Christmas Eve, one year later
“Are you warm enough?” Caleb looked both ways before guiding the horse and buggy onto the blacktop. He, Rebecca and Amelia were on their way home after making several Christmas Eve visits to elderly members of their church community. He’d wanted to make certain that no one was alone or in need tonight. They’d brought pies, vegetable soup and apples to give as token gifts, and perhaps most important, they’d taken time to visit at each stop.
“Ya, Dat.” Amelia’s small voice came from the back of the buggy where she was snuggled down under a quilt with Fritzy and a new addition to the family, Joy.
The half poodle, half lab puppy, a stray that Rebecca’s sister Grace had rescued and nursed back to health, had been an early Christmas gift for his daughter. When Grace and Rebecca had hatched the plan, he’d been a little skeptical, because he didn’t know how Fritzy would take to a new dog. He should have known better. Most of Rebecca’s ideas were good ones, and it was a toss-up as to whether Amelia or Fritzy was more taken with the pup.
“What about you?” Caleb asked, glancing over at his wife. “Warm enough?”
“Ya, Caleb,” she answered. “Toasty warm. And why wouldn’t I be in my new mittens and scarf?”
He’d found the scarf on a trip to the mall with some of the boys he’d taken under his wing after the incident the winter before. The scarf was long and blue, and as soft as duck down. The color was a little brighter than some might think suitable for a preacher’s wife, but the price and practicality of the gift made it impossible to pass up. And fancy scarf or not, no one could find fault with Rebecca as a role model for other young women.
“I was wrong,” he admitted. “When I thought you were too flighty.”
Rebecca didn’t answer. That was something else he valued about her. As quick as she was to stand up for herself or give an opinion, she knew when to listen and let a man say what was on his mind.
“When Clarence Troyer had to have his appendix out, you offered to keep their five children so that Margaret could stay at the hospital with him through it all,” Caleb said. “And when Susan King wanted to die at home, it was you who organized the neighborhood women so that someone was always with her and Paul, day and night.”
“It was little enough to do for them.”
Caleb slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him on the seat. Their legs pressed against one another under the lap robe, and his heart swelled with happiness that he’d found this woman to be his partner and the mother of his child. “I misjudged you, Rebecca. I thought that a devout woman had to be a serious one, but I was wrong about that, too.” He leaned nearer and kissed her forehead. “You’ve made my house a home,” he whispered hoarsely, “and I love you for it.”
“The two of us, working together as a team.” Rebecca smiled. “That’s what makes the difference. You and me and Amelia, a real family.”
“Am I a good husband?” he asked. “Do I make you happy?”
“Every day I thank God for bringing you to me.”
He chuckled and flicked the reins over the horse’s back. “I’ve wondered, but I was afraid to ask if you were disappointed in me.”
“Never. You’re strong and smart and—”
“A little stuffy,” he supplied.
She laughed. “Sometimes, but I know you’ll always do what’s right, like you did with Irwin and the others. Aren’t you pleased with them? With how they are maturing? Yours was a good plan, Caleb. To have them fill their spare time with useful deeds instead of mischief.”
“I credit you with any good I’ve done with those boys,” he said to Rebecca. “It might have been my idea, but I doubt I’d have had the courage to follow through if you hadn’t seen the value in it.”
She snuggled closer to him. “Didn’t I just say we made a good pair?” she teased. “You’re too modest by half. And if I’ve made a passable preacher’s wife, it’s because you’ve been there every step of the way, holding me up.” It wasn’t like Caleb to open his heart to her, but she didn’t need words to know that he loved her. Anyone who said that marriage was easy wasn’t being honest, but she loved Caleb more tonight than she had on the day they’d pledged their vows to each other.
It was as cold as it had been on the previous Christmas Eve when he’d asked her to be his wife, but tonight there was no snow. The stars were bright against a velvet sky, and the horse’s breaths made white puffs in the frosty air. She loved the familiar rhythm of the buggy wheels and the animal’s hooves on the road. “I was hoping for a white Christmas.”
“No snow in sight,” Caleb answered. He’d turned into their lane. “There’s something for you in the barn. Thought I’d give it to you tonight and leave Christmas morning for Amelia.”
Rebecca sat up straight. “But you’ve already given me this beautiful scarf and new mittens.”
“Snow boots for you under the bed. Fur lined, just for around the house. Wouldn’t do for church. Not plain enough for—”
“For a preacher’s wife?” she finished. They laughed together.
“Can’t have you with wet feet, can I? Delaware doesn’t get much snow, but we’re good for rain and mud in winter.”
“We are that,” she agreed. “But you shouldn’t have spent any more money on me. You’ve already hired Verna Beachy to come three days a week to help me with the housework.”
“Made sense. You’re doing more and more of my accounts for the wood-carving business. Not to mention the time you spend visiting those in need in the community. But I thought something else would come in handy.” He drove to the barn and reined in the horse by the wide double doors. “Come see what I have in here,” he said. He helped Rebecca down and then went around to open the back doors. One small daughter, one small dog and one bigger one spilled out. The dogs barked and the girl giggled.
“I didn’t tell, Dat,” Amelia said. “I kept the secret.”
“What secret?” Rebecca asked.
Caleb tied the horse to the hitching rail, took a battery lantern from the buggy and led the way into the stable. Rebecca and Amelia followed him past the empty stall, past where the cow was penned, to the last stall in the row. A sorrel mare with a white nose and a white blaze on her forehead hung her head over the railing.
“You bought a new horse?” Rebecca cried, going close enough to stroke the mare’s head. “She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”
“Daisy. And she’s not mine.” He grinned at her. “She’s—”
“Yours!” Amelia squealed. “Dat bought her for you. And she has a cart!”
“For me?” Rebecca cried. “Oh, Caleb, thank you.” She flung herself into his arms and hugged him. “I love her, but why do I need a horse and cart?”
“So you can come and go as you see fit,” he answered. “Bishop Atlee said you were busy enough to need your own transportation, and I asked Charley to keep his eyes open for a likely prospect.” He stroked the horse’s nose. “She’s six years old, traffic wise and has no bad habits so far as I can see. Merry Christmas, Rebecca.”
“Merry Christmas, Mam!” Amelia echoed.
Tears clouded Rebecca’s eyes. This man... This child... This farm and this wonderful present... How could any woman ask for more? She caught Caleb’s broad hand and squeezed it tightly. “I love you,” she declared. “I love both of you!”
Amelia beamed and snatched up a handful of hay to feed Daisy. Daintily, the mare nibbled at the timothy.
“Come to think of it, I have a gift for you, too, Caleb.” Rebecca raised a finger to her lips, and when he bent his head to hear, she whispered her secret into his ear.
A broad grin split his face, and the light from the lantern reflected in his eyes. “When?”
“Late July or early August,” she murmured. “Merry Christmas, Caleb.”
Laughing, Caleb swung Amelia up into his arms and enveloped both her and Rebecca in a big hug. And in that instant, there was no place else in the world that Rebecca would rather be.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE FIREFIGHTER’S MATCH by Allie Pleiter.