Her Amish Christmas Choice Read online

  A smile of approval curved his handsome mouth. “That’s exactly what I would choose. I can start building the cabinets today.”

  She wasn’t surprised. Martin worked fast. In spite of the mishaps over the past week, he’d repaired the roof and the hole in the attic from where Hank had fallen through. And just in time, too. As soon as he finished, they had awoken to leaden clouds and a drenching rain. Julia figured Martin and Hank wouldn’t show up for work today. After all, they had to drive their horse and buggy three miles into town. But they’d shown up promptly at six o’clock, wearing shiny black water slickers to protect them from the wet drizzle.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask if you know where I might purchase some firewood. My grandfather left me a little money, so I can pay for it. Is there a vendor in town who sells it?” she asked, leaning her hip against the table she’d placed along one wall to set papers on. Martin had provided a rather orderly drawing of blueprints and designs for her workroom and they had discussed a few changes to the layout.

  “Ja, I can see to it. We’re late in the season for gathering firewood but I’ll plan an excursion into the mountains to gather dead trees and haul them down to cut up for you within the next week or so,” he said.

  Hmm. He didn’t need another chore to do. But he never flinched at any of her many requests. Dallin had always shirked her appeals for help. But Martin seemed to understand the needs were real and simply figured out a way to accomplish each task. She couldn’t help wondering if that might end once the newness of working for her wore off.

  “Do you think you’ll have time for that along with everything else I’ve asked you to do?” she said.

  He nodded, rolling up the designs with quick twists of his strong hands. “Ja. The day after tomorrow might be a gut day to go up on the mountain. Tomorrow is Sunday and the weather should be clear by Monday. I can get the cabinets started today and then bring down a load of firewood next week.”

  She studied him for a moment, thinking. “And what about the garbage piled out back? How do we get rid of that?”

  “On my way into the mountains, I can take all the boxes and junk to the dump. That way, I can kill two ducks with one stone,” he said.

  She laughed. “I think you mean kill two birds with one stone.”

  He smiled and tilted his head in agreement. “Ja, that is what I meant. I’ll bring my vadder’s large hay wagon and Billy, one of our Belgian draft horses. He’s strong and should be able to haul all the garbage as well as bring home a couple of dead trees for firewood.”

  A draft horse! Although she’d seen some of the giant animals grazing peacefully in the open fields around town, Julia had never dared approach one of them for a closer look. “That would be fine. And I’ll put some extra money in your paycheck to cover the rental of your animal and wagon.”

  “My vadder is not using Billy or the wagon right now. There is no need to pay for their use,” he said.

  “Oh yes, there is.” Cutting him off, she bent over to pick up a bucket of murky soap water she’d been using to scrub the grimy floor.

  Since she didn’t own a car or truck of her own, Julia was grateful for the use of Martin’s horse and intended to compensate him fairly. He seemed much too generous. She really liked Martin and didn’t want to take advantage of him or his resources.

  When she looked up again, she found him watching her, a perplexed expression tugging at his forehead.

  * * *

  “How old are you?” Martin asked her suddenly.

  She blinked, as though surprised by his blunt question. “That’s kind of personal, don’t you think?”

  He looked away, thinking he shouldn’t have asked. Sometimes he was as bad as Hank. His blunt candor had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion. His mother had told him not to ask women such personal questions but he really wanted to know.

  “I was just wondering,” he said.

  “I’m twenty-three. Why were you wondering?”

  He glanced at her, his gaze moving quickly from her face to her white tennis shoes. “Don’t you have a boyfriend? You’re kind of old to still be single.”

  She pressed a hand against her chest and laughed. “Wow! I didn’t think so but you obviously do. It’s not as if I’m an old maid. Is it?”

  He laughed, too, relieved that she wasn’t angry with him. “Ne, you’re definitely not old, but by Amish standards, you would be considered on the edge of becoming a spinster.”

  Her mouth dropped open and a bit of mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Really? A spinster, huh?”

  Actually, by Amish standards, she already was but he couldn’t think of her that way. Not this lovely, intelligent woman.

  “How old are you?” she asked, turning the tables on him.

  “Twenty-five. My mudder fears I will become a dried-up old bachelor, useful to no one.”

  “I doubt that. You have been a lot of use to me. Look at all the good work you’ve already done.”

  He turned away and studied the two sawhorses he’d set up on the front porch for cutting boards. “But I have no sons and no daughters to take up my work once I am old. I have no one to pass on my knowledge and my faith to.”

  She hesitated. “If it makes a difference, I was engaged once, but it...it didn’t work out.”

  He caught an expression of pain in her eyes, but then it was gone so fast that he thought he must have imagined it. He nodded, wishing he’d kept his big mouth shut. It wasn’t his business and he couldn’t help thinking this was one of those times when his mother would have told him he was too curious and bold for an Amish man.

  “I can’t imagine you never marrying,” she said.

  He tilted his head and gazed at her with amazement. “Why do you say that?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “You seem like a family man, that’s all. The way you handle yourself. The way you act with Hank. You should be married with an adoring wife and a passel of children around you.”

