Amish Christmas Mystery

by Samantha Price

  Amish Christmas Mystery

  Ettie Smith Amish Mysteries Book 10

  Samantha Price

  Copyright © 2016 by Samantha Price

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  ETTIE SMITH AMISH MYSTERIES

  About Samantha Price

  Chapter 1

  Elderly Amish widow Ettie Smith looked up from her needlework and stared at her older sister. They often sat together in the living room in silence while Ettie did her needlework and Elsa-May knitted.

  “This might be our last Christmas together.”

  “Why, where are you going?” Elsa-May asked without missing one purl or one plain.

  “I don’t plan on going anywhere, but we’re both older than most people we know, now that everyone else around your age and mine is dead. Other than the meetings, all we do these days is go to funerals of people younger than us.”

  “We won’t have a choice about that. When Gott calls us home, it’s our time to go.”

  “I’m simply saying it might be our last Christmas together.”

  “You say that every year and yet here we are, still alive and kicking on another Christmas Eve. Neither of us look like we’re about to take our last breath.”

  “One of these years I’m going to be right! And if it’s not this year it could be the next!” Ettie gave a sharp nod of her head as though she’d somehow proved her point.

  Elsa-May dropped her knitting into her lap and looked over the top of her knitting glasses. “What’s your point, Ettie? You usually have one when you prattle on like this.”

  "I was just wondering if you got me a Christmas present.”

  "Nee, nothing. We never get each other a gift for Christmas—not since we were young.”

  That wasn’t quite true. Every year Ettie had gotten Elsa-May something and gotten nothing in return. “I'd like you to get me something this Christmas because it might…”

  “Be our last together?” Elsa-May asked.

  “That’s right.”

  Elsa-May finished her row, and while one hand held her knitting, the other pushed her spectacles onto her forehead pushing back her prayer kapp. “And what is it you’d like for this Christmas present?”

  Ettie pressed her lips together so tight they formed a straight line. “Nothing if you’re going to speak like that.”

  Elsa-May rolled her eyes. “I was just asking a question. Do you have your mind set on something, or am I supposed to guess? You know Christmas is not very important to me."

  “Why can’t you ever get into the Christmas spirit and have some fun?”

  Elsa-May huffed. “Giving presents, and talk of Christmas is for the young. It wasn’t really the day that Jesus was born anyway. They’ve proven that. We should celebrate Jesus’ birth every day of the year not just on one day.”

  Ettie knew all Elsa-May’s talk was simply an effort to throw her off the track about getting her a present. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s the right day or not. It’s the day people choose to celebrate His birth, so isn’t it good that people do that tomorrow rather than not do it at all?” Ettie leaned forward waiting for her sister’s reply.

  “I guess so. You do have a point. What does it have to do with a gift, though?”

  Ettie shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “What? Are you saying you don’t want one now?”

  “That’s right.” Ettie picked up her sewing and jabbed the needle into the sampler while Elsa-May breathed out heavily.

  “Let’s go to the store, then. We’ll buy each other a gift, but only this once. Next year and the ones after that, we’ll make each other something.”

  Ettie’s face lit up. “Do you mean it?” Ettie could barely keep the smile from her face. And this could very well be their last. Elsa-May was likely to go first with her health issues, Ettie figured, and a gift would give Ettie something to look back on if Elsa-May wasn’t with her at the next Christmas.

  “Well?” Elsa-May asked.

  “It’s your turn to speak. I asked you if you meant it?”

  “Jah. I never say things I don’t mean.”

  “Let’s go.” Ettie watched Elsa-May’s eyes flicker to the gray sky out the window and then to Snowy, her small white fluffy dog who was curled up close to the fire in the corner of the room. “Leave him inside,” Ettie said.

  “I intended to.” After she’d placed the knitting in the bag by her feet, Elsa-May pushed herself out of her chair. “We’ll leave the dog door open so he can go out and do his business.”

  “I don’t think he’ll even know we’re gone. He’s been sleeping a lot lately.”

  “Must be the cold.”

  “Jah. We should be sure to wear some warm clothes in case it snows.”

  Ettie walked to her bedroom to get ready for their visit to the stores. It would be busy at the shops, and cold outdoors. When her husband had been alive, they had big family Christmas dinners where everyone would exchange gifts. Now he was gone, and most of her children had their own families to look after, and now she had great grandchildren. All of her children had stayed within the Amish community and made good marriages except for two of her daughters, Myra and Deborah.

  Ettie hadn’t spoken to either of her daughters for years. Both resented Ettie for raising them in the Amish community. It was as though they thought she’d been born into the Amish herself and married an Amish man, had children and raised them in the community simply to ruin their lives. They could choose when they came of age, and Myra and Deborah had both chosen to leave.

