The Amish Christmas Kitchen (19 page)

“Emma, I appreciate all you've done for Amos. Everything you do for him. Since Dad passed away, the kid hasn't been the same. It doesn't much help things that Mom is down with the virus at times. And when we found out last year about the heart defect. . . .”

He shook his head. “It's been a bad time. But since you started tutoring him . . .” He paused. “It's hard to explain. But he smiles. Laughs. And you've helped him discover his love of reading.”

Emma almost choked with shock. Getting a compliment from Jonathan was rare. And what he'd said forced her heart to a happy beat. What on earth, then, was wrong?

“I'm so glad to play a role in Amos's life. And let me tell you, he's given me much more than I've offered him.”

When the wind picked up speed, the buggy rocked a bit from side to side. As she eyed the dull gray sky looming in the distance, Emma yearned for the season to change. But she knew that winter was just beginning.

They were nearly home when she glanced at Jonathan and noticed his somber expression. He looked at her, and their gazes locked. “I suppose it's no secret that I think you focus way too much on English and not enough on math. Don't numbers deserve more attention? When he's running his own business, he'll need to know figures.”

She gave a firm shake of her head.

“When Amos is older and has a farm, he'll use math skills on a daily basis. Amos will compute profits and manage the budget.” Jonathan threw his head back and chuckled. “Sorry we don't see eye to eye, but I hardly think English is gonna help him with that.”

She gave a stronger shake of her head. “I disagree. In the long run, his English knowledge will actually be much more important than math.” Before Jonathan could cut in, Emma substantiated her statement. “Just think of how important the Scriptures are. He'll read them every night. And most communication requires literacy. Amos loves books. And that's how you build vocabulary.”

“That's not my main complaint, though.” He cleared his throat. His voice took on a firmer, more direct tone. “Please don't take this the wrong way, Emma. But the auction's been causing me to lose sleep.”

She pressed her lips together in deep deliberation.

“I've been giving this a lot of thought, and to be honest, I'm still not comfortable accepting donations for the surgery. From the get-go, you've played an important role in getting this thing going. Now I want you to stop it.”

His unfair order prompted her to bite her tongue. His demand prompted her to forget the brief compliment he'd paid her. She didn't try to hide how upset she was. Trying to think of an appropriate response, she lifted a defensive hand.

“Jonathan, are you crazy?” Without thinking, she raised her chin a notch. As she looked at him for an answer, she glimpsed his deep green eyes. The shade reminded Emma of a beautiful stone she'd seen on an English girl's finger.

Wavy jet-black hair stuck out from the bottom of his hat. His jaw was square, and a dark set of thick brows hovered beneath his forehead.

To her astonishment, the expression on his face was that of amusement. She was happy she hadn't further irritated him; that was the last thing she wanted to do.

He lifted a defensive hand to stop her. “I'm well aware of the benefits. It's just that . . .” He stared straight ahead and cupped his chin with his hand. When he turned toward her, the expression in his eyes was of sadness.

Her heart pumped to an unsettling beat.

“I'm not happy taking money from people I don't know—or even those I do.” He lifted a defensive hand. “I was raised to be humble and taught that pride isn't a good thing. But I'm flawed, Emma. Something inside of me likes to be able to support my family without accepting charity. It's all about self-respect.”

He offered a helpless shrug. “I'd rather earn the money myself.”

“Jonathan, swallow your pride. This should be about Amos.”

The emotion in her voice was so fierce, she nearly choked on her words. “As soon as this procedure's over, think of how his life will change. I know you'll see things differently.”

She threw her hands up in the air. In a swift motion, she stuck her hand out to count with her fingers as she ticked off reasons. “He'll be able to do things other kids his age do. Play outside. Not wear a sweater all summer long. Or take medicine four times a day.”

She continued her argument with emotion. “Do you know what your little brother wants more than anything?”

He eyed her.

“To play tag with his friends.”

A hard knot in her throat made it difficult to talk. Her pulse nearly jumped out of her wrist in protest as she went on.

“Do you have any idea of the work we've put in for this auction? I've practically pulled teeth to get it. And finally,
finally,
Jonathan, momentum is on our side. People are talking about it with excitement. In fact, as soon as the press got wind of it, attention poured in from everywhere in Illinois. Don't you understand that the entire state is rooting for little Amos to get well?”

