Christmas Cradles
© 2010 by Kelly Long
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.
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Scripture quotations taken from the King James Version.
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-59554-856-6 (TP)
ISBN 978-1-41857-914-2 (ebook)
ISBN 978-1-40168-936-0 (ebook: Christmas Cradles)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wiseman, Beth, 1962–
An Amish Christmas : December in Lancaster County : three Amish
Christmas novellas / Beth Wiseman, Kathleen Fuller, Barbara Cameron. —
Expanded ed.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-59554-878-8 (alk. paper)
1. Christmas stories, American. 2. Christian fiction, American. 3. Lancaster County (Pa.)—Fiction.
I. Wiseman, Beth, 1962– A choice to forgive. II. Fuller, Kathleen A miracle for Miriam. III.
Cameron, Barbara, 1949– One child. IV. Title.
PS648.C45A47 2010
813'.0108334—dc22
2010014413
For Anna and Sam Locksley.
CONTENTS
GLOSSARY
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
READING GUIDE
AMISH RECIPES
EXCERPT FROM SARAH'S GARDEN
AUTHOR BIO
Acknowledgments
I’d like to acknowledge my editor, Natalie Hanemann, who continues to be a source of encouragement and strength for me both as a person and as a writer. I also would like to thank my agent, Tamela Hancock Murray, for providing a lot of cheer along the writing process of this work. My love goes out to my critique partner and coconspirator of plotting and love, Brenda Lott, and my deepest thanks goes to Daniel Miller, my Amish consultant for the piece. And lastly but foremost, I want to thank my husband, Scott, for always being there, through all the storms of life—you are my real hero!
Glossary
ab im kopp – off in the head, crazy
aenti – aunt
baremlich – terrible
bauchduch – napkin
boppli – baby or babies
bruder – brother
daadi – grandfather
daed – dad
danki – thanks
demut – humility
dippy eggs – eggs cooked over easy
Derr Herr – God
dochder – daughter
du bischt wilkumm – you’re welcome
dummkopf – dummy
Englisch or Englischer – a non-Amish person
fraa or frau – wife
Frehlicher Grischtdaag – Merry Christmas
gebet – prayer
gern schöna – so willingly done
glay hotsli – little heart (endearment)
grossmammi – grandmother
guder mariye – good morning
guten nacht – good night
gut-n-owed – good evening
gutguckich – good-looking
gut – good
halt – stop
haus – house
hatt – hard
herr – mister
hochmut – pride
in lieb – in love
kaffi – coffee
kapp – prayer covering or cap
kind, kinder, kinner – children or grandchildren
liebschen – dearest
maedel or maed – girl or girls
mamm – mom
mammi – grandmother
mann – man
mei – my
mudder – mother
naerfich – nervous
narrisch – crazy
nee – no
onkel – uncle
ordnung – the written and unwritten rules of the Amish; the understood behavior by which the Amish are expected to live, passed down from generation to generation. Most Amish know the rules by heart.
Pennsylvania Deitsch – Pennsylvania German, the language most commonly used by the Amish
recht – right
redd-up – clean up
rumschpringe – running-around period when a teenager turns sixteen years old
sehr gut – very good
seltsam – weird
sohn – son
wunderbaar – wonderful
ya – yes
Chapter One
The fading light played with the reflection of the kerosene lamp against the window of the old Amish farmhouse and illuminated the stray snowflakes just beginning to fall. Inside the warm and simple room, Asa Mast bent his broad back over his father’s bed and lifted the older man into a more comfortable position against the pillows.
“Danki, Asa.” Samuel coughed, giving his son a bleary-eyed look. “The flu is bad this year and it moves fast, or else I’m growing old.”
Asa sat on the edge of the bed and poured a fresh glass of water from the pitcher his sister-in-law had just brought.
“You seem as young to me, Daed, as the day you took me out behind the barn and tanned my hide for driving the colt through Mamm’s kitchen garden.”
Samuel smiled as Asa knew he would, his fever-bright eyes, so dark and so like his son’s, growing warmer for a moment. “Jah, to think that you were ever that young . . .”
They sat in silence for a moment, remembering. Then Asa lifted the cloth napkin from the tray on the bedside table and saw untouched thin slices of ham, mashed potatoes, pickled beets, and a wedge of apple pie.
“Can’t you bring yourself to eat anything, Daed? Would you like something lighter, maybe broth?”
“I’m not an invalid; I asked for all of that. I guess my eyes were just bigger than my stomach.”
Asa recovered the plate. “I hate to leave you alone tonight, Daed.”
Samuel waved the words away. “Your bruder and sister-in-law are here; they will care well for me.”
“I know, but I guess I’d feel more comfortable if you’d let me take you to the hospital to get checked out. I don’t like the sound of your cough.”
“Ha! Going to the hospital for the flu, and on First Christmas too. I don’t think so. And I made a promise to Frau Ruth; you must keep it for me.”
Asa sighed. “I know, but . . .”
