Christmas in Sugarcreek (5 page)

Chapter Six

Eight Days Until Christmas

“C
aleb, if I get stuck on your couch, help me up, wouldja?” Rebecca called out from underneath a pile of pillows and quilts.

From his chair to her right, Caleb craned his neck to try to see Becca, but even that little movement caused his muscles to scream out in pain. For the last three days, they’d collected cans, sorted them into two dozen baskets, picked up frozen chickens from a nearby poultry farm, then put those in one of his family’s freezers at their store. It had been a lot of work, especially since he was sore from loading bricks into the kiln at the factory.

“Nope, if you get stuck, you’re on your own. I don’t think I’m going to be able to move anytime soon.”

Maybe one of your siblings could run over to my house and tell my
mamm
that I won’t be home soon. Maybe not for a few days. Do you think Anson would mind?”

Caleb couldn’t help but smile as he contemplated the idea of being around Rebecca nonstop for days at a time. “
Nee.
I’m sure Anson wouldn’t mind doing that chore at all. Especially since he’s always looking into my business.”

She chuckled as she shifted with a groan and finally sat up. “My little sister Amanda used to be the same way when she was younger. A nuisance, that’s what she was.”

“I’m sure she was nothing like Anson and his buddy Ty. They are both incorrigible.”

As if he’d heard his name, Anson came in the room. As he looked from Caleb to Rebecca to Caleb again, his eyes narrowed. “Whatcha doing?”

“Recovering,” Caleb said.

Anson took that as a reason to come closer. “From what?”

“We’ve been working on the Christmas baskets for the last three days,” Rebecca said. “All we’ve been doing is gathering items and sorting them out. They are heavy.”

“Really heavy,” Caleb added. “We’ve also been wrapping gifts.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to wrap presents, Caleb,” Anson said.

“I do now.” Fact was, if he never saw another roll of bright red wrapping paper, it would be too soon. “I’m so tired I could sleep until Christmas Day.”

“You better not!” Rebecca said with a laugh. “We still have to finish the baskets. And deliver them all.”

“I could help,” Anson said. “When are you two working on them again?”

“Tomorrow,” Rebecca said before Caleb could let Anson know that his help was definitely not needed.

Anson positively beamed. “I’ll let Mamm know I’m going to go with you,” he said before turning away in a rush.

“See what I mean?” Caleb asked as he pushed himself off his chair and walked toward her. “He’s a pest.”

“He’s cute. Of course, he’s not as cute as his older brother.” Holding her hands out, her eyes shone. “Help me up, wouldja?”

“Sure.” Crossing to her, he bent slightly and grasped her hands. A careful yank pulled her up.

And then, there she was, standing right in front of him. Close enough that the hem of her dress tangled around his legs. Close enough for him to smell that faint hint of vanilla that always seemed to play upon her skin.

Close enough to make him dare to flirt a bit. “When you talked about a cute older
bruder
. . . were you speaking of Joshua?” he asked.

To his pleasure, Rebecca didn’t step backward. Didn’t pull away her hands. No, instead of looking frightened or uncomfortable, she shook her head. “I am not speaking of Joshua.”

“Are ya speaking of me?”

Her dimples popped. “Perhaps.”

Before he could stop himself, he blurted, “I think you’re pretty, Rebecca. Mighty pretty.”

“You do?”

He nodded. Then, fool that he was, he kept talking. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you, too,” she murmured.

Maybe this was the moment. Maybe right now, right here, he could put his hands around her and pull her even closer—

Becca stepped backward and let go of his hands and Caleb immediately felt her absence. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off, so he stepped backward, too. “Tomorrow, where would you like to meet?”

“How about here? Your mother told me she’d help me make some dishcloths for the baskets.”

“I can meet you here after work. You know, you’re sure doing a lot for these baskets. Why?”

Her expression shuttered. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s just nice to do something for other people, you know.”

“I hope everyone will appreciate it.” He frowned, privately wondering if any of the recipients will even think twice about how much work had gone into the gifts.

“I like putting the baskets together. It makes me happy.”

