Beth Ann wasn’t the only one wiping tears from her eyes a week later as Glen Landis handed Mr. O’Hearn a Bible inscribed with the names of the volunteers who’d helped raise the house. Harry O’Hearn and his wife, Juliet, had pitched in, helping to build homes for others while they’d lived with relatives in a house as cramped as her little cabin. Not once had they shown any impatience when others, whose need was greater, got a new house.
More than a year after Hurricane Kevin had flooded Evergreen Corners, they were the ones now being welcomed home. As Beth Ann looked at the house, she thought about the people who’d helped build it. Roofers had battled rain and wind and snow to get the shingles in place. Painters had despaired of getting their job done as storm followed storm. Inside, the doorknobs matched, thanks to Robert’s efforts to make sure everything was as it was supposed to be.
One more house needed to be finished, and from the outside, it looked done. However, there remained more than a month’s work inside. In fact, she guessed the volunteers would be scrambling to finish the last details as the February 1 deadline drew near. Many were heading home to enjoy Christmas with family and would return after the beginning of the New Year.
She wasn’t sure what would happen once the final house was handed over to its owners. Robert might leave Evergreen Corners. She’d stay as long as the children were in her care. After that, she had no more idea what she’d do than when she’d arrived in the small town. That hadn’t changed.
Everything else had. She’d fallen in love, four times over, with Robert and the children. They’d become an odd sort of family who didn’t live under the same roof but cared about one another. Each time she sat with the children at the table Robert had made, it felt as if their circle was complete.
It was an illusion.
Glen’s voice freed her from her sad musings. “Let us close with a verse from Deuteronomy 28. The sixth verse. ‘You will be blessed when you come in and blessed when you go out.’” He smiled at the O’Hearns and at the crowd gathered in front of the house. “Each time you open the door to your home, let the blessings of the Lord be with you and those you welcome.”
Applause broke out, and someone started to sing the doxology, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow...” Others joined in with the chorus, which they repeated twice. As the last voice faded away, hugs were exchanged.
“A lovely ceremony,” Robert said, standing between her and Isaac on what, in the spring, would become the house’s front lawn.
“It never grows old,” Beth Ann replied. “So often when we do gut for others, our efforts are small, quiet triumphs for God. Not in Evergreen Corners.”
“We’ve been blessed by becoming a blessing for others,” said Isaac.
She understood why her Amish friends hoped the lot would fall upon Isaac Kauffman as their first ordained minister. His faith was as much a part of him as his heartbeat, and he rejoiced in each example of God’s grace in his life.
Rachel and Abby came to stand with her as the men went to answer a question Glen asked them on behalf of the new homeowners. Rachel was dabbing a tissue at her eyes, which were filled with happy tears.
“Today,” Abby said, “makes the hard work worth it.”
“Everyone will forget the scraped knuckles and aching muscles and the days when nothing went right.” Rachel chuckled. “Giving birth to a house might be like giving birth to a kind. The struggle is forgotten when joy arrives.”
Beth Ann smiled. “Falling in love with their babies happens quickly.”
“Too bad it isn’t as easy to know when the right man comes alone, ain’t so?” asked Rachel. “It took me long enough to see what was right in front of my eyes. I never guessed when I came here I’d meet someone like Isaac.” She glanced at the man everyone knew would be her future husband. “He has plans for the years ahead of us. Not just for our family, but for everyone in our growing community.”
“Enough to keep us busy!” Abby laughed. “I need to get back to make sure everything’s on track for tonight’s meal.”
“I need to go, too.” Beth Ann thought about telling Robert she was leaving, but he was deep in conversation with Isaac and Glen.
“Where are you off to, Beth Ann?” Rachel asked. “I thought Abby was the busiest woman in Evergreen Corners, but—”
“You both make me tired watching all you do,” Abby interrupted with a laugh. “Don’t forget, Beth Ann, that you’ve got a whole community to help you with the Henderson kinder.”
“Everyone has already been so helpful,” she said. “The clothing for the children and the bags of groceries on the stairs have been wonderful. I don’t know how you sneak them up the stairs without us noticing.”
The two women exchanged a puzzled glance.
Abby said, “We haven’t sent groceries to you. Meals, ja, but not groceries.”
Beth Ann looked at Rachel, who shook her head. “I can’t take credit for something I didn’t do.”
“So if you didn’t send groceries for us, who did?”
“Maybe,” Rachel said, “Pastor Hershey and his congregation or one of the other churches in town.”
“I’ve already asked him. Back when the first deliveries came. He told me it wasn’t the Mennonite congregation. It might be one of the other churches, but which one? There hasn’t been a single note in any of the bags, but it has to be someone who knows the children because the bags contain their favorite foods.”
