A Simple Christmas Wish (8 page)

Wearing a long white nightgown, Sarah came over to check her progress. “I can sleep on the cot, if you want to sleep with Holly in my bed,” she offered generously.

“But I want to sleep with
you
, Sarah,” Holly insisted as
she tugged on her pink Hello Kitty pajama top. “Aunt Rachel can sleep on the cot.”

Rachel tried not to feel slighted by this surprising preference, but suddenly it was like Rachel was in grade school again, being pushed aside by one friend for another. Still, as she slipped into her own silky pajamas, by herself in the bathroom, since it felt strange to dress in front of the young girls, she decided that her reaction was perfectly silly. Besides, she would rather sleep alone.

Like little girls at a sleepover, Sarah and Holly had some trouble settling down for the night, and eventually, Holly begged Rachel to read to them from her favorite bedtime storybook. “It will help me go to sleep,” Holly pointed out.

“I can read it to you,” Sarah offered kindly.

“Okay,” Holly gladly agreed. “I’ll bet you’re a good reader.”

And so, for the second time that night, Rachel felt slightly displaced . . . or replaced. But, once again, she told herself it was perfectly ridiculous. She should be happy for Holly’s sake. How fun for her to have this special night with her cousin. She hoped that’s all it was. Just a one-night sleepover. Somehow, they had to get out of this place by tomorrow. Rachel was determined.

After the girls had finally drifted off to sleep, and the rest of the house grew quiet—as in
completely quiet
—Rachel became unbearably restless. Tossing and turning on the lumpy cot, she knew she was never going to be able to go to sleep. Normally, she would get out of bed and read until she was sleepy when she felt like this, but she didn’t want to get up and stumble around the very dark house. Yet the idea of lighting one of those lanterns and creeping around was equally
unsettling, so she remained in the uncomfortable little bed with all her uncomfortable big thoughts and desperately hoped that morning would come quickly. This was what came from getting that last coffee when she’d filled up with gas just before coming here. The caffeine was playing havoc with her nerves.

After a while, she realized her anxiety was not related to the double espresso as much as to plain old fear. The truth was she was scared to death. She’d been trying to be positive, hoping for the best, but underneath it all, she was afraid she was really going to lose Holly. In fact, it already felt like she was losing her—and they’d only been here a few hours.

She couldn’t even imagine what tomorrow would be like. Lydia had made it clear they had church in the morning. Rachel knew that Lydia expected Holly to go with them—and she suspected that Lydia wanted Rachel to be on her way by then. How could Rachel possibly leave Holly behind? Why hadn’t Michael and Miri considered the consequences of their poorly thought out decision to do this? How dare they go and die, leaving Holly’s life hanging in the balance like this? As much as Rachel missed them and wished they were still here, she also felt very angry with them, infuriated by their shortsightedness . . . and their selfishness. Their foolishness was going to cost Holly and Rachel everything.

Finally, feeling totally helpless, Rachel knew the only thing she could do, the only power she really had, was to pray, and so she asked God to intervene on her behalf. “Please, make Lydia understand that I need Holly and that Holly needs me. Let us be on our way out of here first thing in the morning.” She prayed this silently but fervently—and several times for
emphasis. As she said “amen,” she believed God was listening, and that he was going to be merciful.

When she got up the next morning, she looked out the window to see a thick blanket of snow on the ground. She knew that driving all the way back to Chicago in the Karmann Ghia was no longer an option. She also knew that the closest airport was probably in Cleveland. The Karmann Ghia wouldn’t be safe for that long of a trip either. Not in this weather. Even if it was a risk she could take for herself, she wouldn’t think of taking it for Holly. For the time being she seemed stuck here . . . but maybe that was a good thing.

7

Once again, Rachel got dressed in the privacy of the bathroom, but when she came out she saw that Ezra and Noah were waiting. Despite their blank expressions, she could see the impatience in their stances and suspected that there were time limits for using the only bathroom.

“I’m sorry,” she told them as she hurried out with her pale pink pajamas bundled in her arms. When she got back to Sarah’s bedroom, she was surprised to see that Holly’s dress was still lying on the bed. “Why aren’t you dressed?” Rachel picked up the green velvet Christmas dress. She had felt this was the most acceptable thing for church, but there was Holly wearing what looked like a white slip and long black stockings, and Sarah, already dressed, was pulling a cornflower blue dress over Holly’s head.

“What are you doing?” Rachel asked as she laid her pajamas on the cot. “Why aren’t you wearing your own dress, Holly?”

