The Christmas Cradle (18 page)

“And I'm goin' home to put my feet up,” Naomi said. “What with that busload of folks that came to eat after shoppin' at Simple Gifts and the mill store, it's been a busy afternoon.”

“I'm glad Nora told us ahead of time they were coming,” Savilla remarked. “Most of them bought something from the bakery case to take home, too—including all of Lena's cookies,” she added as she smiled at Josiah. “We might create a whole new cottage industry with home bakers around town at this rate.”

Josiah's heartbeat sped up. Lena would be tickled to hear how well her sugar cookies had sold again today. She was now doing the baking as well as the decorating so Miriam wouldn't be spending so much time on her feet. The Hooley baby was due in a week or two, and Miriam was looking uncomfortable, allowing herself more time to rest—and it was only right that Lena do most of the work because she was getting the money.

“Time to check my cookers,” he said as he followed Naomi to the kitchen door. “Some of those ribs and briskets will soon be ready to come off the grill, and the pig's done, too.”

“They smell wonderful-
gut
,” she said as they slipped into their coats. “You kids have a fine afternoon. I'll see ya later.”

“
Denki
for everything, Naomi!” Savilla called out behind them.

“
Jah
, we're really grateful for the help you've given us,” Josiah added as he grabbed some tongs and metal steam table pans. “Without you and Miriam, there's no way we could be serving our supper tonight.”

Josiah stepped outside with Naomi and then stood in the crisp winter air, inhaling the savory aroma of the meats he'd put into the grills and barrel cookers early that morning. He opened the two grills nearest the back wall of the café, where he'd been cooking large foil-wrapped beef briskets.

He scowled. When he'd checked them a few hours ago, the coals and wood were at the perfect temperature—and now they were out.
And the wood's not just cold, it's wet,
he realized as he poked beneath the grill rack with his tongs.

Josiah quickly went down the row of cookers, opening them in a panic. He was greatly relieved that the smoke was still coming out of the barrel cooker where his whole hog was roasting—and glad as well that the ribs in the gas grills appeared to be done to perfection. The foil around the briskets hadn't been disturbed, and as he calculated the time they'd been cooking, he was confident that spoilage wouldn't be an issue.

But how had this happened? The top vents were open, as they should be—

He spotted a big dent in the snow that had drifted along the windbreak wall.
Somebody scooped up snow and dumped it on these coals
. But who would tamper with his equipment? No one in Willow Ridge would intentionally ruin the main course of the first meal he and Savilla were serving.

Josiah's heart thudded.
Hiram's been here.

He removed the briskets and ribs from the cookers. Knepp would
not
spoil their first evening shift! Josiah had no time to hunt down the renegade bishop who'd sabotaged his grills, but he could salvage these meats by finishing them in the oven. He'd take his roasted hog inside right away, too, because for all he knew, Knepp was hiding nearby, watching him sweat—or ready to strike again.

“Get the ovens going for me, will you?” he asked Savilla as he began carrying the meat into the kitchen. “We've got a problem—but thank the Lord the pig's done and it's not been messed with.”

Savilla frowned as she set down her knife to turn on the ovens. “What on earth are you talking about? Last time you checked—”

“Seems Knepp thought he could rain on our parade by dousing two of my fires,” Josiah replied. “We should tell Ben and the other men to keep an eye out—but don't breathe a word of this while we're serving dinner. The meat will be fine. No need to get Lena and Miriam and everybody else stirred up.”

Savilla's face had gone as pale as her piecrusts. “Are—are you
sure
he didn't mess with the hog or your other cookers?” she rasped. “If people get sick—”

“I'll check it over real close. If I have the slightest suspicion the meat's not good, we won't serve it.”

“Oh, Josiah.” His sister's face crumpled and she looked ready to cry. “I didn't trust Hiram from the moment I met him, but I never dreamed he might stoop so low as to . . . taint our food.”

