Naomi’s Christmas (17 page)

Ben was a retired Englischer who enjoyed serving as a taxi driver for the Amish and
the horse-and-buggy Mennonites when they needed to go someplace too distant to take
a buggy.

“I should go then.” She started for the door.

Nathan rose and came after her. “I must go down and speak to Naomi before she leaves,”
he told the children. “I’ll be back up to say good night.”

Naomi went on down the steps, aware of his sturdy figure
behind her. Obviously she would come tomorrow. But what about the next day, and the
next? There was more to be said about Emma’s condition than Nathan had told the children.

When they reached the kitchen, safely out of earshot of the children’s room, she turned
to Nathan. “How bad is Emma’s injury?”

“It’s a broken hip.” He passed a hand over his forehead, as if he longed to wipe away
the events of the day. “She is back in her room and resting.”

Poor Emma. A broken hip was serious, for sure, at her age. “Is someone with her?”

Nathan nodded. “Emma is cousins with Lizzie Taubner, and Lizzie is sitting with her
tonight. Jessie was there, but she was so upset it seemed best to send her home.”

That fact probably didn’t need a comment. “I’m sorry. For Emma and for you.”

“Denke.” He ran his hand through his hair and gripped the back of his neck, his face
drawn with fatigue and worry. “It is wonderful kind of you to come today. And tomorrow.”

“What else would I do?” She managed a smile, trying not to think of her own concerns.
“You have enough to do without worrying about who is taking care of the kinder.”

“I shouldn’t have expected Emma to watch them. If she hadn’t been trying to do too
much, this never would have happened.”

Of course Nathan would try to take responsibility. “I do not think you could have
prevented Emma from taking care of her grandchildren,” she said, her voice mild.

Nathan shook his head, probably not cheered much by her words, true though they were.
“I never even questioned
Emma’s taking over after Ada died. Maybe I was too shocked then to think it through,
but that doesn’t excuse me from taking her for granted since then.”

“Nathan, Emma wanted to care for Joshua and Sadie. She loves them.”

Naomi longed to comfort him and wasn’t sure how. True, Emma was getting on in years
and in other circumstances would have been happy to settle into a quieter role, but
after Ada’s death, she had done what she had to. That was all anyone could do in the
face of such tragedy.

“I talked with the doctor,” he said abruptly. “Emma will be in the hospital for a
few days, and then she will be moved to the rehab unit. They will help her learn to
walk again.” He hesitated. Then he turned to her with a look of decision on his face.
“I can’t expect that Emma will ever be able to take on complete care of two young
ones again.”

She sensed what he was about to ask her and a wave of panic rippled through her. “You
can’t be sure—” she began.

He cut that off with a sharp gesture. “Joshua and Sadie have lost so much in their
lives already. Now their grossmammi. They need a woman they can count on.” He looked
at her, waiting.

She wanted to help him, longed to soothe the pain and worry from his face. But that
very longing set up warning signals in her heart. Caring for Nathan’s children seemed
coupled with caring about Nathan. She couldn’t let that happen—it was a sure recipe
for heartache. But she couldn’t desert the children, either.

“I will take over the kinder for the next few days,” she said carefully. “By then
you will know better what the future holds.”

“I know now.” His jaw was tight as he ground out the words. “And I know that spending
your life taking care of my children is not what you planned.”

Naomi pressed her fingers to her forehead. “Nathan, I must have time to think. Please,
don’t ask me to decide something this big all in a minute.” The panic intensified
as she felt the situation spinning out of her control.

Something of her panic must have communicated itself to Nathan. He took a step back,
seeming to force himself to relax. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Just promise me that
you’ll think about it.”

The wonder would be if she could think about anything else. “Ja. I will.” She went
quickly to get her coat before he could think of anything else to say to convince
her.

But he didn’t even try. He held the door for her. “Ben will pick you up in the morning
and take you home tomorrow night, so you don’t have to worry about driving the buggy
when it’s getting dark.”

“Denke,” she murmured. “I will be praying for Emma.” She escaped, going quickly toward
the waiting car.

