Christmas In Hollybrook (Hollybrook Holiday Amish Romance) Read online

  “Mamm? Dat? May I talk to you?” she asked, sticking her head into the front room.

  “Of course, child. Come in.” Mamm took her feet off the cushions and made to sit up.

  “Nee, Mamm. Stay where you are. I’ll sit in a rocker.” Sadie pulled a rocker over closer to the davenport and the easy chair where her dad was sitting.

  “What is it?” Dat asked.

  “I’m worried about Mammi.”

  Dat leaned forward. “What is it? Is she failing?”

  Sadie shook her head. “Nee. Nee. It’s just that she’ll be alone for Christmas and it makes me sad.”

  “Didn’t you offer to bring her here?” Mamm asked.

  “Jah, but she won’t come.” Sadie touched her chin. “You know, I always thought it was just plain stubbornness, but I think it’s more.”

  “What do you mean?” Mamm asked.

  “I think she’s afraid the trip will be too hard on her. She’s not failing, Dat. At least, I don’t think so. But she’s not real strong, either.”

  Dat got abruptly up and started to pace. “We must get her here. That’s all there is to it.”

  Mamm held up her hand. “You want to go back, don’t you? You don’t want to be here.”

  Sadie’s cheeks went hot. “Nee. I’m happy to be here. I’m happy to help.”

  Mamm shook her head. “You want to go back.” She sighed. “Now don’t give me that guilty look. I understand. I’m not faulting you, child.”

  “Well, I am,” Dat interjected, his voice sharp. “Your mamm needs you, Sadie.”

  “I know,” Sadie said. “And I told you I’m happy to be here.”

  He scowled and gave her a dubious look.

  “Arguing won’t solve a thing,” Mamm said. “You need to go back. At least for Christmas Day.”

  “And pay a van for a one-day stay?” asked Dat. “That seems mighty frivolous.”

  “It’s important to Sadie. And I don’t like the idea of your mamm being alone for Christmas, either.” Mamm smoothed her dress over her legs. “We’ll be fine for a few days. Why don’t you stay for three to four days, Sadie? I’ll be fine for that amount of time. Besides, there will be others around on the holidays who can help.”

  “Like who?” Dat asked. “Your sister? She’s got such a houseful of kinner, she don’t know which way is up.”

  Mamm chuckled. “Dan, you’re terrible.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Maybe so. But still, I’ll be fine. Sadie, you go ahead and make arrangements.”

  “But we want you directly back here. Three days, not four. Understood?” Dat asked.

  Sadie stood, hardly believing how the conversation had gone. “Jah, I understand. Thank you. And you’re sure, Mamm?”

  “I’m sure.” Her mother gave her a warm smile. “Now, would you kindly go to the Feed & Supply for me? I’m thinking about making some cinnamon rolls, and we’re mighty short on cinnamon. Plus, we need to make some sugar cookies to decorate for Christmas. I’m needing more lard.”

  “You don’t need to be baking…” Dat started.

  “Lands sake,” Mamm cried. “I’m not on my deathbed here. I still have some vinegar left in me.”

  Dat grinned. “That you do, Bonnie. That you do.”

  Sadie left them as they continued to tease one another. After all these years, the fondness and love between her parents was still a tangible thing. She sighed, wishing she could have that with someone. Peter again flashed through her mind. Disgusted, she quickened her pace.

  She refocused on Aaron. Was he the one?

  She went upstairs to fetch her thicker socks. When she passed her sisters’ room, they were both in there flounced on the bed, reading. “Either of you want to go to the Feed & Supply with me?” she asked.

  “Nee,” they both chorused at once.

  “It’s too cold,” Lizzie added. “Besides, I’m at the best part of this book.”

  “How many times have you read that?” Matilda asked. “About a hundred?”

  Sadie grinned. “It’s not very warm up here, you two. Why don’t you both go downstairs to read?”

  “We like it up here,” Matilda said.

  Lizzie grunted and turned a page.

