Snowfall (14 page)

Viola's eyes shone. “Oh, Mommi. Elsie and I have really been enjoying ourselves. I've missed my twin. And Mommi, you should see Elsie. She is so happy to have something important to do.”

Lovina inwardly winced. “We should have known better than to hover as much as we have. Everyone needs to feel needed.” Which, she decided, was what hosting Annie had done for her. She really felt like Annie needed their conversations and projects. And that, of course, made Lovina want to do even more with her.

Viola walked to the pot of chili, took a sniff, and smiled. “Is it ready yet?”

“Not yet. Plus, I still need to make some corn bread to go with it.”

“I could do that.”

“I know you could. But I'd rather you simply talk to me. What's on your mind, dear?”

“Annie.”

“I thought maybe so. Is everything all right with her?”

Viola studied her closely. So closely that Lovina could practically see her granddaughter's mind spinning.

And that made her a bit nervous, not that she would ever let Viola know that. “Is she upset about something?”

Viola leaned back against one of the counters. “I don't know. Mommi, I really don't know Annie all that well. As I told you and Dawdi, her father kept her out of the mission for the most part. He's a dedicated servant to the Lord.”

“I've heard that.”

Viola swallowed. “I'm embarrassed to say I didn't give her all that much thought. Edward keeps a busy schedule, and I've had my hands full trying to be as good a helpmate as I can be.”

“That's a good thing, child.”

“I thought so, but now . . . Mommi, Annie looks like a different person here.”

“Surely not. She hasn't been here that long.”

“But you've made a difference to her.”

“I'm happy to hear that.”

“I spoke with her this morning. She confided how you told her about snow. About how it covered things up that weren't pretty but only for a short time.” Again, Viola gave her grandmother a curious look.

And again, Lovina felt a little awkward. “Viola, I can't help but speak my mind.”

“I'm glad you did. When she and I talked this morning, Annie told me that she was actually thinking about her life for the very first time. Because you made her realize that she has choices.” She shook her head in wonder. “You've done something remarkable, Mommi.”

“Not at all. If anything special happened, it was because of Annie herself. And, of course, the Lord working through her.”

Viola grinned, startling Lovina so much that she stopped grating the block of cheddar cheese and glared for good measure. “What is that grin for?”

“Because though you always speak your mind, you don't usually take such care with your words.”

“I wouldn't say that.”

“I would, and so would everyone else. Usually, you speak your mind with such force and confidence that a bulldozer wouldn't interfere with your will.”

“That's a bit of an exaggeration.”

“If it is, it's only a small one,” she said around a smile. Wrapping her arms around Lovina's waist, she leaned close and rested her head on Lovina's back. “Mommi, I came in here to tell you thank you. To tell you that you proved me right, and I wasn't even sure I was right. Thanks for letting Annie stay with you and Dawdi so I could spend some time with Elsie. You're making this Christmas really special for her.”

Such compliments embarrassed Lovina. And were so out of the ordinary, they made Lovina feel uncomfortable, too.

And so, because of that, she brushed them off. “She's here because of you and your husband, Viola. I think that means you've had quite a part in making the holiday special for her, too.”

“Yes, but—”

“If you're going to start sprinkling around compliments like birdseed, then you should take your fair share of them, too.”

Viola buttoned her lips, but her eyes were twinkling. “
Jah,
Mommi.”

“Let's not discuss this again,” Lovina said brusquely. “I don't want anyone to feel like they're being talked about.”

“All right, Mommi.”

Then, because Lovina was feeling warm and cozy, and loved and secretly almost as happy as Viola looked, she reached down, took out a box of corn bread mix, and turned to face Viola. “Now, because you offered, you may make some corn bread. Unless you don't feel like helping me out any longer.”

“I'll make the corn bread, Mommi. I'll be happy to.”

“
Danke
, dear.” Then, because she couldn't help it, Lovina leaned down and pressed her lips to Viola's forehead. “You are a
wonderful-gut
girl, Viola. And if I may say so, you've turned into a
wonderful-gut
woman.”

