Snowfall (8 page)

He turned to the children, ready to give them last-minute hugs. Ready to warn, cajole, and bribe them to be good. To promise them that he would be able to take a couple of weeks off after Christmas.

But not a one of them was paying the slightest attention to him.

Instead, they were all staring at the Bingo cards and looking at Ruth like she was the most amazing thing they'd ever seen.

Only when he got to the barn did it occur to him that his children were probably right on the money.

It seemed Ruth Stutzman, all five-feet-four inches of her was a force to be reckoned with.

His family's very own miracle worker.

I'm a good artist, and Karin is, too.

Brigit, Age 5

The door slammed behind Martin with a resounding
clank
, making Ruth feel as if Martin hadn't just been saying good-bye for the day, but good-bye to everything that she'd been imagining had started between them. His departure created a gap in the room, as if the central focal point had been removed.

Not that she should even care.

And in the space that remained, all that was left was the startling rush of silence.

It made Ruth shiver. Gazing at the children, she summoned a smile, even knowing while she did, that it was patently fake. “Well, now,” she murmured. “I guess it's just the seven of us again. Are you ready for breakfast?”

Thomas blurted, “How come Daed left? Did that make you sad?”

“Not at all,” she lied. “I was hired to take care of all of you, not keep tabs on your father.”

Katrina's eyebrows snapped together. “But he didn't eat breakfast.”

“He was in a hurry, that's all. I bet lots of folks are wanting to buy trees.”

Staring at her father's neglected plate, Katrina shook her head. “I don't think Daed was worried about a bunch of trees.”

Ruth didn't think so, either, but she sure wasn't going to start guessing why he suddenly hadn't been able to run out of the kitchen fast enough. “Don't make mountains out of molehills. Your father is fine. And you are, too.”

Katrina turned to Thomas. “You know what? It's almost like he didn't want to leave today.”

He scrunched his nose. “I don't know, Kat. He ran out of here pretty quick-like.”

“I'm sure he simply remembered he had something important to do,” Ruth said, attempting to smooth things over. “Or perhaps there is a concern at work none of you know about. That happens.”

Thomas kept staring at the door. “Maybe. But I don't know.”

“Daddy really likes work,” Karin blurted.

“
Jah
,” Katrina replied after glancing at the door again. “'Cause work is really important, you know.”

That was a leading statement if Ruth had ever heard one. It practically was begging for her to smooth it over. Unfortunately, she was no expert when it came to the correct way to handle things of this nature. She hadn't grown up with a family, and she'd certainly never had a close relationship with a man. Well, not close enough to have the occasion to counsel him or to coax him to behave in a certain way.

Though right at that moment, she wished she had.

“Now that your
daed
left, it's time for you
kinner
to eat. Everyone sit down and I'll make you some breakfast.”

Ruth hustled over to the stove and began pouring pancake batter onto the griddle and transferring slices of ham onto plates. Without being asked, the children helped. Empty Bingo cards were set aside, forks and spoons were laid out. Orange and apple juice and a pitcher of milk was pulled out of the refrigerator.

Syrup was warmed in a small pan.

Then, not twenty minutes after their father had rushed out of the kitchen like his feet were on fire, the children had their heads bowed in silent prayer.

Ruth's was, too. And though she took care to convey her thanks to the Lord for healthy food and healthy children, she also asked Him for a good dose of strength and wisdom. It was becoming a little obvious that she was out of her element with both the
kinner
and their father.

Soon, everyone dug in, the children eating the pancakes like they were something special. And little by little, the tension that had been in the room like it was a tangible thing, slowly eased. And when that happened, Ruth felt her shoulders relax. She hadn't even known they were tense.

“I like your pancakes, Ruth,” Brigit said.

“I am glad.”

“Me, too,” Karin said.

“I'm glad about that, too. That makes me happy.”

When they were almost done, Brigit spoke again. But this time it seemed like she was talking more to her siblings than to Ruth. “Maybe we did something we weren't supposed to. Maybe that's why Daddy left in such a hurry.”

Karin stared at her twin. “I haven't been naughty lately. Have you?”

Brigit shook her head. “Not since I washed Frank in Daed's bathtub and then he dried off by rolling around on top of Daed's bed.”

“I've been almost good,” Gregory declared. “Most of the time.”

Ruth looked from one to the other and tried very hard to keep her smile hidden. “It sounds like you've given your father quite a few headaches over the years. Is that the case?”

Katrina bit her lip, though the new brightness in her eyes sparkled a bit. “Maybe.”

“Why is that?”

“We don't try to be bad, Ruth,” Thomas replied. “It's just that sometimes we get tired of trying to be good.”

Maybe Ruth was going crazy, but for some reason that made sense to her. At the moment, it kind of sounded like her life. For most of her days, she'd tried her best to be positive and make the best of things. Tried to be happy about living alone. Tried to live each day giving thanks instead of wishing for more.

No matter how difficult her days might have been, she'd gotten through them by reminding herself that they could be worse.

But now she was starting to realize that it was okay to want more. After all, the Lord started each day with a new dawn. Surely that meant He gave each of them opportunities to make each day better than the last. And maybe even to try to obtain things they wanted.

She'd always wanted to feel needed and like she belonged. These children, these rambunctious, restless, silly, imperfect
kinner
were helping her to remember that it was okay to want more.

All of that was why she looked at Thomas and started grinning. And then, well, she threw back her head and laughed.

“If it's going to be this cold, we might as well have snow,” Martin's partner, Floyd Miller, commented as they pruned another group of trees and loaded the boughs into the back of a cart.

Martin, Floyd, and a couple of their part-time workers would then spend the next couple of hours fashioning the limbs into wreaths and garlands.

