Naomi’s Christmas (11 page)

With a quick glance around the shop to assure herself all was well, Naomi sat down,
clasping her hands in her lap.

“I want to say—” Daad stopped and cleared his throat. Then he gestured toward Betty.
“Betty has made me happy. I would like to see you make her wilkom in the family.”

Naomi had never heard her father speak that way, and for an instant she was too stunned
to answer. She collected her wits.

“Of course you are wilkom, Betty. It is wonderful gut that you and Daadi are happy
together.”

Now, if only Daadi would let her go her own way, as well…

“Denke, Naomi.” Betty, her cheeks maybe a little rosier than usual, put her spoon
very precisely next to her cup. “I was hoping you might stop by the house next week.
We could do some sorting together. Combining two households is not an easy task.”

“I’m sure that’s so.” Most of the family had helped move Betty’s things into the farmhouse,
but it had been on a day
Naomi was working, giving her a good reason not to take part.

“And it is only fair for you to take a share of all the canning you did this year,
ain’t so?”

Naomi swallowed hard. Perhaps, in the midst of her disagreement with Daad, she had
been unfair to Betty, who probably felt caught in the middle.

“That is wonderful kind of you, Betty. Denke. And I would be happy to do anything
I can to make you feel comfortable in the house.”

“Gut, gut, that’s settled then.” Daad rubbed his hands together. “You stop by anytime,
and when you do, I’ll leave you and Betty alone to visit, ja?”

Naomi nodded. Daad and Betty had clearly come to the bakery with this aim in mind.
She felt a twinge of doubt and brushed it away, feeling ashamed. This was what she’d
been praying for—Daad and Betty were trying to mend fences with her. The least she
could do was cooperate.

Naomi had returned to the farm as usual on Monday morning, and it surprised Nathan
how glad he was to see her.

Natural enough, he assured himself. Things ran so much more smoothly when she was
there to look after the children.

Nathan slowed his steps to keep pace with his daad as they walked toward the house.
The feeble sunshine of the morning had disappeared behind a thick bank of clouds.
Daad pulled his knit gloves up under his sleeves and cast an experienced gaze at the
sky.

“Looks like snow to me,” Daad said. “Flurries, anyway. That will make the kinder happy.”

“Ja, I heard them urging Naomi to go sledding with them once it snows. I doubt we’ll
get enough for that, though.”

Daad shrugged, and Nathan wasn’t sure whether he was expressing doubt over the amount
of snow likely to fall or the possibility that Naomi would want to go sledding.

“Surely is nice when Naomi is here,” Daad said. “She’s wonderful gut with the young
ones.”

Nathan found himself stiffening. “Emma is wonderful gut with them, too, and their
grossmammi besides.”

“I was not criticizing Emma,” Daad said mildly. “Just pointing out that you are fortunate
to have Naomi while Emma is away. And it is gut for the kinder to have someone take
care of them who’s more their mamm’s age, ja?”

Nathan nodded, pressing his lips together, hoping he was not being so defensive because
he’d just been thinking how glad he was for Naomi’s presence.

Maybe it was natural to feel a tad guilty at that comparison. He owed Emma a great
deal. She’d been constantly present for the children ever since Ada’s death, and he
could never forget his debt to her. She’d taken over the kinder and the house at a
time when he’d been so dazed he could barely dress himself, let alone take care of
his children.

He brushed his shoes on the mat at the back door and held the door for his father
to go in. They stamped into the kitchen, most likely bringing a blast of cold air
in with them.

Naomi stood at the stove, stirring something in a pot, and for an instant her slim
figure reminded him so strongly of Ada that he couldn’t catch his breath. Then he
realized that Joshua
and Sadie were standing on chairs on either side of her, close to the stove.

Too close. In a few quick strides he’d reached them and lifted both children down.

“That is too dangerous for you.”

Sadie’s face puckered on the verge of tears, and he knew he’d spoken too harshly.

It was Naomi’s fault, he told himself.

“But, Daadi, we’re making candy,” Sadie wailed, and Joshua looked at him with reproach
in his face. “Naomi is letting us help.”

“Ja, and now you’re going to help by putting butter all over this platter for me to
pour the candy on,” Naomi said.

