The Amish Christmas Kitchen (25 page)

And now, he had designed this beautiful recipe box especially for her. Her heart warmed as she thought of the time he must have put into it and how he'd personalized it with the letter
E
.

Mamma's voice pulled her from her reverie. Emma startled.

“Didn't mean to scare you.”

“It's okay, Mamma.”

The expression in her role model's eyes was a combination of amusement and joy. “He seems fond of you. He'll make a good husband, that Troyer boy.”

“Mamma!”

“Don't deny that you like him, Emma. And when he asked your father permission to court you . . .”

“What, Mamma?”

Mamma offered a cute roll of her eyes. “It must have been the sweetest request I've ever heard. He explained how much he respected you and how he'd take good care of you.”

Emma lifted a brow. “You and Dad never said a word to me.”

Mamma grinned. “That would have spoiled the surprise.”

“How long have you known?”

Mamma pressed her lips together before pointing a finger in the air. “The day after the auction. Your dad was outside feeding the livestock, and Jonathan pitched right in to help. They started talkin' about the fund-raiser, and before he left, he came up to the house and approached your father and me about courtin' you.”

Emma hadn't seen him there. Of course, she'd most likely been at the Troyers teaching little Amos.

Emma drew her hands over her heart and turned to the soft-spoken woman next to her. “Little Amos has his surgery next week, Mamma.” Emma pulled in a satisfied breath. “I can't believe I'm finally getting my wish.”

Mamma paused. “Your wish?”

Emma giggled. “
Jah
. I can't wait to see my little boy healthy and running around outside with the other kids. In fact, I want it more than anything.”

“You really love him.”

Emma nodded. “I'll do everything I can to help him, his mother, and Jonathan prepare for the surgery. I've even offered to do Jon's chores while they are in Minnesota.”

Mamma put an affectionate hand on Emma's. A long silence followed while their gazes locked in a mutual respect. “I'm so proud of you, Emma. When I watch you taking care of that little boy, my heart feels good. And someday, when you have your own children, you'll be so warm and loving to them.” Mamma lifted her palms and dropped them. “What more could I expect from you?” She paused. “I'm a happy mamma. I've watched you work so hard for all of these donations, and I'm proud you're my girl.”

Emma's breath caught in her throat while she considered the meaningful words she'd just heard. Finally, a response came to her. “Mamma, I'm a little embarrassed. I don't need praise for helping with the auction. A lot of people donated their time and money. I just did my part.”

Mamma smiled a little. Suddenly, Emma remembered her project and she finished scooping the cookie dough onto the baking sheet.

As she gazed out the kitchen window, she glimpsed Jon feeding his cattle. It was still difficult to digest all that had happened in such a short amount of time. The fund-raiser. Getting enough donations to pay for little Amos's surgery. Jon asking permission to court her.

Emma put the cookie sheet into the oven, closed the door, and removed the protective mitt from her hand. She turned to Mamma and shrugged. “I have everything I could ever want, Mamma. I'm so lucky. I wonder what I've done to deserve such blessings from God.”

Mamma began to step away. She turned to wink at Emma. “God rewards the faithful, Emma. And He'll continue to bless you.”

L
ISA
J
ONES
B
AKER'S
C
HRISTMAS
C
OOKIES

When I took my first bite of these cookies, over four decades ago, I knew they were, without a doubt, the best I had ever eaten. The recipe came from my aunt. At the time, I was in 4H and loved to cook. I still do! Over the years, when I visited my sister's family, I would take the ingredients with me and make the cookies at their house. The batch would quickly disappear. Now the cookies are a Christmas tradition. My niece bakes the treats for her boys, and I'm sure this recipe will stay in our family forever.

 

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a medium bowl, sift together and put aside flour, baking powder, and salt.

In a separate bowl, let the butter soften naturally. Mix in sugar, eggs, and vanilla extract. Once blended, add flour mixture.

After the cookie dough is made, bunch it into a ball, wrap it tightly in waxed paper, and refrigerate for two to three hours. Then, take half the batch, roll it out, and sprinkle lightly with flour so the dough won't stick. Cut into ornament shapes.

