Winter of Wishes (31 page)

Andy focused on Megan then, feeling a sudden calm . . . a strength he welcomed after
this past hour’s confusion and strife. “Megan, I didn’t contest it when you left us,
nor did I challenge you when you admitted you’d been seeing another man before you
demanded a divorce,” he said quietly. “But if you think you can charge back into our
lives and destroy the happiness we’ve found—the solidarity we’ve developed as a family—I
will fight you tooth and nail. You don’t have a legal leg to stand on,” he reminded
her coolly. “Never mind your total lack of concern for the kids when you left us for
another man. A fancier lifestyle.”

Megan appeared stunned by the intensity of his stare and Officer McClatchey’s. Finally
she rested her head in her hand. “But he sounded so . . . persuasive. So genuinely
concerned for the kids,” she murmured. “Justin told me I should fly out here and bring
them back with me.”

“Admit it,” Andy insisted, closing his eyes against all the memories her appearance
had kicked up. The way his gut was rolling, it felt like the bad old days when they
had argued so bitterly . . . when it had been a relief for her to go on business trips.
“Aren’t you secretly relieved to learn that your children are happy and healthy? And
that you don’t need to inconvenience yourself by taking them into your new life?”

Resentment flickered in her eyes, but rather than fling more verbal mud at him, Megan
reached for her purse again. “I can see I’m outnumbered here—outmanned—”

“No one’s forcing you to back down, Ms. Zylinsky,” the policeman pointed out. “If
you prefer to hire an attorney and pursue this matter, that’s certainly your right.
Meanwhile, I’m glad your children didn’t have to witness this unpleasant conversation.”

“Oh! And they’re still out in the car,” Andy said as he rose from his chair. “They
must be freezing—”

“I’ll go with you. Say my good-byes and head on back to the airport,” Megan muttered.
Then she let out an unladylike snort. “This whole idea about you turning Amish is
as ridiculous as your getting a
nursing
degree, but hey. Why should I care, right? If you’re all so enamored of Rhoda and
her type, I should leave you to your ignorance. My mistake, thinking I could save
you from your delusions.”

Andy watched her go outside, confident the kids would do no more than roll down the
car windows.

“What a piece of work,” the policeman muttered.

“Can’t thank you enough for your support,” Andy said as he offered his hand. “You
and Mom really saved the day. I saw plane tickets in Megan’s purse. She was ready
to whisk the kids out of here without me knowing a thing about it.”

“Wish all my calls got resolved so easily,” the officer said as he headed for the
door. “I’ll stick around writing my report in the car until she’s gone.”

Andy shrugged. “I have to move my car from behind hers. I hope I can repair all the
confusion and damage this stunt has inflicted on my kids.”

When Andy looked outside to see that Megan was already behind the wheel of her van,
something settled inside him. Could it be that once again she hadn’t told her children
good-bye . . . much less that she loved them? He sighed, then fished his keys from
his pocket. He had a lot of questions to answer, a lot of wounds to heal. His kids’
anxious expressions stabbed at him as he backed his car from the driveway and watched
Megan race off down the street.

“What happened, Dad? What did Mom say?” Taylor asked as she wiped her face with her
coat sleeve.

“That was awful.” Brett heaved a shuddery sigh. “I want to talk to Rhoda,
now
. I want to go back to how things were before Mom tried to—to kidnap us.”

“Best idea I’ve heard all day, Son. Let’s get Gram and go.”

“What if Andy’s ex-wife has taken off with the kids?” Rhoda fretted. “It’ll look like
my fault, for sure and for certain, because I didn’t stick around to—”

“Oh, Sister, I can’t picture Andy blaming you for that.” Rebecca stopped unpacking
to wrap her arms around Rhoda’s shaking shoulders, as Rachel stepped up to hug her
from behind.

“This looks worse than it really is, I’m thinkin’,” Rachel assured her. “The way Andy
has eyes only for you, Rhoda, it’ll take more than a
woman
to chase him outta your life.”