She paused to shrug. “We
will
raise enough money for little Amos's operation. But now you're telling me to stop it?
Why?
” She lifted her chin a notch, squared her shoulders, and planted her palms against her waist.

A long, tense silence ensued. She took in Jonathan's features and pressed her lips together thoughtfully.

“I'm telling you, Emma, I won't take their money. It just doesn't feel right.”

She closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. “I admire your self-respect, Jonathan. And at least, you admit it's in the way. But sometimes you've got to look at the bigger picture.”

“I feel like I've failed. I mean, I'm the father figure in the boy's life. What's wrong with me that I can't take care of him like I should?”

He lowered his voice. “And how could he possibly look up to me when he sees I can't handle something like this without everyone else having to pitch in?”

Emma wasn't sure what to say. Because she realized what she was up against. How could she ever convince a man who was used to doing everything by himself, that this was a situation where he needed help?

C
HAPTER
2

E
mma recorded the final names of donors on the last line of her twenty-ninth page and sighed relief. She pulled a separate sheet from the notebook and began estimating the total dollars of donations so far.

While she silently added, the sweet smell of cookies baking filled the room. The timer in front of her showed ten more minutes until she would remove more desserts from the oven. Most of the batch in progress was for Amos and his family.

The little boy absolutely lived for Emma's treats! Emma knew that his mamma's bed rest was hard on him, but thank goodness, her time down wasn't forever. As Emma added, she scooted her chair closer to the table.

A soft voice prompted her to look up. “I can't believe the pace those pledges are comin' in. The Lord surely is helping us raise money.”

Emma pulled her sweater tighter. The heat coming from the gas furnace struggled to compete with the unusually cold December temperatures. The first week of the year's last month ended with a record-low windchill.

“It's like everyone who has ever heard of Amos is rooting for him to have this procedure.” Mamma stepped closer and wrapped an affectionate arm around Emma.

The warmth penetrated the thick navy sweater that Emma had knit last year. The comforting sensation traveled up her arms. When it settled in her shoulders, Emma pushed out a sigh of contentment. Her tension suddenly evaporated, and Emma sat back in the chair and crossed her legs at the ankles.

She turned to look up at her role model. “Mamma, I can't believe this is finally gonna happen.” Her eyes filled with salty moisture, and she blinked at the sting. “I pray every night that my little Amos will get his wish to play tag with his friends. I want it more than anything.”

Mamma sat down on the chair next to her and put her hand on Emma's. The low pitch of her voice cracked with emotion. “You really love that boy.”

A knot formed in Emma's throat; she tried to swallow it, but couldn't. Finally, she smiled a little and offered a nod. “I'm telling you, Mamma, he stole my heart the moment I met him.” She sighed. “Maybe it was that big freckled grin. Perhaps it was his unusually small build. Or his heartwarming smile.” Emma threw her hands in the air. “I don't know. But I'm sure he's the most special, unique child I've ever met.”

“He's a lot like you, Emma.”

The statement took Emma by surprise. Her jaw dropped. “In what way?”

Mamma sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her waist. “For one thing, his love of books is as strong as yours. When you were his age, your papa and I couldn't read you enough stories.” Mamma laughed. With her auburn hair pulled back tightly under her
kapp,
her face looked so young. Of course, she was thirty-six. “We read to you at night to make you sleepy, but instead, you wanted to keep hearing more stories.”

Emma grinned. “I don't know what I would do without the library.”

Emma considered her disturbing conversation with Jonathan and decided to share it. “Mamma, Jonathan doesn't want donations. He asked me to stop the auction.” She hesitated to fling a set of frustrated hands in the air. “Can you believe it?”

“What?” Mamma's deep, velvety blue eyes widened as she straightened and pressed her palms on her thighs.

Emma related the conversation she'd had with Amos's older brother. When she finished, she pushed out a satisfied sigh. Sharing it with Mamma was like releasing a heavy weight off of her shoulders. In reaction, she rolled them to relax.

“Emma, maybe raising funds for such an expensive procedure makes Jonathan feel like he's not fully a man.”