“Of course it does. You’re the most caring girl I’ve ever met, Rebecca. You’re always thinking about other people.” Unable to stop himself, he brushed two fingers against her cheek. Pushing back two strands of hair.

Enjoying the feel of her soft skin.

For a moment, her eyes fluttered shut. Just as if she was truly enjoying his touch.

But when her eyes opened and focused on his, there was a new wariness there. As if his praise didn’t seem to go over very well. Instead of looking pleased, she looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry if I’m embarrassing you,” he said. “I just wanted you to know how I felt.”

“You didn’t embarrass me. I better go now, though.”

He didn’t want to leave her side. And he hated the idea of her being outside in the dark and cold alone. “How about I walk you home? It’s dark out.”

“
Nee
. . . there’s no need for that. I’ve got my bicycle.”

“But it’s still awfully dark. Judith has the buggy, but the courtin’ one is here. I’ll be happy to take you home in that. I’d like to.”

For a moment, he thought she’d give in. But then she shook her head. “I’ll just see you here tomorrow.”

“But Rebecca, I don’t feel right about you being alone—”

“I’ll be fine. Truly,” she said, iron in her voice.

When she walked to the front door, Caleb raced to her side. Something was wrong and he wasn’t quite sure what it was. But he ached to make her happy.

“Hey . . . Rebecca?”

She stopped. “Yes, Caleb?”

He felt like an idiot, but he couldn’t stop himself. “If I, um, kissed you on the cheek would you get mad?”

All at once the sparkle that he loved appeared back in her eyes. Right before she tucked her chin down. “
Nee.
I wouldn’t get mad, Caleb.”

Not needing another invitation, he curved his palms around her shoulders and leaned close. Tried real hard to ignore that her skin smelled fresh and clean and girlish.

“Raise your head, would you, Rebecca?” Eyes wide, she did just that. And then he pressed his lips on her velvety soft cheek.

It lasted all of two seconds. The blush that appeared right after made him think of roses under warm summer skies.

Moments later, her bonnet and cape on, he watched as she walked down his front walkway.

And Caleb was left standing there grinning.

“What are you lookin’ at?” Anson asked when he came back out of the kitchen.

“Nothing.”

“Had to be something. Hey, I talked to Mamm and she said I could go with you and Rebecca tomorrow.”

The last thing Caleb wanted was an Anson chaperone. “You better not,” he warned.

“But you said—”

“Anson, I don’t want you around when I’m with Rebecca.”

“She wants me there.” Looking as ornery as ever, Anson turned away. “I’m going to go tell Mamm.”

Caleb folded his hands across his chest as Anson ran off to do what he did best—get into someone else’s business.

But instead of running to his mother to explain his side of the story, he leaned against the windowpane next to the front door and looked for a hint of Rebecca.

Already he couldn’t wait to see her again. By just being herself, Rebecca had given him a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a very long time. For too long, he’d felt suspended between two worlds—the Amish one he’d been born into and the English one that surrounded them all.

Just a year ago, he’d been ready to cross the line and move away from Sugarcreek. His neighbor Lilly Allen had even taken him to her friends in Cleveland in case he wanted to stay with them for a spell.

But then he’d finally had a true conversation with his father and he realized he had choices. He could work at the brick factory instead of at the store or on their farm. And the pressure he’d felt to become the person everyone expected him to be had morphed into the freedom to become the person he wanted to be.

Thinking back, Caleb still couldn’t believe what a revelation that had been. Receiving choices had been all he’d needed to make some for himself. Those choices had included Rebecca. He wanted her in his life. He needed her.

All he had to do was figure out how to get her to feel the same way about him.

“Y
ou drive a horse real good,” Judith told Ben when he turned the buggy easily onto her house’s long driveway.

He glanced at her in amusement. “Sometimes you say the strangest things. Didn’t you think I’d be able to handle your buggy?”

“Well, yes . . .” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I guess I was just looking for something to say.” Obviously she wasn’t terribly creative.

