An Amish Wife For Christmas

Something about the sparkle in his blue eyes invited her to smile back at him but she firmly resisted the urge. She stabbed the pitchfork into the remaining hay and left it standing upright. “I’m glad I could supply you with some amusement today.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had something to smile about.”

The clatter of hooves outside caught her attention as a horse and wagon pulled up beside the barn and stopped. She caught a glimpse of the driver through the open door. He stood and faced the barn. “Ivan Martin, are you in there? It’s Jedidiah Zook. I want to speak to you!”

Her gaze shot to Michael. His grin widened. Her heart sank as he chuckled. “I may not have given Clarabelle enough credit. It seems your preferred beau has arrived. It was Jedidiah Zook you hoped would come courting, right?”

She glared and shook a finger at him. “Don’t you dare repeat one word of what you heard in here.”

* * *

Michael couldn’t help teasing her. The high color in her cheeks and the fire in her eyes told him she was no meek Amish maid. He wagged his eyebrows. “Do you need a go-between? Shall I speak on your behalf? I’ll be happy to help any way I can.”

“If you say anything, I’ll...I’ll...” She clamped her lips closed. The sheen of unshed tears gathered in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them back and raised her chin.

Teasing was one thing. Upsetting her was another. He held up one hand. “Relax. Your secret is safe with me. If the cow spills the beans, that is not my fault.”

“Stay here.” Bethany rushed past him out the wide double doors. “Guder mariye, Jedidiah. Ivan isn’t in here. He’s at school. Can I be of any help?”

“Your brother has gone too far this time.”

The man’s angry voice brought Michael closer to the open door to watch. Bethany faced Jedidiah defiantly with her head up and her hands on her hips. “What has he done?”

“Two thirty-pound bags of potatoes and a ten-pound bag of dried beans are missing from my cellar.”

“What makes you think Ivan took them?”

“Because he sold a bag of potatoes to the general store owner just this morning.”

She folded her arms in front of her. “That’s not proof he took them. Maybe it was one of our sacks that he sold.”

“Was it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You tell him I came by and that I’m on my way to report this theft to the bishop. This has gone beyond what can be ignored. It must stop. If you can’t control the boy someone else will have to.” He lifted the reins, turned the wagon around and headed down the lane.

Michael limped out to stand beside her. “Not a very jolly fellow. Are you sure he’s the one?”

She shot him a sour look. “In spite of what you think you heard earlier, I am not in the market for a husband.”

Why wasn’t she married already? She was certainly attractive enough. Not that he was in the market for a relationship. He wasn’t. He might never be. He sobered at the thought. The men who shot him and robbed the store he had worked may have robbed him of a family, too. He had no idea if his PTSD would get better living in the isolation of northern Maine, but it was his last option.

Bethany brushed past him into the barn, a fierce scowl marring her pretty features. “I need to speak to my brother and get to the bottom of this. You are welcome to rest here.”

He was glad he wasn’t the brother in question. She went down the aisle and opened the stall door of a black mare with a white blaze. She led the mare out, tied the horse to a hitching post and began to harness her.

“Let me do that for you.” He took a step closer.

“I can manage,” she snapped.

He took a step back and held one hand up. She didn’t need or want his help. In short order she had the harness on and then led the animal outside, where she backed the mare in between the shafts of the buggy parked in a lean-to at the side of the building.

“May I?” he asked, pointing to the buggy. She nodded. He finished securing the traces on one side while she did the other. He buckled the crupper, the loop that went around the mare’s tail to keep the harness from sliding forward on the animal, as Bethany finished her side and came to check his work.

“Danki.”

She thanked him like it was a chore. Bethany Martin was clearly used to doing things by herself.

Michael realized that he hadn’t looked over his shoulder once since hearing Bethany’s voice. That had to be some kind of record. He glanced around out of habit but there was nothing sinister in the farmstead and empty snow-covered fields that backed up to wooded hills on either side of the wide valley. All throughout his trip to New Covenant he’d been on edge, expecting danger from every stranger that came close to him. He’d spent most of the bus ride from Philadelphia with sweating palms and tense muscles, expecting another attack or a flashback to overtake him at any second. They never came when he was expecting them.

