An Unexpected Joy Read online

  “I don’t think it’s going to stop snowing.” Abigail lowered a cup of tea onto the lampstand beside Edith. They had finished putting the puzzle together shortly after doing the lunch dishes, and now they planned to relax in the sitting room with a cup of tea and their knitting needles.

  “I’d be happy if it never snowed,” Edith said.

  Abigail sat in the wooden rocking chair beside Edith and gazed out the window. “Snow is so much prettier than brown grass. Besides, it wouldn’t feel like Christmas without snow.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Edith took a sip of tea, then set her cup down.

  Abigail picked up her knitting needles. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to make, but she had yarn left over from the scarves she’d made her sisters for Christmas.

  Edith unraveled some yarn from the ball. “Are you going to make a potholder or something for your hope chest?”

  “A potholder maybe, but probably nothing for mei hope chest.” As it was, she had plenty of items tucked away for a wedding day that would never come. It wasn’t like she had a suitor standing at her door, and she was getting older by the minute.

  “You sound sad. Should I have nett mentioned your hope chest?”

  Abigail studied her stitches. “I’ve kumm to terms with nett getting married.”

  “You’re such a sweet girl. I have a hard time believing you haven’t been asked home from any of the singings.”

  “I have. But . . .” Abigail had told herself so many times that she would never get married, she was convinced of that fact. So why was it so painful to admit it out loud? She bounded off the chair. “Would you like more tea?”

  “Nay, danki.”

  Abigail took her cup to the kitchen even though it still had tea in it. She stood at the sink, gazing at the big flakes of snow falling. Micah’s workshop, painted white, blurred into the scenery. Except for the smoke curling up from the stovepipe, she wouldn’t be able to make out the building at all. The thought of walking home at the end of the day made her shudder. Once she was back home, she would have to warm herself by the woodstove for hours just to thaw.

  An image appeared outside the kitchen window, and she gasped. Standing on the wraparound porch, Micah was laughing, releasing white puffs of air. He went to the door, stomped his boots, and entered the house.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

  She dropped her hand from her chest. “I didn’t see you leave your shop.”

  “I came from the barn. The weather is getting bad. I thought I should drive you home before it worsened.”

  “Oh, ah . . .” Abigail scanned the room. She had wanted to start supper and mop the floors before he ended his workday.

  He went to the kitchen table and stopped in front of the puzzle. “I see you and Mammi finished it.”

  “Jah, after lunch.” She admired the photographic image of the galloping horse.

  Edith ambled into the kitchen with her cup. “I think I will have more tea.” She eyed Micah. “Are you finished for the day already?”

  “It’s storming. I thought I’d better take Abigail home. I’m sure she doesn’t want to get snowbound with us overnight.”

  “What do you think of the puzzle?” Edith pointed to the table with her free hand.

  He nodded. “It’s nice.”

  “Did Abigail tell you she’s saving to buy a horse?”

  “Jah, she mentioned it.”

  “I have one picked out.” Abigail poured hot water into Edith’s cup. In her district only those women who had jobs—and no prospects to marry—bought a buggy horse. Winter feed was expensive, and some considered it a luxury for a woman to own a horse. She set the kettle back on the stove. “Mr. Troyer is selling Cactus.”

  “Cactus?” Micah frowned. “That horse is called Cactus for a reason.”

  “You’re sounding a little prickly yourself.” She looked away from his bent brows. Sure, Cactus was green. Even Mr. Troyer said he needed more training, but Cactus was the only horse she could afford. She dunked a tea bag into the hot water, then went to hand it to Edith, but she had already left the room.

  “Abigail, he isn’t a horse for you.”

  She set the cup on the counter. “He’s a little skittish, but I’ll talk to him gently.”

  “That horse won’t listen to you.”

  “I’m a gut driver.”

  “He’s nett a gut horse.” His tone hardened. “You’re nett . . .”

  “A man?” Her back stiffened.

  He narrowed his eyes. “I was going to say strong enough—but obviously you’re very strong-minded.”

  “Obviously.” She picked up the cup of tea and headed into the sitting room where she handed it to Edith. “I’m going to leave nau, but I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Perhaps you should think about what Micah is saying,” Edith said.

  Abigail cocked her head.

  “Just a suggestion, child.” Edith leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Men like Micah are looking for submissiveness in their potential fraas.”

  Abigail stifled her laughter. Dear soul, Edith had no idea how wrong she was to imply that Micah might have an interest in her.

  Micah cleared his throat. “We should probably get going.”

  Abigail smiled warmly at Edith, then headed for the front door. “I won’t be needing a ride.” She pulled her cloak off the hook. “I’ll walk.”

  “Don’t be muleheaded.”

  “I’d rather think of myself as strong-minded.” She shoved on her boots.

