A Christmas Home Read online

  Portman offered another handshake before climbing into his car. “I’ll be looking forward to a long and profitable relationship. For both of us.”

  Noah nodded, trying to control his elation as he watched the vehicle drive off. He’d been so busy with the boys lately that he hadn’t given much thought to the future of the business. It had been enough to keep his head above water.

  Now . . . now a door had opened to a better future, and he was thankful. And thankful, too, he reminded himself, for Sarah’s business sense. He glanced down at the receipt he still held. He’d have accepted a handshake deal, and that might have been a mistake. Not that he was suspicious of the man, but dealing with an Englischer with a big, prosperous business was a different story from agreeing to make a dower chest for a niece.

  That being the case, he ought to firm up his agreement with Sarah. He knew perfectly well why he was hesitating, didn’t he? If Sarah were a pleasant, grandmotherly married woman, he’d have settled it yesterday. She was pleasant, yes, but she was also an attractive single woman. And he was a married man without a wife, and with no hope of that situation ever changing.

  That didn’t seem to bother Sarah or her grandmother, but it bothered him, probably because he’d been far too aware of Sarah since the moment he set eyes on her.

  * * *

  —

  IT WAS NEARLY time for Noah’s boys to get home from school, and Sarah had made up her mind that she’d leave then for the day. She glanced at Noah. Was he really unaware that they hadn’t settled anything about her job between them?

  At first she’d been just as happy, since it gave her more time to decide if this was really what she wanted. But her doubts had begun to seem silly. Just because Noah had two motherless children, that didn’t mean he’d expect her to mother them. She must be overly sensitive on that topic.

  She could hardly accept the job until he asked her, now could she? Certainly at this moment he seemed to have forgotten she was even in the room. He was humming tunelessly under his breath as he worked, his face intent, his eyes focused on the wood under his hands.

  Sarah shook her head slightly. She’d heard of losing oneself in work, but she’d never seen anyone who was quite as deaf to the outside world as Noah was. She amused herself with trying to think what it would take to distract him. A clap of thunder? She didn’t think anything less would do.

  Just then he glanced up and caught her watching him. Sarah felt a wave of heat reach her cheeks and hastily turned back to the paper in her hand, scanning it as if it were something crucial.

  “Did you have a question, Sarah?” He straightened, stretching his back.

  “No, I don’t think so.” She slapped the paper on its proper pile. “I have everything sorted, but I need a system for keeping bills and receipts and contracts stored. Some file folders would do. If you don’t have any, I’ll probably be in town sometime soon, so I could pick them up.”

  “Running errands in preparation for hosting worship?” he asked, seeming to indicate he was ready to take a break.

  “Most likely. I’m looking forward to seeing folks at worship, but . . .”

  “But this is pitchforking you right into it.” He finished the thought for her. “I know what you mean. My sisters are convinced I’m incapable of hosting worship, so they descend on me the week before, cleaning everything that stands still.”

  Sarah smiled at the image. This was better. They were talking like friends, instead of like wary strangers. “I can imagine. Ruthie’s sisters are coming tomorrow, so I foresee a busy day.”

  “I think there are some folders in the house . . .” He stopped at a clatter outside. From the sound of excited young voices, she’d say the twins were home.

  “Daadi, Daadi!” The door burst open. “Is Sarah here?”

  “Whoa, slow down.” Noah caught hold of the nearest twin—Matthew, she thought. “Don’t come in shouting.”

  “But it’s Teacher Dorcas,” Mark said. “She came home with us. She wants to see Sarah.”

  “Dorcas?” Her heart lifted at the sound of the name. Dorcas Beiler had been her closest friend since they were six-year-olds walking into school for the first time. And now Dorcas was the teacher at that same school. She couldn’t get outside fast enough.

  They met on the steps and nearly knocked each other over with the warmth of their hug. Dorcas let go, laughing. “Here, we’d best get off the steps. I have to preserve a little dignity. After all, I’m the teacher now.”

  “And that’s impossible to believe, given how much of a schnickelfritz you used to be.”

  Happiness bubbling up in her, Sarah took stock of what the years had done to her friend. Dorcas was more mature, of course, but as pretty as ever with those flashing dark brown eyes and the smile that showed the dimples in her cheeks.

  “Was Teacher Dorcas naughty?” That was Matthew, and he and his brother were watching the two of them wide-eyed.

  “Matthew . . .” Noah began, sounding reproving.

  “Not a bit of it,” Dorcas said, laughing. “Sarah, if you tell any stories on me, you’ll be sorry.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sarah assured her. If anything were lacking to make her feel at home, it would be the friends of her childhood. “Ach, it’s wonderful gut to see you. But did you come to talk to Noah?”

  “No, I came to see you. The twins were full of the fact that you’re working for their daadi.” Dorcas turned to Noah with the quick movement that was so characteristic of her. “Mind, now, you’re not to keep Sarah working such long hours that she doesn’t have time for her old friends.”

  There was an awkward little pause as Noah looked at her. It was logical enough for Dorcas to assume things were settled between them, but this was forcing the job subject with a vengeance. Sarah had intended to say something, but not this way.

