The last thing Carolyn expected was for Michael to stop at the trailer at dawn on Thanksgiving morning. The children were in her bedroom watching Tippy roll over and over in the dryer. Though she’d been anxious the toy would fall apart when she washed it, the stuffed dog had come through its bath looking almost as it had before. Kevin had discovered one of its eyes was missing, and Carolyn had promised to sew on a new one as soon as they could buy a button.
“Do Mennonites have Christmas trees?” Michael asked as he poked his head past the door.
She didn’t glance up from the German chocolate cake she was frosting. It felt wonderful to be baking again. She’d finally mastered the quirks of the trailer’s oven and now was able to make sponge cakes and bundt cakes and coffeecakes. She’d forgotten how much she missed putting gooey dough into an oven and a short time later pulling out aromatic, spongy cake layers. Too much else had been on her mind, but mixing the ingredients and enjoying the results had kept her focused instead of anxious as it had ever since...
Since she’d left Indiana with the children.
Propelling that thought into the back of her mind, she was able to smile as she motioned for Michael to come in. His kindness during the past month was one of the reasons she felt a contentment she’d thought she’d never experience again. She had spent half the night awake as she sought the right words to thank him for bringing Tippy back to Kevin. Everything she thought of seemed too vapid to convey the depths of her appreciation.
“Christmas trees?” she asked. “It’s almost a month before we celebrate Christmas. Why are you asking?”
“But do you Mennonites have Christmas trees?” He came in and closed the door.
The small trailer seemed to shrink more as his broad shoulders and vital personality filled the space. She gave herself a moment to savor the sight of his strong features. A quiver ran from her heart right to the tips of her toes as she recalled his hand holding hers the previous night. Yes, she’d grabbed his first when she dragged him into the main room, but he hadn’t released her fingers until she had to return to work on the feast for this afternoon.
Despite her heart urging her to believe he was the man he appeared to be, she had to select her words with care. It was the same walk across a tightrope she’d been doing for four years. She wouldn’t lie, but she had to avoid spilling the truth that could lead to a disaster greater than the flood.
“Some Mennonite families have trees,” she replied, applying more coconut-pecan icing to the cake. “Some don’t. It depends on how conservative a family’s beliefs are or what their traditions are. Sometimes the differences range from family to family rather than from district to district as with you Amish.”
He pulled off his black felt hat and brushed his too-long hair back from his eyes. The man needed a haircut. Should she offer? That was the job of an Amish woman. Maybe she should suggest to Abby that it was time for the plain men to have their hair trimmed.
“I guess I should have asked if your family has a Christmas tree,” he said.
“We do.”
She had relented and gotten Kevin and Rose Anne a tree their first year in Evergreen Corners. In part, it’d been so their house didn’t stand out as the one without a tree. But the main reason she had given in was that her sister had put up a small tree every year because she’d lived an Englisch life, and Kevin had faint memories of those. Decorating the tree with popcorn strings and handmade ornaments and not putting on lights had eased Carolyn’s regret about another sign of how far she’d moved from the life she’d known.
The life she’d always expected to live.
The life you could have again if you told Michael the truth and he became part of the family.
She silenced the thought. Going to live in an Amish community could give Leland the lead he needed to find them.
“Why are you asking?” she asked.
He grinned, and she looked at the cake before she couldn’t resist his smile and grabbed his hand again. This time to pull it around her waist as she stepped into his arms.
“Englischers seem to have a tradition,” he explained, “of putting a Christmas tree on top of any building project in progress at this time of year.”
“On the roof?”
“Ja.”
“So you’re going to put a Christmas tree on top of the brand-new shingles on my roof?”
He smiled and leaned a shoulder against the upper cabinets. As before, she was astonished by how little space there was between his shoulders and the cupboards on either side of the tiny kitchen. “I had the same thought, Carolyn. I was told, in this case, the trees would be put in front of the houses, so they could be seen from the road.” His smile faded. “The other two houses belong to Englischers, and they’re thrilled with the idea. I wanted to check to make sure you’re okay with it, too.”
