Snowfall (5 page)

“What kind of cookies are you gonna make?” Meg asked.

“Peanut butter with chocolate kisses in the middle.”

“But I don't think we have any of those chocolates.”

“I brought some,” Ruth said as she located the flour, sugar, peanut butter, and margarine. After measuring out the ingredients, she added two eggs and a dash of vanilla.

“Oh.”

Five minutes later, the twins stopped lurking around the corner and asked if they could help roll cookies in sugar.

“Of course, girls. Get out some saucers so I can pour sugar into them.”

They did as she asked, then followed her movements, making lopsided balls out of the dough, then rolling each in lots of granulated sugar.

Then, in came Gregory, who asked to help put them on the baking sheet. Soon, Thomas and Katrina pulled up chairs, saying they were supposed to watch their siblings.

Every two minutes or so, Ruth would catch one of them eyeing the hamper with something akin to awe in their eyes.

All of them leaned close when she carefully pulled the bag of chocolate from the top of the hamper.

And by the time she'd served each of them no less than three cookies and a glass of milk, Ruth knew that she had better get something besides some coloring books and a box of crayons for tomorrow.

These
kinner
needed activity, and lots of it.

Drastic times called for drastic measures.

Frank didn't mean to eat Daed's flannel shirt, neither. And if he did, I'm sure he's sorry.

Gregory, Age 7

In spite of his best intentions, the sun had already set when Martin returned home. The tree farm had been busy and the work had been hard. His arms were sore and his back had that old, familiar twinge in it that came from hefting trees into the trucks that arrived to take them into town to sell at the Christmas-tree lot out near Walnut Creek.

When he entered the house, everything was quiet, the complete opposite of the usual mess and state of chaos he had become used to.

A note of alarm coursed through him.

After washing his hands in the kitchen, he noticed a large plate of peanut butter cookies. Resting on the stove top was a round casserole dish covered in foil. A tray of roasted potatoes lay right next to it.

And then he heard Ruth's voice floating from the hearth room. Smooth, melodic, and full of emotion, it was lovely.

It seemed that she was reading a story. Hoping she was actually reading to his children and not to herself—he'd never actually witnessed his children sitting still for very long—he followed his ears into the coziest room in the house.

And there they all were, huddled on a pile of thick quilts and blankets covering the oak floor. A pair of logs were burning in the stone fireplace. A vanillascented candle was burning on the mantel.

Meg was curled next to Ruth's feet. The twins were nestled in his favorite leather chair, squished in the middle of it. Their eyes were at half-mast. Sitting in front of Ruth were his two boys and Katrina. Gregory had his arms around Frank.

The scene was as pretty as a picture. Even Frank was gazing up at Ruth with soft brown eyes.

No one was arguing. No one was destroying anything. No one was complaining, or whining.

It was amazing. Truly. Practically a Christmas miracle.

“Didn't think this was possible,” he mumbled to himself, though not quietly enough.

With a start, eight sets of eyes turned to stare at him.

After that tiny pause, Ruth broke the silence, stating the obvious. “Martin, you are back.”

“Ah,
jah
.”

“I hope you had a
gut tawg
?”

When was the last time anyone asked him about his day? Asked him anything about himself? “
Jah
,” he said awkwardly. Again. “My day, it was
gut
.” His gaze skittered over to his children, each of whom was looking at him in a way that made him feel like an interloper.

And because of that, he stood awkwardly in his spot. He didn't know whether he wanted to be dismissed or invited to join them.

When it was obvious that he wasn't about to divulge anything more—after all, what more could he add? Ruth spoke. “Well, now. I am glad to hear that. Our day was good as well.”

“It was?” he blurted, then carefully amended his words. “I mean, um, that is
gut
news.
Wonderful
-
gut.
”

Katrina wrinkled her nose. “
Wonderful-gut
?”

His eldest was right. He had been a touch too enthusiastic. “I'm glad you all had a good day with Ruth.”