“
Danke
, Mommi.”

For the last ten minutes, Martin had been pinned under a cranky, crying four-year-old on the edge of a narrow, unmade twin bed.

It was not comfortable.

And because he had six
kinner
, the situation wasn't something he was totally unfamiliar with. He had dealt with his fair share of tired and sick children over the years. He'd learned to take things minute by minute instead of worrying about everything he couldn't control.

He'd also learned to pray. Prayer always helped.

Unfortunately, at the moment his neck was getting a crick in it from his awkward position, and he didn't feel quite right asking the Lord to alleviate his pain.

Instead, he attempted to think of the positive, just like Ruth seemed to be so fond of doing. With that in mind, he gave thanks that he was currently lying down next to Meg and not carrying her around the house. And that the worst of her crying jag seemed to have ended.

Once the muscles in his shoulders eased, he allowed himself to close his eyes. And suddenly, he was too comfortable to get up when he heard Thomas answer the door to Ruth, who came in with some man, then close the door.

Relief poured through him when he heard Ruth's pleasant voice drift up the stairs. She'd come back.

Thank you, Got
, he murmured.

“Daed, who's there?” Meg asked in a sleepy voice.

“Sounds like Ruth and maybe a driver. Thomas let her in.”

Meg waited a beat. Then another one. Then exhaled around a hiccup. “Oh.”

“
Jah
, oh,” he murmured under his breath.

Now it was an even better idea to get up and see to things. He couldn't have Meg seeing him ignore Ruth.

And he would get up. In just a few minutes. Hopefully.

Instead, he kept his face turned toward the door as he heard their slow progression up the stairs.

“What's going on?” Meg whispered.

“I don't know because I'm here with you. I should probably move, don't ya think?”

After the smallest of pauses, she shook her head. “Not yet.”

Now that she'd shifted and wasn't crying anymore, and he'd stopped worrying so much and had finally relaxed, he was almost comfortable. With that in mind, he gave her a little squeeze. “I'll stay here a little longer.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She sighed.

Voices drifted up. It sounded as if Ruth had a good number of suitcases. Then it sounded as if Katrina and Brigit were talking to her.

It really was time to get up. He'd just moved Meg when Ruth at last appeared, poking her head into the room, her bright blue eyes blinking in confusion, then humor, when she spied him lazing about on the bed. “Martin, are you sick, too?”

“
Nee
. There's a story here, but I'll save it for another day.” Grinning at her, he got to his feet. “It sounds as if you brought a couple of suitcases with ya?”

“I did.” She looked down at her feet, which at the moment were only covered in thick tights covered with black-and-gold-striped socks. “I decided to accept your offer.”

At last, it was official. Breathing a sigh of relief, he murmured, “I'm mighty glad that you decided to come back. I feared that I'd scared you off.”

“You didn't.” She tilted her head to one side, obviously taking in Meg's prone form and his ragged appearance. “But maybe I should've been more scared.” As she walked toward them, her steps became more pronounced. “Meg, what is wrong with you?”

“I think I got the pox.”

“I'm pretty sure she does,” Martin said. “She's got the same symptoms Gregory has.”

Meg rubbed her right eye with the side of one hand. “I'm icky.”

Ruth gazed at Meg, taking in the little girl's tear-stained cheeks, flushed color, ratty hair, and running nose in one fell swoop. Then, to Martin's amazement, she threw her head back and laughed.

“Indeed you are. You're an icky mess, for sure and for certain.”

“I don't wanna be a mess.”

When Meg's bottom lip started to quiver, Ruth sat down next to her, neatly forcing Martin to climb off the bed and get to his feet. “Meg, it's time you stopped crying,” she said. “No good ever comes of tears, and it usually makes things a fair bit worse.”

“But—”

“No buts, child.” Curving herself around Meg, Ruth neatly pulled a tissue out of the box on the bedside table and held it up to Meg's nose. “Now, blow.”

To Martin's amazement, Meg did just that. Without complaining. Without whining. Without adding one more teardrop.

