The Christmas Cradle (5 page)

Lena felt a pang of homesickness. Aunt Clara hadn't cooked much, so the loaded table—and all the folks who were taking seats around it—carried her back to happier times and Sunday dinners her extended family had shared at home.

“Is Josiah in Higher Ground checking out the supper club?” Rhoda asked after they'd given thanks. “I'm anxious to hear about it.”

Lena took two crisp chicken tenderloins and passed the platter to Rebecca. “I hope he's headed back to Bloomfield instead of signing on with Hiram,” she replied. “He didn't see a building for a new restaurant while he was in Higher Ground.”

Rebecca shook her head doubtfully. “I was hoping Josiah would cook a supper shift at Mamma's place.”

“He and I have chatted about that,” Ben remarked, smiling at Lena from the head of the table. “I'd like to see him take on that challenge, too. It would be
gut
for a lot of us.”

“This could be a way to relieve Miriam of working so many hours, too,” Andy Leitner put in. He was a nice-looking fellow with deep brown eyes who hadn't let his medical training stand in the way of becoming Amish.

“What kind of cooking does Josiah do?” Millie asked. She smiled at Lena from across the table. “I've never heard of a Plain fellow being a cook.”

Lena felt the gazes of all fifteen people around the table, sensing they were sincerely interested in Josiah's grilling rather than skeptical of it. “He makes the best pulled pork you've ever eaten. Roasts whole hogs, too, but he's also
gut
with chicken and ribs. I hope he'll convince his sister Savilla to return to Willow Ridge with him because she makes the side dishes. They're quite a team.”

“Now that sounds like
gut
eating!” Ira said.

“And nobody else in this area offers that sort of meal,” Luke remarked. “Folks who stick to something they do really well—like Miriam baking and Nora bringing so many different crafts into her shop—can make
gut
money at it here. Customers pay more than I ever figured on for the specialty grains and cage-free eggs we sell at the mill.”

“And everyone's shop attracts customers who visit everyone else's,” Nora chimed in, “Once folks get to Willow Ridge, they spend most of a day shopping in our stores.”

Lena nodded, her hopes rising. In Bloomfield, Josiah and Savilla had to travel to the events they catered. Cooking in one place, where their customers came to them, would save them a lot of road time and effort.

Across the table, Millie lit up like a lamp. “What if we asked Josiah to cook your wedding feast, Mamma?” she asked excitedly. “It would be something different from the traditional chicken roast.”

“That sounds awesome!” Ira replied. “You broke the mold by joining the Mennonites, so why not serve a different sort of dinner?”

Nora's eyes widened. “
I'm
no cook,” she teased, “so I was depending on Miriam and the usual helpers to handle the meal. But if Josiah grilled, those ladies wouldn't have to work so hard.”

“That might help Josiah decide whether he wants to set up his business here, too,” Ben pointed out. “He and Savilla would meet everybody for miles around—and if the guests leave a lot of food, they'll know our folks don't like his cooking before he commits.”

“Do you suppose Josiah and his sister could do that on such short notice?” Luke asked.

“We're getting hitched a week from this Thursday,” Nora explained. “But that should give Henry Zook at the market plenty of time to get the meat ordered, along with the other food they would need.”

The baby began kicking inside Lena, picking up on her excitement. “I'll call his cell and ask him. Maybe if Josiah knew he had a special event to cater, he'd warm up to the idea of settling here.”

“We'll pay him whatever he wants to charge,” Luke insisted as he grinned at Nora. “The more I think about this idea, the more I like it.”

“So ya won't want me to do
anything
for your wedding?”

The room got quiet as everyone took in Miriam's plaintive expression. Lena thought the poor woman might cry because she wasn't needed for the wedding preparations.

Rhoda grabbed her mother's hand. “Nobody makes a wedding cake like you do, Mamma,” she said with a knowing smile at Nora.

“And the neighbor ladies are planning a pie frolic, so there will be lots of other desserts, too,” Rachel remarked.

Lena chuckled. “You make a
gut
point because I don't think Savilla's ever made a wedding cake.”

“That settles it,” Nora proclaimed. “I'm glad you spoke up, Miriam, because the cake you baked for Rhoda and Andy's wedding was fabulous.”

Miriam shrugged modestly. “I love makin' them,” she admitted, “and I'm happy that so many young folks are hitchin' up and settlin' down here. But we haven't heard Josiah's answer.”

Once again everyone gazed at Lena with a sense of expectation that lifted her spirits. “I'll call him right now.”