  He shifted his stance, groaning under his breath. “Same thing.” She flung her scarf around her neck, then put on her mittens. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He stopped her from opening the door. “Let me take you home.”

  Looking into the warmth of his eyes, her heart said yes, but her pride said no. “I’d rather walk.” She pulled the door open and stepped out into the cold.

  Micah paced the floor. All he needed was someone to watch over his grandmother while his parents were away. Less than a month and his life could get back to normal. He wouldn’t have to worry about what horse she was buying or if she made it home in this snowstorm. An image of her smiling crossed his mind. She was always so cheerful.

  “Are you going to keep pacing or go after her?”

  Micah left the sitting room and went into the kitchen. He pulled the curtain back, but the whiteout conditions were such that he couldn’t see the barn. She would find her way but probably freeze doing so. Stubborn woman.

  His grandmother came into the kitchen. “I’ll be all right if you want to check on her.”

  “Why would I want to do that!” He bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “She sure does seem to get under your skin.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “More so every day. I’ll be glad when I finish the order I’m working on.”

  “Did you get a lot done today?”

  He shook his head. “I kept thinking about the weather getting worse and that I should take Abigail home.”

  “Then I suggest you go after her.”

  “She’s probably almost home.”

  Mammi frowned. “You don’t want her out in this weather.”

  Mammi was right. If Abigail caught a cold and couldn’t watch his grandmother, the order might never get completed in time.

  “She’s been very gut company for me,” Mammi added.

 
“I thought you said she talks too much.”

  “I’m beginning to understand her. Apparently, she hasn’t had her cousin, Malinda, to talk with lately. Poor dear, I think she’s lonely.”

  Lonely? Not likely. Abigail Kemp could keep herself company if she were the only person in the room. Mammi padded out of the room and returned with his straw hat.

  He opened his mouth to object but closed it quickly. He should be grateful that Mammi and Abigail were getting along so well. He couldn’t handle any more trouble.

  CHAPTER 8

  He called me muleheaded.” Abigail huffed to Malinda. Standing on the far side of her onkel’s porch had blocked the snowy north wind, but the temperature was still freezing. She wiggled her stiff fingers inside her mittens, hoping to increase the circulation.

  “Just ignore him. He can’t tell you what horse to buy,” Malinda said.

  Jah, why was she letting Micah stir her up? He had no charge over her.

  Malinda motioned to the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to kumm inside and warm up by the woodstove a few minutes? I doubt anyone is out in this weather if you’re worried about someone seeing you.”

  Abigail’s legs had gone numb shortly after leaving Micah’s farm. She couldn’t feel her nose and her cheeks burned as if chapped by the wind.

  “It’s hot in the haus. Thomas is constantly putting logs on the fire.”

  “Okay, but I can’t stay too long.” She tapped her boots on the side of the house to knock the snow off. A blast of warm air hit her the moment she stepped into the house. “Have you heard anything from Bishop Schwartz?”

  Malinda shook her head. “Still the silent treatment. How long can this last? After Daed’s crops failed, he’d been given a line of credit to buy livestock feed. Since the silent treatment started, Mr. Mast wants his money up front. I should be thankful that Thomas is home.” Malinda swiped at a tear. “It’s too late for him. He’ll never be in the right frame of mind to repent of his waywardness.”

  “Don’t lose hope. God knows his mind and his heart.”

  “I know.” Malinda’s voice cracked. When she looked up, tears were streaming down her face. “Danki for being mei friend.”

  Abigail smiled. “You’re more like a sister than a cousin.”

  Thomas entered the kitchen. He walked to the sink and filled a glass of water, then set it on the counter and faced them. “Hiya, Abigail.”

  Abigail looked at Malinda, who seemed just as surprised to hear an Amish greeting.

  “How are you, Thomas?”

  He leaned against the counter and hiked up his T-shirt sleeve. “See my tank?”

  Ignoring him, Abigail turned to Malinda. “I should head home.” She would have liked to visit longer, but Thomas didn’t look as if he was leaving the kitchen anytime soon.

  He pushed off the counter. “You leaving?”

  “I told you before, Thomas. I don’t want to see that tattoo.”

  “You did?”

  She caught Malinda’s frown, then smiled patiently at Thomas. “You showed it to me on the day I gave you the basket of pies.”

  For a split second when he smiled, the old Thomas was present. God wasn’t through with him. Head trauma couldn’t stop God’s spirit from reaching him. All Thomas needed was a chance to join in fellowship with the other men. He left the kitchen, spewing a curse word for no apparent reason, and hope disappeared like rain on parched soil.

  “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Malinda said.

  “At least he didn’t use the Lord’s name in vain.”

  “It’s like he doesn’t have any control of his speech—or maybe it’s his thought pattern. One minute he’s speaking Pennsylvania Deitsch and the next he’s cursing.”