Standing in the doorway, Martin murmured, “Ruth, we are obliged.” When he noticed that Thomas was standing just outside in the hallway, he put a hand on the boy's shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Right away Thomas relaxed against him. “You are a miracle worker.”

Ruth glanced his way and winked. “Not so much. I'm new, that's all.”

No, he was fairly sure that her newness had nothing to do with it. The fact was that she was competent. Capable and productive. “I am
verra
glad you decided to return.”

“Me, too.”

“Me, three,” Thomas said. “Especially because she promised she'd stay for as long as we needed her,” he added with a smile.

“Hopefully not too much past Christmas,” she murmured.

“To be sure,” Martin murmured. But inside his heart, he was thinking that her staying longer wouldn't be such a bad thing at all.

“Ruth, I'll go put your bags in the study downstairs. The couch in there folds down into a bed. I was thinking that maybe that might be a better spot for you instead of one of the children's bedrooms. The study has a door, so you'll have some peace and quiet at night. And it's a bit apart so you'll have some privacy, too. I hope that will be okay with you?”

She blinked. “
Jah
. I think it will be just fine, Martin. Now, I know you need to head to work. Go on. I'll see to my things after I sit with Meg for a bit.”

“
Jah
, I guess I should head over to the farm to see how Floyd is doing without me.” Turning to his son, he said, “Thomas, let's go see how the rest of the household is doing. And go get some sheets for Ruth's bed.”

“Okay, Daed. But I gotta warn you. The rest of the kids don't look good.”

He stilled. “Oh?”

“Katrina's sick and Karin just threw up. And so did Frank. I hate to say it, Daed, but at the moment, I'm the best you got.”

“Ruth, I think I'll stick around here a little longer,” he called out as he went to check up on Katrina and Karin.

Thomas grinned as he led the way back downstairs with Martin following. Now not regretting his decision to lie down with Meg for those brief scant minutes.

It was looking plenty certain that he wasn't going to have another moment like that for a long time.

Those ghosts that visit Scrooge seem kind of mean to me. I, for one, wouldn't do a thing they said.

Thomas, Age 8

The moment Martin and Thomas disappeared from sight, Meg tugged on the sleeve of Ruth's dress. “Are you really going to stay?”

“I am.”

“For a long time?”

“I'll be here until all of you
kinner
are feeling better. At least a couple of more days.”

“But then?”

“But then I'll go back home, dear,” she said lightly.

“But what if we don't get better by Christmas?”

Since Christmas was in two days, Ruth was pretty sure they weren't going to be better by then. “If you're not, it will still be Christmas, and Christmas is about Jesus' birth, ain't so?” When Meg nodded solemnly, she added, “I promise I'll stay until all of you do feel better, but I don't think you're going to have to worry about that. I promise, you're itchy and uncomfortable now, but the worst of it will pass soon.”

“Sure?”

“I am sure. The chicken pox is no fun, but it always fades away. And then all you're left with is the memory.” She held out her hand. “Let's go get your face washed. Then we'll straighten up your bed. Why, it looks like wild animals got ahold of your bed and rumpled all of your sheets. Did that happen last night?”

Meg's lopsided smile returned.
“Nee.”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure,” she said, this time with a giggle. “No animals were in my bed last night. At least, I don't think so!”

Ruth shook her head in mock worry as she guided Meg out of bed, slipped her robe around her, and walked her to the bathroom. “It seems I better be on the lookout for roving animals in the night.”

“Ruth, there's only Frank here, and he sleeps in the kitchen.”

“Hmm.”

She turned on the faucet, let the water run until it got warm, then carefully bathed Meg's face and neck. Afterward, she brushed out the girl's hair and braided it neatly. By the time she had finished, Meg was yawning.

Leaving the child there to brush her teeth, Ruth returned to the room and straightened the bed, feeling almost like a mother. Funny, growing up, she'd always wished for someone to look after her. But at the moment she was enjoying the feeling of fussing over a little girl.