“But he is!” Emma threw a set of frustrated hands in the air. “Why can't he see that no one around here would be able to pay for a procedure of this nature on their own? Why can't he comprehend that stopping this would mean that little Amos will never play outside?”

“Honey, he doesn't really want to stop the fund-raiser.”

“No?”

Mamma's voice softened. “Think about where he's coming from. His daddy's only been gone a couple of years, and in that time, Jonathan stepped up to be the family leader.” She gave a sympathetic shake of her head.

Emma offered a quick nod of agreement. “I'm trying to understand his point of view. Although, in this situation, it would be best for him to grit his teeth and do what's right for his little brother. Either way, it's not a perfect world. But the auction's gonna happen. And nothing Jonathan does can change it.”

“Too bad his daddy's not here. When he passed away, the entire community offered support to his family. Helped with chores and such. Even at that time, I recall that Jonathan wasn't happy about not being able to handle it all by himself.”

Emma recalled when the senior Troyer had passed away. Still a teenager, Jonathan hadn't been given extra time to grow spiritually. Instead, he had been thrown into the difficult and unusual circumstances of taking care of his still-grieving mother and smaller, sickly brother. On top of dealing with Amos's heart defect, Jonathan still ran the family farm. And she knew that he owned over a hundred head of cattle.

Emma's heart ached for little Amos. To her dismay, it also hurt for Jonathan.

“Emma?” Mamma's voice pulled her out of her reverie. “Let's try to be a little kinder to Jonathan. He might seem gruff. But I really think you should cut him some slack. The poor man's got his own problems.”

“
Jah
. I know, Mamma. It's just that with him, though . . .”

Mamma lifted a curious brow.

Emma gave a frustrated roll of her eyes. “It seems that whatever I do, I can't please him.”

The corners of Mamma's lips lifted into a sudden grin. “Like I said, he's got a lot on his plate.”

Emma nodded agreement. “The problem is that he's making my plate heavy, too.”

* * *

The following afternoon, Jonathan rested his palms on the shovel handle and pressed the sharp edge against the floor where the wall met the concrete. As he caught his breath, he took in the scene in front of him. The barn was warmer than the outside, that was for sure. But even with the body heat from the animals, his toes still froze in his heavy socks and work shoes.

Black Angus cattle huddled around the feeding troughs that filled the far west area of the old, tall red barn. The very building that had been built years ago by his grandfather. The spot where Jonathan stood had been his dad's favorite place.

Jonathan took in a deep, emotion-filled breath. It was here that his beloved father had spent most of his time. Doing just what Jonathan was doing. Making sure there was plenty of straw for their livestock, cleaning the barn, and feeding the large herd of cattle.

Outside, freezing rain hit the ground, creating a light tapping sound that reminded Jonathan of a summer shower. Only this definitely wasn't summer. And the numb sensation in his toes told him it was time to go back in the house.

But memories of working side by side with his father compelled him to stay. His throat constricted until he could barely swallow. For a desperate moment, he yearned to have his dad back.

He nearly choked. Thank goodness no one was watching. He had to be strong for his family. His mother and little brother depended on him. He could never allow them to see how much he hurt.

For some strange reason, his thoughts turned to Amos's tutor. He took a step forward to continue tossing the hay into the cattle bed with his pitchfork. To his dismay, all he could see was the determination on Emma's face when she'd made her case for the auction.

He frowned and continued pitching straw until he stopped to get his breath. On the wall, a pair of quiet pigeons overlooked his work. A brown squirrel had grabbed one of the acorns that Jonathan had scattered on top of the cement slab behind the shed.

As his recent conversation with Emma replayed in his mind, an image of his late father appeared in his mind. Jonathan wished with all of his heart that his dad was still alive. Most definitely, the person Jonathan had respected more than anyone in the world would have figured something out. A way to get little Amos's procedure without taking donations. Now it was up to Jonathan to do the thinking.

Jonathan wasn't nearly as experienced as his role model. He swallowed a sad knot as he envisioned his dad smiling and running his fingers through his long beard. His wisdom and logic were surely missed.

He was sure that his father would come up with a way to get funds for Amos's surgery without so much notoriety. Without taking revenue from complete strangers that he couldn't pay back. Jonathan knew where he had inherited his proud nature. But he prayed constantly for God to help him be more humble and focus a little less on pride and self-respect.