  “God can do all things.” Abigail reached for Malinda’s hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “And He’s given you the strength to do all things through Him.”

  “I just want things to go back to normal around here.” Malinda squeezed Abigail’s hands back.

  “Me too. I want our families to be able to spend Christmas together and go skating on the pond like we do every winter.”

  “Have they started cutting the ice yet?”

  “Nett the area I shoveled to make the rink.” The men cut slabs of ice for the icehaus during the winter. Still being able to skate after that depended on how hard of a winter they were having. This year she should be able to skate all season.

  “Is that Abigail’s voice I hear?” The cellar door opened and a draft of cold air came into the room with Aenti. Her hopeful smile faded as she set the handful of red potatoes on the counter. “I thought maybe your mamm came with you.”

  Abigail shook her head. “She misses you, Aenti. We all do.” She edged toward the front door. “I should go.”

  “Tell your mamm I said hello.” The harsh shadows under Aenti’s eyes made her face look gaunt.

  Abigail wasn’t sure how to respond. She would be punished if anyone found out about her visit.

  Malinda pulled Abigail’s cloak. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  Abigail stepped into the howling wind and waved, then spotting Thomas looking out the sitting-room window, waved at him too. A gust sent cold air down her cloak. She clasped the wool material tighter at the neck and plodded toward home. She could have taken a shortcut through the woods and made it home faster, but at least the longer route was plowed.

  By the time she reached the house, Abigail was shaking, having been out in the cold so long. A buggy was parked next to the house. On closer inspection, she recognized the horse was Micah’s. Had something happened to Edith?

  Abigail hurried into the house. Micah was standing in the foyer talking with David. Micah’s hat was in his hand and melted snow puddled on the floor around his boots. The men’s conversation halted.

  “We were getting ready to send out a search party for you,” Micah said.

  “Is something wrong with Edith?”

  “Mammi is fine.” He eyed her carefully. “You’re winded. You should have a seat and catch your breath.”

  “I’m fine.” She stepped aside as her brother reached for his coat, then told Micah he’d see him on church Sunday.

  Abigail ignored her brother’s leaving. “Did your parents kumm back early?”

  Micah shook his head. “Are you sure you don’t want to have a seat?”

  “Nay, danki, I said I’m fine. Then what is it? Why are you here?”

  He looked downward a half second, then lifted his head. “I was worried. I had to kumm by and make sure you made it home.”

  A smile creased her lips. He cared enough to harness his horse and drive over. Her heart thudded against her chest. She buried her smile. “Danki for your concern.”

  He shrugged. “Which way did you walk?”

  “I took the road so I wouldn’t have to plow through the snow in the fields.” He didn’t need to know she’d stopped at Malinda’s house. Abigail removed her cloak and shivered. Their house wasn’t nearly as hot as Malinda’s.

  “I don’t know how I could have missed you.”

  Mamm came around the corner from the kitchen. “I thought I heard your voice, Abigail.” She smiled at Micah. “Would you like a cup of kaffi?”

  “Nay, danki, I can’t stay.”

  “Any word about your sister?”

  Micah shook his head. “Nett yet, but I expect to get a letter any day.”

  “If something comes up and they don’t get back for Christmas, I want you and Edith to eat supper with us. There�
��s no sense in the two of you spending it alone.”

  “I wouldn’t want to invade your family time.”

  Mamm shooed the air. “You are like family, Micah.”

  “Danki, I’m sure Mammi will like your cooking better than mine.”

  The door flung open as Peter and Daniel rushed inside, a cold draft following them.

  Mamm pointed her index finger toward the door, prompting them back outside to stomp the snow off their boots, then she disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Do you have a few minutes to talk?” Micah said.

  Abigail motioned to the sitting room. “Let’s go in the other room where it’s warmer.”

  Micah looked down at his boots, then toward the kitchen.

  “It’s okay, Mamm won’t say anything to you.”

  “You sure?”

  “The floors need mopping anyway.” She waved and he followed her into the other room. The drafty wood floors sent a shiver up her legs. Wearing wet stockings didn’t help. It would take forever to feel her toes again. She stopped before the woodstove and extended her palms toward the heat.

  “It took you forever to get home,” he said. “You must be freezing.”

  She nodded. “I keep thinking about that homeless man on the street. His shoes had holes, and he wasn’t wearing socks. He didn’t have a coat on either. He’ll freeze to death outside.”

  “He’s a drifter. I’m sure he’s already moved on.”

  Abigail frowned. While walking home, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man, but maybe that was because he reminded her of Thomas. Thomas seemed so lost and yet he was home.

  “You have a big heart,” he said.

  She smiled. “That’s better than hearing I have a big mouth.”

  His face reddened.

  “I know I talk a lot,” she said.

  He cracked a smile. “You have a gift of gab . . . Gabby Abby.”