Ruth looked amused. “Indeed. Well, I suppose since you are here I had better go.” She snapped the book shut.

Thomas visibly flinched. “Hey, wait a minute!”

“What is wrong, Thomas?”

“You didn't finish the chapter!”

“You are right, but your father is here. And that means it is time for me to leave.”

“But what about Scrooge? What about his ghost?”

“I guess we'll have to see if you
kinner
are interested in what happens to all of them tomorrow.”

“But you don't have to leave yet, do you? I mean, you could read just a little more.”

“I'm sorry, but I cannot. I need to go home. And your
daed
looks most anxious to be with you.” Gazing across at him, she smiled softly, then stood and picked up her hamper. “
Gut
naught, kinner
. I'll see you bright and early in the morning.”

“Good-bye, Ruth,” Meg said as she wrapped her arms around Ruth's knees.

After absently patting the youngest child's back, she smiled at the children and then walked to stand beside Martin.

Martin could only stare as they walked into the kitchen together. “I've never seen all six of them look so happy to be doing anything together,” he said under his breath. “I've certainly never seen them all be quiet at the same time.”

One eyebrow rose. “Oh?”

“They are a squirrely lot. Grace, I mean, my wife and I learned to give them a little bit of wiggle room in order for them to behave,” he said. Only after mentioning her did he realize that he'd broken his cardinal rule. He never talked about Grace.
Never
.

He braced, preparing himself to feel the usual sharp pain that came whenever he let himself think of her. Instead, all he felt was a new sense of peace.

“What did you do to them?” he asked, only half joking. And, of course, secretly wondering what she'd done to him. For the first time in months he was feeling optimistic.

“Not a thing.” Looking down her nose at him—no small feat, considering she was at least six inches shorter than him. “I've only been doing what you asked me to.”

“But you made supper. And cookies. And the kitchen is mopped. And they were all sitting around you on the floor. Even Frank.”

“Frank goes wherever the kids go. Plus, I think we wore him out.”

“You wore out the puppy?”

“
Jah
. He'll be okay, though. Don't fret. I just don't think he's used to playing tag.” Ignoring his look of wonder, she continued on. “And as for the book? Well, that's no mystery. It's a good story. Everyone likes
A Christmas Carol
, I think,” she said as they stopped in the mud room next to her coat. “So, would you like me to come over the same time tomorrow?”

“
Jah
. That will be just fine,” he said as he watched her slip on a wool coat, red wool scarf, and mittens.

When she picked up her hamper, she gave him a little wave, then walked out the door.

“Wait! I'll go help you hitch up your buggy.”

“That's not necessary.”

“I'd like to help you if I could. It, ah, would be my pleasure.” He had a feeling his face mirrored her confusion. Where had those words come from? He didn't usually speak like that.

Actually, he never spoke like that—not since his courting days. Maybe not even then.

When her eyes met his, they softened. Making her look even younger, and almost vulnerable. “
Danke
,” she replied, just as he heard a crash from the other room.

Martin grimaced. “One second.” Rushing to the door of the hearth room, he said, “What happened?”

“Daed!” Karin called out. “Gregory touched me!”

“Did not. I stepped on her, 'cause she wouldn't move. Tell her to leave me alone.”

“Make me!”

Martin groaned. Turning into the hearth room again, he glared at his sweet children who were now looking—and behaving—like their usual selves. “I will talk to each of you in a moment. But for now I'm going to help—”

“It's all right, Martin,” Ruth protested from behind him. Quickly, he turned and saw that she'd already put on a black bonnet over her
kapp
. “I don't need your help.”

“But, this won't take a minute.”

“I've been hitching up my buggy on my own for years now. Why don't you go see to your
kinner
?”

“But—”

“I'll be just fine. I promise.”

He was about to argue when he heard yet another crash, followed by a thud and a screech. “I had better go. There's a good possibility one of them might have drawn blood by now.”

