The Christmas Cradle (12 page)

“Do you expect an answer right now?” Josiah finally rasped.

“You've had eight months to figure it out,” Miriam pointed out. “Everybody in this room needs to know your answer, and needs to know you're gonna stand by it.”

Ben's heart swelled. Miriam had stopped defending Josiah and wasn't letting him wiggle out of this situation. Just as a man consciously hung his hat on a peg and then took it off again, the young fellow in their midst would either follow the rules of their faith and do right by Lena or he'd forever be an outsider.

Josiah cleared his throat nervously. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked, looking from Miriam to Ben. “I don't know where else to go—”

“Maybe Ira would let ya share his apartment above the mill,” Ben suggested.

Josiah frowned. “You've already planned this out. You want to get rid of me.”

“Nope, it's just an option,” Ben replied with a shrug. “Luke's movin' to Nora's place, so Ira's got an empty bedroom. Maybe you'd be more comfortable there, without the rest of us gawkin' at ya, waitin' for your answer.”

“We're not castin' ya out—yet,” Miriam confirmed. “Whatever you're thinkin' about your relationship with Lena, I want ya at the café tomorrow morning so we can talk about orderin' food and supplies and such. If you're not there by five, when Naomi and Hannah start cookin', I'll figure you're not gonna partner with us.”

“I'll be there,” Savilla stated as she rose from her chair. “Josiah's sold the farm, so Willow Ridge is my home now. No matter what my brother decides, my future's at the Sweet Seasons, so I'm
in
.” She held out her hand to Lena. “Shall we get some rest, sweetie? We've had a busy day.”

As the two young women went down the hallway toward the
dawdi haus,
Ben smiled to himself. Savilla had grit. She wasn't whining about the way her brother had so drastically changed her life, and she wasn't afraid to forge ahead. He was pleased that such a capable young woman wanted to work at the Sweet Seasons because it would make Miriam's exit easier.

Josiah sighed. “I'll go ask Ira about bunking with him for a while.
Denki
for giving me alternatives instead of just kicking me out.”

“You're welcome,” Ben replied. As Josiah fetched his coat in the kitchen, Ben slipped onto the couch beside Miriam. They kept quiet until they heard the back door close. “Bootin' Josiah out of our house could give him a quick excuse for leavin' altogether,” he remarked. “It would be easier on us, maybe, but it wouldn't do him a bit of
gut
.”

“Maybe he'll open up to Ira—get some things off his chest,” Miriam murmured as she snuggled against him. “Your brother's traveled the same road Josiah's on. I suspect Ira won't put up with much whinin' or complainin', either.”

“He might even charge Josiah some rent, which wouldn't be a bad thing,” Ben said with a chuckle. He wrapped his arms around Miriam to savor the comforting warmth of her body . . . the shifting of the baby against his side. “Whatever happens, God'll see to it. For now, it's just you and me, honey-girl, after a wonderful day celebratin' Luke and Nora's marriage—and eatin' some mighty fine food.”

“
Jah
, the Witmers put on quite a feast,” Miriam agreed. “Let's hope Josiah gets his act together so there'll be more where that came from.”

As the bell above the Sweet Seasons door jangled behind the last departing lunch customers on Saturday, Miriam sighed heavily. She stood at the serving window, gazing at the sturdy furniture the Brenneman brothers had built for her, the blue denim curtains she'd sewn for the café's opening, and the white board where Rhoda wrote the daily specials. Aromas of Josiah's brisket and ribs came into the kitchen as he carried the pans from the steam table into the kitchen. Rhoda, Rebecca, and Savilla chatted as they wiped down the tables. It had been a bittersweet day of keeping her emotions to herself, but at this moment Miriam felt as empty as the bakery case beside the cash register.

Naomi came to stand next to her. “Ya gonna be all right, dearie?” she murmured beneath the clattering of Josiah's metal pans. “If it makes ya feel any better, Savilla is top-notch help—and her brother'll come around, I believe. It was a
gut
idea for him to start cookin' his meats for the lunch shift.”

“
Jah
, that's truly his talent,” Miriam replied softly. “Savilla's a natural-born organizer, so I suspect they'll do fine in the evenings without your supervisin'. I'll probably write out another business agreement in a couple of weeks.”

Naomi smiled, grasping Miriam's hand. “It'll all work out. And I don't want to hear about how you're mopin' around at home or frettin' over how we're doin' without ya, understand me?” she insisted. “I can well imagine how
different
you're gonna feel, though. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I had to stay at home. Cookin' here keeps me goin' from one day to the next.”