Samuel tapped his son’s large hand. “You’re making excuses. Perhaps you don’t want to go because it’s a woman you’ll be helping. Hmm?”
Asa’s dark eyelashes drifted downward.
“So that’s the truth of it?” Samuel smiled as he settled back once more against the pillows.
“Nee . . . it doesn’t matter.”
Samuel snorted. “Women always matter.”
“I’m going to point that out to Grossmuder the next time she visits.”
“Bah, and I’ll point out to her that you’ve yet to get over something that happened more t
han a decade ago.”
“I didn’t think you’d kept track.”
“Your mamm did,” Samuel rasped. “She worried for you. Now that she’s gone, it’s my job.”
“I’m over it, Daed. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” Asa touched his father’s arm.
His father sighed. “We celebrate Christmas, my son. A season of expectancy, of hope. But you, I don’t think that you expect anything wonderful to happen to you in your life. You don’t look at your days, or your nights, with the hope of Derr Herr.”
“I know Derr Herr has a plan for my life.”
“Then look for it. Watch for it, like a candle in the snow. This is what your mamm would want for you. It’s what I want for you.”
“Daed.” Asa smiled. “I’ll think about it. And I know you miss Mamm—I do too.”
“Now you’re changing the subject . . .”
Asa got to his feet and adjusted the quilts, tucking them around his father’s shoulders but leaving room for his long, gray beard to stick out. “Nee, now I’m going to keep your favor—woman or not. Happy Christmas, Daed.”
The old man sighed. “Happy Christmas, sohn.”
Anna Stolis breathed a prayer of gratitude when the large white van took the last corner around Lincoln Street and came to a ragged halt in front of Dienner’s Country Restaurant. She’d endured the Englisch teenager’s reckless driving for two and half hours. At the last minute her transportation from Pine Creek had canceled, but she had needed to get to her Aenti Ruth, who was due to leave town for a brief but much needed vacation.
The Englisch boy grinned at her. “You’re a pretty good sport. A couple of those turns were icy coming down the mountain.”
“Thanks.” She adjusted her kapp and reached into the side pocket of her large midwifery bag and paid him the agreed-upon amount plus a tip. “Drive back safely.”
“No worries. Merry Christmas. Hey, and I’ll pick you up the same time tomorrow evening.” He grinned, cranking up the radio, and she could only nod to him through the deafening sound. The van sped away, and she stepped back in relief.
She entered Dienner’s Country Restaurant, glad that it was open for a few hours on Christmas Day to cater to those who had to work or just wanted time out. She took a deep breath of the fragrant air, happy for the opportunity to warm up. She caught sight of her aenti, Ruth Stolis, seated at a table near the window, and she hurried to shake out her cape as she crossed the room to greet her.
Ruth Stolis was a comfortably round, keen-eyed, middle-aged widow. And at twenty-six, it seemed as though Anna might follow in her aenti’s footsteps, as she already had an intelligent mind, generous curves, and lack of suitors on the horizon. Still, she possessed the proper training to practice midwifery in the state of Pennsylvania, and she told herself with stout reassurance that was worth ten men. Though the wishful thought did pass through her mind that if the good Lord saw fit to send her a husband, she’d be more than grateful.
Ruth rose to enfold her in a warm hug. “I was getting worried, Anna, but I should have known better.”
“Midwives always deliver.” Anna grinned and they shared a smile of camaraderie as they sat down.
“How was your First Christmas? And my favorite bruder?”
“Daed and Mamm are doing well, but I had a delivery call just after I’d helped Mamm serve the noon meal. And it was twins, no less. I didn’t see that coming, as I’d only had two prenatal visits with the mother. I’m still not comfortable delivering twins outside the hospital, but our women would much rather stay at home. What about you?”
“Only one delivery. My quietest Christmas ever. I relaxed by the fire, then stopped in to visit with my friend Rachel Fisher for a few minutes. You remember I wrote you a few years back to pray for her sohn, Seth, who was in that accident? Anyway, she would have liked me to stay longer, but I wanted to get home and curl up with Bottle.”
Anna grinned at the image of her aenti’s cat. “You’re lulling me to sleep right here.”
“Well, it’ll be the first Second Christmas I’ve spent with my daughter since she married. I’m excited, but I wouldn’t be able to do it without you. Even with the other midwives in the area and the local hospital, it’s hard to get away, even for a day.”
“My pleasure, and I know what you mean. Although, there is a new Englisch physician in the area who is a great help; he’s an older man and he’s got an intern with him for a time. They’re covering for me tonight and tomorrow.”
Anna ordered a roast beef sandwich from the Englisch waitress, then took a sip from the thick mug of coffee. “Ach, I almost forgot . . . I brought a gift for my favorite aenti . . .” Anna reached into her oversized midwifery bag, which looked more like a folded piece of flowered carpet with wooden handles. She withdrew a small package with festive wrapping and a flattened bow.
“Danki, Anna . . . you didn’t have to. Just coming is enough.” But Aenti Ruth’s fingers moved with happiness as she opened the gift. She laughed aloud when she saw what it was.
