The Amish Christmas Kitchen (24 page)

“You do?” Doubt edged his voice. She realized how very vulnerable Amos's older brother really was.

“
Jah
. You work so hard.” Emma contemplated how to word her thoughts to best help him understand where she was coming from. “What a wonderful world we would have if everyone cared about their families the way you do.” She hesitated. “But you've got to realize that Amos's situation is different from most.”

He gave a firm nod. “That it is.”

“It was as if God placed the hardest conflict at your doorstep. He knows you have a lot of self-respect, yet He handed you a situation too big for you to handle by yourself. I think He was testing you, Jonathan. And in the end, you came through with flying colors.”

His voice held a combination of doubt and acceptance. “Ya don't know what it means to hear you say that, Emma. But since you overheard our conversation, I can ask you something else.”

She allowed him to continue.

“I wonder if Amos actually understood why I opposed the auction. I love my little brother.”

“I know you do, Jon.”

“And it's important to me that he get why I opposed the fund-raiser. The last thing in the world I want is for him to think that I didn't want his heart fixed.” Jonathan harrumphed. “And I admit that, looking back, I didn't make it clear why I felt the way I did. All the while, Amos thought I didn't want him to have the procedure. That wasn't it at all.”

He cleared his throat. “I guess I was naïve to believe that funding the procedure was something I could do alone. Or even with the help of the community. But now my eyes are wide open, and I'm not going to argue that paying for this surgery took every donation we got.”

He hesitated as the horse slowed its trot to enter Emma's long drive. As he tightened his grip on the reins, he turned to her and smiled. “I suppose you'll be cookin' a big dinner for Christmas.”

Emma grinned. “You're welcome to come, Jon. All three of you.”

She hesitated, realizing what she'd just said. She softened her voice. “Do you mind if I call you that?”

He grinned. “I suppose we don't have to keep things so formal.”

Excitement bubbled in Emma's voice as she thought of her neighbors joining them in celebration. “There will be lots of food—that you can be sure of.”

Emma considered her new relationship with Amos's brother. She sat up straighter and lifted her chin a notch. Jonathan had actually confided in her again. And for the first time, she'd called him Jon.

For several moments, she allowed that very realization to sink in. This hardworking man whom she had once believed had no heart, actually had one. And it was the size of the good ol' U.S. of A.

As he helped her out of the carriage, she held on to his arm for support. Inside, they said good-bye. But while she waved to him from the window, her thoughts lingered on Jon Troyer. As she breathed in the enticing aroma of homemade sponge cakes, she strummed nervous fingers against her thigh.

Emma hung her coat on a hook and removed her sturdy black shoes. Mamma's voice made her turn. “Time to get ready for dinner, honey.”

“I'll be right there, Mamma.”

As Emma washed her hands, her recent talk with Jonathan replayed in her thoughts. She'd called him Jon. She wasn't sure why. For some reason, it had felt right. And he had approved.

On the outside, he offered a tough façade. There was no doubt that he was difficult to read. But now that she knew him, she was keen to what he was feeling. She still had a strong calling to be with Amos and help him recover physically and emotionally from his upcoming surgery.

But Amos wasn't the only one who needed her attention. It was obvious to her that Jon also needed her. And she was committed to being there for him, too.

* * *

Emma proudly displayed the cream-colored platter of iced Christmas cookies in the middle of the Troyer kitchen table. As Jon thanked her, Amos removed the end of the plastic covering and grabbed a morsel, grinning from ear to ear as he skipped out of the room, treat in hand.

He briefly turned back to address Emma. “Thanks, Emmie.”

Emma smiled at Jon. “I'll be on my way.”

With one swift motion, Jon grabbed his coat from a hook and motioned to the door. His voice was firm. “Not so fast, there. I'm not letting you walk home in this cold weather. It's too dangerous. I can't believe you came all the way over here by foot.”

Emma sighed in relief. “A lift home would be appreciated. I'll take you up on the ride.”

Inside of the buggy, the warmth from the gas heater caressed her hands and she rubbed them together in delight.

“I hope your mamma feels well for Christmas, Jon.”

“Me, too. And I believe she will. She's overjoyed about the surgery. The news definitely lifted her spirits. And good news definitely won't hurt her recovery. At least, with Mom, she doesn't stay sick forever. I'm grateful for that. The virus comes in spurts.”

He cleared his throat. “There's something I need to say, Emma.”

As the wind rocked the buggy, she waited for him to continue. The air coming in through the door made a light whistling sound.

“The last thing I want to do is to burden you with my problems.”

“You're never a burden, Jon.”