“I know all about that.” Miriam turned her head so Naomi wouldn't see her blinking back tears. “Stayin' home's the right thing to do. But I can't think I'll be doin' anything that
matters
—leastways not until the baby's born.”

“Get some rest while ya can. You've forgotten how a wee one'll take up a lot of the time ya used to spend sleepin'.” Naomi slung an arm around Miriam's shoulders and leaned closer. “Why not slip out before the kids see ya gettin' teary-eyed?” she whispered. “After ya go, I'll give them a pep talk about how I expect things to keep runnin' smooth now that I'm to be in charge.”

Miriam swiped at her eyes. “
Gut
idea. I don't want anybody hoverin' or quizzin' me. You
are
the boss now, Naomi—and you're the best friend ever, too.”

Miriam got her wraps and quickly let herself out the back door. She stood beside the phone shanty, inhaling the frosty air to fortify herself—along with the luscious aromas that lingered around Josiah's cookers, which lined the windbreak wall between her building and Ben's smithy. When had she ever felt so fidgety? So unsure of what to do next?

As Miriam gazed past the white house where she and Jesse had raised their girls and beyond Bishop Tom's rolling pastures, however, a resonant voice filled her thoughts.
I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

Miriam stood taller. She felt as though Vernon Gingerich had somehow sensed her desperation and had shared Psalm 121 to comfort her. The passage had brought her peace on many occasions, especially after Jesse had passed, and as she recalled more of the familiar words she began to feel better.
The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.

“And why have I forgotten that?” she murmured. Maybe she was a lot wearier than she'd allowed herself to believe—or this was a wake-up call to realign herself with God's plan. It wasn't as though the Lord or His Son had forsaken her, after all. She was merely crossing the road to spend her days in the wonderful home Ben had built for her—not entering unfamiliar territory or the valley of the shadow of death.

When Miriam felt frosty little lines on her face where her tears had frozen, she chuckled at herself. She had a few loose ends to tie up before she walked away from the café, so she sat down on the wooden chair in the phone shanty. She removed her bonnet and dialed the number for Zook's Market.

“
Jah
, it's Miriam,” she said when the store's message machine beeped. “I'm stayin' home from here on out, so I won't be bakin' any more pies for your store. Naomi'll be callin' with an order real soon, I expect— and
denki
for that wonderful-
gut
beef and pork ya furnished for Josiah's grillin'. Don't be strangers!”

In the next several minutes she contacted the places around mid-Missouri where she'd provided baked goods. With each call it became easier to explain why she would no longer be cooking commercially. By the time she hung up and put on her black bonnet again, Miriam felt stronger. Ready to move forward.

Even so, as she paused at the top of her lane to look at the Sweet Seasons, Miriam knew it wouldn't be easy to see her café from the picture window without wishing she could be there. How many loaves of bread and pies had she made in that kitchen before anyone else in Willow Ridge was even awake? How many dozens of cinnamon rolls and cookies? How many folks had eaten at her tables, nourishing themselves so they could go on about their work?

Miriam blinked. Once again it seemed that Vernon had shared eloquent, uplifting passages from the Scriptures just for her. She smiled up at the sun, which appeared subdued in the hazy winter sky—yet it was shining faithfully.

You should do no less
, she reminded herself. Then she stepped through the back door of her home, into the kitchen Ben had built for her, to begin a new phase of the life God had blessed her with.

 

 

As Lena finished setting the table on Monday night, she suspected Josiah knew things he wasn't telling. He was staring out the picture window in the front room, raking his dark, wavy hair back from his face. Had Hiram Knepp confronted him again? Had his day gone so badly that he'd decided not to cook at the Sweet Seasons anymore?

“Come to supper,” Miriam called as she and Savilla carried food to the table.

Ben rose from the couch, setting aside his copy of
The Budget
. He clapped Josiah on the back as they approached the table. “How's it goin', workin' amongst all those hens?” he asked good-naturedly. “I've heard several fellas sayin' how much they enjoy your grilled pork steaks and ribs.”

“Far as I know, it's going all right,” Josiah replied cautiously. “Naomi seems glad to have me there—but it's only been four days.”

When they'd bowed their heads for the silent prayer, Lena peered at Josiah between her half-closed eyelids. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed repeatedly, as though words were stuck in his throat.

“I heard from the banker in Bloomfield today,” he said as Ben passed the bowl of macaroni and cheese. “The paperwork's in order, so the guy who bought the farm takes possession of it next week. After we finish at the café tomorrow, I'm heading up there to sign all the papers.”

Savilla's fork clattered to the table. “Who's going to pack all the stuff in that house?” she demanded. “What'll we do with the furniture, and Mammi's things, and—and all those jars of food in the cellar?”