Bake on a cookie sheet at 375 F for eight minutes or so. Enjoy!

For icing, I let a stick of butter get to room temperature. When it's soft, stir in enough powdered sugar and milk to make the icing smooth and creamy.

Now available from Lisa Jones Baker

Hope Chest of Dreams, Book 1

 

 

The last thing Rebecca Sommer dreamed her plan to wed would bring was a heart-wrenching choice. She thought she and her betrothed, William, would spend the rest of their lives in the Illinois heartland, raising a family in their close-knit Amish hometown. But when he must travel far out of state to save his ailing father's business, Rebecca braves her relatives' disapproval—and her own fears—to go work by his side. And though she finds herself ever more in love with the dedicated, resourceful man he proves to be, William's growing interest in English ways may be the one challenge even her steadfast faith can't meet . . .

 

Turn the page for an excerpt from
Rebecca's Bouquet
....

C
HAPTER
1

H
is announcement took her by surprise. Rebecca Sommer met William's serious gaze and swallowed. The shadow from his hat made his expression impossible to read.

“You're really leaving?”

He fingered the black felt on the brim. “I know what a shock this is. Believe me, I never expected to hear that Dad had a heart attack.”

“Do they expect a full recovery?”

William nodded. “But the docs say it will be a while before he works again. Right now, they can't even guess at a time line. In the meantime, Beth's struggling to take care of him.”

While Rebecca considered the news, the warm June breeze rustled the large, ear-shaped leaves on the catalpa tree. The sun peeked from behind a large marshmallow cloud, as if deciding whether or not to appear. In the distance, a sleek black gelding clomped its hooves against the earth.

Pools of dust stirred, swirling and quickly disappearing. Lambs frolicked across the parcel of pasture separating the Sommer home from Old Sam Beachy's bright red barn. From where they stood, Rebecca could barely glimpse the orange Yield sign on the back of the empty buggy parked next to the house.

“I'm the only person Dad trusts with his business.” William paused and lowered his voice. “Beth wants me to come to Indiana and run his cabinet shop, Rebecca.”

The news caused a wave of anxiety to roll through Rebecca's chest. She wrung her hands together in a nervous gesture. A long silence ensued as she thought of William leaving, and her shoulders grew tense. Not even the light, sweet fragrance floating from her mother's rose garden could take away Rebecca's anxiety.

When she finally started to respond, William held up a defensive hand. “It's just until he's back on his feet. This may not be such a bad thing. The experience might actually benefit us.”

Rebecca raised a curious brow. The breeze blew a chestnut-brown hair out of place, and she quickly tucked it back under her kapp. Her gaze drifted from his face to his rolled-up sleeves.

Tiny freckles decorated his nose, giving him a youthful appearance. But there was nothing boyish about his square jaw or broad shoulders that tried to push their way out of his shirt. Her heart skipped a beat. She lifted her chin, and their eyes locked in understanding.

William smiled a little. “One of these days we'll run our own company.” He winked. “Don't worry.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. For one blissful, hopeful moment, she trusted everything would be okay. It wasn't those simple two words that reassured her, but the tender, persuasive way William said them. The low, steady tone in which he spoke could convince Rebecca of almost anything.

The warm pink glow on his cheeks made Rebecca's pulse pick up speed. As he looked at her for a reaction, her lips lifted into a wide smile. At the same time, it was impossible to stop the nervous rising and falling of her chest.

She'd never dreamed of being without William. Even temporarily. At the young age of eighteen, she hadn't confronted such a difficult issue.

But her church teachers and parents had raised her to deal with obstacles. Fortunately, they had prepared her to be strong and to pray for guidance. As she stared at her beloved flower garden, her thoughts became more chaotic.

The clothes on the line rose and fell with the warm summer breeze. Their fresh, soapy scent floated through the air. She surely had greater control over her destiny than the wet garments, whose fate was dependent on the wind. She and William could get through this. They loved each other. God would take care of them, wouldn't He?

She glanced up at William. The way the sun hit him at an angle made him look even taller than his six feet and two inches. He'd always been bigger and stronger than other kids his age.