“Let's don't assume that before we have to,” he replied, hoping he sounded convincing—and praying he would find no evidence of the pork being unfit to eat. “He
wants
us to worry about that, but we won't let him scare us into leaving Willow Ridge. First thing Monday, I'll buy padlocks for the cookers. Meanwhile, I've got some catch-up cooking to do.”

Josiah carried the rest of his meat into the kitchen and shut the vents on his grills. Once inside, he began turning each brisket and slab of ribs, looking for signs that Hiram had done more than douse the fires.
Lord, I'm going on instinct and Your guidance here
, he prayed as he worked.
Give me a great big obvious sign if something's wrong, because we can't have folks getting sick.

He couldn't recall ever asking for God's assistance as he cooked, yet as Savilla worked alongside him, unwrapping the briskets and checking them, Josiah felt his nerves settling. “See anything suspicious?”

“No. Everything smells fabulous, but—” His sister looked up at him with wide, doelike eyes. “But what if we're just saying that because we don't want to throw away all of this meat or explain to everybody why we won't be open tonight?”

Josiah wrapped an arm around Savilla's shoulders and held her close. “Let's stand here for a moment and see if God puts any ideas in our minds.”

Savilla seemed surprised at his suggestion, but she bowed her head. They stood in the warm, fragrant kitchen for several moments, breathing together . . . dealing with yet another tough decision after making so many of those while they'd been cleaning out the farmhouse. Josiah wondered if this string of difficulties was God's way of saying they'd made one mistake after another when his sister raised her head.

“Let's ask Miriam. If she says we shouldn't take a chance, we'll adjust the price and we won't serve anything but the side dishes tonight,” Savilla said. “Everybody will understand—and they'll appreciate our honesty.”

Josiah nodded. “I'll go talk to her while you finish with your desserts. By that time the hog will be cool enough to cut—or we'll figure out how to dispose of it.”

As he jogged across the road and up the Hooleys' lane, Josiah thought about what questions to ask and what signs he had seen—or hadn't—of Hiram's tampering. Maybe he was making knee-jerk assumptions. Maybe someone else had monkeyed with his cookers.

When he told Miriam what he'd discovered, however, she immediately came to the same conclusion about who was responsible for dousing his fires. As she sat in a recliner with her feet up and an afghan draped over her, her eyes widened with fear and sadness. “My stars, who would've ever believed he would . . . let me think about this,” she said wearily. “You're tellin' me that the big barrel cooker and the gas grills were still burnin' and hot, and that your briskets were still covered with foil the way they were supposed to be?”

“
Jah
. And from what Savilla and I could see and smell, there was no sign of anything having been done to the meat itself,” Josiah recounted. “The ribs were totally cooked and ready to come off the fire.”

“But what if Hiram did somethin' we have no notion of?” Miriam asked in a faraway voice. “What if he tossed somethin' toxic on that pig—or injected it into the meat with a needle, or—well, who knows what wickedness that man might concoct?”

“If he'd tossed anything on the pig, I'm pretty sure I'd see—or smell—a difference in the meat. And throwing something into the cooker would probably make the fire flare up, too, so the pig would be charred,” Josiah reasoned. “But the needle idea bothers me. I inject a mixture of vinegar, salt, and sugar into several places in a hog before I cook it to keep the meat moist. If he found the syringe I threw away this morning—”

“Oh, but that sounds like a disaster waitin' to happen,” Miriam interrupted fearfully. “I'm not eatin' a bite of that meat, Josiah, even though I know ya spent a lot of time and money cookin' it up just right.”

Josiah sighed bleakly. Miriam's instant reaction told him exactly what he should do. “That settles it, then. The money I spent on the meat is nothing compared to what we'd be dealing with if people got sick.”

“I'm so sorry, Josiah. You and Savilla have been workin' real hard.”