  Sadie left them, took her socks from her drawer and put them on over her thinner pair, and then she went downstairs to bundle up for her errand.

  Chapter Ten

  Funny how a person got used to the cold. When the first frost hit in fall, it was always a shock to the system, but by mid-December, Sadie supposed they’d all toughened up. She had to admit that she did like the aura of frozen stillness on cold days. That afternoon, she felt like she was the only one in the world. No one passed her on the road, not even a motor car. The clip clop of Bessie’s hooves echoed around her in the crisp air. She took a long deep breath, enjoying the barren countryside.

  She did love it there in Hollybrook. It surprised her how content she felt at that moment to be there, riding peacefully to the Feed & Supply. If only Mammi would agree to move. But if she did, Sadie wouldn’t be going back to Ohio. She wouldn’t be seeing Aaron again. And if things between her and Aaron went well, she would be moving back to Ainesburg permanently.

  Well, that was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

  A crow cawed from a nearby tree and then took flight, swooping overhead—a black shadow against the stark blue sky. The sound reminded her of summer days in the field and all of the family working together to ensure a good harvest.

  Bessie snorted, and Sadie clicked her tongue. “You’re doing fine, girl,” she called out. “We’re almost there.”

  A few minutes later, she was pulling into the large parking area at the Feed & Supply. She imagined Eliza Troyer inside, fussing over her inventory, watching the customers, sticking her nose into everyone’s business. Some things never changed.

  She glanced around the lot. Looked to be only two other customers there. She sighed, knowing she was in for the grand inquisition from Eliza. She tugged Bessie to a stop and looped the reins over the post at the side of the cart. She got out, feeling a bit stiff after the cold ride. She was patting Bessie’s neck when she heard his voice.

  “Sadie?”

  She tensed. Of all things, why did he have to be there? Why did he have to be one of the two only other customers right then?

  She turned and smiled at him. “Hello, Peter.”

  He broke into a wide grin and his expression turned animated. It occurred to her that he was truly glad to see her, which immediately made her both pleased and wary.

  “Out running errands, I see,” he said.

  “Jah. And you, too, by the looks of it.”

  He chuckled, holding up his paper bag. “Picking up a few things for Jess.”

  Jess…? Oh, right. Jess Gundy, his father-in-law. “I see,” she said.

  “About the other night—”

  She interrupted him. “I’m right sorry about the way I ran off so quick-like. Can’t imagine what got into my head. I wanted to thank you for apologizing.”

  “I meant it,” he said, stepping closer. He was so tall. Stretched above her like that, she felt small and dainty and a bit overcome. Her breathing went shallow. His dark blue eyes softened until it was as if they were caressing her without a touch. Everything inside her tingled, and she felt her chest tighten with yearning.

  She had no idea what to say. Why did he still have such power over her? She didn’t want to subject herself to him again. She couldn’t. It could only be worse now. She didn’t want to deal with his grief over another woman.

  She moved back. “I’m going to Ohio for Christmas.”

  He blanched. “What?”

  “I’m going back.”

  He blinked, and she saw his confusion. His expression clouded. “You’ve only just arrived.”

  “I know, but Mammi is alone. And there are others I need to see…” She left the phrase hanging. Shame flashed through her. Why had she said that? One didn’t discuss courting
with others—particularly old beaus. What was she trying to do?

  “Others?”

  She raised her chin. She’d started it… “Jah. Others.”

  “By others, you mean a beau.” His words were clipped and something fell over his eyes. Something invisible, but there just the same.

  “Perhaps.”

  He stared at her, and the silence between them deepened and stretched and yawned as if a crevice was splitting open between them—growing wider and wider. He blinked again, and a muscle beside his jaw twitched.

  “So, you’re courting.”

  She bit her bottom lip. So. He was going to be outright with it. She didn’t remember him as flouting convention so boldly before. He’d changed, and despite her misgivings, she found herself strangely intrigued.

  His eyes probed hers, and she knew he was waiting for a response, but for some reason, she didn’t want to give him one. Her lips parted slightly, and she remained silent.