“Sarah and Aunt Lydia got me an Amish dress to wear,” Holly said proudly. “I get to dress like them today, Aunt Rachel.” She spun around to show off her long dress. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Sarah giggled. “It’s not beautiful, Holly. It’s plain. And plain is good.”

“Well, I think it’s beautiful too,” Holly insisted.

“Now hold still while I pin the apron on,” Sarah instructed.

To Rachel’s horror, Sarah had a bunch of straight pins, the kind Rachel’s mother had once used for sewing, and was pinning the white apron and some sort of shawl over the dress. “What are you doing?” Rachel asked.

“Pinning her apron and cape,” Sarah explained.

“But those pins—they’ll poke her.” Rachel felt angry. Not only did the cotton dress look too cool for winter, it was unsafe to secure those other pieces with straight pins. “I really don’t think you should pin it like that. It looks dangerous.”

“No, she will be fine,” Sarah assured her. She looked at Rachel with clear blue eyes but a confused expression. “We
always
pin our clothes like this.” She turned around to show Rachel her own apron and cape. “See?”

“But don’t the pins poke you?”

“No.” Sarah made a tolerant smile, as if she were reassuring a child. “If you pin them right, you are fine.” She showed her how it was done, but Rachel still felt skeptical. She’d never heard of pinning clothing on to a child like that.

“Sarah,” Rachel said firmly, “I do
not
want Holly to get hurt by these ridiculous pins. What if a pin slips out and stabs her?”

“That will
not
happen.” Lydia’s figure shadowed the doorway. “Sarah knows how to pin clothes properly. You need not trouble yourself, Rachel.”

Rachel frowned at her. “But it seems unsafe.”

“It is how we do it here. It is how we have done it for
generations.” Lydia, predictably, was dressed identically to Sarah and Holly. Even her dress was blue, although it was darker.

“But why?”

Lydia gave her an exasperated expression. “We do not have time for this now.” Lydia looked carefully at Holly as if inspecting her. “The dress is good on her,” she told Sarah. “And it is good that Holly’s shoes are black, but they are not plain enough.”

Rachel wanted to ask why everything had to be so doggoned plain but knew she wouldn’t get an answer.

“Come, come,” Lydia said. “Hurry and be ready,
maed.
It is time for breakfast and then we go to church.”

Rachel watched as Sarah continued with Holly, brushing her hair back and struggling to put it into a very short ponytail. “I don’t think there’s enough here yet to make a bun,” Sarah told her. “But it will grow . . . in time.” She made a
tsk-tsk
sound. “A girl should never cut her hair.” She reached to the dresser for a white bonnet that looked just like the one she was wearing. “Now, for your
kapp
.”

“My cap?” Holly tilted her head to one side.

“Hold still,” Sarah insisted as she secured the
kapp
to Holly’s head. Thankfully she did not use straight pins to do this. Instead, she used four large bobby pins and seemed to know exactly how to do it. “There,” she said proudly. “You are ready.”

Holly looked at Rachel now. “What about you?”

Rachel held up her hands. “What do you mean—what about me?”

“Where’s
your
Amish dress, Aunt Rachel? Sarah says that to go to Amish church you must wear an Amish dress.”

Rachel shrugged. “Then I guess I won’t be going to church today.”

Holly frowned. “But you
have
to go.”

Rachel shook her head but was secretly relieved. Some alone time was sounding good right now. “I’m sorry, Holly. I just don’t see how I can go without a dress. You’ll have to go without me, but when you get back you must promise to tell me all about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” Holly nodded with uncertainty.

“Now we must hurry to eat breakfast,” Sarah instructed, and taking Holly’s hand, she hurried out of the room and down the stairs.

Rachel grabbed up Holly’s fur-trimmed scarlet hood and headed downstairs too. She chuckled at the bright coat. At least
that
would show some of Holly’s individuality!

Breakfast was oatmeal, but thankfully there was coffee too. Without saying anything to Lydia, Rachel helped herself to a cup, then almost wished she hadn’t. Did they really drink this stuff? After doctoring it with cream and sugar, which she normally wouldn’t do, she went to the table and sat down next to Holly. Sarah was nearly done with her oatmeal, but Holly was picking at hers, and Rachel knew it wasn’t the kind Holly was used to.

“Daniel and the boys have gone next door to set up the benches,” Lydia told Rachel as she set a bowl of oatmeal in front of her.

“The benches?” Rachel looked down at the clumpy oatmeal and wondered if she was really hungry.