“The children will be excited about it.” She hedged, hoping it was enough of an answer.
It wasn’t, because he asked, “How do you feel about it?”
“I’m grateful for what you are doing for us. I wouldn’t care if you wanted to put a dancing elephant in front of the house.” She wagged a finger. “But no elephant on the roof.”
He caught her finger in his broad hand, then ran his finger along hers, catching the frosting on his rougher skin. Popping the frosting into his mouth, he gave her a slow, enticing smile. “Delicious.”
The familiar frisson rippled through her center, but she laughed to break the invisible connection between them. “You sound like the kids when they plead to lick the spoon.”
“Some things a guy shouldn’t grow too old to try. Baseball, horseshoes and beguiling frosting or raw cookie dough from a skilled baker.”
She scooped out a generous spoonful of the icing that was as rich as fudge and offered it to him. “Here you go.”
“Me, too?” asked Rose Anne from behind her as she and Kevin rushed from the bedroom. “Can I have some?”
“Can I have lots?” chimed in her brother.
As she handed each child a small taste of the frosting, Rose Anne asked, “Sit with us at supper, Michael, okay?”
“That’s the best invitation I’ve had all day,” he replied. “As long as it’s okay with your mamm.”
“Of course it is.” Carolyn was glad her voice didn’t convey the excitement going off in her like a fireworks show finale. Michael would have Thanksgiving with them.
Like a real family.
Oh, how she wished that was possible, but no matter how much her heart begged her to give it to Michael, she must keep the children safe.
She was relieved she didn’t have to say more before Michael headed out and the children returned to the bedroom to watch Tippy’s wild journey around the dryer. When she was alone again in the kitchen, she took a deep breath, wondering when she’d last drawn a steady one. Not since she’d heard Michael’s voice as he came into the trailer.
Her fingers tightened around the spoon until the wood creaked. Loosening her grip, she drew in another slow breath. All she had to do was keep her heart under control until Michael returned to his brother’s farm.
Opening the door to the community center, Michael smiled. The place was bustling as church members and other villagers, including the mayor and most of her council, joined the volunteers for a Thanksgiving meal. It was made up of dishes from the many different groups in the room. Amish noodles and chow-chow were set on the table beside Mennonite dishes that ranged from brimming casseroles topped with crispy browned cheese to a pear and walnut salad drizzled with maple syrup. Homemade breads from white to pumpernickel were displayed with sweet rolls in baskets along the long tables set in a giant U in the center of the room. Potatoes and yams and green beans had been placed in the centers of the tables while butternut soup had been ladled into bowls on top of each plate.
He looked forward to sampling, but most of all he wanted a piece of the German chocolate cake Carolyn had been frosting a few hours ago. Its aroma had been astounding, and the frosting the best he’d ever tasted. He wanted to try both together. However, first there was the meal to consider.
“Nobody’s going to go away hungry,” Benjamin said as he struggled to get his coat off so he could toss it atop the others piled on chairs by the front door.
Michael almost offered his help, but knew his friend would turn him down. Benjamin was determined to be able to return to doing everything he could before the accident...even if his mulishness injured his healing ribs more.
Shouts came for everyone to take a seat. Michael hurried to where Kevin and Rose Anne sat with Jenna’s daughter, Taylor. Streaks of red on the festive tablecloth announced little fingers had already been in the cranberry sauce.
Cheers broke out just as Michael sat, leaving one empty chair between himself and Kevin. Benjamin gave him a grin, then chose the seat on Michael’s other side. The cheers became applause as the stars of the day arrived in the common room. Not the six women who’d been working in the kitchen, but the turkeys they carried on large platters. Abby led the way, holding up a perfectly cooked bird.
“That one’s as big as me,” Rose Anne said loudly.
Her words brought more cheers as well as convivial laughter.
“Then it should go right by you.” Jenna put the turkey she’d brought beside where Rose Anne and Taylor sat.