As Miriam squirmed in the recliner, trying to get comfortable, Josiah knew he'd never forgive himself if she or anyone else got food poisoning—or worse. “We'll do what Savilla suggested and serve only the side dishes,” he said ruefully. “I'll put a sign on the buffet table about why there's no meat, and think about how to keep this from happening again.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

Oh, I'm still sorry
, Josiah mused as he returned to the Sweet Seasons. He wanted to catch Hiram and force him to eat some of those beautifully grilled ribs or some pulled pork—to see if he refused. But that scenario wasn't going to happen, so he focused on getting ready for the supper shift he'd promised everyone in Willow Ridge. Savilla's side dishes and desserts would simply have to suffice.

Miriam held tightly to Ben's arm as they started down their lane. Enough snow had fallen to make walking tricky, and she was feeling so bulky with the baby that she was off balance. She couldn't recall the last time she'd seen her feet, and she didn't need them to go flying out from under her. It was the thirteenth of December. Andy was saying their child would be born before Christmas—and she was more than ready.

“My stars, would ya look at that line,” she murmured. “I've never had anybody waitin' outside to eat in my café before!”

Ben held her steady with his strong gloved hands. “It's a cryin' shame, what happened to Josiah's cookers,” he said with a disgusted sigh. “Those folks are surely gettin' word about why the buffet table's gonna be limited tonight, yet they're stayin' to eat anyway. I like that about the people around here.”

“I'm thinkin' they'll all be on the lookout for Hiram, too,” Miriam replied.

Ben stopped to lift her chin. “Right now, let's both of us set aside all thoughts of Hiram and how he perturbs us,” he stated gently. “I'm takin' my honey-girl out for supper, happy she doesn't have to cook tonight. We'll enjoy bein' with our friends and we'll be grateful that Josiah and Savilla are off to such a successful start.
Jah?
”

Miriam smiled up at her husband, loving the way his hazel eyes held hers as powerfully as his arms steadied the rest of her. “You've got the best plan, as always, Bennie-bug. I'm so glad I've got ya takin' care of me and this wee one—who's not seemin' very wee anymore,” she said with a chuckle. “I don't recall feelin' this awkward when I was carryin' the three girls. But Andy would've said so if I had more than one in there, don't ya think?”

“Some things remain a mystery until it's time for them to be revealed,” he replied. “They say women forget the pain of their previous pregnancies, so maybe ya just don't recall how ya were feelin' twenty-some years ago.”

“Back when I was the age my triplets are now,” Miriam remarked. Then she laughed. “But if we stand here reviewin' ancient history, we won't get any supper. Let's scoot across the road and—oh, there's Nora and Luke!”

Miriam's spirits lifted immediately when Ben's brother and his new bride waved at them. It appeared that about half the folks waiting in line didn't live in Willow Ridge—and wasn't that something, that so many from other towns had come here tonight?

Nora gestured for them to step in front of her. “You two are going ahead of us, Miriam. But better yet—” The redhead hurried to the front of the line to open the door. “You folks way up toward the buffet table,” she called inside. “Miriam's here! Let's get her and Ben some seats!”

“Miriam! You can squeeze in ahead of me!” someone hollered back.

“Come on in here, you Hooleys!” another diner insisted. “We've got seats at our table!”

“And there ya have it,” Ben remarked as he steered Miriam toward the doorway, where Nora was waving them inside. “Sometimes it pays to be the best cook in Willow Ridge, and everybody's best friend. You and Luke are on my tab tonight, Nora. We'll talk to ya later.”

Miriam's heart danced as folks stepped back to make way for her and Ben to ease between the crowded tables. All along the line folks greeted her, pointing toward the table where Ira Hooley and his fiancée, Millie Glick, were waving wildly, gesturing at two empty chairs between them and Millie's grandparents, Gabe and Wilma. From the looks of the noisy crowd, they were the only two empty seats in the dining room.

“Miriam, you and Ben get yourselves up there to the buffet table,” her sister Leah insisted from near the front of the line.

