A Christmas Haven by Cindy Woodsmall & Erin Woodsmall

Author:Cindy Woodsmall & Erin Woodsmall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2019-09-23T16:00:00+00:00

Eleven

The July night air was thick with humidity as Arlan descended the carriage house steps. The sounds of summertime filled the air: cicadas, tree frogs, crickets, and an incessant mockingbird. But Arlan was used to the season’s hot weather and the critters’ chorus drifting through the open windows. No, the bugs, birds, and frogs weren’t what had kept him awake in the middle of the night.

He walked to the closest barbed-wire fence and peered into the pasture. All the clutter in his mind moved to a single conversation he’d had with Betty eighteen hours ago. She’d asked him to stay on until mid-December, saying she needed his help for two reasons: to free up her time so she could focus on preparing for Holly’s wedding and to get the homestead ready to host hundreds of guests for the daylong event in December.

He’d taken that opportunity to do as Ivy had asked and talk to Betty about the workload of increasing the herd. She’d nodded and thanked him, but he wasn’t at all sure she took any of it to heart. She’d offered him thirty percent of the milking profits if he continued doing repairs and other chores throughout each day as he’d been doing.

And he’d accepted. Why? Why was he still here? It’d been almost four weeks since the wreck, and he didn’t know if Magda would be ready to go home even by mid-December, but leaving by then was his goal because now he’d given his word he’d stay. Had the money lured him? Or the freedom this place afforded Magda and him? Or the fact that a widow’s firstborn was marrying and she needed his help?

How would he explain to his parents that he’d stayed here until mid-December? The Old Order had a lot going for them, which totally messed with his mind. They weren’t as skilled at obeying God as the Swartzentrubers, but they worked hard, dressed modestly, and, despite all he’d been taught, he’d seen no sign of them drinking or partying.

Thoughts of his parents were like heavy weights inside his head. It seemed they weren’t as godly as he’d believed all these years. Even so, he still wanted to return home with Magda as soon as possible, repent before the church, and move to New York.

His stomach rumbled. Confusion must stir the appetite the same as working hard. Betty had made a cake, and he’d had a small slice after dinner. He’d wanted a second piece, but Ivy had been there, so he’d left as quickly as he could. She was opinionated, and since his goal was to be a good guest and keep his thoughts to himself, it seemed wise to avoid her. He walked toward the house. It was pitch black, and she had to be asleep by now.

Betty never locked the doors, so he eased into the kitchen and with the moonlight could see well enough to cut a piece of cake and put it on a plate. He got a fork and dug into the sugary delight.

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