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Jemima watched from the window of her father’s workshop as the lights of Brad’s truck faded down the road. Then she turned and gathered up all the evidence that they’d been there: the glittering bag, the lollypops, the jewelry-box of chocolate and the shiny wrappers.
She watched herself turn down the lantern, walk through the smithy and out into the snow. She saw herself turn and lock the door, walk between the big fir trees and across the yard to the house.
But it was all like a slow motion dream, like the big flakes of snow drifting down from the dark sky. She hardly even felt the cold.
Because Brad wanted to learn about being Amish.
She couldn’t believe it!
For the first time, she felt a tiny spark of hope. If – by some miracle of God – Brad were to convert, then...
She closed her eyes. No, she couldn’t let herself picture it. It would hurt too much to hope, and then have that hope dashed.
But Brad wanted to learn about being Amish.
She glided through the doorway and up the stairs like a sleepwalker. She entered her bedroom, dropped the quilts on the floor, and hid Brad’s gifts away safe in the little nook behind the wall.
She came out of her cap and her dress and pulled on her nightgown. She crawled into bed and watched the big flakes of snow spiral past her window.
It was rare for an Englischer to convert, very rare, but it had happened. Oh, what if Brad decided to become Amish, and they got married, and they found a house of their own, and— She closed her eyes and smiled, and allowed herself to live in that happy fantasy until sleep took her, and Brad kissed her again in her dreams.
The next morning dawned bright and clear and cold. The sky was a clear, brilliant blue and the countryside was several inches deep in fresh, sparkling snow. By the time the sun was well up, the entire King household had made and eaten breakfast, and had been at work for well over an hour.
But Jacob King was distracted from his work by a troubling mystery. He came back to the house in an attempt to solve it.
“Has anyone been out to my workshop?” he asked.
Jemima had been wiping down the kitchen table, and she froze mid-swipe. She was no good at lying, and Deborah wasn’t there to think of a quick excuse. She raised guilty eyes to her father’s face.
Rachel shook her head. “I haven’t been anywhere near it for the last two days,” she replied. “Jemima, were you out there?”
Jemima dropped her eyes to the table. “I-I have no reason to go out there,” she said softly. “Why do you ask, Daed?”
Jacob put one big hand to the back of his neck. “They’ve been snowed over pretty thick, but there are some kind of prints on the ground outside the shop. It looks like something was out there last night,” he replied.
“Maybe it was an animal,” Jemima ventured, but her heart was pounding.
“Maybe,” Jacob replied. “But I don’t like the idea of a stranger prowling around this house. Maybe it would be a good idea for us to get a watchdog.”
Jemima felt her mouth falling open, and quickly closed it.
“Oh, it was probably a deer or a stray, Jacob,” Rachel soothed. “Jemima’s trouble is over now. Let it go.”
Jemima made a desperate attempt to change the subject. “Yes, Daed, everything is back to normal now. The Englisch move so fast from one thing to another, they’ve forgotten all about me!
“When I give the rest of the money away, the last of it will be behind us. In fact, I was thinking – I was wondering – if you would drive me out to the bishop’s house today?”
Rachel’s eyes lit up. “Oh, what a wonderful idea!” she cried. “Did you hear that, Jacob? Jemima is ready to give away the last of the money, and to”—she turned to beam at her eldest daughter—“get back to her own life at last!”
Jacob shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mima. Not today. I have too much work piled up to drive you around the countryside. All this nonsense has put me back six months!”
Rachel’s face fell, and she looked uncharacteristically put out. “Well then, if you’re behind in your work, Jacob King,” she asked him archly, “then why are you worried about a few marks in the snow? I would think you’d be in your shop, instead of here – teasing your poor daughter!”
Jacob looked wounded. “Now Rachel—”
“I’m not upset,” Jemima interjected quickly, moving her eyes from her father to her mother. “I can wait, there’s no hurry.”
Rachel turned to her with her pretty mouth set. “Well, maybe there should be a little bit of a hurry, young lady,” she retorted. “Those poor boys of yours are wondering when on earth you’re going to give that money away. I wonder, too!
“And,” she added, rounding on Jacob, “I would think that your father, of all people, would be willing to help you when it’s something as important as your whole future – instead of hunting little snow goblins!”
Jacob crossed his arms. “I know what I saw, Rachel,” he told her. “You can come and look at them, there are clear prints!”
To Jemima’s astonishment, her mother began to giggle. “Really, Jacob,” she replied softly, and giggled again.
Her father’s face went as red as his hair, and he assumed an air of outraged dignity. He replied: “Laugh all you like, Rachel, but it’s a good thing that I’m here to notice such things. There have been strange goings on around this house!”
Jemima lowered her eyes and held her breath, but that was her father’s parting shot. He stalked out, and her mother stood silently drying dishes for a few long moments after.
Then she looked up at the ceiling, sighed, wiped her hands on her apron and followed him outside.
Jemima crept to the window, silent as a mouse, to see if they would look at the telltale tracks she’d left in the snow. She put her ear to the window, and could make out the sound of soft talking. Then there was silence.
Jemima carefully pulled the curtains back, but to her astonishment, her parents weren’t concerned with the prints in the snow at all. Her mother was in her father’s huge arms, and any hurt feelings were clearly being mended.
Jemima smiled, and let the drapes fall closed, and returned to the kitchen table, but a deep sadness settled over her as she worked. Oh, if only, one day, she and Brad could kiss like that – on the porch of their own home!