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. For the first time in weeks the knots in his neck and shoulders were missing. Maybe he was getting better. Maybe this move was the right thing, after all. He prayed it was. Nothing here reminded him of the Philadelphia street or the shop where his life had changed so drastically.

Here the air was fresh and clean. The next house was several hundred yards up the road. Nothing crowded him. He could start over here. No one would look at him with pity or worse. He had a job waiting for him in New Covenant and a place to live all thanks to the generosity of a man he’d never met. He needed to get going, but he was reluctant to leave Bethany’s company for some reason. Her no-nonsense attitude was comforting. He pushed the thought aside. “I should be on my way. Can you give me directions to Elijah Troyer’s farm?”

She shot him a startled look and then glanced away. “This was his farm,” she said softly with a quiver in her voice.

“Was? He sold it?” Michael waited impatiently for her to speak.

She kept her gaze averted. “I’m sorry but Elijah Troyer passed away three weeks ago.”

Michael drew back with a sharp intake of breath. “He’s dead? That can’t be.”

He fought against the onrush of panic. What about the job? What about the place to live? Were his hopes for a new life dead, too?

Chapter Two

Bethany watched as Michael limped away and sat down on the hay bale inside the barn door. He rubbed his face with both hands. She could see he was deeply affected by the news of her grandfather’s death. Sympathy made her soften her tone. “I’m sorry to give you the sad news. Did you know my grandfather well?”

Michael shook his head. “I never met him.”

If he didn’t know her grandfather, why was he so shaken by his passing? As much as she wanted to stay and find out Michael’s connection to Elijah, she had to speak to Ivan as soon as possible. If he had stolen the potatoes and beans as Jedidiah claimed, the items would have to be returned at once, but there had to be some mistake. Her brother wasn’t a thief.

Please let it be a mistake, Lord.

The bishop would never reconsider sending Ivan to live with Onkel Harvey if Jedidiah’s claim was true.

She slipped the reins through the slot under the winter windshield of the buggy. “I’m sorry you didn’t have a chance to meet my grandfather. He was a wonderful man.”

“He offered me a job working for him. Is that job still available?”

“I know nothing about such an offer. Are you sure it was my grandfather who promised you work?”

“Elijah Troyer, in New Covenant, Maine. That’s what the letter said. Is there another Elijah Troyer in the community?”

“There is not. I don’t know what my grandfather had in mind, but I can’t afford to hire someone right now.”

“I was also told I would have a place to stay. I reckon if there’s no job there’s no lodging, either?”

Was he talking about the small cabin that sat at the back of her property? Her grandfather had mentioned readying it for a tenant before he became ill, but she didn’t know if he had finished the repairs. Besides, she wasn’t ready to host a lodger. Nor did she want to leave Michael Shetler like this. He appeared dazed and lost. Her heart went out to him.

“You should speak to our bishop, Elmer Schultz. I’m sure he can help. He won’t be at home this time of day, but I can give you a ride to his place of business.”

“It seems I don’t have much choice. Danki.”

Michael slowly climbed into the passenger seat. Bethany walked around the back and got in on the driver’s side. She picked up the reins. “The school is about three miles from here.”

“I thought we were going to the bishop’s place of business.”

“We are but I must stop at the school first. I hope you don’t mind.”

“As long as I don’t have to walk three miles I don’t mind.”

From the corner of her eye Bethany noticed him rubbing his leg frequently. It must pain him a great deal. This close to him she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept well. He was pale, too. She sat silent for the first half mile of their trip but her curiosity about Michael got the better of her. “Where are you from?”

“My family lives in Holmes County, Ohio. My father and brother have a construction business in Sugarcreek.”

“Did you work in construction with them?”

“Nee.” He didn’t elaborate.

“I’ve heard that’s a large Amish community. Do you have a lot of tourists who visit there?”

“We do.”