The gray flecks in his deep blue eyes danced to a mysterious tune as he darted her a grin. When she looked into those dark pools, she could drown in happiness. But today, even the warmth emanating from his smile couldn't stop the concern that edged her voice. “Don't worry? But I do, William. What about . . .”

“Us?”

She nodded.

He leveled his gaze so that she looked directly at him. “Nothing has changed. We'll still get married in November after the harvest.”

Rebecca hesitated. She couldn't believe William would really leave Arthur, Illinois. But his reason was legitimate. His father needed him. She wasn't selfish, and asking him to stay would be.

Circumstances were beyond her control. What could she do? The question nagged at her until frustration set in. Within a matter of minutes, her world had changed, and she fought to adjust. She nervously tapped the toe of her black shoe against the ground.

As she crossed her arms over her chest, she wished they could protect her from the dilemma she faced. Her brows narrowed into a frown, and a long silence ensued. She looked at him, hoping for an answer. Seeking even a hint of a solution.

To her surprise, William teased, “Rebecca, stop studying me like I'm a map of the world.”

His statement broke the tension, and she burst into laughter because a map of the world was such a far stretch from what she'd been thinking.

“Of course you've got to help your folks, William. I know how much Daniel's business means to him. You certainly can't let him lose it. I can imagine the number of cabinets on order.”

Surprised and relieved that her voice sounded steady, Rebecca's shoulders trembled as the thought of William leaving sank in. They'd grown up together and hadn't spent a day without seeing one another.

She stopped a moment and considered Daniel and Beth Conrad. Nearly a decade ago, William's mamma had died, and Daniel had married Beth.

He was a skilled cabinet maker. It was no surprise that people from all over the United States ordered his custom-made pieces. Rebecca had seen samples of his elegant, beautiful woodworking.

A thought popped into Rebecca's mind, and she frowned. “William, you seem to be forgetting something very important. Daniel and Beth.. . They're English.”

He nodded. “Don't think I haven't given that consideration.”

“I don't want to sound pessimistic, but how will you stay Amish in their world?”

He shrugged. “They're the same as us, really.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course they are. But the difference between our lifestyle and theirs is night and day. How can you expect to move in with them and be compatible?”

William hooked his fingers over his trouser pockets, looked down at the ground, and furrowed a brow. Rebecca smiled. She knew him so well. Whenever something bothered him, he did this. Rebecca loved the intense look on his face when he worried. The small indentation in his chin intensified.

What fascinated her most, though, were the mysterious gray flecks that danced in his eyes. When he lifted his chin, those flecks took on a metallic appearance. Mesmerized, Rebecca couldn't stop looking at them.

Moments later, as if having made an important decision, he stood still, moved his hands to his hips, and met her gaze with a nod.

In a more confident tone, he spoke. “It will be okay, Rebecca. Don't forget that Dad was Amish before he married Beth. He was raised with the same principles as we. Just because he's English now doesn't mean he's forgotten everything he learned. No need to worry. He won't want me to change.”

“No?”

William gave a firm shake of his head. “Of course not. In fact, I'm sure he'll insist that I stick to how I was brought up. Remember, he left me with Aenti Sarah and Uncle John when he remarried. Dad told me that raising me Amish was what my mother would have expected. The Ordnung was important to her. And keeping the faith must have also been at the top of Dad's list to have left me here. Nothing will change, Rebecca.”

Rebecca realized that she was making too much out of William's going away. After all, it was only Indiana. Not the North Pole! Suddenly embarrassed at her lack of strength, she looked down at the hem of her dress before gazing straight into his eyes. He moved so close, his warm breath caressed her bottom lip, and it quivered. Time seemed to stand still while she savored the silent mutual understanding between them. That unique, unexplainable connection that she and William had.

“I've always read that things happen for a reason,” William mentioned.

“Me too.” Rebecca also knew the importance of the Ordnung. And she knew William's mamma, Miriam, would have wanted him to stay in the faith that had meant everything to her.

As if sensing her distress, he interlaced his fingers together in front of him. His hands were large. She'd watched those very hands lift heavy bales of hay.