  “We used to be friends, Sadie,” he said finally, his voice edged with sadness.

  His sadness crept into her, inching into her throat, her chest, and down her arms until all she felt was his heaviness. His pain. She struggled to draw in a breath. This wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be standing with him there, squarely in public, discussing beaus and courtship and apologies.

  She tried to swallow, but in the frigid air, her throat ached with dryness.

  “Are you happy?” he asked abruptly, startling her.

  “Happy?”

  “Jah. Are you happy?”

  What a ridiculous question. Was she happy? That wasn’t the aim of life. Life was about pleasing God, following the Ordnung, serving her family and her fellow district members. Her own happiness was not paramount to anything. Why was he asking such a question?

  He took another step closer and if she tried, she could feel his breath on her cheeks as he studied her face. “You always were so beautiful.”

  She gasped and nearly lost her balance. “I-I need to go,” she said. “Mamm is expecting her supplies.”

  She darted away from him, darted away from his gaze, his presence, his power over her. Her eyes misted over so that she could barely see the store’s steps in front of her. She grabbed the railing and hurried up the steps and inside the door. The bell above the door tinkled. She was inside; she should feel safe now.

  But safety was not what she felt. Instead, all she felt was total confusion and desperation. No. No. That wasn’t right.

  Mired and twisted amidst it all, indeed overpowering it all, was love.

  And then all she felt was fear.

  She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t go back to such fervent love for Peter. Her tears spilled over, and she wiped at them frantically.

  “Why, if it ain’t Sadie Verkler,” came a shrill voice from behind the counter.

  Sadie plastered a smile on her face, blinking her tears away. “Hello, Eliza,” she said. “How are you?”

  “Fair to middling.” The woman’s piercing eyes took her in. “You all right?”

  Sadie widened her smile until she felt her cheeks nearly split. “Of course. I’m fine. Maybe you can point me toward the cinnamon and the lard.”

  Sadie knew full well where the spices were and where the lard was, but anything to distract the district’s busybody. Her ploy worked, as Eliza Troyer strode out from behind the counter and led her to the second aisle. “You’ll find them here, child. I’m a bit surprised that you forgot. How long have you been gone now?”

  “A couple of years,” Sadie said, studying the rows of spices as if they were jewels.

  “How’s that grossmammi of yours? When’s she coming over this way?” Eliza’s voice was like a stinging insect, sharp and insistent.

  “Ach, we’ve tried to get her here. She won’t budge.” Sadie nearly wept with relief to be talking about her grandmother. Her eyes were good and dry now, so she could face Eliza when she spoke.

  “How many pounds of lard do you need?”

  Sadie pointed to the smallest can. “That should do it.”

  Eliza bent down and scooped it up, groaning slightly. “What else are you needing?”

  “Nee, this is all,” Sadie said.

  They moved to the counter again, and Sadie made her transaction. She took her purchases and left the store. Outside, she glanced around nervously, thinking Peter might still be around, but she didn’t see him. She walked back to her cart and set the brown sack into the bed. Just as she was ready to climb up into the cart, she sucked in her breath. There on the wooden seat lay a shiny black stone, shaped like a star. Sadie recognized it immediately.

  It was the stone Peter had carried around with him for years. He’d found it at Edmund’s Pond when he was a boy. He’d been intrigued by its shape, certain that it was a star fallen from the heavens. Of course, when he grew older, he realized that it was no such thing. But still, he kept it. He told Sadie that having it with him brought back the fun, carefree days of his childhood. Sadie had always thought he was being quite fanciful, but Peter was like that. He enjoyed small things and things he thought unique.

  Her hand trembled as she picked up the stone from the seat. She brought it to her face and felt its cold smoothness on her cheek. She lowered it quickly. Why had he left it there? Was he giving it to her? And if so, why?

  She slipped it inside her mitten where it fell against her palm. She left it there the entire way home.