“I've talked to you a little bit about my relationship with my dad. Since I lost him . . .” He cleared an emotional knot from his throat. “Getting through Christmas hasn't been easy. I try to stay upbeat for Amos. He's just a kid. And I want to make him as happy as I can.” He hesitated. “I miss my dad so much, it hurts. He was my best friend in the world. The person I most admired and respected.”

He breathed in and gave a shake of his head. “There's no one to talk with about it. Except you.”

Emma caught the raw emotion in his voice. Her chest ached for the man next to her. How she wished his daddy were alive. She imagined what a different world it would be for the Troyer family.

“You've helped make this holiday season bearable, Emma.”

She breathed in and drew her hand over her chest in surprise. “Oh, Jon, l know how hard it must be. And I'm grateful I can help in a small way. But I know talking about your dad doesn't bring him back. I wish it did. I can't imagine life without my daddy.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped away the moisture. “God must have a reason for taking your father when He did.”

Jon shrugged. “I sure wonder what it is. But I know that only our Lord knows the end result of our lives. There's so much we aren't aware of, we just have to continue to trust Him to guide and protect us. But, Emma . . .” She eyed him with curiosity as he went on. “Sometimes that's not easy. Especially when you hurt inside.”

Emma's heartstrings pulled at her with such strong ferocity, her chest ached. “Jon, I'm going to pray every night that that God will continue to give you strength.”

He smiled a little. “That's one thing I like about you, Emma.”

Her voice was edged with a combination of uncertainty and happiness when she responded. “What's that?”

“You never give up. And your determined spirit helps me to keep my faith. You inspire me, Emma. I understand why Amos likes having you around.”

The thought of the cookie lover prompted a giggle.

“You've brightened his life in a way that only you can do. You've been his sounding board. You've nurtured him in every way imaginable.” From her peripheral vision, she caught the roll of his eyes. “And there's no doubt in my mind, Emma, that the kid's been privy to more treats than anyone around, I'm sure.”

He laughed, and she joined him.

“Emma, Mom wants to do something special for you once she starts feeling better.”

Emma waved a hand and shook her head. “That's not necessary.”

“We're both grateful for everything you've done. And there's one thing that we both agree on.” He paused. As the horse trotted into her drive, Emma waited for him to go on.

Long moments later, he turned to her and lowered the pitch of his voice. “You'll make a great mother.”

C
HAPTER
8

C
hristmas dinner was delicious. The extended family had left. As Emma washed the last dish and ran a towel over the glass, a knock on the door made her stop.

“Mamma, are you expectin' anyone?”

“Not today.” The expression on Mamma's face was a combination of amusement and secretiveness.

Emma stepped to the door. As she opened it, a rush of cold air swept in, lifting the arm of her coat on the hook. She locked gazes with Jon.

As she turned to glance at her family, the room had mysteriously emptied.

Emma pressed her lips together thoughtfully.

Jon eyed her. “Aren't you going to ask me in?” He lifted an amused brow. “You did extend an invite.”

“I didn't think you were coming. How nice!” Emma put her palms over her mouth and drew in an embarrassed breath. “I'm sorry.” An excited giggle escaped her. “It's just that you took me by surprise.”

She waved a hand toward the dining room table. As she glanced back, the room was empty. Where had everyone gone?

“Here.” He pulled a beautifully wrapped gift from his oversized pocket. “This is for you.”

After she closed the door, he handed her the present. Deep blue ribbon circled bright red foil wrapping and fell apart in circles to form a bow.

He sat down next to her and turned to face her.

For an awkward moment, she glimpsed the gorgeous box. “I . . . I didn't get anything for you.”

The corners of his lips seemed to be turned up in a permanent smile.

“Aren't you going to unwrap it?”

* * *

She was still happily stunned by Jon's changed disposition. Curious, she lowered her chin to look at the small gift box. The color of the oversized bow took her breath away. She'd never seen such a gorgeous deep shade of blue. It was the hue of pictures she'd seen of the Caribbean.

The pitch of his voice was unusually hesitant. “I hope you like it.”

“This is so thoughtful of you, Jonathan. I wonder what it is!”

Heartened by her enthusiasm, he said, “You can guess all day, but you'll never know unless you open it.”

She grinned. But her hands stopped as she began to undo the bow. Breathlessness edged her voice as she rolled her eyes with uncertainty. “It's too pretty to touch!”

“Ah, but then you won't know what I made just for you. Aren't you curious?”

Her jaw dropped, and she leaned forward. “You
made
this?”

He offered a proud nod. “I wanted to show my appreciation for everything you've done for my little brother. So I came up with something I knew you would appreciate.”

