Christmas in Sugarcreek

Christmas in Sugarcreek

A Christmas Seasons in Sugarcreek Novel

Shelley Shepard Gray

Dedication

To Pastor Jonathan Eilert, for preaching a sermon that inspired a book.

To my Huddle girlfriends, Rosann, Kara, Judi, Janice, and Pat. Thank y’all for being my light.

Epigraphs

When Jesus spoke again to the people, He said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

John 8:12

The woods would be silent if only the best birds sang.

~Amish proverb

Contents

Chapter One

Ten Days Until Christmas

“J
udith, are you sure you don’t mind locking up tonight?” asked Joshua, a guilty tone heavy in his voice. “I feel bad, letting you close the store two nights in a row.”

“You shouldn’t. I don’t mind staying late at all. That’s what sisters are for,
jah
?”

When Josh continued to look doubtful, Judith Graber lifted her chin, forced a smile she didn’t feel inside. “Come, now. Gretta needs you. As does Will. Go on, or you’re going to be late. You two have plans, don’tcha?”

“Nothing much. We’re just getting together for supper with some other couples. You know, before things get too busy.”

She knew Joshua was talking about Christmas get-togethers and other holiday parties. Every
frau
she knew was busy baking and cooking for the planned activities.

Being single, she was not. “Go now, Joshua. I’ll be fine.”

“I promise, I’ll close the rest of the week,” he said as he shrugged on his coat.

Judith crossed her arms over her chest. “You better,” she teased with a mock frown.

However, she doubted her
bruder
had even noticed her expression. He was already beyond the wreath-adorned door that was closing behind him with a jangling of bells.

Judith watched through the store’s large picture windows as her brother weaved in between two parked cars and then, reaching the sidewalk, almost knocked into a woman carrying a wrapped package. He was practically racing home.

To his new home.

Just two months ago, he and Gretta had told the whole family that they were moving into a small house two blocks from the store. Living above the family shop no longer made sense, especially with Gretta in a family way again.

No member of the Graber family disagreed with their decision.

But, of course, none of them had been prepared for the adjustments that would have to be made now that Joshua would no longer be on the premises at all times. Now each member of the family had to take turns opening and closing the shop. Well, she, Joshua, and her father. Mamm was still too busy at home with the little ones to come in much, and Caleb had recently started at the brick factory. Anson was still a little too young to be of any real help.

So, it fell on Judith to do the majority of the work.
As always.

Because she was the steady one.

The reliable one.

More like the one who had no life, Judith thought wryly. All while Joshua had been falling in love, and her brother Caleb had been struggling with his future, and even as Anson wrestled with his own growing pains, she had held steady and had quietly done what was expected of her.

Everyone was appreciative, to be sure. But that didn’t ease the restless ache that seemed to be growing inside.

Wistfully, Judith looked out the window at the gently falling snow, the wheel ruts in the lane, the road beyond that led . . . somewhere else.

She wished that she, like Joshua, had somewhere to run to. Wished she had someone who counted the passing minutes of her absence. . .

If only. . .

Realizing she’d been standing there in a daze, Judith slapped her hands on the counter. “If you’re going to be so dreamy, you might as well be truthful about it,” she said out loud. “You don’t wish just for
someone
. You wish you had a
man, a sweetheart,
counting the minutes until he saw you again.”

Her hollow laugh echoed through the empty store, a store that surely needed tending. And she knew from experience that wishes and dreams didn’t get things done.

Since there were only five more minutes until closing time, she left her spot behind the counter and began her usual walk through the store. As she did so, she organized stock and picked up stray pieces of trash people had left behind. A child’s toy, a gum wrapper. A grocery list.

The bells on the door jingled merrily, causing her to straighten.

“Hello?” a deep voice called out.

Well, of course someone decided to come in, now that it was mere minutes before closing time. Irritation flowed through her as she stood with her hands full of trash and a metal toy car, as the person darted toward the front. “May I help you?” she called out.

Then skidded to a stop. Because right there in front of her was Benjamin Knox.

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he glanced her way. And then a long, slow smile spread. A knowing and too-personal smile. “Judith Graber . . . Hi.”

“Ben.” She lifted her chin, pretending that she wasn’t shocked to her core. Two years ago, Ben Knox had left Sugarcreek under a haze of disapproval. Gossips reported that he’d gone to Missouri to help some cousins on their dairy farm, but had in truth done little besides flirt with the girls.

She needed to remember that. Keeping her voice cool and even, she asked, “May I help you?”

Under his black hat’s thick felt brim, his hazel eyes seemed to take in every inch of her. She felt his gaze’s sweep as surely as if he’d run a hand right down her periwinkle dress, down her black apron, along her black stockings.

“Nee,”
he said.

She couldn’t remember what she’d asked him. “
Nee?”

“No, I don’t need your help,” he said with an almost-smirk. “I’m not here for anything special. Just thought I’d look around for a few minutes. You know. See if there was anything that catches my eye.”

“And do you think there might be?”

“Doubt it.”

Judith went cold. Was he purposely being rude, or was she being too sensitive?

Probably a bit of both.

Keenly aware of the tension she felt around Ben—that bit of unease she’d always felt around him—she cleared her throat. “Just to let you know, we’re closing in exactly one minute.”

An eyebrow rose. “In one minute, huh? Then what happens? All customers get locked in?”

“Of course not!” Oh, but of course he was teasing her. “What I meant to say is that you should probably leave.”