  He laughed. “I’m afraid my mudder and vadder both agree with you.” He agreed, too, but what could he do? He couldn’t produce a wife for himself out of thin air.

  “So, why haven’t you married?” she asked.

  He tried to swallow, his throat suddenly dry as sandpaper. “I guess I haven’t found the right girl.”

  “Me either. Or rather, I haven’t found the right guy.”

  He smiled at that.

  “Unfortunately, it’s not quite that easy to find a suitable spouse, is it?” She glanced down, and her face flushed a pretty shade of pink.

  “Ne, it certainly hasn’t been for me.”

  “Frankly, I think I’m better off staying single.”

  He almost gasped out loud but caught himself in time. Not marry? Stay single? He could hardly contemplate such a situation. Not for himself and not for her.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Love hurts too much. If I don’t fall in love, I can’t be hurt. It’s that simple. I’d rather focus on my soap business and build some security for my mom and me. Then I’m in control. I get to say what happens in my life and I’m not at the whim and pleasure of someone who doesn’t really care about me.”

  He nodded his assent. “It is true that if you don’t love, you won’t be hurt. But you also won’t have the joy. And besides, if you marry a man who really loves you, he would never want to hurt you.”

  “Have you been in love before?” she asked.

  “Ne.”

  “Then how can you know for sure?”

  “I sense it in here.” He touched his chest, just over his heart. “When I find the right person, I will know. I’ll give my whole heart to her and she’ll give her whole heart to me. It will be amazing. I know it.”

  She was quiet for a moment, her face filled with such sadness that he thought she might cry. “I
have loved before but he didn’t love me in return. He used me. He abandoned me when I needed him most. It hurt more than I can say. Love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, Martin. It can be brutal, cruel and destructive.”

  He realized what she said was true. And yet, he couldn’t give up hope. Not for himself. And not for her. He just couldn’t. “But it can be wundervoll, too.”

  “For you, perhaps.”

  “For you, as well. You must have faith. Don’t give up on the Lord,” he said.

  Her lips trembled and he thought she was holding back the tears. “Faith is good for you and other people but it hasn’t worked for me. Still, I want to have faith. I want to believe that God really cares for me.”

  Her words bludgeoned his heart. He hated the thought that this beautiful woman would give up on love. To him, it was the same as giving up on Gott.

  “He does. You can believe that. You mustn’t give up on finding someone to love,” he said.

  She looked away. “I don’t know if I’m willing to try it a second time.”

  He didn’t know what to say. He hated that someone had hurt her so badly.

  “Well, I’ve got some soap to cut into bars,” she said, clearly changing the subject.

  “You made soap?”

  She nodded. “Just a double batch in my kitchen last night. I want to send off some samples to commercial vendors, to see if I can get some more wholesale contracts. I also want to ensure we have enough bars to stock the store for our grand opening the first of December. So, I’d better get back to work.”

  “Ja, me, too.”

  He picked up a board he had already measured and marked with a pencil. With several quick movements, he cut through the wood with his handsaw. When he turned, she was gone. And just like that, his chest felt empty inside.

  To take his mind off their conversation, he focused on his work. With Hank occupied upstairs with Sharon, Martin got one entire set of shelves completed before it was time to go home.

  As if on cue, Julia returned and accompanied him outside. Her interest in prayer a few days earlier when he and Hank had been eating lunch had delighted him and he felt compelled to ask a question that had been weighing heavily on his mind all afternoon.

  “Would you like to attend church with me tomorrow?” he asked.

  Her smile dropped like a stone and she hesitated, hugging herself against the chilly wind. “I, um, I’m not sure.”

  “We only hold Church Sunday every other week,” he hurried on before she could say no. “We hold services in our barns because they’re big enough to hold the entire Gmay. Each familye in the congregation takes turns hosting the meetings. Tomorrow, church will be held at my parents’ farm.”

  “Oh. Where do you live?” she asked.

  “Three miles outside of town, along Cherry Creek.”

  “Ja, we live just off the county road,” Hank interjected.

  Martin whirled around as his brother joined them. He held a huge cinnamon roll that dripped with white icing. Opening wide, he took a big bite before speaking with a full mouth. “Look what Sharon gave me.”

  “Mrs. Rose,” Martin corrected the boy.

  Hank ignored his brother as he swallowed and smiled at Julia. “You want one? Your mom has lots upstairs.”

  “Maybe later.” Julia smiled before turning back to Martin.

  “If you’re interested in prayer, I figure you could learn more at church,” Martin said.

  Though she insisted she’d given up on love, Martin wasn’t so sure. Her interest in prayer meant there was a glimmer of hope inside her. But then he reconsidered.

  Why had he asked? It was presumptuous and rude and much too forward of him. She was an Englischer, after all. His parents might not approve of him inviting her to church.

  “I...I think I’d like that very much. But how will I get out there? I don’t own a car,” she said.

  She wanted to go!