“Our phone shanty's behind the Sweet Seasons—and take your time with Josiah,” Miriam added. “I think he'll be mighty glad to hear from ya.”

When Lena stepped outside, gray clouds hung low over the horizon, hinting at snow, yet she felt like a little girl who held a handful of colorful balloons. From the Hooleys' lane she gazed at snow-blanketed fields dotted with dairy cows, sheep, and horses. Red barns added color to the otherwise snowy scene, and she yearned to call Willow Ridge her new home.

After Lena crossed the snow-packed blacktop and eased into the phone shanty, she stared at the phone. How could she convince Josiah to accept the opportunity Nora and the Hooleys were offering him? Although his cell was always in his pocket, Lena suspected he wouldn't answer when he saw where this call was coming from. She tapped in Josiah's number. His voice mail prompted her to leave a message.

“Josiah, you won't believe it!” she began. “Nora's asked you to cater her and Luke's wedding a week from Thursday. Everybody wants to try your food—wants you and Savilla to set up your business here. Wouldn't working at the Sweet Seasons be easier than hauling your cookers everywhere?” she added.

If she made this sound like a command performance, however, Josiah would turn a deaf ear. Lena closed her eyes, praying for the right words. “Why not give it a shot?” she murmured earnestly. “If this event doesn't go the way you want—or if you and Savilla have a better idea for your catering business—it's okay. You have to do this your way or it won't work. I—I love you, Josiah. And I miss you something awful.”

Lena hung up, fearing she'd sounded desperate—and hoping Josiah didn't think she was using this wedding to lure him back to her.

“This is bigger than you and me and the baby, Josiah,” she whispered as she hugged their unborn child. “It's about taking your place in another part of God's world, where you'll do well—if you'll only believe that.”

Josiah didn't call her back, so Lena left the phone shanty. There was nothing to do but wait.

Josiah waited for the incoming call to end and the voice mail number to appear on his cell phone screen. If it was Lena, he wasn't sure he could resist the sound of her voice. It had been a knee-jerk reaction to abandon her the moment he heard her neediness and saw the disappointment in her blue eyes, and he regretted that. Maybe if he'd had a
dat
to show him how to be the man of a family . . . maybe if Dat and his
mamm
hadn't been killed in that rig wreck, snatched away without any rhyme or reason, he wouldn't be so afraid to love Lena. If he lost her, too . . .

Josiah finally tapped his phone screen and listened as Lena's voice rose with excitement, telling him of a Willow Ridge wedding dinner before easing into that husky murmur that did crazy things to him.

Why had Lena stuck with him so long, believing he could make something of himself? Josiah tucked his cell into his pocket. She'd probably used the Hooleys' phone, which meant Ben or Miriam might hear his message if he called her back. So he didn't.

“What was that all about?” Savilla demanded. She stood at the stove, warming a can of soup for their Sunday dinner. Her purple dress was faded and her face seemed pale beneath the black hair that was tucked under her
kapp
. “For a moment you lost that hangdog look you've had lately. Must've been Lena, huh?”

Josiah's lips twitched. How did women figure out what he was caught up in—and how he should respond—before
he
knew? “You and I have been asked to cater a wedding dinner next week,” he replied. “I'm guessing we could use the kitchen of that café I told you about—”

“We've worked in worse places.”

“—and the whole town would probably come out for it,” Josiah continued in the most nonchalant tone he could muster. “We could run our business from there, too, once everybody gets a taste of our food. Miriam's all for it, but Ben wants the details in writing. I just don't know about that.”

Savilla planted a fist on her hip. “Fine and dandy, but what'll we do with this farm and the animals? What'll we say to the neighbors? And what'll you tell that Knepp fellow?” she demanded. “Lots of questions have been hanging fire since you saw his ad, and I've not heard any answers!”

“You know, I've had
enough
of people telling me what to do,” Josiah retorted.

“Then make up your mind,” his sister shot back. “You suddenly have some new opportunities, and until you commit to one of them, Lena and I are left hanging. I don't like feeling so betwixt and between, Josiah.”

“So marry Floyd Stoltzfus and your troubles will be over,” he blurted out, regretting his words even before they rang in the high-ceilinged kitchen.

As Savilla faced the stove again, her crestfallen expression made Josiah want to kick himself. Why did he smart off to everyone lately, wounding the two young women who loved and depended on him? Floyd had wanted to court Savilla for months, but why would his beautiful sister hitch up with a widower who was ten years her senior and had four rambunctious kids? Stoltzfus ran a sawmill and had all the personality of the sawdust that clung to his shaggy hair.

“That was a low blow. Sorry,” Josiah mumbled.

