A Child's Christmas Wish. Erica Vetsch

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СКАЧАТЬ is our home. We will rebuild.”

      Kate looked at Grossvater over the old woman’s head, noting the strain in his eyes. Where would the money to rebuild come from?

      Martin patted his wife’s hand. “For now, we need to milk the cows. They are setting up their chorus.”

      Down by the barn, the herd of ten Brown Swiss bovines stood near the door, and from time to time a plaintive moo sounded. At the gate on the other side of the barn, four crossbred heifer calves nosed one another, tails swishing, ready for breakfast.

      “Climb aboard, Poppet.” Oscar shouldered his way into the contraption Liesl had brought to him in the house, and it arranged itself into a sort of pack. He crouched, and the little girl grasped the straps and threaded her legs into the correct places, facing backward and sitting in a little webbed seat on her father’s back. Oscar stood carefully and looked over his shoulder. “All set?”

      “Yep.” Her small boots swung, and she grinned.

      Kate stared.

      Oscar shrugged, gently, so as not to unseat Liesl. “She’s been riding in this since she was two. I couldn’t leave her alone in the house while I worked, so I made this.”

      Grossvater let the cows into the barn, and creatures of habit that they were, they each went to their own stall. Kate took her milking stool from its peg on the wall, and Grossmutter gathered the buckets they had cleaned and put away before going to church last night. While Grossvater fed the cows, Kate started at the far end with the milking.

      All the cows were named after Swiss cantons and towns—Grossvater’s choice. Saint Gallens, Zug, Geneva, Lucerne, Berne... Kate knew each one well. The barn smelled of hay and cows and milk and dust. Light came in the high windows and the open door at the end, and she rested her cheek against Jura’s warm side, falling into the steady milking rhythm, hearing the milk zing into the bucket, the tone changing as the level rose. Soon, Grossvater began milking the cows on the other side of the aisle, and farther down, she heard Liesl’s voice, chatting with her father as he, too, milked cows.

      Grossmutter patted Kate on the shoulder. “I will go to the cheese house and brush and turn the cheeses.”

      “We won’t be long here. We’ll put the milk in the springhouse. I won’t worry about cooking another batch of cheese today.” Kate finished with Jura and picked up the heavy bucket of warm, foamy milk.

      She took it down the barn to where clean, empty milk cans sat on the handcart Grossvater used to take milk down to the springhouse. The cows were giving less milk now. In high summer, each cow gave several gallons of milk every day, and Kate made a new batch of cheese every couple of days throughout the summer. But now they gave less than half the summer amount, and she could store the milk for a few days before making a batch of cheese.

      “Let me do that. You shouldn’t be toting such heavy things.” Oscar took the bucket, lifting it easily and pouring it into the open can.

      Liesl twisted over his shoulder and waved. “Daddy, can I get down?”

      “Not just yet, Poppet. Wait until we’re done in the barn.”

      “Mr. Rabb, I appreciate your help, but I’m not helpless.” Kate took the bucket to go to the next cow.

      “No, you’re not helpless, but you are in a delicate way.” His face reddened a bit, and Kate’s warmed.

      “The work must be done.” Not that she had always been the milkmaid. Making cheese was one thing, but barn work another. Johann hadn’t liked her in the barn doing what he considered a man’s chores. He had always been the herdsman, but after his death, Kate had needed to do more work about the farm. Grossvater couldn’t do it alone.

      She’d been feeling overwhelmed with the farm work already. In a couple of months, after the baby was born, how would she be able to get everything done? At least the baby was coming in the winter, when farm work slowed down, but Martin and Inge weren’t getting any younger, and there would be another mouth to feed. Would they be able to keep up with all that the farm required? And how could they get the money together to rebuild the house? Everything was so costly, and their savings were meager. Last spring, Johann had spent a fair amount of their savings buying a Brown Swiss bull to improve his herd.

      It was that bull that had caused the accident that had cost Johann his life.

      Now the bull was gone and so was the money.

      Kate’s shoulders bowed under the burden, and she tried hard to hold on to Grossvater’s faith-filled prayer.

      God, help me find a way.

      * * *

      Oscar let Liesl climb out of the carrier. “Stay where I can see you, and don’t go near where the fire was.”

      “Yes, Daddy.” She went to the gate where the calves had their heads down munching the hay Martin Amaker had forked over the fence. Rolf, her shadow, went with her, tail wagging gently, eyes alert.

      A wagon rolled into the yard, and Per Schmidt climbed down from the high seat. “Guten Morgen.” He surveyed the charred remains of the house, sweeping his hat off his head when the Amaker ladies came out of the barn toward him.

      “Morning.” Oscar began a slow circuit of the burned-out area, but he could see nothing in the ashes to salvage. Bits of bent metal, puddles of melted glass, bricks fallen from the chimney, but nothing worth saving.

      “Dere is not much left.” Per followed him. “Vat are dey going to do? Do dey haff family to help?”

      He didn’t know. Oscar glanced over to check on Liesl and found that Kate had helped her climb the gate to look over at the calves. Kate stood behind the little girl, holding her safely, their heads together.

      Which reminded him of how easily she’d brushed and braided Liesl’s hair this morning—a task he usually struggled with—and how seeing the two of them together like that had been a kick to his middle. He’d been surprised at how quickly Liesl had warmed to having strangers in the house and to Kate in particular.

      And now Liesl wanted a baby for a Christmas present. He wasn’t really worried about this, because she changed her mind every day. Tomorrow she would want a doll pram or a kitten or new hair ribbons.

      “I saw Prediger Tipford coming down the road. He vill be here soon.”

      Oscar hoped so. Surely by now Pastor Tipford had come up with a plan for the Amakers, a better place for them to stay until they could rebuild.

      Martin Amaker came out of the barn slowly pulling the milk cart. Oscar nodded to Per and went down the path.

      “Let me help.” He took the handle of the cart. “To the springhouse?”

      “Yes. Thank you, son. Milking is heavy work, is it not?” Martin tugged a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his brow. “Though I must confess, everything seems heavier today.”

      Oscar made short work of storing the milk. The springhouse, built over a diverted part of Millikan Creek, was damp and cold. A row of milk cans stood along the back wall, and Oscar added the two from the cart.

      He tried to imagine Martin and Kate doing the heavy work of the farm all alone СКАЧАТЬ