“
Nee.
It’s my fault. I blurt out things a lot of the time. Sometimes I forget that every comment isn’t a criticism.” He halted Beauty then and pulled up the brake. “Is this a good place to stop? Or would you rather me guide her into the barn?”

“
Nee.
This is fine.”

As she started to scramble out of the buggy, Ben stayed her with a hand. “Hold up. I’ll help you out.”

Just as she was about to tell him that she’d been getting in and out of buggies just fine without his help, he’d jumped down, walked around, reached for her hand with his one hand and her waist with his other and, before she could prepare herself, was swung out of the conveyance.

For one brief moment, she felt herself completely in his grip. He held her confidently, and with such a sure expression that she intuitively knew that was how he did all things.

Feeling her insides melting, Judith stepped away and cleared her throat. From somewhere, she needed to locate her backbone. After that, she needed to remember just how irritating he could be.

It probably wouldn’t hurt to remember that he wasn’t a man who stuck around, either.

He was most definitely not the type of man to dream about having a future with.

But as she stood there, mere feet from him, Judith started wondering why she didn’t really believe that anymore.

“Judith?” Ben swallowed. “Are you all right?”

No. She was confused and feeling particularly vulnerable. She was just attempting to figure out how to tell him that when her father came out of the barn.

“Benjamin, what a nice surprise.
Wilkum
.”

Beside her, Ben stiffened.
“Danke.”

Even though she’d just firmly told herself that . . .
I—am—not—attracted—to—Ben—Knox,
 Judith found herself edging closer to him. Offering him security. “Ben offered to see me home, Daed. I invited him for dinner, too.”

A bit of interest flickered in her father’s expression before he nodded. “That’s a fine idea. Why don’t you two run on into the house? I’ll take care of Beauty for you.”

“I’m happy to do that for you, Mr. Graber,” Ben said.

An almost-sympathetic look crossed her father’s face before he smiled easily. “I know you would, Ben,” her father replied. “And to be sure, you may take care of things another time. Now, though, why don’t you walk Judith in? It’s chilly out here.”

Ben nodded and looked to Judith. “You ready to go inside?”

She loved how he did that—here he was giving her choices, not just following her father’s directives blindly.

“I’m ready. Let’s go and tell Mamm that we’ll need to set one more place for dinner.”

As they started walking, he looked her way again. “I hope she won’t mind.”

Well, that comment certainly lightened her mood. “Ben. Have you not seen our family? Believe me, one more person won’t make a difference. Our mealtimes are chaotic and loud. No one will hardly notice you’re there.”

Chapter Seven

A
s Ben plopped a spoonful of mashed potatoes on his plate, then reached for the wiggling serving dish of carrots and peas from Judith’s tiny sister Maggie, he was starting to think that Judith’s comment hadn’t been far off the mark. A Graber family dinner was chaotic, indeed.

As he looked around the wide wooden table, it was obvious that nearly every spot was filled. He wasn’t the only guest. In addition to Mr. and Mrs. Graber, Judith, Caleb, Anson, Toby, and Maggie, there were at least five others. Ty Allen, who turned out to be Anson’s best friend. Next to him were Tim Graber and his wife, Clara. Finally, to his great surprise, there were Mr. and Mrs. Allen, Ty’s parents. And on the floor near Mrs. Allen sat their baby, Carrie, in a carrier.

No one seemed to care that the Allens were
Englischers
.

And no one had seemed too concerned that he was there, neither. In fact, the only person who gave him much attention was Judith. Which should have made him feel better but instead just set him on edge. Spending the day working at her side had made his infatuation complete. Now he had to be sure he didn’t stare at her too often.

Even a smile from her could make him feel like stuttering.

“Ben?” Mrs. Graber prompted. “Would you mind quickly grabbing that platter of chicken from Maggie?”

With a start, Ben lifted the dish from the five-year-old’s small, chubby hands. “Sorry,” he muttered to her.

A shy one, Maggie turned away and simply reached for another plate.

“You’ve outdone yourself tonight, Irene,” Mrs. Allen said. “Roast chicken, potatoes, peas and carrots, cornbread, and cranberry salad! It’s a feast.”

