The Cousin (Doris's Christmas Story Book 1) Read online

  “Jah, Aenti?”

  “Come on down. Your onkel wants to have Bible reading and prayers now.”

  Doris stood up and smoothed down her apron. She quite liked Bible reading time with her uncle. Eli’s voice was deep and resonant and when he read the Scriptures, it sounded just as she imagined God himself would sound.

  “Coming,” she called back to Eliza and left her room.

  * * *

  Matthew Wanner gathered up the eggs and placed them in the bowl he was carrying.

  “Not many today,” he told the clucking hens. “Too cold for you, huh?”

  He laughed and made his way to the door of the coop, trying not to step on any of the hens that swarmed his legs.

  “This ain’t going to be hardly enough for breakfast,” he scolded them with amusement. “Now, I expect better tomorrow morning, you hear?”

  His comments were met with cackles and fluttering as he let himself out of the coop. He went back to the house, entering through the side door.

  “Well?” Verna called from the kitchen.

  Matthew took off his heavy boots and padded into the kitchen in his woolen socks.

  “Sorry, Mamm.” He looked down at the bowl and counted. “Only five this morning.”

  “Five? Lands sake. Them hens are going to have to do better than that to earn their keep.”

  Matthew laughed. “You love those chickens like pets, and you know it.”

  Verna laughed with him. “So I do,” she said. “So I do.”

  Matthew handed her the bowl and peered through the dining area to the front room. “Dat in there?”

  Verna shrugged. “Don’t rightly know where he is.”

  Verna and Nathaniel Yoder weren’t Matthew’s real parents, but they certainly treated him like their own son. They had ever since he’d come to live with them at the age of ten after his parents were killed in a buggy accident.

  Verna continued, “He might be out in the barn. Didn’t you see him out there?”

  “Nee, but I didn’t go in the barn, just out to the coop.”

  “He’ll be in, don’t you worry. Once I get to frying up them eggs, he’ll come a running.” She chuckled. “That man has the nose of a hound.”

  “That he does,” Matthew agreed with a smile.

  “I hear your cousin is coming home.”

  Her simple words set Matthew’s heart racing. Doris was coming home? When? Of course, Doris wasn’t his real cousin, but for all intents and purposes she was ever since he’d come to live with the Yoders.

  “Is she?” he asked, careful to keep his tone neutral.

  “That’s what I hear.” Verna shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Never did see the point in sending her off in the first place.”

  Matthew stopped moving. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s just so much stuff and nonsense,” she said. “As if sending her off would stop it.”

  “Stop what?” Matthew asked, truly concerned now. What in the world was Verna talking about?

  “All this nonsense with the Lehman boy?”

  “You mean Jordan? The one who’s in jail?”

  “The very same.”

  “But what does he have to do with Doris?”

  Verna frowned. “Where have you been, son? Weren’t you around when Henrietta was going on and on about it? Goodness, but my sister can get wound up sometimes. Not that I blame her, though.”

  “Blame her for what?” Matthew’s exasperation mounted. How was Doris connected with Jordan? Why would she— His breath caught. Was she…? Did she…? He swallowed hard.

  “I wouldn’t be too happy neither if my daughter was sweet on Jordan Lehman. Ach, I always thought he was an all right sort of boy. But this stealing business… And being in jail… It’s a disgrace is what it is. A total disgrace.”

  Matthew grabbed Verna’s arm. “Doris is sweet on Jordan Lehman?” He could hardly stomach the thought. And why in the world hadn’t he known this?

  But in truth, he never stuck around to hear Verna gossiping with Henrietta. He remembered when she’d visited shortly before Doris went off to Hollybrook. And if he thought hard, he did somewhat remember her looking upset. But still… He had chores to do outside. He didn’t sit and sip tea with the women.

  “Why do you think Doris went off to Hollybrook? Why do you think she missed our family Thanksgiving?”