Rhoda wiped her eyes on her dress sleeve, wanting to believe her sisters. Mamma and
Ben had gone to Clark to visit cousins who couldn’t make it to the wedding, so the
dawdi haus
, cluttered with Rebecca’s boxes and sparse furnishings, echoed with their voices
. . . sounding as unsettled as her heart. She could think of a dozen comebacks for
Megan’s cruel remarks now, but she disliked the way she felt as such spiteful, vengeful
phrases formed in her mind. It wasn’t her way to strike back when someone challenged
her.

“I’ll put on some water for cocoa, and we can help Rebecca unpack,” Rachel suggested.
“It’s better than gnashin’ at the bit, when we don’t know all the facts about—well,
would you looky there,” she said as she glanced out the front window. “Could be your
prayers’ll soon be answered, Sister.”

Rhoda thumbed away her lingering tears and peeked through the new curtains. Oh, but
her heart played hopscotch when she saw Andy’s car pull in. Better yet, the kids jumped
out before their
dat
shut off the engine.

“Rhoda! Rhoda the Reindeer! We’re here to see ya!” Brett called out.

“Gram ate all your cookies,” Taylor joined in. “So we’ve come for more!”

Rhoda rushed out the door. She was giggling at the notion that Betty had finished
off all those frosted sugar cookies while Megan had been antagonizing them. When the
two children rushed into her arms, she crushed them in a hug, rocking them from side
to side. Had anyone ever looked or felt so good as these two?

“Silly gooses,” she teased, gazing into their bright eyes. “Your gram wouldn’t eat
that many—”

“Oh, I . . . cleared the plate,” Betty assured her. She was taking Andy’s arm as she
got out of the car, a girlish smile lighting her face. “Shared them with the ambulance
crew—”

“Yeah, Gram called 9-1-1 just in time!” Taylor crowed.

“And it was so cool when the sirens were cryin’ and the fire truck stopped right in
front of
our yard
!” Brett added gleefully.

Rhoda laughed at this lively account, yet when her eyes found Andy’s she stilled.
His dear face showed such concern—for
her
. He looked so happy to be here after the disaster that had shattered his day.

“Rhoda, I’m very, very sorry,” he murmured as he took her in his arms. He pressed
her head to his chest with a tired sigh. “I never dreamed Megan would show up with
such cockeyed ideas about—well, if she insulted you, I apologize.”

As the kids took their grandmother inside, Rhoda let out a long breath. “I was so
worried that if I left them, she might really take them away. And then you’d be blamin’
me
for what happened.” She raised her eyes to his. “What
did
happen, Andy? Why’d she show up feelin’ so full of vinegar?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea, but I’m hoping you and your sisters can confirm my hunch.”
He stepped inside the
dawdi haus
with her and gazed appreciatively at the freshly painted walls and gleaming woodwork.
“What a great place. Hey there, Rachel and Rebecca.”

“Mighty
gut
to see ya, Andy,” Rachel answered from the stove, where she was putting the kettle
on. “Rhoda was plenty worried about these two kids of yours.”

“And they were worried about her. We all were.” He smiled at the way Taylor, Brett,
and his mother were admiring the apartment as they stepped between the open boxes
of Rebecca’s belongings. He pulled a sheet of paper from his coat pocket. “What do
you make of this letter? This, and a couple of phone calls, had my ex flying out here
in a tizzy, ready to haul my kids back to California.”

Rhoda took the typed page and began to read it with a sister looking over each of
her shoulders.

Rhoda’s head swiveled. She couldn’t read any further. “So Megan’s last name is Zylinsky
now?” she rasped.

“She went back to her maiden name after she divorced me,” Andy replied quietly.

“This smacks of Hiram’s mudslingin’,” Rachel muttered. “He always uses his hundred-dollar
vocabulary when he’s up to somethin’, too. Don’t ya remember how he called Ben’s old
girlfriend in Lancaster County to stir up the pot, tryin’ to make Mamma think she
shouldn’t marry him?”