His warmth branded her skin with a combination of hope and reassurance. “Who knows? Maybe this is God's way of testing me.”

Rebecca gave an uncertain roll of her eyes. “Talk to your aunt and uncle. They'll know what's best. After all, they've raised you since your father remarried.”

The frustration in William's voice raised a notch. “I already did. It's hard to convince them that what I'm doing is right.” He lowered his voice. “You know how they feel. When Dad left the faith, he deserted me. But even so, I can't turn my back on him.”

“Of course not.”

“Aenti Sarah's concerned that people will treat me differently when I come back. She wants to talk to the bishop and get his permission. If that makes her feel better, then I'm all for it.”

“If he'll give his blessing.”

William nodded in agreement.

“But we're old enough to think for ourselves, William. When we get married and raise our family, we can't let everyone make up our minds for us.”

He raised a brow. “You're so independent, Miss Rebecca.”

She smiled a little.

A mischievous twinkle lightened his eyes.

“Your decision shouldn't be based on what people think,” Rebecca said. “If we made choices to please others, we'd never win. Deep down inside, we have to be happy with ourselves. So you've got to do what's in your heart. And no one can decide that but you.”

The expression that crossed his face suddenly became unreadable. She tilted her head and studied him with immense curiosity. “What are you thinking?”

His gray flecks repeated that metallic appearance again. “Rebecca, you're something else.”

A surge of warmth rushed through her.

“I can't believe your insight.” He blinked in amazement. “You're an angel.” His voice was low and soft. She thought he was going to kiss her. But he didn't. William followed the church rules. But Rebecca wouldn't have minded breaking that one.

In a breathless voice, she responded, “Thank you for that.”

As if suddenly remembering the crux of their conversation, William returned to the original topic. “I've assured Aenti Sarah and Uncle John that I won't leave the Amish community. That I'll come back, and we'll get married. They finally justified letting me leave by looking at this as an opportunity to explore Rumspringa.”

Rebecca grinned. “I guess that's one way to look at it.” Rumspringa was the transition time between adolescence and adulthood when an Amish youth could try things before deciding whether to join the faith for him—or herself. She even had a friend who had gone as far as to get a driver's license.

He paused. “Rebecca, I know we didn't plan on this.” His voice grew more confident as he continued. “You've got to understand that I love you more than anything in the world. Please tell me you'll wait for me. I give you my word that this move is only temporary. As soon as Dad's on his feet again, I'll come home. Promise.”

As William committed, Rebecca took in his dark brown hair. The sun's brightness lightened it to the color of sand. For a moment, his features were both rugged and endearing. Rebecca's heart melted.

Her voice softened. “How long do you think you'll stay?”

William pressed his lips together thoughtfully. “Good question. Hopefully, he'll be back to work in no time. His customers depend on him, and according to Beth, he has a long list of orders for cabinets to produce and deliver. He's a strong man, Rebecca. He'll be okay.”

“I believe that. I'll never forget when he came into town last year to see you.” She giggled. “Remember his fancy car?”

William chuckled. “He sure enjoys the luxuries of the English. I wish our community wouldn't be so harsh on him. He's really Amish at heart.”

William hesitated. “I used to resent that he left me.”

Long moments passed in silence. He stepped closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Rebecca, you've become unusually quiet. And you didn't answer my question.”

She raised an inquisitive brow.

“Will you wait for me?”

Her thoughts were chaotic. For something to do, she looked down and flattened her hands against her long brown dress. She realized how brave William was and recalled the scandal Daniel Conrad had made when he married outside of the faith and had moved to the country outside of Evansville, Indiana. She raised her chin to look at William's face. Mamma always told her that a person's eyes gave away his feelings.

The tongue could lie. But not the eyes. William's intriguing flecks had become a shade lighter, dancing with hope and sincerity. His cheeks were flushed.

“William, you've got to do this.” She let out a small, thoughtful sigh. “I remember a particular church sermon from a long time ago. The message was that our success in life isn't determined by making easy choices. It's measured by how we deal with difficult issues. And leaving Arthur is definitely a tough decision.”