  “I… I thought she was just visiting Aenti Eliza. I never thought there was anything else to it.” But he’d missed Doris. In truth, quite a lot. The two of them always had a good time together, teasing each other and laughing and joking. Doris was always a breath of fresh air as far as he was concerned. He and Doris had always had a special connection. Years ago, Nathaniel used to scold him for not spending enough time with Doris’s brothers, but truth be told, he’d always enjoyed himself more with Doris.

  “Well, there was something more to it. I think Eliza was supposed to find a nice eligible young man for Doris there in Hollybrook.”

  Matthew nearly gagged. What was this? “Did she?” he asked, wincing at his hard tone. “Did she find a young man for Doris?”

  “I don’t know all the details,” Verna told him, bending to retrieve the iron skillet from the bottom cupboard. “But don’t you fret. I’ll get all the details from Henrietta soon.”

  She laughed, and Matthew did his best to put a smile on his face. And then he made a quick exit up to his room. He dug in the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out the few letters he’d gotten from Doris while she’d been away. He opened them and scanned them for pertinent information.

  She’d rattled on and on about Eliza and Eli, making him smile at her rendition of events. She’d also talked about the weather, the local bishop, and also Hollybrook itself. There had been no mention of either Jordan or any eligible men. He dropped the letters onto his lap and stared at the wall. He thought she told him everything.

  What a fool he was.

  Maybe he didn’t know Doris as well as he thought he did. How in the world had he missed the fact that she was sweet on Jordan? Did that mean they were courting? Did that mean she wanted to marry him?

  He stood up and started pacing. Ach, but this was terrible.

  She’s your cousin, he reminded himself.

  But she wasn’t. Not really. They had no blood ties at all. He stood at his window and looked out at the frozen ground. Nothing stirred. The bare branches of the trees stretched up to the sky, motionless. The grass had turned brown and the flowerbeds were empty, patches of brown dirt lying barren. The sky was gray and thick. It was going to snow again, for sure and for certain.

  He turned away, even more restless now. That was the thing of it—winter. The outside chores slowed down to a dribble, leaving men with not as much to do. And right then, he had to do something.

  Wood. Verna was always fussing about the firewood, stewing that they were going to run out. He’d chop wood. Inhaling deeply, he strode to his bed and snatched up Doris’s letters, cramming them back into his nightstand. Then he hurried downstairs and grabbed his coat from the washroom.

  “I’m going out to chop wood,” he called out to Verna. Then he went out into the blasting cold and looked for the axe.

  Chapter Three

  Eliza reached out and smoothed Doris’s hair at the side of her kapp—a completely unnecessary gesture as Doris had already checked it herself not ten minutes before.

  “I, well, it’s been gut to have you here,” Eliza told her, her usually high-pitched voice low and thick.

  “Don’t cry, Aenti,” Doris said. “We had a right nice time, ain’t so?”

  “Did you?” Eliza asked. “Did you have a gut time?”

  “Of course, I did,” Doris said. “And I certainly enjoyed some really tasty meals.”

  “You cooked half of them.”

  “Like I said—really tasty meals.”

  They both laughed, and Eliza gave her a quick hug.

  “You don’t need no reason to come back,
you know,” Eliza told her.

  “You mean like trying to find me a man?” Doris couldn’t help but tease her. “Or trying to get me to forget a man?”

  “Ach, child. You’re terrible.” Eliza shook her head, but Doris could tell how much she didn’t want to see her go. “Now, you write when you get home. And you tell that sister of mine that she could be writing more often herself.”

  “I’ll tell her.”

  “You know Linder Creek ain’t so far away. You could come back in the new year and visit a spell. You know, when all this blows over. I quite got used to having you around.”

  Doris grabbed Eliza’s hand. “I got used to having you around, too,” she said. And it was true; she was going to miss her aunt—despite her busybody ways.

  Eliza sniffed. “Enough of this now. Your ride is waiting.”

  “I could have taken the bus, you know.”