“For church,” Sarah explained. “It’s at Mammi’s barn today.”

“Mammi’s barn?” Holly questioned. “Who is Mammi and why is church in a barn and not in a church?”

“Mammi is your grandmother,” Sarah told her.

“I have a grandmother?” Holly’s eyes grew large.

“
Ja.
She was your mudder’s mudder and mine too,” Lydia explained. “And church is always in a barn, Holly. Everyone takes turns having it. The men go early to set up benches. Usually we go in the buggy, but today is good because we can walk. We do not need to harness up the horse.”

Holly looked disappointed. “No horse and buggy?” she asked.

“Not today,
liebschen.
” Lydia smiled. “Another day we will go in the buggy.”

Holly poked at her oatmeal.

“You do not like oatmeal?” Lydia asked.

“She’s used to a different kind,” Rachel told her.

“Oh . . .” Lydia went to a cupboard. “I know how to make her like it.” She quickly returned with a jar of brown sugar and a square of butter. “Try it like this, Holly.”

To Rachel’s surprise, Holly loved the improved oatmeal. Rachel was glad to see she was getting something solid in her tummy, but still, she felt dismayed . . . as if she was steadily losing her.

“Sarah tells me you are not going to church,” Lydia said to Rachel, but Rachel could tell by the gleam in Lydia’s eyes that she was pleased with this news. “And that is best, I think. You will want to get an early start on your travels.”

“My travels?”

Lydia’s heavy, dark brows arched. “
Ja.
You are going home today,
recht
?”

Rachel waved her hand toward the bare window, wondering why none of their windows had curtains—just one more thing she did not understand. “I don’t really see how I can drive in all that snow.”

“Oh, that is nothing, that snow. You can drive in it just fine.”

“Have you seen our car?” Rachel asked. “It’s not exactly made for these kind of driving conditions.”

“Surely your car can drive through a little snow.” Lydia looked unimpressed. “And the main road will be better, I think.”

Rachel didn’t want to go into all the reasons why she couldn’t drive back to Chicago this morning—primarily because she was not ready to abandon her only niece. She decided that if there were things Lydia didn’t have time to explain—like why one pinned clothing on to young children—then perhaps she shouldn’t expect Rachel to explain why she didn’t want to drive a little old sports car over dangerous snowy roads.

Fortunately, Lydia didn’t pursue this topic further. Instead, she hurried the girls through breakfast, then insisted it was time to go. When Rachel went to get Holly’s red coat, however, Lydia held up her hands. “No, no, that will not do.” Instead, she pulled out a dark gray sort of cloak, wrapping it around Holly. It didn’t seem very substantial.

“But you’re going to be in a barn,” Rachel pointed out. “Will she be warm enough in that? Her parka is down-filled, and that cotton dress is thin.”

“She will be good,” Lydia said. “It is how we do it here.” She locked eyes with Rachel now, as if inviting her to challenge this.

Rachel just sighed. “Well, she’d better not come down with pneumonia or I’ll be taking her straight back to Chicago with me. Even if we have to charter a plane to get there.”

Lydia’s eyes flashed, but instead of responding, she just played the part of a mother hen, ushering the girls out of the kitchen. “Hurry, hurry. We do not want to be late,
kinder
.”

The house grew very quiet with everyone gone, and for a long time, Rachel just sat at the dining table, gazing out the window over the vast white snowy fields with occasional trees and other homesteads and barns to break it up. It was truly beautiful . . . peaceful . . . bucolic . . . serene. This would be a lovely location for a home—that is, if it were a more modern home and not smack in the middle of this weird Amish community.

She could imagine a comfortable house with central heat and appliances and a TV or source of music, as well as a few of the other modern comforts. And perhaps instead of the plain woodstove, it would have a tall stone fireplace with a crackling fire. Thinking of this reminded her of how Daniel had kept the fire going last night. She wondered if she should do something to keep it going now. She wasn’t very familiar with woodstoves, but it seemed simple enough to put a piece or two of wood in it. Finding only a few sticks of wood in the woodbox next to it, she carefully opened the door and, seeing only red coals, decided to slip these last pieces in. It was better than nothing. Besides, if the fire ran out, it seemed that the house would chill down significantly. She’d have thought these practical-minded people would’ve thought of this. However, they seemed somewhat oblivious to their own comfort. Their furniture was hard, their clothes
were funny, and their bathroom . . . well, she didn’t even want to get thinking on the fact that a family of six, and their two guests who made eight, shared one single bathroom.