A Hope Springs Christmas. Patricia Davids

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ wished he hadn’t promised Jonas he would look after her when his friend was gone. That promise, made on Jonas’s deathbed, was a binding one Levi could not break. Not if he planned to face Jonas in heaven one day.

      Levi’s gaze traveled to the colorful calendar on the shop wall. It was out of date by several years, but he’d never taken it down. His Amish religion didn’t allow artwork or pictures to decorate walls, but a calendar had function and even one with a pretty picture was permitted. The one he never removed featured a panoramic view of the Rocky Mountains.

      The dusty eight-by-ten photograph showed snow-capped mountains thrusting upward to reach a clear blue sky. Their flanks lay covered with thick forests of pine, aspen trees and spruce. It had long been Levi’s dream to move to Colorado. Several of his cousins from the next village had moved to a new settlement out west and wrote in glowing terms of the beauty there. The idea of raising a family of his own in such a place was a dream he nurtured deep in his heart.

      Colorado was his goal, but Sarah Wyse was the rope keeping him firmly tethered to Hope Springs.

      He had loved Jonas Wyse like a brother. When his friend pleaded with him to watch over Sarah until she remarried, Levi had given his promise without hesitation. A year or so wasn’t much to wait. The mountains weren’t going anywhere.

      It wasn’t until Sara remained unmarried for two years that Levi began to doubt the wisdom of making his rash promise. Five years later he was still turning out buggies in Hope Springs and handing over rent money to help support her while his dreams of moving west gathered dust like the calendar on the wall.

      He knew several good men who had tried to court Sarah, but she had turned each and every one of them aside. Levi had to admit none of them held a candle to his dear friend. But still, a woman Sarah’s age should be married with children.

      The thought of her with another man’s babe in her arms brought an uncomfortable ache in his chest. He thrust aside thoughts of Sarah and replaced them with worry about his sister.

      He hoped Grace was all right. He should go see, but he didn’t know what to say to her. Women didn’t think like men. Whatever he said would be sure to make her angry or make her cry. Perhaps it would be best to stay in the shop and wait until she called him for supper.

      Half an hour later, he heard Sarah’s aunt’s buggy drive away. He went to the window and looked out. Sarah was alone again, as she was every night. She sat at her kitchen table working on some stitching. Why hadn’t she remarried? What was she waiting for?

      She was a devout Amish woman. She wasn’t too old. She was certainly pretty enough. She kept a good house and worked hard. When the buggy shop needed repairs or upgrades he couldn’t do himself, she was never stingy about hiring help or buying new equipment.

      As he was looking out the window, he saw his sister approaching. He picked up a file to finish smoothing the edge of a metal step he was repairing.

      Grace opened the door. “Bruder, your supper is ready.”

      “Danki, I’ll be in shortly.” He glanced up. His sister didn’t leave. Instead, she walked along the workbench, looking over the parts he was assembling for a new buggy. She clearly had something on her mind. When she didn’t speak, he asked, “Is everything okay?”

      Her chin came up. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

      Because you were screaming at your boyfriend at the top of your lungs on a public street and giving our neighbors food for gossip. “Just wondering, that’s all.”

      “Levi, can I ask you a question?”

      He didn’t like the sound of that. “Sure.”

      “Why haven’t you married?”

      That took him aback. “Me?”

      “Ja. Why haven’t you?”

      Heat rushed to his face. He cleared his throat. “Reckon I haven’t met the woman God has in mind for me.”

      “God wants each of us to find the person who makes us happy, doesn’t He?” Grace fell silent.

      Levi glanced up from his work to find her staring out the window at Sarah’s house. Because her question so closely mirrored his thoughts about Sarah, he gathered his courage and asked, “Why do you think Sarah Wyse hasn’t remarried?”

      “Because she loved one man with her whole heart and her whole soul and she knows no one can replace him,” Grace declared with a passion that astounded him.

      She suddenly rushed toward the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Your supper is on the table.”

      “Where are you going?”

      “I need to talk to Sarah about something.”

      When the door banged shut behind her, he sighed. It was just like his sister to leave him in the dark about what was going on. He hoped Sarah could help because the last thing he wanted was a home in turmoil, and unless Grace was happy, that was exactly what was going to happen.

      * * *

      After her aunt had gone, Sarah stared at the snow piled on the sill of her kitchen window. Dismal. There was no other word for it. Christmas would be here in less than a month, but there wasn’t any joy in the knowledge. The Christmas seasons of the past had brought her only heartache and the long winter nights left her too much time to remember. At least this year her only loss was her job. So far.

      She closed her eyes and folded her hands. “Please, Lord, keep everyone I love safe and well this year.”

      Second thoughts about inviting her brother for a visit crowded into her mind. He was all she had left of her immediate family. At times, it seemed that everyone she loved suffered and died before their time. What if something should befall Vernon or his wife or children while they were here? How would she forgive herself?

      No, such thinking only showed her lack of faith. It is not in my hands, but in Your hands, Lord.

      Still, she couldn’t shake a feeling of foreboding.

      She opened her eyes and propped her chin on her hand as she stared at the notebook page in front of her. The kerosene lamp overhead cast a warm glow on the mending pile and the sheet of paper where she had compiled a list of things to do.

      Clean the house.

      Mend everything torn or frayed.

      Make two new kapps.

      Stitch the border on my new quilt.

      She had already finished the first item and was on to the second. They were all things she could do in a week or less and she had a lot more time on her hands than a mere week. Spring seemed a long way off. Inviting Vernon and his family was one way to help fill the days.

      She added three more items to her list.

      Don’t be bored.

      Don’t be sad.

      Don’t go insane.

      Six days a week for nearly five years she had gone in early to open the fabric store and closed up after СКАЧАТЬ