It was too bad she couldn’t escape her thoughts so easily. Doing as Nathan wanted
meant changing the course of her life once again, when she’d barely begun to get used
to the aftermath of Daad’s remarriage.

And if she did say yes, where would she live? She couldn’t stay with Paula if she
wasn’t working at the bakery.

A month ago she’d thought she had no choices at all about her future. Now she had
too many.

Nathan
tossed the final bale of straw down to Isaiah the next afternoon. “That will do it,
I think.” He swung himself onto the ladder and climbed down from the loft.

Isaiah was already putting fresh straw in the last stall. Daad, coming in the barn
just then, shook his head.

“You boys have finished the cleaning without me? I told you I would help.”

“You help with plenty,” Nathan said. “Besides, Isaiah and I were seeing who could
work the fastest.”

Isaiah grinned. “I’m younger, so I’m faster.”

Nathan tossed a flake of straw at him. “You’re dreaming,” he retorted.

“You are in a gut mood,” Daad said. “Is there news from the hospital?”

Nathan nodded, knowing full well that wasn’t the cause of his raised spirits. “The
nurse I spoke to said Emma had a restless night, but she was smiling and talking today.”

“Gut, gut.” Daad gave him a knowing look. “And Naomi is here with the kinder again.
She will keep their minds off what happened yesterday.”

“Last time I looked in, they were making Christmas cards,” Isaiah said. “I remember
Naomi doing that with me.”

“I expect you wanted to join them,” Daad teased, gathering up the binder twine from
the bale.

Isaiah grinned. “Well, it did look like fun—all that colored paper and crayons and
paste.” He turned to Nathan. “Do you want me to get that harness ready to go for mending?”

Nathan nodded. “Ja, that would be gut. I’ll try to drop it off tomorrow at Bishop
Mose’s harness shop.”

Isaiah headed for the tack room, but Daad stood where he was, looking at Nathan with
a question in his eyes. “You are going to ask Naomi to stay for gut, ain’t so?”

“I already did, last night. It’s the best solution I can see.” He just hoped by this
time Naomi was ready to admit it was.

“What did she say?” Daad leaned against a stall, shifting his weight as if tired of
standing.

“She wanted time to think about it.” He couldn’t help clenching his jaw. “I don’t
have time. I’m going to talk to her again this afternoon. I thought maybe you could
bring the kinder outside so we can have a word in private. I wouldn’t want them to
hear.”

“I will,” Daad said. “But…”

“But what?” He didn’t want to sound impatient with his father, but he felt driven
to have this settled.

Daad’s gaze was steady, and he frowned a little. “It is not fair to push Naomi into
taking over the kinder if it’s not what she wants. She might have reasons you don’t
know about for wishing her life otherwise.”

Nathan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming himself. “I can’t pretend
it’s not important to me, because it is. But I will try not to push.”

“And try to listen, as well. Naomi is not one to blurt out everything that’s on her
mind. You must give her a chance to talk and not rush her.”

Much as it exasperated him, he had a sneaking suspicion Daad was right. He’d spent
the night coming up with answers for every objection he thought Naomi might raise.
Was that pushing? Well, maybe so.

“I promise I’ll be patient and listen,” he said. He nodded toward the house. “Maybe
we’d best do it now, before I get impatient again.”

Daad nodded, and they started toward the house side by side. Nathan rehearsed what
he would say, hoping he had the right words to persuade Naomi. Her answer was too
important to leave to chance.

Joshua and Sadie looked up from the table when the door opened.

“Who wants to go and give the horses a carrot?” Daad said.

“Me, me.” Sadie slid off her chair first, but Joshua beat her to the coat hooks.

“I can get my coat on faster,” he said, and promptly got it turned the wrong way around.

Laughing, Naomi came to his aid and then helped Sadie into her jacket. “Don’t forget
your mittens. I’ll get some carrots for you.”

In a moment Daad and the young ones were out the door, with Sadie still chattering
a mile a minute. Naomi turned to Nathan, and the smile slowly faded from her face.

“I guess you want an answer from me.”