“That's right, Miriam, there'll be no waiting for you two,” Savilla said as she hurried over to grab their hands. Then she spoke above the chatter. “Folks, let's give a big hand to Miriam and Ben,” she said loudly. “We have them to thank for making this buffet a reality.”

Thunderous applause and cheers filled the dining room. Miriam clutched Ben's hand as her face flashed hot with embarrassed excitement. Even people she'd never met were clapping wildly. Then Josiah came out of the kitchen and raised his hand for silence.

“We're also deeply indebted to Bishops Tom Hostetler and Vernon Gingerich for buying out the entire meat supply at Zook's Market this afternoon when they heard someone had tampered with my grills,” he announced in a solemn voice. “And we thank Vernon's wife Jerusalem and Tom's wife Nazareth, and Lydia Zook and Naomi Brenneman for jumping in to cook it all at the last minute so we'd have something to serve you besides side dishes tonight. I am just
amazed
by such generosity,” he added with a hitch in his voice. “Next time you folks stop by, we'll be serving the Witmer-style barbeque you came for tonight.
Denki
for your patience, and we hope you'll enjoy your meal.”

For a moment an awed silence rang in the dining room. Soon, another round of respectful applause filled the café.

“My stars. Isn't
that
something?” Miriam murmured as she stepped ahead of her sister to take a warm plate. Along with Savilla's wonderful baked beans, potatoes, and vegetables, the steam table's pans were brimming over with sliced pork loin, baked chicken, fried pork chops, and hamburger patties—and Josiah was carrying out a fresh supply of meat that included sizzling T-bones and gravied pot roast. “The news must've traveled mighty fast after Josiah decided he'd better not serve what he'd grilled.”

Ben surveyed the buffet table with wide eyes. “Must've been a little bird who told them,” he murmured. “Sometimes news travels on the wings of the Holy Spirit, and God's helpers step in and take it from there.”

Miriam spooned up creamy mac and cheese and chose a crispy baked chicken thigh, wondering who that little bird had been. But it didn't really matter how word had gotten around. It was the instant response to a potential disaster—and Josiah's loss—that warmed her heart. Folks in Willow Ridge wanted the Witmers to raise Isaiah here, and they'd given an undeniable affirmation that Hiram Knepp's insidious tricks would not overcome the goodness—the love and faith and kindness—they all believed in.

Miriam waved at Lena, who was plating pie at the back kitchen counter while Isaiah snoozed in his basket. Lena waved back, appearing pleased to be helping her brother and Savilla serve this big crowd. Meanwhile, Hannah Brenneman and Katie Zook were bustling between the tables to pour water and coffee while Rebecca bussed tables as folks finished eating.

“It's a
gut
thing the kids decided on a buffet meal and serve-yourself desserts,” she remarked to Ben as she finished filling her plate. “The helpers are havin' to scurry. Makes me glad I'm not in on this new venture.”

Ben chuckled. “Seems ya got out of your café and off your feet just in time, honey-girl. It all works out.”

Miriam squeezed between the crowded tables, greeting the Schrocks, who ran the quilt shop next door. She landed heavily in the chair Ira had pulled out for her. “Can't tell ya how glad I am that ya had a couple of empty seats,” she said as she smiled at Millie and the Glicks. “Can ya believe this crowd?”

“It's fabulous,” Ira agreed before he lowered his voice. “Rumor has it that Hiram was the one messin' with Josiah's cookers. Is that true?”

“Who else would it've been?” Miriam murmured. “We shouldn't go jumpin' to conclusions, but I can't think of another soul who would've even
thought
about such meanness—especially because we caught Hiram peerin' in the window at Lena not long ago,” she continued. “The worst part is that he might've just doused two of the fires and left all the meat alone to get back at Josiah. A bunch of nice brisket, ribs, and a whole roasted hog had to be thrown out, just to be sure nobody got sick.”

“That kind of waste is shameful,” Wilma Glick put in with a scowl. “How do we know what Hiram might do next?”

“And who ever dreamed we'd have to worry about such a thing?” old Gabe said with a shake of his head.