Ruth gazed at him, her pretty blue eyes warm. “Good night, Martin,” she said softly.

Only after he closed the door did he whisper, “And good night to you, Ruth.”

Thursday-night supper at the Keim house was never a quiet affair. It never had been, what with she and Aaron having six
kinner
, Lovina supposed. Back when her own children were small, she'd kept a firm hand on them. Maybe, too firm.

When Peter married Marie, they'd taken over the main house and Lovina and Aaron had moved to the
dawdi haus
. In what had felt like no time at all, Peter and Marie had had Roman and then twin girls, Elsie and Viola.

Those had been
wonderful-gut
years. She and Aaron had loved being around Peter's children, finally getting to enjoy the children without feeling the heavy responsibility of raising them to be proper and faithful adults.

But now that all three of those grandchildren were grown? Well, things had changed quite a bit. Yet again.

Marie and Peter were having a hard time getting used to having so many quiet evenings on their own, so about three months ago, Marie had started hosting Thursday-night suppers for anyone in the family who wanted to come over. She'd told everyone that she simply wanted to see them all at least once a week.

Lovina suspected that Marie had another reason, to do with Lovina's favorite granddaughter, Elsie. Elsie and Landon were newlyweds, and Landon had a very busy job refinishing floors and consequently was gone a lot. Soon after Elsie married Landon, Peter and Marie wanted to create a way to help ease Elsie's life, given that she was now almost completely blind.

Elsie was doing much better than any of them had ever imagined she would. She had a Seeing Eye dog now, a lovely, friendly, golden retriever named Betsy who was as smart as a whip.

Now, on Thursdays, at least, Elsie and her newlywed husband wouldn't have to worry about supper.

Just as important, the rest of the family wouldn't be besieging Elsie the rest of the week, trying to monitor how she was doing.

They were all used to looking out for her. At first, Lovina had imagined that giving Elsie more space was going to be an easy thing to do.

Instead, pulling away and letting her be more independent had been more difficult than any of them had imagined. Especially for herself. She was terribly fond of her sweet, shy granddaughter. Ironically, shy Elsie was the one who was most able to stand up to her.

Which meant that Lovina, to everyone's surprise, had been the first person to back down. Of course, Lovina had learned the hard way that no good came from trying to force her wishes on another person.

Tonight Elsie and Landon were over, as was Lovina's daughter Lorene and her husband, John Miller. Roman, his wife, Amanda, and their daughter, Regina, lived with them in the main house. While they sometimes chose to go out for supper, they were around the table, too. Marie had elected to serve a pork roast and mashed potatoes. Lorene had brought over roasted carrots and squash, and Amanda had made a peanut butter pie.

As they passed plates, conversation was lively, especially since little Regina was intent on telling her grandfather every single thing she'd done with her mother that day.

Elsie was also glowing because she'd received a letter from Viola. Landon had read it aloud to her when he'd gotten home from work. Therefore, the two of them were sharing all of Viola's news, as well as the fact that Viola and her husband, Edward, would be coming home for the holidays.

“It's going to be a wonderful, busy Christmas,” Lovina said with a soft smile at Marie. “We're going to have to plan accordingly.”

“I agree. With Viola coming home, our
haus
is going to be full to bursting, and we can do some of our favorite projects. Maybe we can even make some homemade bird feeders to give as gifts.”

Lovina privately thought that the last thing her missionary granddaughter was going to want to do was make bird feeders. She kept that to herself, however. Lovina smiled. “Of course.” She'd just taken a bite of the roast—really, Marie made a good roast—when her daughter Lorene set her silverware on her plate.

After glancing at her brother Peter, Lorene said, “Goodness, all this talk about Viola coming home almost made me forget to share my news.”

“And what is that?”

“Well, I just happened to be talking to some folks at the cheese shop, and learned that Ruth Stuzmann was laid off from her new job at Daybreak.”