“Hiram?” Rhoda gasped. “But how would he know Megan’s name, or her address?”

“A name like Zylinsky would be very easy to track down with a computer,” Rebecca remarked
as she finished reading the letter. “It’s a matter of public record that she and Andy
divorced. So once Hiram or his computer assistant found her name, he could have looked
up her address and phone number on white pages dot com, or used an online people-finding
service.”

Rhoda shook her head. “I’m a lot better off not knowin’ how all this modern computer
stuff works.”

Rachel, meanwhile, was pointing to the bottom of the page. “For sure and for certain
that’s Hiram,” she declared. “That same signature is on our marriage certificate.”

Swallowing hard, Rhoda had to agree that the name on Megan’s letter matched their
former bishop’s handwriting. She, too, had signed Rachel’s certificate, after all.
“And we all know how convincin’ he can sound when he’s tryin’ to talk ya into something,”
she remarked. “But when will his nasty tricks end? What if he keeps on tormentin’
us, Andy? Gettin’ the kids and Betty all upset while he’s tryin’ to keep us apart?”

“Keep us apart? That’s not going to happen as long as I draw breath, Rhoda.”

When Andy wrapped his arms around her again, Rhoda felt his pulse beating in time
with hers as his confident voice rumbled in his chest. He reminded her of the sweet-gum
tree behind the Sweet Seasons, strong and solid. Able to withstand the storms and
harsh realities of whatever their courtship and the changing of his faith brought
their way.

“I’m going to call that carriage maker in Cedar Creek today to talk about my special
wagon,” he assured her. “Something tells me that’ll be the key to my new nursing service.”

“Dad says you’ve gotten another twenty-five thousand from Miriam’s ad, plus more donations
from the locals,” Rebecca said. “Clearly, everyone wants you and your clinic here.”

“And Hiram’s headin’ off to Higher Ground,” Rachel said. “He’ll be too busy recruitin’
folks to bother ya much, ain’t so? Nobody from Willow Ridge is goin’ with him, so
he’ll be startin’ up that new colony with a bunch of strangers who don’t know what
he’s up to.”

Surrounded by these loving smiles and gentle voices, Rhoda relaxed. What a wonderful
world she lived in. And hadn’t Jesus promised that all things were possible with God?
As four shorter arms wrapped around her waist, Rhoda delighted in the way Brett and
Taylor embraced her while Betty stood behind her, hands on her shoulders.

“We weren’t goin’ to California with Mom, you know,” Brett assured her. “While Dad
had us locked up safe in his car, Tay and I came up with all sorts of ways to escape
before she got us on a plane.”

“Yeah,” Taylor stated. “Once Mom said all those mean things about you, Rhoda, I—I
didn’t feel like she was our mom anymore. Not like you are.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Rhoda blinked back tears, but these were the kind that welled up when she
was so full of joy that it spilled over. As she pulled the kids closer, smiling up
at Andy, it occurred to her that not so long ago she had been wondering what to do
with her life, wishing for the love and fulfillment she thought had passed her by.

Well, here they were. Another gift from God, come down at Christmas.

Because I love to cook as much as Miriam and Naomi do, here are recipes for some of
the dishes they’ve served up in
Winter of Wishes
, as well as some that Rhoda makes for Andy’s kids. I read Amish cookbooks and the
recipe column in
The Budget
, so I can say yes, the convenience foods you see as ingredients are authentic!

 

Colder weather calls for stick-to-your-ribs soups and comfort foods—and for me it
wouldn’t be Christmas without cookies! I make hundreds of dozens of cookies to share
for the holidays each year, and most of these are favorites I bake again and again.
For an even larger selection of goodies, you’ll want my upcoming anthology,
An Amish Country Christmas
, which will include a recipe section of nothing but my favorite cookies and holiday
desserts!

 

I’ll also post these recipes on my website,
www.CharlotteHubbardAuthor.com
. If you don’t see the recipes you want, please e-mail me via my website to request
them—and let me know how you like them! I hope you enjoy making these dishes as much
as I do!