“Like where I am from. Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania. My grandfather wanted to start a community that wasn’t dependent on tourism. Don’t get me wrong, he knew how important the industry is to many Amish who can’t make a living farming, but it wasn’t the lifestyle he wanted to live.”

Michael pulled his coat tighter. “There had to be warmer places to settle.”

She chuckled as she looked out over the snow-covered fields that flanked the road. “The coldest part of the winter has yet to come.”

“So why here?”

“The price of land and the ability to purchase farms large enough to support big families were more of a consideration than the weather. Plus, we were warmly welcomed by the people here. Many local families have been here for generations. They like the idea that we want to be here and farm for generations, too. A lot of the elders in the community remember farming with horses when they were children. Folks are very independent minded in Maine. They know what hard work is. When someone has to sell farmland they would rather sell it to the Amish because we will live on it and farm it as their grandparents did. They consider it preferable to selling to a large farming corporation intent on grabbing up as much land as possible.”

“What do you grow here besides snowdrifts?”

She smiled. “Potatoes. Maine is the third-largest producer of potatoes in the United States. Broccoli grows well in the cool climate as do many other vegetables.”

“As long as you don’t get an early freeze.”

“That’s true of farming in Ohio or almost anywhere.”

“I guess you’re right about that.”

The main highway followed the curve of the river and after another mile Fort Craig came into view. Bethany turned off the highway into a residential area at the outskirts of town. The elementary school was located in a cul-de-sac at the end of the street.

As she drew the horse to a stop in front of the school she noticed several of the classes were out at recess. She stepped down from the buggy and caught sight of her sister, Jenny, playing with several other girls on the swings. Jenny spotted her and ran over. “Sister, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to speak to Ivan. Did he get on the bus with you this morning?”

Jenny shook her head. “Nee, he said Jeffrey’s mom was going to bring him to school.”

“And did she?”

“I don’t know. Sister, I have wunderbar goot news.”

Bethany crouched to meet Jenny’s gaze. “Have you seen Ivan today?”

Jenny screwed up her face as she concentrated. “I don’t think so. You should ask his teacher.”

Bethany stood upright. “That’s exactly what I plan to do.”

“Don’t you want to hear my news?”

“In a minute.”

Jenny’s happy expression faded. Michael got out of the buggy. He took several stiff steps. “I just need to stretch my legs a little.”

“Who is that?” Jenny asked in a loud whisper.

Bethany was inpatient to find Ivan but she made the introduction. “This is Michael Shetler. He’s a newcomer. This is my sister, Jenny.”

He nodded toward her. “I’m pleased to meet you, Jenny. I’d love to hear your news.”

“You would?” Jenny asked hopefully.

“Sure. It must be important. You look ready to burst.”

Jenny smiled from ear to ear. “I got picked to be in the community Christmas play. I’m going to be the aerator.”

Bethany looked at Michael. He returned her questioning gaze and shook his head slightly. Jenny was bouncing up and down with happiness.

Bethany smiled at her. “That is wunderbar. What does the aerator do?”

“I get to tell everyone the Christmas story in English and in Pennsylvania Dutch while the other kids act out the scenes. Ivan is going to sing a song by himself.”

From the corner of her eye, Bethany saw Michael rub a hand across his mouth to hide a grin. Bethany was afraid she’d start laughing if she looked at him again. Learning English as a second language was difficult for many Amish children who spoke only Pennsylvania Dutch until they started school. “I’m sure you will make a goot narrator if you practice hard.”

“I’ll practice lots and lots if you help me.”

“You know I will.”

“I need to have an angel costume, too. I’m going to be an angel aerator.”

“Angel narrator,” Michael corrected her in a gentle tone.

“Narrator,” Jenny replied slowly. He nodded and she grinned at him.

Bethany patted her sister’s head. “We’ll talk about it when you come home from school this evening.”

“Okay.” Jenny took off to rejoin her friends.

“Cute kid,” Michael said, still grinning. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Just Jenny and Ivan. Excuse me while I check on him.” Bethany headed through the front doors of the school. She found the eighth-grade room and looked in through the open door. Ivan wasn’t in his seat. His best friend, Jeffrey, was missing, too.

