Amish Christmas Twins and Her Amish Christmas Choice by Patricia Davids

Author:Patricia Davids
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-08-26T17:21:43+00:00

* * *

Martin stood inside the building supply store and gazed at the stacks of two-by-fours he intended to buy. Wearing his heavy leather gloves, he lifted several boards onto his flat cart and thought about the woman who had just hired him.

Julia Rose was pretty, with a small upturned nose, a stubborn chin and soft brown eyes that showed intelligence and an eagerness to succeed but also a bit of self-doubt. With her russet hair pulled back in a long ponytail and no makeup, she looked almost Amish. But not in the blue jeans and shirt she was wearing. And most definitely not without the white organdy prayer kapp that all Amish women wore.

She was Englisch. A woman of the world. Yet, Martin couldn’t help admiring her spunk. The way she’d stood on that rickety ladder and gripped the hammer told him she was determined. In fact, she reminded him of his mamm, who had raised six children and still worked beside his daed after twenty-eight years, doing whatever needed to be done without complaint.

“Whatcha gonna make?” Hank asked in Deitsch, the German dialect his Amish people used among themselves.

Martin turned and found his brother standing beside him. He was as sweet and sincere as they came. The Amish only went to school through the eighth grade. Now that Hank was too old for that, Martin had taken him under his wing. Both his parents tended to lose their patience with Hank and his penchant for getting into trouble, but Martin had deep compassion for his younger brother and had recently started taking the boy with him.

“Remember, we’re making a porch overhang for Rose Soapworks?” Martin said.

“Ja, that’s right. I remember now,” Hank said, his thick voice filled with a happy lilt. Nothing seemed to ruffle the boy’s feathers. He was always in a good mood.

Pushing his cart, Martin headed toward the aisle where sheets of metal siding were stacked in tidy order. He was careful not to buy too much. He’d been pleasantly surprised when Julia Rose had told him to come pick out the supplies he would need and he didn’t want to betray her trust.

“Julia’s gonna like the porch we make, huh, Mar-tin?” Hank said, speaking his name as if it were two words.

“Ja, I hope so. But you should call her Miss Rose.”

“How come? I like her name. Julia. Julia. Julia,” Hank repeated in his heavy staccato voice.

“It’s not good manners for you to call her by her first name. She’s a grown woman and you’re still a youth. It’s proper for you to call her Miss Rose.” Martin stepped past the boy, pushing his cart as he went.

With dogged determination, Hank hurried after him. “I like her last name, too. Rose. Rose. Rose. How come she’s got two first names?”

“I don’t know but Rose is her last name.” Martin didn’t try to overexplain as he rounded the corner and quickly filled a paper sack with nails and lag bolts. He was used to his brother’s incessant chatter and didn’t let it bother him.

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