A Christmas Bride in Pinecraft (7 page)

She didn't follow. “So?”

“So, holidays come in spite of troubles. Friendships and family still matter even when we are sick or troubled. Life happens.”

“I know, but—”

“We can't just sit still and worry, Beverly. The rest of the world doesn't stop when we do.”

“I suppose it doesn't, at that.”

“Then, let's move forward, too. After all, what other option is there?”

“None, I suppose.”

“All right, you get busy in here. I'll be back soon.”

Once Eric was gone, Beverly turned back to the pantry. As
always, it was immaculate and neatly organized. Before the robbery, the pantry had been one of the things in her life she was most proud of. Now it seemed like nothing more than a surplus of food. She frowned but then remembered what all those ingredients could eventually be made into.

And how much Eric liked homemade meals.

Maybe it was time to make something special for him. She needed to do something to ease things between them. And to make amends for betraying his trust. Even if he never found out that she'd shared his story with Ginny Kaufmann she knew that it hadn't been the nicest thing to do. If she couldn't let him know how much he meant to her through words, she would have to show him through her actions.

At the very least, it was worth a try.

M
ark Hilty knew he shouldn't be hanging around the Quick Stop, the small convenience store on Bahia Vista that most of the Englisher tourists favored, but Laura Beachy worked there.

And lately, wherever Laura was, he wanted to be there, too. Luckily, it usually wasn't too busy this time of day. Which meant he'd have her all to himself.

“How much longer until you get off this afternoon?” he asked her, trying not to stare at her long blond hair like he usually did.

“The same as always,” she said in mock annoyance. “Six o'clock.”

“One more hour.” He smiled.

“Yep. One more hour, then you can walk me home.”

“Or you can come home with me to the farm.” His father
owned an organic farm that was open to the public. They'd moved to Sarasota a couple of months ago from Charm, Ohio, after Mark's
mamm
had passed away. At first the move had been kind of hard, though he would never have told his father that.

When they'd arrived, his
daed
had given him the option of attending high school. At first he'd said no in favor of helping with the family farm, but at the beginning of November, he'd changed his mind. On his first day of school, he'd met Laura. She'd been wearing loose jeans and a faded blue shirt that matched her eyes. He'd thought she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

“I'll think about coming over. I love seeing your stepsisters.”

“Yeah, they're cute.” That was another big change. His father had fallen in love with a widowed mother of three little girls. Mark, his older brother Ben, and younger brother William, had been taken aback at first, but had come to love both Emma and her daughters. Emma was a great mother and she made their father really happy.

So things were finally going well.

“I could come over for a couple of hours.”

“Great. Emma's cooking.”

“Then I'm definitely coming over,” she teased, then stilled as the shop's door opened.

Mark turned around, wondering about her reaction. When he saw it was Peter Yoder, he understood. Peter was their age, but like most Amish kids, had stopped going to school after the eighth grade.

That was where the similarities ended, though. Most Amish guys Mark knew were working with their fathers or apprentic
ing with a local business. No one had any idea what Peter did. It was obvious that his family didn't have a lot of money; Peter always looked like he needed to wash his clothes better and get some that actually fit.

Immediately, Mark felt guilty for even thinking that. Laura had told him that Peter's mother had died a couple of years ago, and Mark knew all about making due without a mother.

“Hey, Peter,” Laura said.

“Hi,” he replied. When he noticed Mark standing there, he nodded. “Hi. Mark, right?”

“
Jah
. Hi.” They'd met at Pinecraft Park when he'd first moved there and had even seen each other at church, but they'd never really had much occasion to talk.

Peter looked at them both a little awkwardly and Laura cleared her throat. “Can I help ya with something?”

“
Nee
. I, um, came in for a couple of things.”

“Oh, sure.” She smiled again, then started fiddling with the stack of plastic cups on the counter.

When Peter picked up a mesh basket and started walking up and down the aisles, popping all kinds of things into it, Mark exchanged glances with Laura. Buying so many things at the Quick Mart was pretty unusual. Prices were higher here than just about anywhere else. Most people simply ran into the store to grab a quart of milk or a can of soda or a couple of candy bars. Hardly anyone ever picked up a basket.

He'd sure never seen anyone picking up so much stuff at one time.

Annoyed with himself for judging the guy yet again, Mark leaned on the counter. “Everyone's talking about the Christ
mas parade,” he said to get their attention off Peter. “Do you ever go?”

“Oh,
jah
. Everyone goes.”

“Maybe we could sit together?”

“Maybe,” she teased. “But if you want to sit with me, you're going to have to come early. Everyone starts staking out spots around noon.”

“I'll ask Emma and my
daed
what time they want to eat on Christmas, then I'll let you know.”