A bell sounded in the empty hall, startling her. The boys and girls in the room filed to the back to gather their coats, mittens and hats from hooks before rushing past her to get outside. After the last child exited the room Bethany stepped inside. “Ms. Kenworthy, may I have a word with you?”

The teacher looked up from her desk. “Miss Martin, of course. Do come in. I was just getting ready to write a note to you.”

“About Ivan?”

“Yes. I hope he is feeling better. He’s missed almost an entire week of school. I have a list of homework assignments for him to complete and hand in when he returns.”

Bethany’s heart sank. “My brother is not sick at home.”

“I see.” Ms. Kenworthy opened a desk drawer and pulled out a sheet of notebook paper. “Then I assume you did not write this note?”

Bethany removed her gloves, took the note and quickly scanned it. It informed Ms. Kenworthy that Ivan would be out of school for a week due to his illness. It was signed with her name. Bethany sighed heavily and handed the letter back. “I did not write this. It is not my signature.”

Ms. Kenworthy took the letter and replaced it in the drawer. “I thought it was odd that Jeffrey was the one who delivered it to me and not your sister. Do you know what Ivan has been doing instead of coming to school?”

“I wish I did. He doesn’t confide in me these days.”

“He was close to his grandfather, wasn’t he?”

The understanding in the teacher’s eyes allowed Bethany to unburden herself. “They were very close. Since Elijah’s death Ivan has refused to talk to me about what’s troubling him. He’s changed so much. I was hoping he might have confided in you.”

“I am deeply sorry for your loss. Elijah was well liked in this community.”

“Thank you.”

“Your brother’s grades were not the best before your grandfather passed away. Since that time, he has earned nothing but Fs for incomplete work. Even when he is here he seems withdrawn until someone speaks to him. Then he’s ready to start a fight over nothing. Unless he does extra-credit work and turns in his missing assignments, I’m afraid he is going to flunk the semester. I know that according to your religion this is his last year of education, but I still have to follow state guidelines. That puts me between a rock and a hard place. If he flunks the semester, he’ll have to attend summer school.”

Bethany shook her head. “Ivan will be needed on the farm this summer. I don’t see how we could spare him even a few hours a day.”

“In that case he will have to repeat this grade next year. Talk to him. Try to make him see what’s at stake.” She removed a folder from another drawer. “Give these assignments to him. Hopefully he can finish most of them over the weekend.”

“I will. Thank you.” Bethany was angry with Ivan for his deceit, but she was more disappointed in herself. Where had she gone wrong? How had she failed him? She tried to be a parent to her siblings but without her grandfather’s help she didn’t know how to reach Ivan. Maybe letting him return to Pennsylvania would be for the best.

Except that it didn’t feel like the right solution. She loved her brother. She couldn’t imagine life without his annoying habits, constant teasing and his hearty laugh. She had to make him see that his actions were tearing the family apart.

But she needed to find him first. Clearly Jeffrey was in on whatever Ivan was up to. His parents lived a mile farther up into the woods from her home.

Bethany left the school building and saw Michael sitting on the buggy step. She’d forgotten him. A thin yellow hound lay a few feet away from him. The dog wagged its tail tentatively as it watched him. Michael pulled his gloves off and took something from his pocket. He held it toward the dog. The animal crept a few inches closer.

“Good girl,” Michael said, tossing the item at the dog’s feet. She snapped it up. At the sound of Bethany approaching, the dog darted for cover between two nearby parked cars.

Bethany stopped beside Michael. The dog grew bold enough to peek out from between the cars but didn’t approach. “I see you made a new friend.”

He rose to his feet. “She was sniffing at the trash cans and trying to get them open. I could see she was looking for a meal. I had a little leftover jerky I picked up on the bus ride here. She appears to need it more than I do. Is your brother at school?”

“Nee, but that doesn’t prove he stole provisions from Jedidiah.”

“You’re still giving him the benefit of the doubt?”

“Of course. He’s my brother.”