“Josiah has said he'll get padlocks for his grills, but maybe we'd best build another couple of walls around his cookin' area,” Ben remarked as he sat down across from Miriam. “We can make the whole area more secure if ya have to go through the kitchen to get to Josiah's cookers.”

“Let's get the lumber and
do
it,” Ira said as he cut into a thick wedge of cherry pie. “With you and me and Luke workin' at it, we'll have that enclosure up in no time.”

“I'll talk to the Brenneman boys tomorrow after church about some wood,” Ben replied with a nod. “The sooner we let Hiram see that he's not shuttin' down Josiah's business, the sooner he'll leave us be—or at least we can hope so.”

Miriam closed her eyes over a mouthful of cheesy macaroni. It was such a blessing to hear the men in her family working together to help the Witmers after Tom, Vernon, and several of the local women had also come to Josiah's aid today.

Lord, Your spirit's moved amongst us again, and I'm so grateful that we didn't take any chances—and that Josiah didn't have to disappoint all these folks who came here to eat tonight
.

Miriam scraped up the last of her baked beans, wondering if she dared venture over to the dessert table. The baby was shifting and kicking so vigorously, she wasn't sure she should eat anything more—yet Savilla's chocolate pie looked too tempting to ignore. She was ready to scoot her chair back when a pair of slender arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind.

“Mamma, I'm so glad ya made it through this crowd without havin' to wait outside in the cold,” her daughter Rhoda said. “How're ya feelin'?”

Miriam grasped Rhoda's wrists. “Bigger than a barn,” she replied. “And by the way this baby's movin' around at all hours, it'll surely hit the ground runnin' the minute it's born. I'll probably never catch up!”

When Rhoda giggled, Miriam noticed she looked pale—and hoped she hadn't caught a flu bug that might be contagious. “But if the baby's movin' around so much, it's surely healthy, ain't so?” she asked. Then she whispered near Miriam's ear. “I've been busy gettin' to the bathroom or a basin lately, Mamma. How long did you keep throwin' up before ya got past—”

“Rhoda, are ya tellin' me what I think ya are?” Miriam gasped excitedly.

Her daughter hugged her, chuckling. “Andy says I'm probably a couple of months along. Kind of embarrassing that he figured it out before I did.”

Miriam laughed out loud and turned in her chair to hug Rhoda close. “Ya just made my day, honey-bug—my whole week, as a matter of fact!” she said as she looked at the other folks around their table. “It's official! Rhoda and Andy are expandin' their family.”

Millie and Ira clapped their hands as Ben's face lit up. “Congratulations, Rhoda,” he said happily. “A baby's livin' proof that the Lord's workin' amongst us, blessin' us with joy even when other folks try to bring us down. Pretty soon Willow Ridge is gonna need a new population sign on the highway!”

Like a bee to a flower, Rebecca hurried over to grab her sister's hand. “Did I just hear some really good news?”

Rhoda nodded as they slung their arms around each other. “
Jah
, and with Christmas comin', and now a baby, Taylor and Brett are twinklin' like that star ya made us for the live Nativity last year.”

“As well they should be,” Rebecca said. “And speaking of that, I've washed the costumes. Teacher Alberta thinks tomorrow after church would be a good time for a fitting, and to decide who will play which roles this year.”

“I'm so glad Bishop Tom's lettin' us do that again,” Millie spoke up. “Lizzie's Ella is hopin' to be an angel. All the younger kids are so excited that they don't have to be scholars to play a part.”

“We drew such a crowd last year, I believe we blessed Plain and English folks alike,” Ben chimed in. “We'll soon have enough school-age kids to do our Christmas Eve program at the schoolhouse again, but for now, I'm pleased that my barn will be the setting for another live Nativity.”

Miriam listened, her hand on her undulating belly. She had a pretty good idea that—for one reason or another—she wouldn't be standing outside singing carols and watching the pageant this year. And that suited her just fine.