Christmas Traditions-An Amish Love Story by Fay Risner

Author:Fay Risner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, family, christmas, historical, amish, wholesome
Publisher: Fay Risner

Chapter 10

A rooster crowed loud and repeatedly, rudely waking Margaret. She couldn’t tell how late it was, but she was pretty sure that rooster was on Yoder time not hers. She suspected the sun had been up for a while from the look of the room’s blazing brightness. Surprised that she slept as well as she did, Margaret anxiously pulled clean under clothes out of her valise. She had to get downstairs and find out if there was any more news about Maggie. If the girl escaped consumption, it would be a miracle. She prayed that the girl stayed well and Jacob, too.

When she threw a clean slip and dress over her head, she groaned at the aches her fast movements aggravated. She must be getting old. Ice skating didn’t use to bother her, but then she stayed on her feet better in past years. She was painfully stiff in her right knee, but at least she could walk on her feet even though she felt chilled to the bone yet from lying flat on the ice. She didn’t know for how long, but it seemed forever while Jacob and she pulled the girl out of the water. This morning, poor, brave Jacob had to be suffering the effects of exposure as much as she was. Age had nothing to do with a person’s health problems after being exposed to winter elements.

She glanced out the window and wished she’d brought her watch brooch after all. Sometimes, she felt she went overboard with worry when she packed, trying to anticipate what might upset Levi. To her that watch brooch was a necessity so she would know the time. To Levi Yoder it was an expensive, English temptation. Now she was lost, not knowing the time. She made a mental note that on the next visit, if there was a next visit, she'd bring her watch no matter what Levi said.

Grabbing the brush from her valise, she flattened her hair back and down, hoping she hit every stray that had pasted together and froze when the creek water splashed on her. In her haste to leave Brightwell, she’d forgotten her hand mirror. Without a mirror to look in, she did the best she could. She hoped her effort was good enough to keep her from looking like a bed headed scarecrow.

Grabbing her red shawl from the nail next to her dresses, Margaret hurried downstairs and through the meeting room. The warmth in the cookstove heated kitchen felt good. Just as she thought. She must be the last one up. The fire sizzled and crackled, ready to start breakfast. The tea kettle hissed and steamed. The two larger sets of boots were missing and the coat nails above empty. The men must be at the chores, but Luke’s boots still set under his coat. He wasn’t up yet.

Margaret looked around the kitchen for her cape. It wasn’t there. Perhaps the men threw it away. It was in bad shape, dirty and torn by the fence.

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