Reminding himself of Daad’s words, Nathan tried to relax. He pulled out a chair at
the table, pushing the children’s cards to one side. “I thought it would be better
to talk about it when the kinder aren’t around. We couldn’t really discuss it much
last night.”

Moving slowly, Naomi took the seat across from him. It reminded him of the countless
times he’d seen her sit with Ada in this same spot, talking and laughing with cups
of tea
cooling in front of them. He’d asked Ada once what they found to talk about for so
long.

You always find things to say to an old friend,
she’d responded.
Even if I can guess what Naomi would say, I like to hear it from
her.

He pressed his palms on the table, willing away the sound of Ada’s voice. He’d best
think about what Daad had said, instead.

“Daad is afraid I’m trying to push you into saying yes,” he said, surprising himself.
He hadn’t intended to tell her.

But she smiled a little, and he was glad he had said it. “And aren’t you?”

She knew him too well. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But it is your decision.”

“Ja,” she said softly. She looked down at her hands.

He couldn’t see her eyes, and that bothered him. He might be able to tell what she
was thinking if he could look into her clear eyes.

“I know you love the kinder,” he said. “So it’s not that which makes you hesitate.
Tell me what it is, and maybe we can solve it together.”

She glanced up at him, and he thought she seemed flustered at being pinned down so.
“Well, there’s my honey business, to start with. It will take a lot of time when warm
weather comes. I don’t want to give that up.”

“I don’t want you to give it up. It’s important to you. But there are enough extra
hands here with me and Daad and Isaiah to help you out. I’ll take it to the stores
myself if you want.” He had a momentary image of himself selling honey along with
the milk.

Naomi’s face warmed, and he thought she was seeing that same picture. “That wouldn’t
be necessary. But there’s the bakery. Paula and Hannah have been wonderful kind to
me. I wouldn’t want to leave them shorthanded. And besides, I can’t stay with Paula
if I’m not working for her. That wouldn’t be fair.”

Her hands were gripping each other tightly, and he resisted the urge to place his
hand over hers.

“Just talk to Paula and Hannah. See what they say. You can do that much, can’t you?”

She nodded. “But—”

“Ja, a place to live is more serious. I don’t like the idea of you driving back and
forth all the time anyway, especially in bad weather. If you were here—”

“I couldn’t,” she said quickly, her face filled with something like panic. “Nathan,
you know that wouldn’t be suitable.”

“Not here in the house, no.” Surely she knew he wouldn’t suggest such a thing. “But
Isaiah and Libby live right here on the property.”

“I don’t want to move in with them. Newlyweds don’t need an older sister sharing the
same roof.”

“Not the same roof, either.” His own patience surprised him. But this was important,
and he had to get it right. “But the grossdaadi house where my daad’s aunt used to
live is right across the lane from Isaiah’s place. We’ve kept it in gut shape, and
we’d just have to move some furniture in.” He could see that the notion appealed to
Naomi, and he leaned forward. “You’d be right next to your brother and his wife. I’d
think that would make your daad happy.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but it would stop the mouths
of the gossips, at least.”

That startled him. “You believe folks would gossip because you’re here taking care
of my kinder? Why?”

She looked at him as if he were about Joshua’s age. “Folks always gossip. I’m too
close to you in age, and Ada’s friend besides. They would—” She stopped, her cheeks
growing pink.

They would say she was trying to catch him. He filled in the rest of the sentence
for her. He should have thought of that possibility, but it had never entered his
mind.

He kept himself from saying it was ridiculous. “At least if you were living next to
family, that would discourage talk.”

Naomi let out a sigh, seeming to relax a little. “You have an answer for everything.
Except for one thing. What if Emma doesn’t agree that she can’t come back full-time?”

Why did women always have to make things so difficult? Emma surely would see common
sense about the situation.

Or would she?

“I think,” he said slowly, “that Emma will realize it herself when she sees that her
recovery takes a long time. By then, Joshua and Sadie will be settled happily with
you. She’ll see that having you here is best for them.”

When Naomi didn’t answer, he clasped her hands in his, gripping them firmly so that
she raised a startled gaze to his. “The kinder can’t be left feeling that everything
in their life is temporary.”