  Myra had gotten into a spot of bother a few years back and had contacted her, but after that was resolved she’d not kept in contact.

  Christmas was a sad time for Ettie. She’d gone from being a central person in her children’s lives to being someone on the outer fringes. Although all her children—apart from Myra and Deborah—and their offspring respected her, she was no longer the most important person in their lives. This situation never usually bothered her, but at this time of the year, her mind often drifted to days gone by.

  Ettie whipped off her dressing gown and pulled on her dress as quickly as she could to keep out the cold. It was hard to get out of her warm dressing gown on chilly days when they were only going to stay at home. After she pulled on two pairs of black stockings, her apron, cape and lastly her prayer kapp, she headed out to the living room to find her black over-bonnet.

  Waiting for her by the front door was Elsa-May, fully dressed and ready to go.

  “You were fast,” Ettie said.

  “I was dressed. I just had to put a warmer layer on.”

  “Maybe while we’re o
ut we can get some extra-special food for tomorrow?”

  “Why? It’ll only be just us, won’t it?”

  “Jah, but we can still have something nice to eat for the midday meal.”

  They’d both been invited to Elsa-May’s grandson’s house for a big family Christmas dinner.

  “If that’s what will make you happy, Ettie.”

  “Well, it’ll help. And it’ll also help if you try to be excited by it being this time of year. Everyone is celebrating and happy.”

  Elsa-May put her two forefingers either side of her mouth and stretched them up toward her ears to make a smile.

  Ettie laughed. “That’s much better. Now stay like that until tomorrow night.”

  Elsa-May opened the front door and a freezing draft of air swept through the house. “Are you certain you want to go out?”

  “Jah. And I want to come back and make candies and cookies to take with us tomorrow night.”

  “I’d forgotten all about that.”

  Ettie tapped a finger on her head. “Up here for thinking.”

  Both women stepped out of the house, closed the door behind them and hurried down the road to the shanty that housed the phone that everyone on their street used. From there, they would call for a taxi to take them to town.

  Ettie woke up on Christmas morning pleased that she'd reached the milestone of another Christmas day. Normally she would've stayed wrapped in her dressing down for a good part of the morning, but today she swiftly changed out of her nightdress, ready for a hearty breakfast.

  When she sat across from Elsa-May, she asked, “Will we open them now?”

  When they had gone shopping the day before, they’d gone in different directions so one could not see what the other was purchasing. In Ettie’s opinion the best part of a gift was the surprise.

  Elsa-May raised an eyebrow as she poured a cup of tea for herself from the teapot. "Do what?"

  "Open our presents now."

  "Why not wait until tonight before we go to Jeremiah and Ava’s?"

  "Are they expecting us? I never said I was going," Ettie said.

  "They're having a lot of people over there tonight so they won’t miss us if we’re not there. They said they’d expect us if they saw us. I'd like us to go, though. It's better than staying home and seeing no one for the whole of Christmas day.”

  Ettie sighed. Staying home would suit her perfectly with the weather as cold as it had been. "We've had so many invitations between Christmas and New Year it's been hard to know which ones to take.”

  Elsa-May nodded. "As much as I love the great grosskin I don't know if I could take all that crying and all that ruckus at my age.”

  Ettie giggled. "That's the best thing about being as old as we are, we’re not expected to do anything. We can always say we’re too tired.”

  "And that would be true,” Elsa-May said raising the teacup to her lips.

  "Well?" Ettie nodded to the two brightly wrapped presents commanding attention in the center of the table.

  Elsa-May stared at the gifts. "Do you want to open yours first?"

  "Nee, I want to see your face first before I open mine."

  "Okay." Elsa-May pushed her half eaten plate of eggs aside, reached out and took her present. She ripped the red and green paper open to reveal a set of knitting needles, a pattern and brown wool. Her eyebrows rose as she picked up the paper pattern.

  "It's for me,” Ettie explained.

  Elsa-May's head shot up. "What do you mean it's for you? It’s my gift."

  "The finished product will be a shawl for me so I can sit and do my needlework and have a warm soft shawl around my shoulders to keep me nice and cozy."

  Elsa-May's upper lip curled with disapproval. "Your present to me is something that I have to knit for you?"

  "That's right," Ettie said smiling.

  "How is that a gift for me?"

  "You're always making things for other people. And for the great grosskin, so I thought you would like to make something for me before your arthritis spreads further.”

  Elsa-May dropped the wool and the pattern onto the table. "How thoughtful of you."

  "I knew you'd like it." Ettie reached out her hand and touched the soft brown wool. "Normally I don't like the color brown, but this was so soft I couldn't resist it.”

  Elsa-May kept silent.

  "Shall I open mine now?" Ettie asked when she looked across at Elsa-May.

  Her sister gave a sweep of her hand. "Go ahead."