That was an easy job, and a warm one, too, considering Martin took care to make sure they had gas-powered heaters in the metal building.

But that seemed like a long time away, considering he and Floyd were at the top of the hill and feeling each gust of wind with every inch of their bodies.

“You have a point, but the snow would make things harder.”

“If we had snow, we'd have sleds.”

“And shoveling.”

“Sales would be up. Snow puts people in the Christmas spirit.”

Martin chuckled. “You have a point there. But the sales have stayed steady this year. We need to be happy with what we have.”

As Floyd carefully trimmed another pair of branches, then tossed them into the wagon, he eyed Martin. “What's going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you're different. You're usually the one who is complaining or fretting.”

“Maybe I didn't want to be that person today.”

“Because?”

“Because of nothing.”

“Hmm.” Floyd cut another branch, inspected it, then added it to the pile. “How's your new babysitter working out?”

Against his will, Martin started. “Don't know. It's only her second day.”

“But what do the
kinner
say? And don't say nothing because everyone knows that your children have something to say about most everything.”

Martin weighed his response, then wondered why he even tried. “So far, they seem to like her.”

“Who is it? Anyone I know?”

“It's Ruth Stutzman. Do you know her?”

Floyd's eyes widened. “You've got Ruth over there?”

“I guess you do know Ruth. So, um, what do you know about her?”

“Nothing.”

“No, your reaction wasn't nothing. What do you know about her?”

“I know that she grew up outside of Charm.”

“Oh. I knew that, too.” He was curiously disappointed. Not that he wanted Floyd to pass on any dark secrets or anything, but he would have appreciated learning something new about her.

Floyd tossed another handful of branches into the wagon. “Almost full.”

“Yep. We'll be ready to take this into the barn after we trim another five to ten trees.”

“Did you know Ruth is an orphan?”

He stilled. “Not at all. Did she live in an orphanage or something?” Actually, he wasn't even sure if he'd ever heard of an Amish orphanage.

“She was passed from relative to relative. She usually stayed for no more than a year at a time.”

“How do you know about this?”

“I'm courting Kristy who is
gut
friends with Ruth. Strange, though. I could have sworn Kristy said that Ruth had taken a job over at Daybreak with her.”

“She had.”

“So why is she watching your
kinner
now?”

“From what I understand, Daybreak had to lay a couple of people off. Since she was the last hired, she was the first to go.”

“Tough.”

“Uh-huh. Plus, after Lovina didn't exactly work out, I think she felt like she needed to find me someone. So I think she convinced Ruth to take the job.”

Floyd backed up a step and pretended to shiver. “Say no more. I've lived my life hoping Lovina won't ever know who I am.”

“She's not that bad.”

“Yes, she is.” He grinned. “Even Roman says so.”

“Really? Roman is her grandson.”

“He would know.” Floyd walked to the next tree, eyed it carefully, then set to pruning. “Is Ruth planning to watch your
kinner
for a while?”

“Just until New Year's Day. Then the
kinner
will go back to school and maybe by then Daybreak'll be hiring again, and they can take her back.” But even as he said that, he felt a bit sad about it. Ruth was a chatty girl. Full of energy. From his kids' response that morning, he knew she was doing a great job with them She'd won them over in just one day, which was quite a feat.

It seemed a waste for her to go back to the retirement home. A girl like her, so vibrant and full of life, should be surrounded by a doting husband and a bunch of children of her own.

“What do you think about that?”

He shrugged. “There's nothing to think about. It is what it is. For right now, I've been blessed with help.”

“If she came back for a second day, it means your children haven't run her off yet.”

“There is that.” Martin grinned. “It sure is a shame that Kristy wasn't available to help me out.”

“Kristy is a delicate soul. She's adorable and loving.”

Martin knew what was coming. “And?”

“And the thought of just looking out for your Katrina alone intimidates her. There's no way she'd want to tackle six of them.”

“Floyd, you know my children.”

“I do know them.”

“And I am grateful for my many blessings. I love them. Very much.”

“I know that, too.”

“That said, I don't blame Kristy one bit.”

Floyd grinned as he tossed two more branches into the wagon. “It takes a strong man to be honest about his children, Martin.”

“Then I must be the strongest man in town,” he replied dryly.

Sobering, Floyd reached out and slapped Martin lightly on the back. “Grace died too young.”

“That she did. She died too young,” he repeated as they set their tools in the wagon, then helped guide the horse down the hill. She died too young and took his heart with her.

He'd always been sure of it.

Which was why he couldn't understand why he kept thinking about Ruth's smile. Or her blue eyes.

Or the way he'd been as happy as his children to see her.

I think I've grown a whole inch this month. Maybe two. I'm almost sure of it.

Thomas, Age 8

It was early in the morning. So early that Elsie's husband, Landon, hadn't even had his second cup of coffee yet. Therefore, Elsie knew it was the perfect time to talk to him about something she'd been considering for a couple of weeks.

Now, if she could only get up the nerve. Feeling nervous and more than a little bit awkward, she reached down and gave Betsy a pet. Betsy raised her head. When she realized that Elsie wasn't about to give her a command, but was simply giving her some attention, she put her head back down on her paws.

Elsie leaned back in her chair and sighed.

“Elsie, what's going on?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It is.” Pushing his coffee cup to one side, he leaned toward her. “Is something wrong?”

“No. I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Well, then . . .” He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

And that made Elsie reflect again about just how blessed she was to have a husband like him. Now that she could hardly see at all, he often squeezed her hand or patted her shoulder, touching her in a hundred ways to show his support.

“Landon, I've been thinking about my mother's Thursday suppers.”