“Beth Ann, you don’t have to have an answer for everything,” Rachel said. “Sometimes, we just need to say a prayer to thank our unknown benefactors.”
Realizing Robert’s sister was correct, Beth Ann nodded. She must accept the blessings and stop questioning them. Yet, curiosity teased her.
She told her friends she’d see them later. She needed to do a couple of loads of laundry and figure out what to serve for supper. The pantry shelves were quite full, though no new groceries had been left since before Thanksgiving. Adding going to the grocery store to her long chores list was going to be necessary by week’s end.
“Leaving already?” asked Robert as he caught up with her by the green.
She hadn’t realized he was following her. “I want to get things done before the children get home.”
“How’s it going with Dougie and Crystal at the Millers’ house?”
“They seem to like studying with Kevin and Rosina, because they’re close to the same age. I thought about having Tommy join them, but he loves his new friends at the church.”
“Michael said they’ve fit right in with his kids, and they’re polite and respectful and working hard.” He raised his brows. “I never thought I’d hear anyone describe Dougie as either polite or respectful.”
“He’s doing better with me, too.”
“He seems to like challenging me at every turn.”
She looked up at him as they crossed the green. “Robert, you’ve usurped him as head of his family. He was the man of the house, making sure his brother and sister were fed and safe, until we came along. You and I are making the decisions, and his nose is out of joint.”
“I never thought about that.”
“Children are like sponges. They soak up everything around themselves. As they grow, they’ve got to learn what aspects of things they’ve experienced they want to keep.”
“So as adults, we’re supposed to have the perspective to know what’s gut for us and what isn’t?”
“That’s how it should work.” She smiled. “It’s bizarre when I hear my grandmother’s words coming out of my mouth while I’m dealing with the kids. What a laugh she would get out of hearing me saying things like ‘Stop making such a face before it freezes that way.’”
When he twisted his face into a comical expression, she laughed. He joined in as he led the way up the apartment steps.
She reached for the keys in her purse, and he grew serious as he patted the pockets in his coat and his trousers.
“What’s wrong, Robert?”
“I think I’ve misplaced my keys.” He checked his right trouser pocket again.
“When did you last see them?”
He shrugged. “I was up early to shovel your stairs, and—”
“Robert!” The mayor stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you missing your keys?”
He descended, Beth Ann following close on his heels.
“Ja,” he said. “Where did you find them?”
“On the ground by my porch steps.”
“They must have fallen out of my pocket when I was shoveling your sidewalk.” He took them. “Danki.”
“Thank you for clearing the walk.” She smiled at them. “I want you to know I may have found funding to at least start the covered bridge’s repair. No guarantees, but I’m looking into it.”
His broad smile was all the answer he needed to give.
As the two discussed possible funding, Beth Ann listened and prayed God would keep Robert in Evergreen Corners.
Robert stood to one side of the party at the community center. Many of the plain volunteers had finished eating. Some would leave in the morning to start their journeys home. For the ones who’d come the farthest, the trip could take three days or more. Those who lived in Evergreen Corners lingered over kaffi and dessert.
He heard whispers beneath the conversation. Michael had told him earlier that there’d been another theft at the remaining project house. A whole box of tools, not a large box, but one holding valuable power tools, was missing. A slider to the dining room had been forced open, and it was assumed someone reached in and grabbed the first thing they could put their hands on.
Nobody wanted to be talking about a thief in the days leading up to Christmas, but the authorities had been alerted. The local and county police agreed to drive past the project house, but Robert doubted they’d catch the thief, who’d been cautious so far.
When a surge of cold air announced the door opening, he looked across the room to see Beth Ann had arrived with the Henderson kinder. Dougie and Crystal had been at youth choir practice at the same church where Tommy went to day care. He took a single step toward them, but paused as Tommy tossed aside his coat before running to him, his gait more even with his new lime-green brace that peeked out above his boots.
“See? I got penders!” The little boy hooked his thumbs under his black suspenders and pulled them before letting them snap. “Like you, Robert.”
“Suspenders,” corrected his sister. “They’re called suspenders.”
Tommy refused to have his excitement muted. “Whatever they’re called, I’ve got them, too.” Without a pause, he turned to a table of volunteers and announced, “Look! I got penders! I mean, sub-penders.”
As the little boy was congratulated, Robert watched Beth Ann walk toward him. His heart raced and his breath slowed until he wasn’t sure he was pulling in air. She was so beautiful, so caring, and she seemed to have found her place in the world. At least for now. Was there anywhere for him in it?
He knew the answer. No, there wasn’t.