  A feeling of relief and pure panic enveloped Martin at the same time. Relief because he really wanted her to come to church and panic because he knew she was an outsider and he wasn’t sure how she would take it all in. It was rare for an Englischer to attend their church, which was spoken entirely in Pennsylvania Dutch and German. Julia wouldn’t understand what was going on. Everything might seem odd to her and he didn’t want to alienate her.

  Hank waved a hand in the air before licking icing off his thick fingers. “We can come get you.”

  Martin nodded. “Ja, I’ll pick you up in the buggy and bring you home afterward.”

  “And you can be my girl,” Hank said.

  Martin gasped, then coughed. “Hank...”

  Julia’s eyes widened, then she smiled. “I’m definitely your friend, Hank.”

  “My girlfriend?” the boy asked, looking way too eager.

  Julia hesitated, seeming to choose her words carefully. “Well, I’m a girl and I’m your friend. But I’m much too old for you.”

  The boy’s face lit up like a house on fire. “Ach, so you’re my maedel.”

  Julia looked confused. And little wonder. She didn’t speak Deitsch and had no idea that Hank had just called her his girl.

  Martin bit his tongue to keep from scolding his brother. At least not now, in front of Julia.

  She blinked, turning her attention back to Martin. “Isn’t it a rather long distance for you to drive your horse just to pick me up for church?”

  “Not at all. That’s how I get here to work every day and that’s what our horses are for. Your mudder is invited, as well,” Martin said.

  There. That was gut. If her mother accompanied them, it wouldn’t seem so odd to the members of the Gmay. After all, he didn’t want his parents or siblings to believe he was interested in Julia romantically, because he wasn’t. No, not at all.

  A dubious expression covered her face. “I doubt Mom would like to come but I’ll invite her just in case. Are you sure you don’t mind picking me up?”

  “Ne, it would be my pleasure. But I would like to make one request.”

  “And what is that?”

  He cleared his throat, which felt suddenly tight. “That you keep an open mind at everything you see and hear and try to feel with your heart. Try not to make any judgments until I can clarify things for you.”

  As Martin explained about the language barrier and that she might not understand everything that went on at church, Hank continued to stare at Julia with open adoration.

  “Don’t worry if there is something you can’t understand. Things may seem odd at first but we have a reason for everything we do. I promise to expand on it afterward, during the ride when I bring you home. I’ll answer all your questions then,” Martin said.

  She smiled happily. “Of course. We’ll have a long chat. Thank you. I’d like to join you very much.”

  Martin exhaled a slow breath, hoping his invitation wasn’t a mistake. It was too late to take back his offer now. Instead, he told her what time he would need to collect her so they wouldn’t be late for services.

  “I’ll be ready,” she said.

  He nodded, then loaded his toolbox in the back of his wagon. While he herded Hank into the buggy, Julia didn’t leave the front porch. She stood watching them with a thoughtful expression tugging at her forehead. As he drove out of the parking lot, she waved and a feeling of absolute dread swept over Martin.

  Now he’d done it. He’d only recently met Julia, yet he wanted nothing more than to teach her about his faith. To help her understand his beliefs and perhaps discover her own relationship with Gott. Faith was such a huge part of Martin’s life. It governed everything he did and he loved it dearly, but his people didn’t actively proselytize. They never saw the need to share their religion with outsiders and preferred to show their beliefs in their daily living.

  So what would Bishop Yoder say when he
discovered Martin had invited an unmarried Englisch woman and her mother to church? Worse yet, what would Martin’s parents say? As an older unmarried man, he was already fodder for the gossips in his Gmay. The last thing he needed was to be associated with an Englisch woman.

  Yet he couldn’t help it. He felt compelled to invite her. And he couldn’t take the invitation back. Not now that she had accepted. He’d just have to move forward and hope for the best.

  Chapter Five

  “You’re not serious.”

  Sharon Rose stared at her daughter with absolute astonishment. Sitting at the dinner table that evening, Julia set her spoon on the table, her stew growing cold in the bowl. She had just told her mom about Martin’s invitation to attend church in the morning. But she hated the look of frosty abhorrence in her mother’s eyes. Maybe it had been a mistake to tell her. Maybe she should back out.

  “I’m very serious, Mom. We’ve both been invited.”

  Mom gave a caustic laugh as she reached for a freshly baked roll, squishing it in her grasp. “Well, I sure won’t be attending. Not in a million years.” She threw a glance at Julia. “I thought you were going to make another batch of soap to cure before our grand opening.”

  “I’ve made a number of single batches almost every evening since we arrived in Colorado and they’re curing nicely. It won’t hurt to take time off to worship God. Don’t worry. We’ll have enough soap for our grand opening and to mail off to vendors, too.”

  “You’re not really planning to attend the Amish church, are you?” Mom asked.

  Julia reached for her glass and took a sip of warm milk before answering slowly. “Yes, I am.”

  Mom’s lips tightened. “It’s that young man, isn’t it? Martin. You find him attractive.”

  It was a statement, not a question.

  “Martin is just our handyman, nothing more. You didn’t mind the two times when I went to Bible study with Debbie. Dallin went with us, too.”

  She had listened to a couple of people pray at these meetings but had never done so herself.

  “That was different,” Mom said.