But what could he do? Jonathan shrugged. Thanks to Emma and a group of women in the community, the fund-raiser had materialized before there was even an opportunity to stop it. Initially, he hadn't considered it seriously. Who would have guessed that such interest in little Amos would have exploded when the press got wind of the story? Even now, if Jonathan attempted to cease the auction, he probably wouldn't be able to. But what could he do?

He knew whom to ask. Swallowing a knot that was a combination of desperation and humiliation, he folded his hands together in front of him and knelt. Squeezing his eyes closed, he lowered his head in a quick, swift motion to pray. In a whisper, he pushed out everything he felt.

“Dear Lord, right now, I'm torn. I need guidance. I want Amos to get his heart fixed—it's not that I'm trying to stop it. I just need to know how to make that happen without accepting money from everyone around.”

He shoved out a sigh. “In my heart, I know Dad would want to take another avenue. But what is it?”

He considered what he'd said and gave a shake of his head. He pressed his palms together so hard, his hands shook.

“I pray that You will help me to be a better provider. A good family leader.”

When he opened his eyelids, his entire body was shaking. For long moments, he considered his prayer. An unsettling sensation filled his gut until it ached.

He folded his hands over his chest as he recalled yesterday's conversation with Emma. He hadn't neglected to notice her deep blue eyes and smiled a little. The shade was so beautiful; it reminded him of pictures of tropical waters he'd seen in travel magazines. He tapped the toe of his shoe to a beat that was a combination of uncertainty and curiosity.

Under Emma's kapp was an autumn-blond braid that had been tucked in neatly. Amos's tutor was average height and she'd worn a navy dress with sturdy black shoes. The corners of her lips had lifted up into a natural smile, and at times, when she spoke of something that enthused her, off-white flecks on her pupils danced with a childlike energy.

What intrigued him most was her fierce determination. Despite the fact that he didn't support the auction, he admired her for all she'd done to ensure it happened. He didn't expect her to understand his negative view of accepting handouts. However, he also didn't expect his position to change.

He put his pitchfork and shovel away, organized the feed bags on the south side of the barn, and closed the large, heavy doors. Inside his home, Amos's voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Johnnie, will Emmie come tomorrow?”

Jonathan smiled a little and wrapped an affectionate arm around the boy's narrow shoulders. His heartstrings pulled at him as he realized how unusually fragile his brother was compared to other kids his age.

“Not on Saturday, Amos. But she'll be back Monday.”

Jonathan was quick to note the disappointed expression on his brother's face.

“She gave you a good book to read, though,
jah?
”

He nodded. “But I like it better when she reads with me.”

Jonathan didn't know how to respond to the unexpected comment. While he hung his coat on a hook and enjoyed the welcome change in temperature, he raised a thoughtful brow.

He'd known for some time that his younger sibling was smitten by the blue-eyed tutor. And it didn't help that Mamma was bedridden again. However, Jonathan admitted that Emma's nurturing didn't hurt his little brother. Jonathan only wished that she would do what he wanted—and not the other way around.

Excitement edged Amos's voice. The corners of his lips turned up into a grin that spread across his freckled face. Jonathan pushed Amos's bangs off of his forehead with gentle fingers.

To Jonathan's surprise, Amos handed him one of Emma's cookies. “Johnnie, whatever's bothering you, Emmie's cookies will make it better. Here. See?”

With that, Amos bit into the treat and grinned. He rolled his eyes. “Emmie likes me to eat them. Besides, she needs me for her test run.”

“What?”

“You know. A test run. Every time she makes cookies, she does something different to the recipe.” He squared a narrow set of proud shoulders. “It's up to me to tell her how she's doing. She even has me score each batch from one to ten. And I have to make sure her best recipe is the one she uses for the auction.”

The auction. There it is again.
But the simple way Amos explained the rating system made a smile tug at the corners of Jonathan's mouth. Emma had a way of making Amos feel important, that was for sure.

And Jon could see how she'd involved his brother in the fund-raiser. She made the boy believe he was contributing. Obviously, he considered his cookie-testing role of utmost importance. And Jonathan was certain Amos didn't mind.