  Chapter Eleven

  Matilda dashed through the side door in a whirl of cold and fluttering snowflakes. “Sadie!” she hollered and then stopped short, nearly running into Sadie as she was sweeping the wash room. “Ach, you’re here,” Matilda said. She thrust an envelope at her. “You got a letter.”

  Sadie’s brow rose. Had Mammi written? She hoped so. “Thank you,” she told her sister, taking the envelope and looking at the handwriting on the envelope. There was no return address and this was not her mammi’s script. Nor was it Aaron’s.

  “Who’s it from?” Matilda asked.

  “Don’t rightly know,” Sadie answered, setting the broom aside.

  “Well, open it.”

  Sadie gave her sister a look. “I’ll be in my room,” she said, turning to leave.

  “Ain’t you going to open it here?”

  Sadie smiled. “Nee, I’m not going to open it here. Why don’t you finish up the sweeping?”

  Matilda groaned and made a face. “Do I got to?”

  “Jah, you have to. Now, get on it, dear little sister.” She picked the broom back up and pushed the handle toward Matilda.

  Matilda reluctantly took it. “But you’ll tell me who it’s from, right? Is it Mammi?”

  “Nee, it’s not Mammi. Now, get to sweeping.”

  Sadie wasn’t sure who the letter was from. She’d hoped to hear from Mammi as she’d already let her know she was coming for Christmas. The only other person who would write her would be Aaron, and since she’d had a letter from his yesterday, it wasn’t him. And she already knew it wasn’t his handwriting, anyway.

  She hurried through the dining area and climbed the stairs two at a time—once she was sure her mother wasn’t watching her. She scurried to her bedroom and shut the door, going to her bed and sinking onto the heavy layers of quilts. She ripped the envelope open and took out the letter, unfolding it carefully. By now, she had a niggling suspicion who the letter was from and when she saw the signature, she gasped.

  Dear Sadie,

  I would like to see you. I figure this letter should get to you Saturday afternoon, so I will be waiting at the end of your drive Saturday evening at seven-thirty. I have no idea whether you’ll come or not, but I’m asking you to please come.

  If you don’t show up, I won’t bother you again.

  Peter

  Sadie gaped at his words. He was coming that evening? And for what? He’d already apologized, so there was really nothing left to say. Her hand went to her waistband, where she had hidden his stone. She�
�d turned the fabric up to form a sort of pocket, where the stone fit snugly. Why she was keeping it there she had no real idea; it had just seemed like the best place for it.

  She should have tossed it away, into the shallow snow out back by the garden. But she couldn’t do that. She knew how much the stone meant to Peter. Well, she could give it back to him that evening.

  She stood up and began pacing circles on her rag rug. No. She wasn’t going to meet him. It could only lead to more confusion and more heartache. But why did he want to see her? Maybe he wanted his stone back; but then, why didn’t he just say so? She glanced to the row of pegs by her bedroom door. Her purple gown was comely. She’d taken great pains when she’d made it some months ago. She’d been feeling a bit vain at the time, trying to make a dress that would make her look pretty. Peter might appreciate such a dress in such a color.

  She stopped pacing. What in the world was she thinking?

  It was in the thirties outside. If she went, he wouldn’t even see her dress. She’d have to be bundled up to her chin to stay warm.

  And she wasn’t going to go out driving with him anyway. Why should she?

  She resumed her pacing. Then she stopped and read his letter again. He didn’t even give her time to respond by mail. Was he so sure of himself? She reread it a third time. No, he didn’t sound sure. She glanced out the window into the upper naked branches of the huge oak tree in their front yard. She could see deserted nests where birds had diligently built them the summer before.

  She let out her breath in a huge sigh. She wasn’t going to go. She was going to ignore his summons and concentrate her thinking energy on her grandmother. And her mother. She stepped over to her bedside stand and opened the drawer, shoving the letter inside.

  She needed to go down and check with her mother. Make sure she didn’t need anything. And then she could brew some tea and sit with her and chat about nothing in particular.