Trying to keep his pain from showing on his face, he smiled when Beth Ann stopped beside him. “Those are quite the suspenders.”
“I found them at Mrs. Weiskopf’s store on a dusty shelf.” She grinned at the little boy, who seemed determined to show off his suspenders to each person in the community center. “Did you know she’s thinking of selling the store?”
“No,” he said at the same time someone else asked, “Really?”
Beth Ann nodded as Dougie joined them after circling the room to see who was there. “She’s mentioned to me the last two times I was in there she’s thinking of moving to Florida to live with her sister.”
Abby stuck her head around the kitchen door. “She’s been saying that since I got here a year ago.”
Going to Abby, Crystal asked, “When do we eat? I’m hungry.”
“Me, too.” Tommy, as always, refused to be left out of any conversation.
“Our turn is coming,” Beth Ann said with a smile. “The kitchen has had to feed a lot of people tonight.”
Robert nodded. “As soon as a table is cleared, it’ll be your turn.” Squatting so he could look the kids in the eyes, he said, “I’d guess Abby might be willing to make you a church spread sandwich while you wait.”
“Church spread?” Dougie regarded him with skepticism. “What’s that?”
“Peanut butter and marshmallow.”
“Let’s ask Abby,” Tommy said, tugging on his brother’s sleeve.
“Yes,” Crystal seconded. “Maybe we can help.”
Robert watched as they scurried into the kitchen, calling to Abby. “You’re going to owe Abby a big favor.”
“I owe everyone in town for so many blessings I’ve lost count,” Beth Ann replied. “I’ve been told trying to count those blessings is something I shouldn’t do. I should be grateful for others’ kindness and God’s grace.”
“Shouldn’t we all?”
When he saw how her eyes glowed with happiness, he sent up a grateful prayer of his own along with a plea God would find him a way to stay in Evergreen Corners with Beth Ann. Was it possible? He had no idea, but he was going to try his best.
The youth choir concert was set for Friday, one week before Christmas Eve on a windy, cold evening. In the past, the choir had performed in the high school’s gym, but the space hadn’t been rebuilt yet, so the program was being held in what everyone called the “little gym” of the elementary school. It was a smaller space used by kindergartners and first graders when the weather was too inclement for them to go outside after lunch. Unlike the high school’s gym, it had concrete floors and a bank of windows along the outer wall. Two sets of double doors opened from the hallway and at the opposite end, two other doors led outside. A simple wooden seat ran beneath the windows from one exterior door to the other.
At both ends, basketball hoops had been pulled up to the ceiling from their normal spot six feet above the floor, the low height making it simpler for the youngest students to sink balls into the baskets. Wooden folding chairs had been arranged in neat rows. An upright piano sat to the left of two rows of risers, and a music stand waited in front.
Beth Ann walked with Tommy into the little gym. The wall behind the risers had been covered with long sheets of paper decorated with what she guessed was a Nativity scene drawn in crayon. The camels resembled the cows, and the sheep looked like either dachshunds or earthbound clouds, because some had no legs. The baby in the manger was as big as the depictions of Joseph and Mary while the angel appeared to be in danger of slipping down the slanted roof of the stable. It was obvious the children had put in a lot of time, and it’d been a labor of love. She glanced down at the folded program she’d been given and saw Crystal’s name among the other young artists listed.
“There he is!” Tommy announced so loudly heads turned. He hurried to where Robert sat.
She smiled. His gait was much better. It was uneven, as her own was, but with the brace helping correct his slap step, he didn’t look as if he might tip over on every other step.
Her smile broadened when Robert picked up his hat from two seats beside him. He and Tommy were already chatting about the suspenders the little boy had insisted on wearing.
Looking past the boy, Robert greeted her with a smile that sent tickles of happiness along her. He shifted so Tommy would sit on her right side, and Robert had the chair on her left.
“Thank you for coming,” she murmured as the door from the hall opened and the pianist came in to polite clapping.
“I wouldn’t miss watching this with you for the world,” he replied.
The tickles became stronger ripples, and she was glad she was prevented from answering by the youth choir following their director into the gym. While the children climbed onto the risers and parents raised their cell phones to begin recording, Beth Ann picked out Dougie in the middle row among the boys. Crystal was on the left-hand side with the other smallest girls. Both wore the most serious expressions she’d ever seen on their faces.
The youth choir began to sing “The First Noel.” When they did the next verse in harmony, she heard gasps of appreciation. The oldest child couldn’t be more than twelve, and the youngest Crystal’s age, and their youthful voices wove around the melody in a lush sound that filled the gym.