“Right now? Before I get a chance to look around some more?” He turned around and stared at the clock above the door. The ridiculous clock with birds on the face instead of numbers. The clock that chirped on the hour, much to the amusement of her mother . . . and to her extreme annoyance.

Before she could answer, the clock struck six and chirped. When he grinned, she felt her cheeks heat. Wished she was absolutely anywhere else but here, with him. Alone together in the store.

Ben Knox bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

It wasn’t because of the clock—his Aunt Beth had a large collection of hand-painted birdhouses on a shelf in her kitchen. He was used to such silly items.

No, what had him tempted to laugh was the girl standing across from him. Standing as stiff and looking as ruffled as the clock’s fierce mother sparrow painted where the number three would be.

But that was where the similarities ended. Judith Graber was far from being just a difficult, fussy girl, and she was not drab at all. No, her bright blue eyes and lovely light brown hair with its streaks of auburn caught his eye like little else.

He found her exasperation with him amusing. And very little had amused him in a long time.

“I guess the cardinal’s trill is my signal to leave?”

Her gaze seemed to give off sparks.
“Jah.”

He turned away, but a nagging question turned him back around.

“Why are you working here so late, and all alone? I would’ve thought your husband would want you home by now.”

“I work here because it’s my family’s store, of course.” After a pause, she looked down at her hands clasping the countertop. “Besides, I’m not married.”

She wasn’t? A flash of hope exploded inside of him. He tamped it down with effort. “Are you courting?” It was rude of him to ask, but he couldn’t help himself.

Raising her chin, Judith’s lips pursed, just as if she was searching the air for the right words. At last, she sighed. “
Nee . . .
though it surely isn’t any of your business.”

Now it was his turn to be surprised. All his life, he’d thought of Judith Graber as being the ideal girl. She was lovely and kind and a hard worker—nothing like himself.

And she was loyal. Vividly, he recalled her standing up for her brothers anytime someone threatened them or put one of them down.

In short, she was the type of girl men like him never spent time with. She was too fine for the likes of Benjamin Knox. She always had been, and everyone knew it.

For the first time, though, the thought made him sad. Like he’d missed his ride and was going to be reduced to waiting on a street corner for another person to pick him up—but no one was approaching.

“Why did you come back to Sugarcreek, Ben Knox?”

“Because it was time,” he said, though it really told her nothing. And told himself nothing, too. He’d come back because he was tired of Missouri. And before he lost his nerve, he’d put his house on the market. He was hoping the house would sell fast. It was almost physically hard to be there. Probably most people felt that way about places filled with hurts and bad memories.

When Judith still stared, all bright and beautiful, he forced himself to tell her the truth. Just this once.

“I wanted to come back and have Christmas in Sugarcreek. For one last time.”

Her mouth went slack. “For only one last time?”

Because he’d told her too much, because the sudden feeling of loss was much too painful, he winked. “
Jah.
Not that it’s any of your business.”

With that, he forced himself to turn. Opened the door. Walked right under the chirping bird clock and away from the temptation that was Judith Graber.

The bitter cold that fanned his cheeks felt like heaven.

I
n spite of her best efforts, she still was a terrible cook, Lilly Miller decided as she pulled the roast chicken out of the oven and set it on the counter. Grimacing, she examined it closely, hoping that under closer scrutiny, things were better than she thought.

They weren’t. Without a doubt, she’d burned dinner. Again.

With a sigh, Lilly tugged on a wing. Instead of staying put, it pulled right off, just like it was relieved to be free of the burnt carcass. “I don’t blame you, wing,” she said out loud. “I’d escape this meal if I could, too. I’ve managed to ruin yet another dinner. Now what am I going to feed Robert?”

For a moment, she stared at their house phone. It would be so easy to call her mom and ask for cooking help. But her mom was busy with baby Carrie and certainly didn’t need Lilly bugging her again.

With a wince, Lilly knew she’d asked her mother for help more times during the last two months than she had for the first eighteen years of her life.

Being married was not for sissies! Though she and Robert had been married for two months now, Lilly was still finding it challenging. First there were the adjustments to be made, living as a Mennonite. Then there were all the challenges of being newlyweds. Especially since she was married to a man who’d been married before—to the perfect woman.

More than any of that, she was finding it difficult to be worthy of a man like Robert. A man who’d given up practically everything for her. After all, she couldn’t even roast a chicken properly. Or make decent mashed potatoes.

Or bake his favorite cake.

The fact of the matter was that sometimes when he left for work, Lilly wondered if he was glad to be away from her. She was young and impulsive and sometimes—okay, most of the time—spoke without thinking first.

Anxious for help, she looked longingly at her computer. Ever since she’d left Cleveland and started over in Sugarcreek, she’d become dependent on the thing. She bought music and used it as a stereo. She got on Facebook and stayed connected with the few girlfriends she kept in touch with from high school. She searched for recipes and simple instructions on how to sew her new dresses.

Last week, she’d even looked into the idea of taking some online classes. Though she knew she had little in common with most college coeds, it didn’t mean she didn’t want to learn anymore.

But each night when Robert came home, she quickly turned off the computer. And of course, she was never going to mention her college idea. After all, Robert sometimes confided that he felt dumber than her—his words not hers—because he only had an eighth-grade education.

He also didn’t trust her computer. Though he never said the words, she felt it. Which made her feel even more confused.

Now completely depressed and annoyed with herself, she turned her back on the burnt offering and sat down at the kitchen table. Here it was, ten days before Christmas, and she still had no gift for Robert.

Originally, she’d wanted to try to sew him something, but that had been a hopeless task.