If she’d been taken aback at Nathan’s abrupt action, she hid it well. She set a large
meat platter on the table in front of them and then dropped a slice of butter at each
end of it.

“Use your hands now. That’s why we washed them, so you can work with your hands. Spread
the butter all over the platter.”

Easily distracted, Sadie instantly began to do as she was told, but Joshua gave Nathan
a long look before turning to the work.

Daad bent over the pot, sniffing as Naomi beat its contents with a wooden spoon. “Ah,
penuche. I haven’t had that in—well, too many years to remember. We will enjoy that
for sure.”

“It is just about ready to pour.” Naomi gave it a final stir and lifted the pot from
the stove. “Everyone step back now, because the candy is very hot.”

The children took several obedient steps away from the
table, and Nathan found he was doing the same. Naomi poured the thick, caramel-colored
candy onto the platter, getting the last of it with a wooden spoon. Sadie seemed to
hold her breath until the candy was all transferred to the platter. Then she clapped.

“It’s so pretty,” she said. “Can we eat it now?”

“Not until it cools,” Naomi said. “That hot sugar would burn your tongue for sure.
Once it cools, we will cut it into pieces. You can eat a piece and give a piece to
your daad and grossdaadi, ja?”

“And save a piece for Aunt Sarah the next time she stops by,” Nathan added. “And Aunt
Jessie, too.”

If Nathan hadn’t been looking directly at his son when he said the words, he’d have
missed it. But at the mention of Jessie’s name, Joshua stiffened, his small face growing
wary, just for an instant.

Then he was smiling again, leaving Nathan unsettled, as if his son had seen something
that had disturbed his balance.

“Ach, look at the window,” Daad exclaimed. “It is snow-ing.”

There was a flurry of excitement as the young ones rushed to the windows to stare
eagerly at the first few lazy flakes that drifted toward the ground.

Sadie pressed her face to the pane and then swung toward Nathan. “Can we go outside
and play in the snow? Please, Daadi?”

He had to smile at her enthusiasm. “That is up to Naomi,” he said. “Grossdaadi and
I just came in for coffee. She is still in charge.”

Sadie dashed to Naomi, who was scoring the candy with a
knife. Clutching her apron, Sadie looked up at her. “Please, Naomi. Please can we
go out and play in the snow?”

“Hurry and get your jackets on.” Naomi’s smile warmed her face. “We will go and see
how much snow there is.”

The kinder stampeded toward the hooks where their jackets hung, and Daad moved to
help them, leaving Nathan alone next to Naomi for a moment. He looked at her, feeling
awkward.

“I didn’t mean to snap—about the stove, I mean.”

Her blue eyes measured him coolly. “It was the kinder you spoke to.” She moved past
him, headed for the door, leaving him feeling as if she’d put him in the wrong.

Naomi hurried outside, feeling the cold air nip at her as she pulled her jacket on.
She didn’t want the children to see her disagree with their father. But she also didn’t
want Nathan to put up unnecessary barriers between himself and his young ones.

She frowned, going down the back steps. Didn’t Nathan realize how often he was saying
no to them? Sadie and Joshua had been in no danger. Of course they’d wanted to see
the candy, but she’d been careful to keep them out of harm’s way. Better to have children
stand on chairs to watch than trying to reach for something on the stove, she’d always
found.

Well, it was unlikely she could change Nathan’s attitude in the limited time she had
left here. So she’d best concentrate on what she could do.

Sadie was spinning around, as if she were dancing with the snowflakes that were coming
faster and thicker now. Joshua
surveyed the sky with anxious eyes. “Do you think there will be enough snow for sledding,
Naomi?”

“Perhaps not this time,” she said, trying to cushion his disappointment when the flurries
stopped, and she thought they would. “But soon. How many snowflakes can you catch
on your tongue?”

That distracted them, as she’d known it would. Sadie ran around dizzyingly, chasing
after the places where she thought the most flakes were falling. Joshua, in contrast,
stood very still, tongue extended, as if he hoped to catch a shy butterfly.

Nathan came outside, holding a mug of coffee in one hand. He stood for a moment, watching
his children with a puzzled look on his face. “What are you doing?”

“We’re seeing who can catch the most snowflakes, Daadi,” Joshua explained. “I caught
five so far on my tongue.”