“I hope your confidence isn’t misplaced.”

“I pray it’s not but I will admit I’m at my wit’s end. His teacher says he hasn’t been to school all week. His friend gave the teacher a note that was signed with my name that said he was sick at home. I have to find out what’s going on. He’s left each morning to catch the school bus with his sister and he’s walked home with her each evening, yet he hasn’t been in school.”

“Don’t think too badly of him. Boys his age are sometimes impatient to grow up and live their own adventures. Then they make foolish mistakes because they aren’t as smart as they think they are.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“I am. My own.”

“How many forged notes did you send to your teacher?”

A wry grin curved his lips. “My teacher happened to be my mother’s youngest sister, so none.”

“I’m afraid of what the bishop will say when Jedidiah tells his side of the story.”

“If the bishop is a reasonable man he’ll listen to your side of the story, as well.”

She was grateful for his reassurance, but he didn’t know how serious the situation was becoming. She held on to the hope that her uncle could be persuaded to let Ivan remain with her. “I will take you to see the bishop now.”

“I appreciate that.” He moved to open the buggy door for her and took her hand to help her in.

His grip was firm but his hand was soft. His skin lacked the calloused roughness of a man who made his living farming the land or woodworking. It wasn’t the hand of a laborer, yet she found his gentle strength oddly comforting.

Perhaps he was a shopkeeper. Her grandfather had had plans to open a small grocery in New Covenant. Maybe that was the job he had promised Michael. It didn’t matter. Her grandfather was gone, and she wasn’t in a position to continue his work. At least not yet.

She looked up and met Michael’s gaze as he continued to hold her hand longer than necessary. There was a profound sadness in the depth of his eyes that she didn’t understand. What troubled him? What was he thinking?

* * *

Michael stared into Bethany’s light blue eyes as the warmth of her touch went all the way to the center of his chest and warmed a place that had been cold for a long time. He studied her face, trying to find out why she triggered such a strong reaction in him.

Her pale blond hair was parted in the middle and worn under a white prayer covering. Her skin was fair with a scattering of freckles across her dainty nose. She was an attractive woman, too attractive for his peace of mind.

He let go of her hand, stepped away and limped around the back of the buggy, letting the pain in his leg remind him of why he had no business thinking about how perfectly her small hand had nestled in his. If things had been different, if he wasn’t so damaged he would have enjoyed getting to know her better, but things weren’t different. He had to accept that.

He also had more serious things to think about. He needed a job and he needed somewhere to live. Preferably a good distance away from other people in this remote community. His neighbors wouldn’t appreciate being awakened in the middle of the night by the screams that sometimes accompanied his nightmares.

Thoughts of his dreams filled him with apprehension as his pulse shot up. He quickly scanned his surroundings. A car drove past the school, the tires crunching on the snow. Children were playing on the playground. He could hear their laughter and shouting. Someone stood at the corner of the school building. He thought it was a woman but he couldn’t be sure. The person was bundled in a parka with the hood up. Perhaps a teacher watching the children. He struggled to convince himself that there was nothing sinister here but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad would happen at any second. His heart began to pound as tightness gripped his chest.

The dog ventured out and came to stand in front of him. He focused on her unusual golden eyes. She looked to be part yellow Labrador retriever and part pointer. Her white-tipped tail wagged slowly. He held out his hand and she sniffed it. It was a shame he didn’t have more to feed her. She retreated again and he got in Bethany’s buggy.

Inside the small space he started to relax. No one could get behind him now. He glanced at Bethany. She was watching him intently. Could she see how anxious he was? He needed to divert her attention. “Are you waiting for something?”

“Nee.” She turned the horse and headed back up the street. The clip-clop of the mare’s hooves was muffled by the snow that covered the road. It was the only sound other than the creaking of the buggy. He discovered he would rather hear Bethany’s voice.

“What kind of business does the bishop own?”

“Our bishop builds and sells storage sheds as well as farming, but he’s thinking of branching out into tiny homes.”

“Then he is a progressive fellow?”

“In his business, but our church is a conservative one.”