  “You could have. But your onkel and me, well, we wanted you to have a real comfortable ride back home.”

  Doris glanced at the white van that was waiting for her.

  “I better go.”

  “Jah. You better go. Gut-bye, child.”

  “Gut-bye, Aenti.” Doris was surprised that she was near tears, too. But it had been a nice visit. And if she couldn’t have seen Jordan anyway, she was just as happy to spend her days in Hollybrook as in Linder Creek. This way, at least, she hadn’t been forced to see the look of worry and censure in her mother’s eyes every day.

  The same look of censure she was going to have to face again in two short hours.

  She ran down the porch steps and gave her bag to the Mennonite driver her uncle had hired. She turned back to give Eliza one last wave.

  “Tell Eli gut-bye for me,” she called out even though she’d already told him good-bye before he’d left for the store earlier.

  “I will, child.” Eliza wiped at her eyes with the corner of her apron and waved again before bustling back inside.

  She’s crying, Doris thought. She took a deep breath and climbed into the van. The driver got in, and they were underway in seconds. Doris settled back in the vinyl seat and stared out the window at the scenery whizzing by. She wondered what she’d face when she got home. Would her mother be glad to see her or not? Would she bemoan the failure of her plan? After all, Doris didn’t have a new beau.

  She touched her lips and smiled ruefully. At another time, she might have fallen for Noah King, and he might have fallen for her. After all, he was good-looking and kind. But feelings simply couldn’t be turned off and on, despite her aunt’s best efforts. And Noah was sweet on Leora Fisher. Doris imagined they’d be getting married soon enough.

  Would she? Would she and Jordan be wed? She pressed her hands together in her lap and imagined herself in a beautiful deep periwinkle blue dress, standing beside Jordan in front of the bishop. She could picture herself, a little bit nervous, her voice shaking slightly as she made her promises publicly. And Jordan would be nervous, too. His deep voice would have a tremor in it as he recited his promises to her. And then they would be wed, and the celebration would begin.

  Her forehead crinkled, and she frowned. It would never happen like that. Her mother would be too distraught if she and Jordan were published. And her father? He would be quieter with his displeasure, but she would still feel it in her very soul. She sucked in a deep breath. Jordan was simply going to have to change her parents’ opinion of him.

  In truth, he was going to have to work to change the entire district’s opinion of him. She wondered what the bishop and the deacons would require. There would be something—of that she was certain. He would never be able to return from jail and just pretend nothing unusual had happened.

  Did everyone know now? Did everyone know that she and Jordan were courting? Her mind flew to her cousin Matthew. In the past, she’d shared almost everything with him. They had a special bond—one that defied explanation. But it was there, and they both knew it. She told him things she didn’t even tell her dear friend, Nancy. In truth, more than once, Nancy had been hurt when she’d found out Doris had confided in Matthew before confiding in her.

  So why hadn’t she told Matthew about her and Jordan? She leaned her head against the van window and sighed. She didn’t want Matthew to know. She wasn’t sure why; she just didn’t. Had he found out? Had he heard his mother talking with her mother, because if Doris was sure of anything, she was sure that her mother had gone on and on about it with Verna.

  Well, it couldn’t be helped.

  And if Doris was going to stand by Jordan when he returned, she’d better get used to the idea that not everyone was going to approve of her either. She sat up straighter and lifted her chin. So be it, she thought. She loved Jordan and would stick by him no matter what.

  With that confirmed in her mind, she let herself enjoy the scenery as they sped along the highway. But really, it was mostly frozen empty fields with short dead stubbles reminding her of the corn that grew there in the summer. The trees were bare and looked lonely and deserted on the stark horizon. Suddenly, she wished Indiana had mountains. Real mountains that towered over a person. She’d seen pictures now and then of majestic mountains covered with evergreens and even with snow stretching up to the sky. Someday maybe, she would see them in person. She fancied the idea.