She smiled softly, making his insides turn to mush. He really liked her but he didn't know what kind of future they had. She'd told him when her family had first moved to Sarasota, she'd been Amish, too. Now, at age sixteen, she was as English as any girl who'd grown up watching TV or using a computer. He'd never even seen her in a dress. She pretty much wore only jeans and T-shirts.

From what she said, at first her parents had stayed true to their beliefs, but after a time they'd slowly drifted away from their church. Then, when Laura was seven, her father had received the chance to work at the airport for a lot more money, and he'd decided to break away from the church entirely. And though her parents' decision was the result of weeks and months of prayer and debating, Laura had told Mark that it had still felt sudden: one day she was Amish, and the next she wasn't.

Mark was still in the middle of his
rumspringa
, which meant that his
daed
was letting him see Laura without a bit of criticism or a word of caution. But if they got serious, that would change.
His
daed
would likely try to put a stop to things. He'd made no secret that he hoped Mark and his brothers would eventually join the church and marry Amish girls.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Peter walked up to the counter, his basket pretty much overflowing.

Laura pulled the basket close to the cash register. “So, are you trying to empty our shelves or something?” she joked.

Peter started, looked a little embarrassed, and then seemed to catch himself. “Nah. Just, um, doing a little shopping.”

Mark gave him an understanding look. “She's just kidding.”

Peter shrugged. “I, uh, didn't have time to run over to Yoder's.”

“Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you're here. I need something to do,” Laura quipped.

“Hey,” Mark said. “You said you liked hanging out with me.”

“I do, but I'm supposed to be working, too.” She smiled at Peter.

When Peter smiled hesitantly back, Mark felt a little jealous—until he noticed that Laura was looking pretty uncomfortable. As she rang up the cans of soup and set them in a paper sack, she said awkwardly, “I love this soup.”

Peter looked at her curiously. “Why? It's just vegetable.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Mark interjected. It was obvious that Laura was merely trying to ease the tension between them all. “Vegetable soup is great. It tastes great and it's
gut
for you, too.” The moment he said the words, he wished he could take them back. He sounded like an advertisement.

“It's low in fat, too,” Laura added.

“I'll keep that in mind.” For the first time since he'd walked
up to the counter, Peter looked relaxed. “Just for the record, Laura, you don't have to worry about eating anything low fat.”

“
Danke
. I mean, thanks.” Laura's cheeks bloomed.

Peter chuckled. “Listen to you. I guess you haven't forgotten all of your Deutsch?”

“Of course not.”

Mark moved a little farther away, letting the two of them talk without him looming. Their easy conversation reminded Mark that Laura and Peter had been friends for years.

Laura had told him that once she'd stopped being Amish, a lot of kids had teased her. For a while she'd had quite a time fitting into a new group. She wasn't worldly enough for most English kids but was too different for most Amish kids to accept her. She'd constantly made mistakes and was teased. However, her friendship with Peter had stayed true, so Mark didn't feel too concerned about Laura's smiles for him.

Well, he
tried
not to be too concerned.

“Peter, you still look Amish. Are you?” she teased as she continued to ring up his items.

“I was last time I checked. I'll let you know if something changes though.”

She rang up a box of cereal. And then a quart of milk. Mark was starting to think Peter's purchases were pretty strange. Not only did it seem weird that he was the one buying groceries instead of an adult, it would definitely be cheaper for him to shop someplace else. So why was Peter really there? Did he like Laura after all?

“So, are you two dating?” Peter asked suddenly.

Mark stepped closer.
“Jah.”

Meeting Mark's gaze, Laura blushed then picked up a can of chili. “What about you, Peter? Are you seeing anybody?”

“
Nee
. I, uh, don't have time for a girlfriend.”

“I guess not, seeing as you're spending your afternoons grocery shopping and all,” Mark said.

Like a switch had been flipped, Peter's expression shuttered. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“
Nee
,” Mark said quickly, wishing that he hadn't let his jealousy get the best of him. If his older brother, Ben, were there, he'd be calling him a jerk. Anxious to make amends, he said, “Sorry. I don't know why I said that.”

But instead of responding, Peter kept his focus solely on Laura. “How much do I owe ya?”

Looking contrite, Laura said, “Twenty-eight dollars.”

After pulling out a wad of bills, Peter peeled off three tens. “Here.”

Trying not to stare at the amount of cash remaining in Peter's grasp, Mark kept silent while Laura hurried to give Peter change. “Here ya go.”

He grabbed a sack with one hand. “
Danke
, Laura.”

“Sure.” After exchanging a glance with Mark, she said, “I'll see you around.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Now ignoring Mark completely, Peter picked up his other two bags and walked out the door.