After placing the turkey she’d brought out in front of Pastor Hershey, Carolyn hurried to the empty chair between Kevin and Michael. She smiled at him, but looked down the table as the Mennonite minister rose.
The room hushed while Pastor Hershey asked each person to thank God for His blessings in his or her own way. Soft prayers flowed through the room like a breeze on a perfect summer day, though the Amish were silent. When the minister said, “Amen,” every head rose and silverware clicked as they began to enjoy the soup.
Jenna smiled along the table. “When I was growing up, we’d say what we were thankful for. Michael, why don’t you start?”
He was surprised she didn’t ask Benjamin first, but said, “I’ve got many reasons to be thankful this Thanksgiving. My brother is happily married and has the farm he’s wanted since we were kids. I’m getting ready to do the work I love in what will be three wunderbaar homes. And I’m blessed with many new friends.”
He watched Carolyn’s face while he spoke. Did she have any idea she was what he was most thankful for this year?
Kevin was next. “I’m thankful Michael brought Tippy home,” the boy announced, and smiles along the table broadened.
Carolyn spoke of her gratitude for the volunteers who’d come to Evergreen Corners. “And, as Michael said, you’ve become our friends.”
Everyone’s smiles widened more when Rose Anne announced she was grateful for the pies waiting to be served for dessert.
“Which is your favorite?” Benjamin asked.
“Pun-kin.” Rose Anne giggled as she added, “I’m going to have a big piece with whip-it cream on it.”
“Whippet?” asked Michael as he leaned toward Carolyn. “I hope you aren’t putting small greyhounds on top of the pies.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.” She spooned some mashed potatoes onto Rose Anne’s plate before stretching to do the same for Kevin. She gave him another half spoonful when he offered her a mournful glance. “I figured I’d use regular whipped cream.”
“Sounds delicious.”
“But no dessert for anyone who doesn’t finish their supper,” she said as she aimed the same unrelenting frown at her daughter and her son and then on to him.
That she included him brought peals of laughter from her children and Jenna’s daughter. As others spoke of why they were blessed, Michael let himself relish the merriment and the gratitude. Now was the time for feasting and laughing and sharing each other’s company.
There was time enough later to speak to her about what he’d decided as he walked by the brook.
Carolyn rearranged the trailer’s small refrigerator for the third time and managed to squeeze in the two servings of green bean casserole Jenna had insisted she bring home with her. Straightening, she sighed. It had been a good day, but a long one. She was glad they could live on leftovers for the next few meals. She picked up her cup of tea and carried it to the table where Michael sat nursing the decaf coffee he’d made while she got the children into bed.
Checking both children, she saw they were asleep. She sighed again, this time with happiness, at the sight of Kevin lying with his cheek on Tippy.
“Can I get your opinion about something important?” Michael asked when she put her cup on the table.
“Of course.”
She slid into the banquette across from him. Her joy tempered when she noticed his fingers tapping the table. What was he nervous about? “Do I need to make some decision about the house?”
“No, nothing about the house or the kinder or you.” He paused, and his gaze slid away from hers as if he were ashamed of what he was about to say.
She couldn’t imagine what it might be. He was a good man, the best she’d ever met. Putting a gentle hand on his arm, she said, “Tell me.”
“I’m not sure I want to be baptized Amish.”
She was struck speechless by his words. Not be baptized Amish? Did he have any idea of what he would lose if he decided not to become a part of the Leit in Harmony Creek Hollow? Images of her past, spending time with neighbors and friends who offered her an escape from the cruel words in her house, zoomed out of her memories. The love and acceptance of her plain community had been the bulwark God had offered her against the secrets hidden behind the Hilty family’s walls. She should tell Michael how much she missed those connections and that community.
But she couldn’t.
She bit her lower lip and stared at her clenched fingers laced together on the table. When she’d embarked on the path she was sure God had set out for her, she’d never imagined she’d come to such an impossible crossroads. She ached to trust Michael, but feared sharing her secret with anyone risked the truth leaking out to the whole world.