She slid her fingers under the top of the package to take in the deep wood grain of the beautiful cherrywood recipe box. On the very top was a hand-carved letter
E
.

She drew in a surprised breath and eyed the man who obviously waited for a response.

“Emma, you've worked so hard. And I'm thankful.”

When their gazes locked, she was quick to note the brisk, nervous tapping of the toe of his black shoe against the shiny oak floor that shone with polish.

She turned the gift and looked it over. “Jonathan, this is absolutely precious. I can't believe you did this especially for me.”

He pointed a shaky finger to the hand-engraved
E
in the middle. I wanted to personalize it.” He smiled a little. “And I have no doubt that your famous Christmas cookie recipe will be on the very first card.”

When she opened the lid, her jaw dropped in pleasant surprise as she glimpsed the star he'd carved into the wood. “Since the stars with blue icing were my little brother's favorites, I thought it only fitting to replicate one.”

She laid a gentle hand on the gift and lowered the pitch of her voice to emphasize her gratefulness. “Thank you so much, Jon. I will treasure this and every time I use it, I will think of you, Amos, and the auction. It represents a dream come true.”

“Emma, you've helped Amos. And my family.” He gave a quick roll of his eyes while he shook his head and grinned mischievously. “I admit I've been a pain throughout the entire process, and I regret it. Now that the fund-raiser's over, I'm grateful Amos will have his procedure.”

He tried to clear an emotional knot from his throat, but when he continued, his voice cracked with emotion. “Now that the operation's scheduled and all, I've realized I need to swallow my pride to make sure Amos gets the treatment he desperately needs.”

Still absorbing the gift and the change in his demeanor, she eyed him to continue.

“Though I've tried every resource I could get my hands on, I wasn't able to find a way to pay for the surgery on my own. Believe me, I asked God over and over to help so I wouldn't have to accept it. But while I listened to the auctioneer push for ever higher bids, I thought of my father. And I recalled a particular conversation we'd had before he passed away.”

“You were at the auction?”

He nodded.

Emma sat very still. She lifted a curious brow as Jonathan shifted in his chair.

Jonathan went on. “I remember it like it happened yesterday. We were talking in the barn. It was while we loaded the stable with fresh straw for the cattle.” Jonathan chuckled as his gaze drifted off in space. She knew how close he'd been to his father.

“He was giving me advice for when I became a dad. There were certain things he instilled in us. One of them was to be a good provider. To do things on our own and never depend on others.”

Emma offered an understanding nod. She fully got why he'd been so intent on coming through with the money on his own. She knew Jon had loved his dad more than anything in the world, and Emma was sure that he had attentively heeded his role model's advice.

“We were discussing how a man should lead his family. But something else came up in the dialogue. Something I had forgotten.”

Emma curled her fingers around her precious gift. “What was it?”

Jonathan uncrossed his legs. “That family comes first. And nothing's more important than protecting them and making sure they're okay.”

He bent his head a notch and looked directly into her eyes. The flecks in his own eyes danced with passion. Mesmerized, she found it hard to look away.

“I've given this a lot of thought, and now I'm sure that this fund-raiser was meant to protect Amos.” He closed his lids and pushed out a deep breath. “If I had stopped the auction that was intended solely to benefit my family, how could I ever have forgiven myself? And after a lot of thought and prayers, I'm sure Dad would approve of accepting the donations.”

Emma didn't blink. Had she heard him correctly?

“Every moment that my brother is in surgery, I'll thank God for you and everyone who worked so hard to protect the person I love more than anyone in the world.” He paused and lowered his gaze. “I'm sorry I didn't show appreciation sooner.”

She smiled a little as she considered his change of heart. Finally, she offered a slow, thoughtful nod of acceptance. “You're forgiven.”

He sighed relief. The tenseness in his shoulders seemed to go away.

“I'm glad it worked out the way it did.”

He blew out a deep breath and offered an agonizing shake of his head. “I was headstrong, Emma. And I truly regret my stubbornness.”

She spoke in a soft, reassuring voice. “It's okay, Jon. The story had a happy ending. And you're only human. And to be honest . . .” She paused, then waved a hand. “Oh, it's nothing.”

“Tell me. I've just bared my soul to you.”

She decided on a straightforward approach. “I like that about you. I mean, that you're such a fierce protector. Because you stepped right in and led your family when your dad passed away.”

He smiled a little and lifted an inquisitive brow.

“It certainly took me by surprise. Although it's not uncommon for an Amish boy my age to take care of a family. But my circumstances weren't exactly by choice—Dad taught me well. It's difficult, though, 'cause I don't have him to lean on now.” He gave a quick roll of his eyes to change the subject. “Now I have a question for you.”