“A retractable tape measure—in pink and blue. Do you know how many tape measures I go through?”
“Me too.” Anna smiled.
Ruth reached across the table to squeeze Anna’s hand. “Danki, Anna. This is one I will not lose.” She bundled her gift back up, then folded her hands, obviously preparing for a more serious discussion. “Now, I’ll be back by seven o’clock tomorrow evening, providing everything goes well. And I want you to know that anytime you want to have a partner or just get away, I’d love to share my practice with you here in Paradise.”
Anna’s gray eyes shone with gratitude. “Danki, Aenti Ruth. Derr Herr has blessed me with your love and your friendship.”
“All right.” Ruth patted Anna’s hand. “Here’s my list of potential deliveries. Three possibilities. Two are further than remote.”
Anna rolled her eyes at the suggestion that any possibility was remote in the realm of pregnancy and delivery. Her aenti laughed.
“Sarah Raber, age thirty-two, fifth child. No previous problems. Probably could deliver without you if she had to.
“Mary Stolis, some vague cousin I bet, age thirty, three children. She had a miscarriage late term last time, but she would not allow an autopsy, naturally. She’s healthy as a horse, as she likes to say, on this go-around. I don’t foresee any difficulties, but if she does put in a call, you’ll want to keep a sharp eye.”
Anna nodded.
“And Deborah Loftus. Twenty-three. First baby. Still two weeks out. Just in case.”
“Just in case, hmm? Isn’t it always the ‘just in case’ ones that deliver early?”
“Yep.” Ruth’s eyes twinkled. “And Samuel Mast will spend the night in the barn and drive you out if any calls come through. His kids are all grown and pretty much gone from home, and his wife passed last year. It’ll make him feel good to have something to do at the holidays besides visiting. Here’s the key, and the supply room is well stocked. Just make yourself at home after dinner. Folks are saying it’ll snow, but Samuel knows every inch of this area. Hopefully there’ll be no calls.”
They both had a hearty laugh at the idea, then Anna bid her aenti good-bye, promising to pray she would have a safe trip. Anna sat down and finished her sandwich, savored a last cup of coffee, and made her way to the yellow house and small attached barn that her aunt rented on one of the back streets of the town. The weather looked grim, but lights burned with good cheer in storefronts and upstairs apartments.
She removed her glove to fit the key into the icy lock and entered to Bottle’s purr and caress. She bent to stroke the animal and glanced with pleasure at the banked fire burning in the grate. She laid her bag on a chair and had just stretched her hands out to the warmth when a heavy banging on the front door interrupted her.
“Well, that was all of two free minutes,” she muttered, going to open the door.
A tall Amish man stood in the shadows of the street lamp, and she searched his handsome f
ace to assess the possible status of any pregnant wife. She saw nothing but calm, deep brown eyes, which made her think of dipped chocolate, and a thick fringe of lashes like icing on the cake, so to speak. She blinked. He looked rock steady, so his wife was probably just experiencing Braxton-Hicks or practice labor. Anna assumed a professional manner.
“Please, come in, Mr. . . . ah?”
“Mast. I’m Asa Mast, Samuel’s son. Daed’s down with the flu. He sent me out to drive you tonight if need be.” His voice was husky, inviting, making her think of the steady creak of well-worn rockers moving in unison. Anna decided the ride in the cold van had done more than rattle her nerves. She had never reacted like this to a man’s voice; the truth was she usually saw men as vague nuisances, always underfoot when she had work to do.
“I’m, uh . . . Anna, Anna Stolis. You must know my Aunt Ruth well. Please come in out of the cold.” She held the door open wider, but his tall form didn’t budge.
“Daed said I was to sleep in the barn.”
“Ach, right—I forgot. I mean, of course. If you’ll wait, I’ll get some blankets—”
He held up a large gloved hand. “No need. I’m warm.”
His words caused her to inadvertently trail her gaze down his high, ruddy cheekbones to his sculpted chin and on to his broad, bundled chest. He did radiate a certain warmth; she fancied she could feel it from where she stood. And he smelled as clean as Christmas, like pine and snow.
Anna decided she was truly addled.
“Well, all right then, Mr. Mast—”
“Just Asa. Mr. Mast’s my father.” He gave her a warm smile.
“Right. Asa . . . I . . . call me Anna. I’ll, um . . . I’ll wake you if the need arises.”
“Afraid I’ll have to wake you most likely, ma’am—Anna. The phone’s in the barn. Your aenti has a keen ear . . . or a sixth sense, they say.” He smiled, a flash of white teeth, and a stray dimple appeared in his chiseled jaw. “She left my daed an extra key. I’ll just holler up the steps, if that’s okay?”
“Fine . . . fine.” She watched him tip his black hat, then step off the porch; he was probably married, she thought, and the idea depressed her. Still, she decided she’d sleep in her clothes. She told herself that she had no desire to have Asa Mast “hollering” to her while she was in her nightgown.