  But her folks had no desire to travel anywhere. The farthest Doris had ever been from home was the one time her father agreed to visit kinfolk in Ohio. The trip had taken four whole hours by bus, and Doris hadn’t see one mountain there, either.

  She wondered whether Jordan was interested in traveling. She hoped so.

  “We’re almost there,” her driver said, as he turned to give her a quick glance in the back seat.

  “Thank you,” she murmured and smiled at him.

  “I’ll have you home in about ten minutes.” He put his attention on the road, and she stared at the back of his head for a moment before looking outside again.

  Ten minutes. They ticked off entirely too quickly and before she knew it, he turned the van into her drive. Despite herself and her courageous declarations, her jaw tightened in dread. But she grinned happily when she saw her two younger sisters burst through the front door and wave at her.

  “Looks like you got a welcoming committee,” the driver said with a chuckle.

  “Looks that way.”

  He pulled the van to a stop before the front porch, and Sally and Kara tumbled down the steps to meet her. Doris got out quickly.

  “You’re home!” Sally cried, giving her a hug.

  “Does this mean I have to move out of your room?” Kara asked.

  “You’ve been staying in my room?”

  “Mamm said I could.”

  Doris raised a brow. “Well, then. Jah, I guess it means you have to move back out.”

  Kara frowned. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “I ain’t so bad to share a room with,” Sally complained. “You’re the one who hogs the bed.”

  “Nee, it ain’t me—” Kara started to retort, but was interrupted when Henrietta stepped outside, hugging a shawl around her shoulders.

  Doris’s breath caught. “Mamm.”

  “Hello, daughter. Welcome home.” Her words were kind enough, but Doris couldn’t miss the disappointment on her mother’s face.

  “Eliza and Eli send their greetings.”

  Sally tugged on Doris’s arm. “Is her voice still like a teakettle’s whistle?”

  Doris bit back a laugh.

  “Thank you,” Henrietta said to the driver who had carried Doris’s bag to her.

  “Ach, thank you,” Doris said to him. “I should have taken it myself.”

  “No need,” he said kindly.

  “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” Henrietta asked him.

  “No, thank you,” he said. “I’ll be getting back now.”

  “Have you been paid?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Eli took care of that.”

  “All right then.
Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” Doris echoed her mother.

  He left and the four of them went inside. Doris glanced around, noting that nothing had changed while she was gone. But then, why would it? She wasn’t gone that long, and nothing ever changed, anyway.

  “Why don’t you girls take Doris’s bag upstairs. Doris, come into the kitchen with me and have some tea.”

  Sally and Kara groaned, but they did as they were bid. Henrietta wasn’t fooling anyone. She wanted to talk to Doris alone. Doris followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

  “So, did you have a gut time?”

  “I did. Eliza was right kind.”

  “She wrote while you were there.” Her mother fixed two cups of tea and sat down across from Doris. “She said you were writing … that boy.”

  She said the word boy as if it were a curse word. While Doris had expected her to be disappointed and upset, hearing her tone filled her with anger.

  “His name is Jordan,” she snapped and then bit her lower lip. She was going to need much more control than this if she wanted her parents to soften toward Jordan. Acting saucy with her mother wasn’t going to accomplish anything. She blinked and forced herself to smile.

  “I’m sorry, Mamm. I shouldn’t have written Jordan in secret like that.” She heard her own words and recognized them for the lie that they were. Everyone in their district wrote their beaus in secret. It was expected. Still … she was trying to pacify her mother.

  It didn’t work.

  Her mother leaned across the table. “You know how I feel about this. How your dat feels…” She shook her head, her expression tight. “We don’t want you writing that boy anymore.”

  Doris didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t want to continue lying to her mother, but she wasn’t going to stop writing Jordan, either.

  “I’m sorry, Mamm,” she muttered because she truly was sorry.

  “Eliza tells me that you ignored a perfectly nice boy’s courting.”

  “What? She told you that?” Doris couldn’t help but laugh.