  Noah’s eyes flickered as he focused on her intently, as if assessing her abilities. Or maybe whether he could stand having her around every day. But then he gave a small nod.

  “Her hours are for Sarah to say. As much as it takes to do the job. If that’s all right with you?”

  For an instant she hesitated. Maybe he had been forced into it, but he could have made some excuse if he didn’t want to hire her, couldn’t he? He hadn’t, so . . .

  “Yah. That sounds fine,” she said.

  There. She had a job. One more step toward her future was accomplished.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Matthew leaned against Sarah’s skirt, and she put a hand on his shoulder without thinking. “Were you Teacher Dorcas’s best friend? Like me and Mark?”

  “You and Mark are twins, so I guess that’s even better than best friends. But yah, Teacher Dorcas was almost like a sister to me when we were little.”

  “Not now?” he piped up.

  Kinder did have a way of asking awkward questions. Before she could come up with an answer that took into account ten years apart, Dorcas took over.

  “Now, too,” she said firmly. “Now I’m going to walk home with my best friend. Don’t you two forget to practice your spelling words. Tomorrow’s Friday, remember?”

  Matthew nodded, looking as if he’d rather not be reminded, but Mark tugged at him. “Let’s go practice.”

  “That’s right,” Noah added, gathering the boys together and heading them toward the house. “Homework first, and then your chores.” He glanced at Sarah. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yah?”

  She nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  But she wasn’t thinking about work. She was thinking about what Dorcas had said. Were they still the best of friends after all this time? Once they’d told each other everything, shared every secret, but now . . . even the letters they’d exchanged might not have bridged the gap of the years.

  Dorcas smiled, her dimples showing. “Ready to go? I promise not to take any shortcuts this time.”

  “Promise? No racing the bull to the fence?” Sarah reached inside to take her jacket from the hook near the door.

  “I don’t do things like that now.” They fell into step on the lane that lead to the Miller farm. “I’m not eight any longer.”

  “Were we eight when that happened?” Sarah shook her head. “Old enough to know better, anyway. You should have heard the scolding I got.”

  “That’s okay. I had one of my own, after your mother told my mother.”

  A little silence fell between them. Sarah wondered if Dorcas was looking back, as she was, and questioning where the time had gone.

  “We were a little more sheltered than kinder are now, I think,” Dorcas said, her usually smiling face looking grave. “Some of the things my scholars say startle me. They seem to know much more about the outside world than we did.”

  Sarah nodded, thinking about her own brothers and sister. Certainly they were more aware than she’d been in those days before Mammi’s death had changed everything.

  “How are Thomas and David? And little Nancy—it seems impossible that she can be old enough to be married.”

  “She was only nineteen.” Sarah felt a familiar pang at the thought of saying good-bye to her baby sister. “I thought it was too young, but no one else did. And he’s a gut man, with a fine job in his father’s carriage business and a farrier on the side.”

  “But it was hard to part with her.” Dorcas understood what she didn’t say, just as she always had.

  “She was the baby, after all—only nine when Mammi died, so I had to mother her more than I did the boys, in a way.” Sarah shook her head, shaking off sad memories. “Enough about me. Tell me about you. How did you ever get to become a teacher?”

  “After being such a wild teenager, you mean. Surprising, isn’t it?” Dorcas’s eyes regained their sparkle.

  “Ach, you weren’t that bad.” But they both knew that Dorcas had gone very close to the line during their rumspringa.

  “You don’t believe that. If there was trouble around, I was sure to get into it. And if the school board members knew the half of it, they wouldn’t want me near the school.” Her voice went suddenly serious. “And I couldn’t stand that. Funny that I never realized how much I’d like to teach until the opportunity fell into my lap. Now . . . it would be hard to give it up.”

  “I’m glad.” She was. And maybe just a touch envious. Dorcas seemed to have no doubts at all about her path. “You’re fortunate to have found something you love to do.”

  “I am. But what about you? Are you happy about this job you’ve taken on?”

  The lane swung through a section of woods, shading them, and it was suddenly much colder. Sarah snugged her jacket around her more closely.

  “I’m not sure happy is the word. I’m wonderful glad to have a job, though. My cousin Eli was all ready to sign me up to help his wife with the kinder and the house, whether she wanted me or not. I needed a job if I didn’t want that to be my life.”

  Dorcas gave her a searching look. “Feeling regrets?”

  “No, not regrets, exactly.” She tried to find the words. “Sorrow, I suppose, that I missed the life I’d have had here. But I could never regret taking care of my siblings. Loving them, trying to make up for the loss of Mammi . . . that was the most important job in the world, it seemed to me.”

  “They couldn’t have done without you, that’s certain-sure.” Dorcas hesitated for a moment. “What about your daad? What’s he doing now?”

  “He’s off chasing a new life again, in Colorado this time. He urged me to go with him. I think he honestly didn’t understand why I wanted to come home. It wondered me . . .”

  She let that trail off, but she might have known Dorcas wouldn’t be content with not knowing all of it. “What?”