“The neighbors said they'd be glad to help—I asked them last time I was home,” Josiah responded tersely. “You don't seem to think so, but I do plan ahead sometimes.”

Lena's heart ached for Savilla. Clearing out that big old house would be a daunting job. Stacks of old magazines and catalogs were piled in the corners, and she suspected that their
dawdi
's clothing and tools were still around, as well.

“So you told our friends about this before you told
me?
” Savilla blurted out. “That's where I grew up, too, you know! Maybe I'd like to go through Mammi's things—our parents' things—and save a few to remember them by!”

“And I'm thinkin' your brother would like ya to do that, too,” Miriam said as she rose from her chair. She slipped her arm around Savilla's shoulders, gazing purposefully at Josiah. “After all, you've both been busy at the café, so if your brother got that call from the bank fella today, he's not had a lot of time to tell ya about it, Savilla.”

Josiah smiled gratefully at Miriam as he reached across the table for his sister's hand. “Miriam's got it right,” he murmured. “I wasn't leaving you out of this, Savilla. I
want
you to go—and our friends all want to see you, too. They'll help us whenever I ask them to come over.”

“I'll go, too,” Lena insisted. “I couldn't carry furniture, but I could pack boxes or—”

“It's gettin' awfully close to your due date for ya to be liftin' things, or even ridin' that far in a rig,” Ben reminded her gently. “But
I'd
be happy to go along, Josiah, and I know fellas who have trailers and Belgians for haulin' your furniture back to Willow Ridge, if ya need them. Not tryin' to intrude, understand.”

Lena sat back. Ben was right about her staying off the roads and close to the clinic. Once again she was amazed at his generosity—his willingness to set aside his own work to help them, especially considering the fact that Josiah had caused the Hooleys so much trouble.

Savilla let out a long sigh. “I guess the idea that I'll never be going back home is finally setting in,” she murmured. “I didn't mean to lash out at you, little brother.”

Josiah chuckled. He was more than six feet tall, and with his broad shoulders and sturdy build, he dwarfed his sister, so
little
had always been a joke between them. Lena watched their faces relax. Along with a stubborn streak, the Witmers shared coal-black hair and dazzling blue eyes. Lena often found herself hoping the baby would have their striking features, dreaming of a little boy with Josiah's handsome face and the winsome grin she wished she saw more often.

That grin lit up his eyes as he gazed at Lena. “Thanks for offering to help, but I'd feel better if you stayed here where folks can look after you, Lena. You'd probably pick up heavier things than you should if you were packing because you're always trying to be helpful. Okay?”

Lena's heart fluttered and the baby kicked inside her. It seemed Josiah cared about her welfare, after all. “I'll stay put, then.”

“Glad to hear it,” Miriam affirmed. “What with a houseful of folks comin' for Thanksgiving in a couple of days, I'll be glad for your help with the cookin'—and I'm sorry you and Josiah will miss that day with us, Savilla,” she added kindly. “I can imagine how fast the thoughts are spinnin' in your heads, considerin' what all needs to be done at your home place.”

Miriam sat down again and supper continued on a happier note. Lena savored the ham loaf and the creamy mac and cheese she'd helped prepare. She was secretly relieved that she wouldn't be returning to Bloomfield for the flurry of packing and cleaning out at the Witmer place. It tired her just thinking about how much work needed to be done there in a short time. Then a different issue occurred to her. “Once you empty out your
mammi
's house, where will you put all that stuff?”

Josiah glanced at Ben. “I have no idea,” he admitted. “We've not been in Willow Ridge long enough to look for a place. Do you know where we can store what we bring—or where to rent a house near here?”

Ben chewed his mouthful of food. “Can't think of any place right off—”

“But if Rebecca looks on her computer, she might steer ya toward some rentals,” Miriam chimed in. “There's one of those store-it-yourself places in New Haven, too. Wouldn't cost much to keep your boxes and furniture in one of those units until ya find a house.”

Find a house.
As the others continued the conversation, Lena imagined a neatly kept home with trees and a garden, an outbuilding for the horses and rigs . . . rooms where a family could grow and a baby's laughter would lift their hearts. Was she naïve, dreaming of such a place? Would Josiah ask her to live there with him, as his wife and the mother of his child?

When she glanced up, Josiah met her gaze. In that moment, as his eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look, Lena could believe his thoughts were in step with hers.

I won't go hungry or homeless after the wee one's born, Lord
, she prayed gratefully.
But if You could arrange it—if You could help him understand—I'd really like to spend my life with Josiah. We push each other's buttons, but he's the right man for me.