The color rose in Savilla's cheeks. “Join the church and marry Lena and
your
troubles will be over,” she shot back. “Or at least your soul—and your baby—will have a future. If marrying Floyd would make you take charge of your life, Josiah, I'd do it in a heartbeat.”

Josiah went to the counter to slice some bread. He couldn't expect Savilla to keep this old place running by herself, and he really didn't want her to marry Floyd. “Okay, so let's cater that wedding next week,” he suggested. “If our food's a hit, we can sign on with Miriam to do a supper shift in her café.”

“And if her husband tells us to move on? What then?”

“Maybe by then Knepp's supper club will be built.”

“And what'll we do about this farm?” Savilla repeated. “Considering the consequences of your snap decisions has never been your strong point, little brother.”

Josiah winced, knowing she was right. But if he put their property up for sale, who would buy it? The dingy paint in the kitchen was a minor detail compared to the deteriorating boards in the barn and the leaning pasture fences. He'd been too busy cooking the past few years to remedy the many problems of this poor old place.

“Let's say we could sell the farm,” Josiah began cautiously. “Then we could probably afford a house in Willow Ridge. Meanwhile, the Hooleys have offered Lena their
dawdi haus
, and they were letting me stay in a spare bedroom—”

“Buying a house in a new town is a big step,” Savilla interrupted. “If the farm sells and then we can't support ourselves in Willow Ridge—along with Lena and the baby—what'll we do? If we stay here, at least we won't have to worry about keeping a roof over our heads.”

Why did new opportunities present so many problems? Savilla was making valid points, however, and she wouldn't let him pretend he had no responsibility for creating a new life—and for the mother of his child. Savilla and Lena expected him to be the man of this family, so why couldn't he step up and do right by them?

“All right, here's the deal,” Josiah stated, hoping to be done with this push and pull of conflicting feelings. “We'll cook for that wedding. If Willow Ridge and the people there don't appeal to you, we'll come back to Bloomfield and keep on catering.”

Savilla ladled soup into two bowls, considering her response. “We'll have a lot more work than we've been used to, serving supper five or six nights a week,” she mused aloud. “You and I can't do that by ourselves, and Lena will have a baby to care for, so she won't be helping us.”

Josiah considered the folks he'd observed while he'd eaten breakfast in the Sweet Seasons. “With Miriam having a baby at Christmastime, and one of her waitress daughters getting married a while back, we might have to scout the wedding crowd for help,” he replied as he set the bread on the table. “And I have a feeling that because Miriam wants a supper shift to succeed, she'll help us find the folks we need. She's a woman who makes
gut
things happen, you know?”

A tentative smile warmed Savilla's dark eyes. “I'd like to meet this Miriam,” she murmured. “I miss being with our
mammi
. She always believed that if she asked God for something, she would receive His answer in due time.”

“She was a strong woman, our grandmother. Miriam's a lot like her,” Josiah murmured, reaching for his sister's hand. “You're strong, too, Savilla. I don't know what I'd do if you ever gave up on me.”

“Don't you forget that,” she teased. “Who knows? Maybe I'll meet a nice guy in Willow Ridge and get hitched. You'd better take care of Lena, or someday you'll be all by your lonesome.”

Was that a sparkle in his sister's eyes? A whisper of hope for her future? None of the eligible fellows around Bloomfield suited her so maybe a fresh start in Missouri was a better idea than he'd originally figured on.

It was worth the effort of cooking up a wedding feast to find out.

 

 

Ben shifted one of the two wrought-iron trellises he'd made for the Simple Gifts shop, following Nora's directions.

“Shift it a hair to the left,” she said from behind him. “Perfect! These will probably be gone by the end of the week, considering how fast your other pieces have sold.”

Ben gazed at the amazing amount of merchandise Plain crafters had consigned to Nora's store. Walnut bedroom sets, hand-tooled saddles, and wooden rocking horses sold soon after they were tagged. Magnificent quilts and hand-sewn banners hung from the loft railing. Even on this dreary Monday afternoon, ladies eagerly fingered embroidered linens and pottery—customers he'd seen eating lunch at the Sweet Seasons earlier.

“I'm glad your place is doing so well,” he remarked. “And these orders for trellises and garden gates keep me busy when nobody's bringing their horses in to be shod.”

“I never dreamed I'd attract so much business so fast,” the redheaded shopkeeper confessed as she accompanied him to the door. “The store's only been open two months, and every day I'm calling my crafters with special orders or asking them to replenish their stock.”