  “Was it my duty to go along and take care of him?” It was the first time she’d put the question into words. “I . . . I still keep second-guessing myself. He depended on me for so much, and I went off and left him on his own. If he gets into trouble . . .”

  “That’s nonsense.” Dorcas was quick to respond. “What trouble could he get into? He’s not a child. If he chose to go off someplace new, that’s his business.”

  “I suppose.” She wasn’t convinced, but she saw no way of being sure she was right. “How did you get so much common sense? That was never your strong point.”

  Dorcas laughed. “It wasn’t, was it? That I learned from sad experience.” She sobered for a moment. “Anyway, you’re here now and getting settled. If this job doesn’t work out, at least it gives you time to look around for something else. Just promise me you won’t go brooding about your daad. He can take care of himself.”

  “All right, I promise.” And she’d try to keep that promise. “You’re right. I am getting settled, and I love living with Grossmammi.”

  “No problems with Ruthie, is there? She seems like a sweet girl.”

  “Yah, of course she is. But naturally, she wouldn’t want someone taking over her house and running it their way. No young wife would.”

  “And she thinks you couldn’t help running things.” Dorcas had a laugh in her voice. “We always knew Sarah was the one to take charge.”

  “As it turned out, that was just as well.” Did she sound defensive? She didn’t mean to.

  “I know you did what you had to. It’s just a shame—” She stopped, not finishing, but Sarah knew the rest of it.

  “It’s a shame we didn’t stay here. But Daad was sure it was best to move. He wanted to get away from the memories, I think.”

  Dorcas looked at her skeptically. “Was it necessary to move all those times to get away?”

  Anger flared for an instant, and then died like a spark sputtering out on stone. “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m still trying to defend him. He just likes to wander. When Mamm was alive, she could dissuade him.” She made a face, trying to cover the sense of failure she carried. “I never could.”

  Dorcas reached out to clasp her hand for a moment in silent sympathy. “I’m just glad you’re here to stay. I was afraid . . . well, afraid your daad would talk you out of it.”

  “He tried.” She shrugged off the memory. “He just couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to take off to Colorado with him. But I was born without that wanderlust. All I ever wanted was a settled home.”

  “Now you have it. It’s a shame poor Noah didn’t marry someone like you. Janie . . . well, she was always thinking there was something she was missing in life.”

  “I just can’t imagine any woman being willing to leave her babies behind like that. I could hardly believe it when he told me.”

  “He told you?” Dorcas blinked. “I’ve heard he never speaks about it to anyone.”

  “He didn’t want to.” She couldn’t forget the pain and anger that had radiated from him. “I didn’t know about it, and I blundered into saying something.”

  “How did he react?”

  “About like you’d think. He was angry, but at least he understood that I hadn’t known.”

  “It’s a wonder he wanted to hire you, then.”

  Sarah had to smile. “You forced him into it with your teasing. What else could the man do?”

  “We both blundered with Noah, I guess. But I’m glad it’s working out, anyway.” She put her arm around Sarah in a quick hug. “I’m wonderful glad to have you home.”

  “Not as glad as I am to be here.” Her fears that they wouldn’t be able to bridge the gap of the years had been foolish. Dorcas was still the same, and the gap she’d imagined had never been there at all.

  They’d reached the path to the farmhouse. “Come in with me, why don’t you? Grossmammi would love to see you, and I’d guess she has lemonade and cookies ready.”

  “I never could resist your grandmother’s cookies.”

  Together they walked toward the house. Grossmammi evidently saw them coming, because she came out on the back porch, pulling a black shawl around her.

  “Ach, Dorcas.” Grossmammi swept her into a hug. “I wondered how long it would take you to come around after my snickerdoodle cookies.”

  “I think I must have smelled them all the way from the schoolhouse,” Dorcas said, returning the hug. “Everyone thinks the kinder need a snack after school. The teacher needs it even more.”

  Grossmammi smiled in response, but Sarah detected something serious in the look her grandmother directed at her.

  “What is it?” Her mind skittered from one thing to another.

  “Nothing, nothing.” Grossmammi patted her arm. “I was chust checking the answering machine in the phone shanty, that’s all. There’s a message from your daad.”

  Sarah stiffened. She’d thought Daad had finally realized she’d meant it about coming home. If he hadn’t . . .

  “Maybe he just called to see how you’re getting settled,” Dorcas suggested.

  “Maybe.” She tried to smile. “Forget it. We’re ready for cookies now. I’ll take care of calling back later.”

  But she couldn’t so easily dismiss it from her thoughts. She’d have to call him back, and then what? Another fruitless argument? She’d always believed Daad wanted what he thought was best for his family. But she knew now that they’d never agree on what the best thing for her was.

  * * *

  —

  ON FRIDAY MORNING Noah found himself unwillingly moving furniture. Sarah had decided that the workshop would function better if her work area and the finished pieces were in the addition, leaving the larger space for his works in progress.

  Wasn’t that just like a woman—coming into a man’s workshop and rearranging it?

  They each took an end of the desk. “Sure you can manage that? I could do this sometime when Daad is here.” And maybe he could put it off indefinitely.

  “I’ve got it,” she declared. “Let’s go.”