After watching Peter dart across the parking lot, Mark turned to Laura. “Well, that was weird.”

She nodded. “Yes, it was.” Resting her elbows on the counter, she said, “I've known him for years, Mark, but I've never seen him act like that. He looked nervous.”

“I thought so, too.”

She bit her lip. “I thought at first it was because you were here, but now, I don't know.”

“I've talked to him a couple of times. I never got the impression that his family had much money.”

“I don't think they do.” Still staring out the window, she said, “Their home isn't very nice and his clothes and stuff always look kind of worn and used.”

“So how come he has all that money?” Mark asked. “Laura, I bet he had a couple of hundred dollars in his hand.”

“I sure don't know. Nothing about his visit makes sense, does it?”

Mark shook his head. Laura was right. Peter's visit to the Quick Stop didn't make much sense at all.

M
amm, are you upset with me for bringing Josiah over here yesterday?”

The idea had been bothering Effie since yesterday but she hadn't been quite sure how to ask her mother. But then, as she'd watched her mother continually gaze out the window after Effie had gotten home from school, almost as if she were expecting more people to come barging into their house, she had known it was time to say something.

Her mother popped her head up in surprise. “Not at all. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Except that you seemed pretty sad when he left.” Grasping at straws, she continued. “Did Josiah upset you or something?”

“Of course not. He's a polite young man.” Her mother gazed out the window for another long moment before continuing. “But you are not wrong, dear. I guess I have been feeling a little off-kilter ever since he left.”

“Why?”

“I know you're in middle school now, but when I was with you in the grade school building, I had the occasion to work with Josiah and his older brother, Peter.”

Effie had forgotten that with her position as a teacher's aide, her mother knew just about every child in the school system. “What's wrong with that? Josiah is really smart. Even in math.”

“Oh, you're right about that. He is smart. His brother Peter was, too.” She glanced over to the kitchen table where Effie and Josiah had sat yesterday. “I guess I'm simply a little worried about those boys.” More quietly, she added, “I'm also a little upset with myself for forgetting about them. Amazing how sometimes things really are out of mind when they're out of one's sight.”

“Why would you be worried about him at all? I told you, Mamm, he's just about the most popular boy in my class. Everyone likes him.”

“There is more to life than popularity, Effie,” she chided.

“I know that,” Effie retorted, feeling stung. “I'm just trying to say that you don't have anything to worry about. Josiah is not only smart, he makes very good grades.”

“Effie, there's more to a person than being smart, too.” She sighed. “You may not have known this, but his mother passed away a couple of years ago. From what I remember, she'd been
ill for several months before she went on to heaven. Since then, I think their family has really suffered.”

“Poor Josiah.” Effie hadn't known about Josiah's mother passing. Until last year, she had been so introverted because of her Perthes disease that she hadn't made any friends. Besides, Josiah was fairly closemouthed about his family. But even still, it seemed a little odd that her mother was so concerned. “Are you worried about Peter and Josiah because they're still grieving?”

“
Nee
, dear. I meant financially.” She took a deep breath. “I think he's going hungry.”

Effie was shocked. “Mamm, he's never said anything about being hungry. If he would have said something, I would've tried to help him.”

“Most kids aren't going to talk about bad things going on at home.” She turned from the window and walked to Effie's side. “Especially not about something like being hungry or not having food. People like you and me take good meals for granted.”

Her mother probably had a point. Effie had certainly never thought about how blessed she was to have plenty to eat.

Then the worst sort of doubts hit her hard—the selfish ones. “Mamm, do you think that's why Josiah came over? For the food?”

“I think he came over because he likes spending time with you. You two are friends.” Looking at her sternly, her mother added, “Don't make this about you, Effie. I'm genuinely worried about him.”

“What can we do?”

“You can be his friend. Continue to ask him over once a week.”

“Mamm, you already asked him to walk home from the bus with me a few times a week.”

“That is true, I did. But I can promise that your invitation is going to mean so much more than mine. Please promise me that you'll continue to ask him over.”

“I can do that. What else?”

“I think that's all, at least for now. He needs your friendship more than anything.” She pursed her lips. “But I can do something more. I'm going to go over to the Borntragers' old farm. Emma married the owner, you know. She's such a dear, and I know she'll really feel for Josiah's
daed
and his boys. Emma might have an idea about how to donate some food without embarrassing the family.”

Hearing her mother's plan made it all seem more real. “How could I not have guessed that Josiah needed food?”

“Because rarely do we want the rest of the world to know our faults,” her mother said.

“But if he's going hungry—”

“Effie, how many days have your legs really pained you but yet you've said nothing?”

