love for you to notice.”

  Mattie’s smile warmed him like the sunshine that filtered through the trees. “Today we’ve got fried chicken, dinner rolls, slaw, apple salad, and pumpkin pie. But I’ll keep your idea about dirt clods and worms in mind, should I ever need to get your attention,” she teased.

  Amos took the picnic basket from the buggy and handed her an old quilt to spread on the ground. “Oh, you’ve always got my attention,” he said with a chuckle. “And to keep your mind from wandering, how soon would you like to get married? If you want me to court you for a while, I’ll be happy to—”

  “November twenty-first,” Mattie replied without missing a beat.

  Amos’s heart turned a cartwheel. Her immediate answer suggested that she was even more eager to become his wife than he’d anticipated. “That’s your birthday, as I recall,” he said while they sat down on the quilt. “It’s not quite two weeks away. Will that give you ladies enough time to prepare for another wedding meal? I don’t want you to feel I’m rushing you into this.”

  Mattie chuckled as she took the lids from the bowls of slaw and apple salad. “You saw how well everyone worked together at Noah’s and Deborah’s party. And you and I have known each other for most of our lives, after all,” she pointed out. “Once I realized I was wrong to compare you to Marvin, or to assume marriage to you would be anything like the years I spent with him, everything fell into place and my heart fluttered open. I’m ready, Amos. I love you.”

  “Oh, Mattie,” he whispered as he grabbed her hands. “We’ll make a wonderful life together. You’ll see!”

  “We will,” Mattie murmured with a decisive nod. She squeezed his fingers as she returned his gaze, a gesture that suggested she wanted to hold on to him forever.

  Sunlight shimmered on her dark hair and the breeze played with her long kapp strings. Mattie looked younger and happier than she had in years—even more beautiful than when he’d adored her as a young girl—and Amos knew he’d remember this special moment forever.

  Chapter Six

  Sunday afternoon, Rosetta lingered in the kitchen after the noon meal’s dishes were done, hoping the phone would ring. Bishop Floyd had allowed her and her sisters and renters to keep the phone in the lodge kitchen because so many people shared it. Even so, it was silly to think Truman might return the message she’d left him only ten minutes earlier, because he often took his mother to afternoon activities at their Mennonite fellowship hall on Sundays. But the idea Rosetta wanted to discuss with him made her feel as bubbly as a bottle of soda somebody had shaken.

  Mattie was getting married!

  Rosetta still felt giddy after hearing the news. Mattie had come home from her picnic and announced that she and Amos planned to marry on the twenty-first—not even two weeks from today! Mattie’s face had been aglo
w as she’d entered the lodge, and Amos had worn a smile that suggested the two of them had talked about many important issues, and perhaps had done a little smooching, as well. Rosetta thought it was wonderful that the two of them had rekindled the love they’d shared years ago. If anyone deserved a happy life with a steadfast, affectionate man, it was Mattie.

  Rosetta reached for the folder of recipes she’d torn from The Budget and had jotted on odd scraps of paper. If she looked for something new to bake, at least she’d have a feasible reason to be in the kitchen—besides waiting for Truman to call. The Kuhn sisters were napping. Mattie had gone upstairs to share her news with Christine, Laura, and Phoebe. Preacher Marlin and his family were taking a walk around the Promise Lodge property to enjoy the fine fall weather, and all the Lehmans were spending the day at the bishop’s new house. As winter approached and the ground got covered with snow, Rosetta suspected the lodge building wouldn’t be as busy, because most folks would be eating meals and spending their evenings in their homes.

  With Mattie moving to Amos’s place, Rosetta was glad she’d have Ruby and Beulah for company this winter. She was a bit disappointed that more unattached Plain ladies hadn’t written to say they’d move to—

  The ring of the phone made Rosetta jump. She laughed as her recipes fluttered to the floor with the swish of her skirt. “Jah, hello?” she said as she grabbed the phone. “Promise Lodge Apartments. This is Rosetta speaking.”

  A chuckle tickled her ear. “Jah, dearie, I’m old and alone and I’d like to rent a room at your place,” the caller said. Her voice had an odd timbre to it, as though this lady might’ve suffered some damage to her vocal chords.

  “You’re in luck,” Rosetta said. Maybe her prayer for more tenants was about to be answered! “We still have several rooms with nice views. We can convert them into apartments or—”

  “I’ll be right over to check them out,” Truman said in his normal voice. “But I suppose I’d have to wear a dress to live there, wouldn’t I?”