Including Leland.
She ached to speak from the heart, but pushed aside her own pain as she thought of what she might call down upon the children.
“It must be a big decision.” She loathed herself as soon as the platitude came out of her mouth. Michael was hurting as he sought the path God had created for him. Instead of comforting him, she was offering him a useless cliché.
“A huge one.” He sighed.
“Are you unhappy with your Amish community?” If she kept him talking, she might find a roundabout way to help him, a way that didn’t endanger the children.
“No.” He folded his hands in front of him. “My twin brother and his family are part of it. So are James and Benjamin. Our neighbors made us feel welcome from the day we arrived in Harmony Creek Hollow.”
“It sounds like a lovely place.”
“It is.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “In fact, Evergreen Corners reminds me a lot of it. You may not be Amish, but the people here are a community that cares for one another. In the month since the flood, nobody has backed away from offering to help.”
“But if you’re happy there, is it because you question your faith?”
“Who hasn’t questioned their faith at one time or another? That’s part of the weakness of being human. I’m thankful God is patient enough to keep loving me as a kind who has much to learn and accept and rejoice in.”
“Then why...?” She wasn’t sure what else to ask.
“Once I’m baptized, I’ll be expected to find an Amish girl to marry, so we can raise a family in our faith traditions. Marrying someone outside our faith would mean being put under the bann.”
She stared at him, her mouth agape. He couldn’t be thinking of putting off being baptized because of any feelings he had for her, could he? Her heart sank. If he was making his choice because of her, he was making it without knowing the truth. How could she let him make such a life-altering decision while she withheld information from him?
But she couldn’t tell him the truth.
Nothing had changed, she realized. It wouldn’t until Rose Anne and Kevin were old enough to understand why she’d taken them from their home in Indiana and brought them to Vermont.
Wanting to hear him say he loved her as she loved him, she knew she must set aside that dream as she had others. She couldn’t let him give up the life he knew and the family he loved based on what he believed she was.
But she couldn’t tell him the truth.
“If you want my advice, Michael, don’t make your decision now,” she said, hoping to calm her roiling stomach. “At least, not while you’re in Evergreen Corners.”
His breath sifted past his clenched teeth, and she got the feeling she’d missed something. Something he hadn’t said, but had wanted her to know.
“Take the time,” she urged him, “to pray on it and see what guidance God offers you. He knows what you should do, but He may not let you know until His time is right.”
“Rather than my own timetable, you mean?”
She nodded, biting back her own answer. If she said ja now, he might think she was making fun of his way of talking. She didn’t want him to think that, and she couldn’t explain how tough it was to avoid slipping into Deitsch when they spoke of their faith.
“That’s gut advice.” He gave her a rigid smile, then set himself on his feet. “Danki for listening, Carolyn. I appreciate the perspective of someone who’s not Amish. You’re right. This is between me and God and will be resolved at the time He deems right.”
Her heart didn’t know whether to jump in celebration that he was going to make his decision through prayer and patience or whether it should tumble in despair that he considered her an outsider not involved in his life.
And why shouldn’t he? demanded the logical part of her brain. He doesn’t know you were raised Amish.
“I know you’ll make the best decision,” she said, again falling back on the trite.
“If I heed God’s guidance, I will.” He cupped her cheek.
She yearned to lean her head into his strong, work-hardened palm and tell him how she longed for his arms around her again, how she wanted to share the secrets stalking her, how she wished she could tell him about her heart dancing with joy whenever she saw him or heard his voice. She didn’t say anything.
“Gut nacht,” he said as he pulled on his coat and reached for his hat, which he’d left by the sink.
“Good night,” she whispered, but he was already gone.
She went to the door and looked out the small window. She watched him fade into the darkness. She stood there for uncounted minutes, turning only when she heard Rose Anne give a half sob. Going to check her niece, she ignored the tears running down her own face as she wondered if, somewhere, Leland Reber was laughing at how he’d ruined her life, too.