When they finished, there was a moment of silence. Applause burst out from appreciative family, friends and neighbors before the choir started its next song. Each number was as amazing as the first while the songs told the glorious story of the Savior’s birth.
Beth Ann’s eyes widened when Dougie edged past the boy in front of him and stepped forward. He looked around the crowd, and his gaze met hers. When she saw fear in his eyes, she offered a bolstering smile, though she wondered what was happening. He gave her one in return.
The music director bent and murmured something to him, too low for anyone else to hear. Dougie nodded and gulped hard, but he straightened his shoulders as she faced the choir and raised her hands. She nodded to the pianist, who began playing the introduction to “O Holy Night.”
Dougie alone began to sing, and goose bumps rose on Beth Ann’s arm. His voice was pure and sweet, sending notes wafting through the gym. The words of awe and glory spun out of the boy who’d been abandoned by his mother. The other children joined in the chorus. Their treble voices lilted around his and invited the wind from beyond the gym to complement the music in a deep, rumbling undertone.
A hand settled over hers on her lap, and she tore her gaze from the choir to look at Robert. Were those tears in his eyes like the ones filling her throat while they listened to the boy—their boy—sing beautifully? Tommy leaned his head against her and wrapped his short arms around hers.
She knew, without question, this was what she wanted. A life with a family who loved one another. Though she wasn’t sure how Robert felt about her or the children, she knew each of them was in her heart.
The last note died away, and thunderous applause and cheers erupted through the gym. One person, then others rose as the music director gestured toward Dougie, who took a solemn bow before joining the other children. Beth Ann stood, too, and peered around a tall woman in front of her until she caught the boy’s eyes. She raised her hands over her head, so he could see her clapping.
The choir did a rousing version of “Joy to the World” as their encore and took a bow along with their director and the pianist before breaking ranks to join their families. Beth Ann held out her arms and swept Dougie and Crystal to her.
Dougie tried to wriggle away. His face, which had glowed when he was singing, had regained its sullen expression. “Don’t make a big deal of it, okay?”
Seeing her shock mirrored in Robert’s eyes, Beth Ann said, “Dougie, it’s okay to admit how important the choir is to you.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not.”
She put a hand on his shoulder before he could move away from her. “Why not?”
“You know!”
“I don’t.”
“You should. You loved being a midwife, but that was taken away from you. You loved your family, and that was taken away from you, too.”
She sat on a chair at the end of one row and drew him down next to her. Behind him, his siblings and Robert formed a protective half circle. “So you believe if we admit how much we love something, it’ll be taken away from us.”
“Yeah. That’s the way life is.”
Wishing she could reach inside him and tear out the cancerous cynicism, she said, “No, it’s not.”
“It is!” He stamped his foot. “Everything I’ve ever loved has gone away. My dad, my mom...everything.”
She cupped his face in her hands and waited in silence until his eyes met hers. Not letting him look away, she whispered, “I’m sorry, Dougie, about what you’ve lost, but you’ve got Crystal and Tommy. You’ve got me. You’ve got Robert. You’ve got the Millers and others who care for you.”
“I wish my mom could have heard me tonight.” His lips trembled.
“I wish she could have, too.” She gave him a sudden smile. “I saw other parents were filming the concert. I’m sure one of them would be glad to share a copy so you can show it to your mother.”
“When? We can’t see her in rehab.”
“I don’t know when, but why don’t you ask one of your friends in the choir for a copy you can show her as soon as possible?”
Crystal piped up, “I’ll do that, Dougie.” She went to speak to a woman who was congratulating her daughter on the successful concert.
The woman listened to Crystal, straightened and smiled. She wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to Crystal, who brought it to Beth Ann. It was the woman’s name and her phone number.
“Thank you,” Beth Ann said. “Merry Christmas.”
The woman nodded before leaving with her husband and four children.
Turning to Dougie, Beth Ann said, “See? Your mother is going to have a chance to hear you sing and see Crystal’s beautiful work.” She gripped the boy by the elbows. “As soon as possible, we’ll make sure she sees it.”
Robert put his hand on Dougie’s shoulder. “It’s not the Amish way to say we’re proud of someone, but there’s nothing in our Ordnung that says we can’t go to the diner for a burger and fries to celebrate the next-to-last week of Advent.”
The kinder cheered at his words.
“This is the best day ever,” Crystal said as she flung her arms around his waist. “Right, Dougie?”
“It’s not bad,” her brother agreed.
When everyone else laughed, he joined in. Beth Ann stood, glad the storm had passed again. She planned to call their social worker on Monday and find out when it would be possible for the children to visit their mother. It might be the best Christmas gift she could give them.
If it was possible.