“Go ahead.”

He hesitated and squinted in doubt. “I need your honest answer.”

She offered a quick nod. “Sure.”

She clutched her hands together, wondering what on earth he could ask that would cause him so much uncertainty.

He tapped the toe of his shoe against the floor again. This time, the pace was much faster. The light coming in from the window made her foiled paper sparkle. “I've asked your parents' permission to court you.”

She swallowed. Suddenly she found herself without a response. Was this really happening? Gruff, difficult-to-get-along-with Jon Troyer wanted to
date
her? She tried hard to control her emotions, which were a combination of happiness and great surprise.

He studied her with intense curiosity before looking down, as if trying to decide what to say next. When he lifted his chin, his eyes sparkled with moisture. She was touched.

“You're the kindest, hardest-working woman I've ever met. When I look at you, I see everything that God would like us all to be. You won my brother's heart from the get-go.” He softened the pitch of his voice. “And mine.”

Emma stood absolutely still. Could she believe what he was telling her?

His voice softened to a hushed whisper. “Would you give me the honor to court you?”

Several long moments passed before the potent, unexpected question completely sank in. When it did, she grinned and a small, excited giggle escaped her throat. “I would love that, Jon.”

* * *

That evening, the light from the candle on Emma's bed stand flickered as the pleasant scent of vanilla floated through her bedroom. As soon as she opened her lids, Emma propped her pillows against the headboard of her oak bed and sat back into the cushions.

The softness prompted her to relax. As she stretched her legs on top of the quilt that had been made by her mother, she clasped her hands together under her neck and gazed out of the window that overlooked their pasture.

The darkness made it impossible to see what she knew was there—cattle, the huge red barn—but her front-row view of the Milky Way was crystal clear. As the bright moon hovered amidst the constellation of bright stars, a sigh of amazement escaped Emma's lips.

If God could design such a complex pattern in the sky, surely He could fix Amos's heart. While she contemplated the soon-to-be procedure, she scooted down toward the foot of the bed a notch and wiggled her bare toes against the soft, comfy fabric.

Pressing her lips together, she considered God's role in the surgery. It hadn't been mere coincidence that they had raised more than enough money to pay for Amos's surgery, transportation, and lodging. She knew that it was her Lord at His best. Thousands of prayers had made it to the Creator, and He had responded with great enthusiasm.

While Emma mentally prepared herself for all of the steps leading up to the operation, she thought of Amos's recovery. Immediately, her shoulders tensed. The tempo of her pulse stepped up a couple of notches. She moved her hands to her lap, where she interlaced her fingers.

As she considered the fast-approaching operation, she closed her eyes and pushed out a stressful sigh. As soon as she did, she remembered her faith and knew that God would continue to bless them.

A few moments later, she opened her lids, which clung to her pupils. Moisture clouded her vision. But the tears weren't a bad thing; instead, she found them to be a combination of happiness and relief.

She turned onto her left side to take in the beautiful view looming on the other side of her window. The stars and the moon were miles away—she couldn't even begin to imagine the great distance—yet they had been made by the same Creator as she.

That realization caused her jaw to drop. She went on to prop her head with her hand and attempted to make sense of what was so unbelievable, but real.

She recalled her sixteen years, which had been filled with love, Scripture, and blessings, and she silently praised God that she had been brought up in a Christian home. As she took in the perfection and complexity of the constellation above her, she smiled.

How on earth could anyone look up at the sky and not believe in God?

* * *

With great care not to burn her arms, Emma pulled a batch of Christmas cookies from the gas oven and smiled in satisfaction. As she set the baking sheet filled with star-shaped desserts on hot pads on the cream-stone countertop, she pushed out a sigh of delight. From the window above the sink, she took in the Troyer home in the distance while her dad cleared the new batch of snow from their front sidewalk.

Icicles hung from the sides of the roof. The family buggy was parked beneath the covered area next to the house.

She eyed the recipe box that Jon had given her yesterday and grinned. She traced her pointer finger over the star that he had so beautifully carved into the polished wooden lid.

Jon wants to court me.
As she slid the delicious-smelling morsels onto the paper tray, the unexpected compliments he'd given her replayed in her mind until she gave a shake of her head in happy disbelief.

All the while she had fought to keep the auction alive, he had really wanted it, too. Deep down inside. It was just that accepting money from others had made him feel as though he wasn't following through with his duties as head of the household.

Between Jon's conversation with Amos and their buggy rides, she had gotten to know the man better. And she liked him. In fact . . . She pushed out a happy sigh. She loved the way he made sure she got home safely. She appreciated that he toted her book bag for her.