Effie felt her cheeks flush. The truth was she'd probably hidden her pain more times than she could count. “I guess you have a point.”

“But before you give yourself too hard a time, please remember that this isn't your fault. You didn't know about this because he didn't want you to know. And you're a child. If anyone is at fault, it is me. I remember several ladies at school worrying
about those boys, but all we did was gossip and talk about things that we should do for them. Unfortunately we never
did
anything. Well, this time I'm going to do something. Actions speak louder than words, you know.”

“I know, Mamm.” Right then and there, Effie vowed to let her actions speak louder than her words, too. And suddenly, she needed to do something for Josiah. To concentrate on someone else's needs, rather than her own.

Why, if she could help Josiah have a better Christmas, that would surely be the best gift she could ever hope to give.

“K
NOCK, KNOCK,” A FAMILIAR,
pretty voice called from the foyer. “Aunt Beverly, where are you?”

“I'm down here, Tricia,” Beverly replied from the kitchen floor. She attempted to pop up far enough to catch her niece's eye as she entered.

“Any reason why you're on the floor?”

Oh, but Tricia did have a sense of humor! “I'm looking for another bread pan,” she grumbled.

“Oh, Aunt Bev. Do you need me to come over and organize for you?”

Giving up the search, Beverly got to her feet. “I do. Any chance you came over here to do just that?” Her niece couldn't cook very well, and her cleaning skills weren't much better, but she could organize things better than Beverly ever could. Many a time Beverly had entered the kitchen to find whatever recipe Tricia was working on long forgotten but the spices and seasonings neatly organized and in alphabetical order.

Tricia crossed the room, and she looked so at peace that Beverly felt her spirits lift. “You look beautiful, dear,” she said as she got to her feet and quickly hugged the young woman. “Positively glowing.”

“Danke.”
Tricia hugged her back. “I've been worried about you, though.” When they separated, she asked, “Are you okay?”

Beverly wasn't sure if she was or not. “I'm better,” she said honestly.

“Sure?”

“Positive.” She shook her head when Tricia looked ready to ask a dozen more questions. “I'd much rather talk about you and Ben.”

She shrugged, a faint smile playing on her lips. “We're happy.”

“Married life seems to agree with you.” Tricia was wearing a bright yellow dress that brought out the gold flecks in her green eyes. As pretty as a picture.

“It does, but I'm here to help you. Thank goodness I saw Eric this morning. He said you could use my help.”

“I do—if you are sure you can spare the time?”

“Aunt Beverly, you're being silly. Like I said, I've been worried about you. I tried to call but you didn't pick up the phone.”

I ended up spending the night at the Kaufmanns' house the first night, then Eric arrived. I'm sorry, I should have called.” Noticing that Tricia still looked worried, she added, “Everything will get better. I'll be okay.”

“Especially now that Eric is back.”

Beverly didn't know how to agree with that without revealing too much. “I am glad he came right away.”

“So, what do you need me to do? Help you cook or help you clean?”

“Cook. I want to make some mini cranberry bread loaves and some sour cream Christmas cutouts. And maybe some spiced cider. And we need to make some fresh cinnamon rolls, too.”

Walking to the drawer where Beverly kept all of her long dishtowels, Tricia pulled one out and tied it around her waist. “I'll get to work on the cinnamon roll dough. You look for the bread pans. Then we can tackle the cider.” She looked at the phone. “Would you like me to give Penny a call? I'm sure she could stop by, too. She can work in the guest rooms. No one can make a bed as perfectly as she can.”

Beverly hid a smile, recalling what a poor housekeeper Tricia had been, especially compared to Penny. Penny had shown up one day, desperate for a job and soon became indispensable. Then, all too soon, she'd fallen in love with Michael Knoxx and gotten married. “I don't think we'll need Penny's expertise, but I'll keep that in mind.”

“Okay, but just remember that the only way you'll be overwhelmed is if you don't reach out and ask for help. You are surrounded by people in Pinecraft who would love to return some of your many favors.”

“
Danke
, Tricia. You're right. I am mighty blessed to have so many helping hands at my disposal. Now, tell me about Ben and what you two have been doing. I feel like it's been weeks since you've filled me on your married life.”

Tricia's smile was near blinding. “Are you sure you really want to hear? Because it might take a while.”

“We've got lots of cookies and bread to make. Hours' worth!” she proclaimed. “Tell me everything.”

Tricia rested her elbows on the counter. “Well, first off, I've discovered that Ben is a morning person.”

Beverly pulled out some more measuring cups and started making a batch of Christmas cutouts. Tricia was right, it was obvious that her stories were going to take a while, but Beverly was glad. She was going to treasure every single minute of it.