“I see.” He glanced at Naomi, his expression cautiously amused, as if wondering if
she were angry with him. “Sadie has an interesting method, that’s certain-sure.”

“I’m not sure whether it will catch her any snowflakes, but it’s guaranteed to make
her dizzy,” Naomi said.

Sadie, spinning wildly, bumped into her father and then grabbed his hand. “You play,
too, Daadi. See how many you can catch.”

Naomi thought for a moment that he’d surely make some excuse about getting back to
work. But he put his cup down, picked Sadie up and swung her around. “You are a snowflake
yourself, I think, Sadie-girl.”

She flapped her arms as if she’d take off. It was the first time Naomi had seen Nathan
spontaneously play with one of the
children, and it warmed her heart. She glanced toward Nathan’s father, who’d come
out onto the porch and stood watching them. He wore a startled smile, as if this was
new to him, as well.

“I am a snowflake, I am,” Sadie cried. When Nathan set her down she spun around, dancing
as a thicker flurry of snowflakes descended on her. “I’m a snowflake, see, Joshua?”

“Ten,” Joshua said, snapping his mouth closed. “I caught ten snowflakes with my tongue,
Naomi. That’s gut, isn’t it?”

“For sure it is,” she said. “Don’t you want your daad to swing you around like a snowflake,
too?” She had a feeling solemn Joshua wouldn’t ask on his own.

“Ja, will you, Daadi?”

In answer, Nathan picked him up, lifting him high in the air and spinning around.
“Now Joshua is a snowflake. A bigger one,” she said.

“Me again, me again,” Sadie chanted. She stepped into her father’s path, narrowly
missing Joshua’s flying feet.

Naomi pulled her back, giving her a hug. “I think it would be fun to play tag in the
snow.” She tapped Sadie’s nose. “You are It, Sadie. Can you catch me?”

She’d thought she could easily outdistance the child, but Sadie darted after her so
quickly she had to scurry to avoid being tagged. Nathan put Joshua down, and in a
moment all four of them were scampering around the yard, snow in their hair, trying
to escape.

Laughing and exhilarated, Naomi slowed down enough so that Sadie could tag her, knowing
Sadie would soon tire of the game if she had to be It all the time.

“I’m It now,” she said. “Who shall I chase? Joshua?”

She raced after Joshua, who squeaked and darted behind his father, then peeked around
Nathan’s bulk to make a face.

“Can’t catch me,” he said.

Naomi chased after him, sending him racing across the yard and back again to circle
his father. Finally, laughing and breathless, she tagged him, nearly knocking Nathan
down in the process.

Nathan caught her arm to steady her, looking down at her, his face ruddy with the
cold, his eyes laughing. “Who are the kinder here, Naomi? You look as if you are thirteen
again.”

She met his laughing gaze and her heart lurched, seeming to tumble in her chest. For
a moment she couldn’t seem to breathe.

Was it her imagination, or was Nathan having a similar problem? Snow frosted his hair,
and his face went oddly still for an instant, as if he was seeing something he hadn’t
seen before.

Then Sadie bounced into them, squealing, and Naomi turned to grab her, thankful for
the distraction. Her heart still seemed to thump erratically, and she fought to control
it.

She could not have feelings for Nathan King. She could not. Maybe it was a very good
thing that Emma would be back before long.

N
aomi
walked down Main Street toward Katie Brand’s quilt shop late that afternoon. The
snow flurries earlier had tapered off, as she’d expected, but even a brief flurry
had made her think of Christmas and the gifts she hoped to find time to make in the
busy days ahead.

Others in Pleasant Valley were certain-sure thinking about the approach of Christmas.
The Englisch merchants had already decorated their shops, and while the Amish didn’t
use lights, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy looking at what others had done.

The gift shop was beautifully decorated already, with swags of greenery twined with
hundreds of tiny white twinkling lights. Even Mr. Wainwright at the bookstore had
hung a wreath on his door to greet customers, though everyone in town knew he’d as
soon be left alone to read as wait on anyone.

The window of Caleb Brand’s handcrafted furniture shop, right next to Katie’s quilt
store, showcased a small wooden
chest of drawers with a bowl on top filled with greens. That would be Katie’s doing,
no doubt. She’d transformed Caleb’s shop, as well as his life, when she’d moved in
next door.