  Ettie was delighted. "It's lovely paper." Ettie stared at the bright gold Christmas bells on the dark green background.

  "I hope you like what's inside just as well as the paper."

  "I'm sure I will.” After she took the gift into her hands, she pulled the paper away to reveal tissue paper. Inside was a china cup, saucer, and plate set; Ettie could tell that by the shape of it. She carefully peeled the tissue paper away and saw it. "It's beautiful." She stared at the pale green set with the pink rosebuds as she set the plate down first, then the saucer and lastly set the cup onto the saucer. "It's quite possibly the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

  "I'm glad you like it."

  "I do. Denke. Can I use it now?"

  "Whenever you like. It’s yours.” Elsa-May then murmured, “Unlike my present."

  Ettie ignored her sister’s comment. She always found something to complain about. Once she started knitting, Ettie was sure Elsa-May would appreciate the gift and then when she was finished, she’d have the appreciation of seeing Ettie in the shawl. Ettie took the cup over to the sink and rinsed it out, then sat back down to pour herself a cup of tea. She brought the cup to her lips and took a sip. "It tastes much better in this cup.”

  "Good. I’m glad."

  Ettie looked at the pile of wool on the table. "I'm glad you like your present."

  Elsa-May drew her lips together as she stared at the wool.

  "You don't have to start on it today. Tomorrow will do," Ettie said.

  Elsa-May chuckled and Ettie smiled at the delight on her sister’s face. If her present gave Elsa-May such delight, she’d have to give her more like that.

  After Elsa-May and Ettie had finished washing up the morning dishes, Ettie asked, "Are we going to Jeremiahs or not?"

  "I've had so much joy from your present, I don't think I could take any more Christmas cheer.”

  "So we’re not going?" Ettie asked.

  “I think I’ll be happy enough to stay home.”

  “Me too. I’m happy to stay home in front of the fire. Maybe we’ll get some visitors dropping by.”

  “Weren’t you going to make some candy and cake? That would be useful in case we get some people stopping by like we normally do.”

  “Okay. I’ll get started on them now.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “Goodie!” Ettie rolled up her sleeves to get started. There was always excitement and happiness in the air at Christmas time. “I’m glad you like your present.”

  "Well, it's hardly my present is it?"

  Ettie stared at her sister. "What do you mean?"

  "You gave me a present that I have to knit, and then when I'm finished it, I have to hand it over to you."

  "Jah, that's right. I know how you like knitting.”

  Elsa-May’s gaze fell to the floor and then she looked at the ceiling as she shook her head.

  "What was that look for?" Ettie asked. Now she was confused. A minute ago, Elsa-May was acting like she loved her present and now Ettie didn’t know what she thought of it.

  Just as Elsa-May had her mouth open to speak, there was a knock at the door.

  "I wonder who this could be,” Ettie remarked as she took a step toward the door.

  “It could be Ava come to see if we're going tonight.”

  Ettie, nearly at the door, called over her shoulder, “I think she would be too busy preparing for her guests to come and see if we’re coming.” Once Ettie had pulled the door open, she saw her estranged daughter
, Myra, standing there with a plate of food in her hands.

  "Hello, Mother. I hope you don't mind that I've come early.”

  Ettie stood still with her mouth gaping open. She hadn't seen Myra for years.

  "Close your mouth, Mother, or you’ll catch flies. Well, are you going to let me in or what?"

  Ettie closed her mouth and stepped aside to allow her daughter inside.

  Elsa-May hurried over to her. “Myra, it's so good to see you. This is a surprise.”

  "You didn't think I'd come?"

  "Nee, I didn't.”

  Myra passed Ettie the food, while Elsa-May helped Myra out of her coat.

  "What's this?" Ettie asked looking down at the food.

  "Just food. Don't worry, it's something that I bought. I didn't actually cook it. That's just another reason I’m so different. I hate cooking. I would've never made a good Amish woman. Are you sure I wasn’t adopted?” Myra gave a small laugh.

  “Nee, I had too many kinner to think about adopting more.”

  “That’s a pity. It would’ve been the only thing to have made sense.”

  Elsa-May hung Myra’s coat on one of the pegs by the front door.

  Ettie stared at the brightly-colored flowing dress that her daughter was wearing. It was certainly a change from the business suits she wore when they were last in touch.

  "You're both well?" Myra asked as she sat down on the couch.

  "Jah, we’ve both been keeping well. Elsa-May has a spot of bother with arthritis in her hands and then she has…"

  “Don’t speak in Pennsylvania Dutch to me, Mother. It brings back bad memories, and it’s already all I can do to come here.”

  Ettie pushed her lips together. “I only said a couple of words.”

  "Also, Ettie, Myra didn't come here to listen to what's wrong with me health wise."