“And to think ya might not've come back to Willow Ridge,” Ben teased as he slung an arm around her shoulders. “I'm glad you'll be my sister-in-law, Nora. Luke might've wandered like a lost sheep for the rest of his life had ya not come along to straighten him out!”

As they laughed together, Ben put on his hat and coat. He opened the door to leave, and then gazed toward the county road that ran between his home and the café. “Are my eyes playin' tricks on me or is that horse pullin' a wagonload of grills?”

Nora peered around his shoulder and then clapped him on the back. “Looks like Luke and I will have quite a wedding feast! I hope this all works out,” she added pensively. “Lena and Josiah are so young, and they have no idea what they've set themselves up for by, um, accident.”

“No child happens by accident,” Ben reminded her. “God's got a plan for Lena's baby, just like he did for your Millie.”

“You're right,” Nora replied with a grateful smile. “Don't let on, but at the surprise shower I'm having for Miriam, we'll be making diapers and baby things for Lena, too. You two have given them rooms and a chance to succeed. Now the rest of us need to step up.”

“The harder part will be gettin' Josiah to accept what we want to give him,” Ben pointed out. “I'd best see where he wants to put those cookers. See ya.”

Ben jogged down the snow-packed road, waving a hand above his head. He was pleased to see a young woman on the wagon seat beside Josiah. It was too bad the kid had shown up without returning Lena's call because she'd been on pins and needles ever since she'd called him.

That's the way some fellas behave until the right woman teaches them a better way.
Ben laughed—at himself, mostly, for being much like Josiah at one time.

“Josiah! It's
gut
to see you and all this gear,” Ben called out as he caught up to the wagon. “And I'm not includin'
you
as part of the gear, Savilla. I'm real happy to meet ya.”

When the young woman with the coal black hair and snapping eyes smiled, Ben knew the local bachelors would be glad she'd come, as well. “After what Josiah's told me about you and your wife, I can't wait to cater this wedding, Ben,” she said as he helped her to the ground. “Our food's not fancy, but folks scrape our pans clean when we cook at community events.”

“I'm gettin' hungry just thinkin' about it.” Ben focused on Josiah then, and on his wagonload of equipment. “What sort of a place do ya need for your cookers?”

“Some of them use propane and I burn charcoal and wood chips in the others,” Josiah replied. “In the winter they have to be out of the wind or it's impossible to maintain the temperature for cooking whole hogs.”

“We brought our steam table, too,” Savilla said. “I wasn't sure what you might already have for serving the food.”

“It'll be
gut
to have another one besides Miriam's.” Ben pointed to a long building that sat across a field behind his smithy. “Nora and Luke are havin' their dinner in the Brennemans' cabinetry shop because it holds more folks than anyplace else for weddings and funerals and such.”

“We'll need to speak with Nora about the menu and get our food ordered,” Savilla said. She turned slowly, taking in the surrounding houses and Bishop Tom's Holsteins, as well as Miriam's orchard and the sheep at the Kanagy place. “What a homey town this is. And the buildings are in better condition than several we saw between here and Iowa.”

Ben smiled at her observation. “We take pride in our home places, and in our new businesses, too. Plain communities where folks depend mostly on farmin' are strugglin' these days.”

“And some Plain folks—like us—aren't cut out to be crop farmers.” Savilla looked at him with sparkling coffee-brown eyes. “How's Lena? I'm grateful to you and your wife for giving her and Josiah a place to stay.”

“Last I saw of them, she and my Miriam were cro-chetin' baby things,” Ben said, gesturing toward his home across the road. “We've got room for you, as well, Savilla. Let's head over there and get out of this cold wind. Miriam and Lena will be happy to see the two of ya.”

As they crossed the county blacktop, Ben felt much better about the possibility of a supper shift in the Sweet Seasons. Savilla Witmer impressed him as an astute young woman who probably kept the books for their catering business—and kept her brother focused on his cooking. He also sensed that Josiah's attitude had improved since he'd left on Saturday night. If they could take over in the café's kitchen, maybe Miriam would finally be willing to stay at home....

“It would be a
gut
idea to either call Hiram Knepp or drop him a line to tell him you're not gonna cook in Higher Ground—at least not for a while,” Ben added, to leave Josiah's options open. “If he gets word you're caterin' the wedding next week—and then if ya decide to stay on—he'll be mighty perturbed.”

“I suspect Mr. Knepp will be unhappy anyway, considering that Josiah had agreed to be in Higher Ground by now,” Savilla remarked with a rise of her eyebrow. “If you don't
tell
him you've changed your mind, Josiah, you've gone back on your word and lied to him.”