“You brought the chocolate-peppermint cake and the cranberry Jello-O and pear salad. Don’t forget that, Barb.”

As food continued to get passed and compliments abounded, Ben tried to remember if he’d ever had such a big meal. If he’d ever been a part of such a joyous, happy group.

He didn’t know who he was trying to kid. Of course he hadn’t. Dinners at his house—when there had been dinner—had involved silence and the barest of meals. They hadn’t had much money for a bountiful table.

When everyone had finally been served, Mr. Graber said, “Let us give thanks for all our blessings.”

As silence filled the air, Ben bowed his head and closed his eyes and prayed. Of course, there wasn’t enough time for him to count all his recent blessings. He’d have to visit with the Lord late that night when he had all the time in the world.

But still, he thanked the Lord for the meal and the hands that made it, and of course, for the Grabers. When he lifted his head, he felt Judith’s gaze on him.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Please enjoy the meal.”

He would’ve been more self-conscious if he’d felt that more of the people were paying attention to him. But in truth, no one really was. Clara and Tim were speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Graber about Christmas preparations, while Mrs. Allen was laughing with Ty and Anson about a sled crash they’d recently had.

Toby was showing Caleb a cut on his finger, and Judith was carefully cutting her chicken.

“You like?”

To his surprise, it seemed little Maggie was the only person interested in him. “Do I like what?”

She pointed to her pile of peas and carrots. “These.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Making him laugh. “
Jah.
You don’t?”

After covertly glancing her mother’s way, she shook her head.
“Nee,”
she whispered. Like she was sharing the most daring of secrets.

Feeling slightly silly, he said the thing he was supposed to say. Well, what he thought he was supposed to say, anyway. “You should like them. Vegetables make you stronger.”

“Like you?” She pointed to his arm—to his bicep—with wide eyes. “You’re mighty big.”

To his astonishment, he found his cheeks turning hot. How sad was that? He was that unused to even the smallest of praise. “
Jah,
like me.”

“You’re gonna have to lift a mountain of peas to look like Ben,” Anson said. “His arms are huge. Way bigger than Caleb’s.”

Caleb glared at his little brother. “Ben’s older. Of course his arms are gonna be bigger.”

Ty Allen joined in. “Do you lift weights?”

One by one, all the occupants looked at him. Right on cue, he felt his cheeks heat. “No,” he said. “When I was with my aunt, I, uh, farmed a lot. It was hard work.”

To Ben’s relief, Tim leaned close to his wife and flexed his arm playfully. “See, Clara? You chose well. Us farmers are a hardy lot.”

“You’re going to need those muscles to carry around twins,” Mr. Graber quipped.

“Clara thinks I’ll do. Right, wife?”

Laughter erupted around the table as Clara teased him right back. Now that the focus was off him again, Ben leaned back in his chair.

Maybe he should have never agreed to take Judith home. He was poor company, that was for sure. Of course, if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see she got home safe . . . or to enjoy the delicious meal.

“You’re doing good,” Judith said, leaning his way. “Please don’t worry.”

Embarrassed, he was about to tell her that he was definitely not worried. That he didn’t need her support . . . but when he looked into her eyes, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to say a thing.

Her eyelashes looked longer than ever, and they framed the most compassionate pair of blue eyes he’d ever had the good fortune to gaze into. When she blinked, his mouth went dry.

So all he did was jerk his head into a clumsy nod. And concentrate on his meal.

“When supper’s over, do you want to play with my animals?” Maggie asked. “I have a new goat.”

“You have a what?”

After a furtive glance right and left, she pulled out a plastic white goat from under her apron. “See?”

“I’d love to,” he said, knowing that little Maggie was surely wrapping his heart around her finger with every smile. “As long as I get to be in charge of the pig.”

As he hoped, Maggie giggled. “Okay.”

He was still smiling when he spooned up another amount of peas and carrots . . . and Maggie copied him.

And he knew he’d never felt so good as when Judith lightly squeezed his forearm at the end of the meal. Letting him know that everything was good—that he’d fit in just fine.

Of course, he knew things were much better than that.