Amish Christmas Twins. Patricia Davids

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СКАЧАТЬ blond hair. Some man was fortunate to have such handsome children and a lovely wife to come home to at night.

      She placed a hand on each little girl’s head in a comforting or perhaps protective gesture, her fingers moving gently through their hair. She raised her chin as she faced him.

      The gesture reminded him of his wife, Katie, and sent a painful pang through his chest. Katie used to give him that exact look when she was determined to do things her own way. The woman at the roadside wasn’t physically similar to his wife. She was tiny where Katie had been tall and willowy. She was fair where Katie had been dark, but the two women shared the same stubborn set to their chins and the same determination in their eyes. He smiled in spite of himself.

      Katie would have been a good mother, too...if only she had lived.

      He shut away his heartbreaking memories. Katie May was gone, their unborn child laid to rest with her. It had been four years since their passing, but his grief was as sharp as if it had been yesterday. Most folks thought he had moved on with his life. He’d tried to, but he couldn’t forgive God or himself for her death.

      He looked away from the young woman and her children. “I don’t know him. I’m not from this area.”

      Realizing how gruff his voice sounded, he gestured to the tarp on the flatbed wagon behind him. It had taken him eight weeks to restore the sleigh and two days to haul it this far. He was anxious to drop it off and head home. “I’m delivering this sleigh to Melvin Taylor. The directions he sent said he lived four miles south of this intersection. Does that help?”

      Her face brightened. “I remember Melvin. He lived a half mile south of Grandfather’s farm. We can find our way now. Thank you. Come on, girls.” She repositioned the backpack on her shoulder and took each girl by the hand as she started down the road.

      John didn’t urge his horses to move. A three-and-a-half-mile walk was a lot to ask of such small children, and the woman if she was pregnant. It would be dark before they arrived at their destination. The mid-November day had been pleasant so far, but it would get cold when the sun started to go down.

      He didn’t normally concern himself with the affairs of the Englisch, but something about this young woman kept him from driving away. Maybe it was the worry he had glimpsed on her face when he first saw her, or how she spoke so caringly to her girls. Perhaps it was the way she squared her shoulders, looking as if she carried a great weight upon them. He didn’t know what it was, but he couldn’t leave without offering her assistance.

      Maybe it was because she reminded him of Katie.

      This is foolish. They’ll be fine on their own. An Amish family wouldn’t think twice about walking that far.

      However, an Amish mother and her children would be properly dressed with heavy coats and sturdy shoes. The thin white shoes on this woman’s feet didn’t look as if they would last a mile. He sighed heavily and urged his team forward to catch up with her.

      He pulled his horses to a halt beside her. “It’s a long walk, frau. I can give you a lift. I’m going in the same direction.”

      She stopped walking and eyed him with obvious indecision. “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

      “It’s no trouble.” It was, but it would trouble him more to leave her.

      “We’ll be fine.” She started walking again.

      Stubborn woman. “It will be dark before you get there. The kinder, the children, already look tired.”

      She glanced at her girls and then at him. “You’re right, they are tired. It was a long bus ride from...home.” Her gaze slid away from his.

      He didn’t care where she was from or why she didn’t want to share that information. The more time he spent reasoning with her, the longer his client would be waiting. He leaned toward her. “Then hand the children up to me and save them a long walk.”

      She hesitated, chewing on the corner of her lower lip.

      Exasperated, he was ready to leave her and get on with his journey. “You’ll be safe with me, frau, if that is what worries you.”

      “That’s exactly what a serial killer would say.”

      He scowled at her but noticed the twinkle in her eyes as she tried to hide a smile. “Are you teasing me?”

      She grinned. “I was trying to, but I fear I have offended you.”

      The Englisch were a strange lot. “I take no offense. Give over your kinder.”

      He took each child she lifted to him and settled them on the bench seat, knowing he would likely be sorry for his generosity before long. The children would whine and cry, and the woman would probably talk his ear off. He offered her his hand.

      A blush stained her cheeks rosy pink. “I’m not as light as the girls.”

      He almost laughed at the absurd notion that she was too heavy to lift. “I can get you up here without undue effort...unless your pockets are full of bricks. Are they?”

      A smile twitched at the corner of her lips. “They aren’t, but you may think so.”

      Her sweet expression pulled a chuckle from him in return. “I doubt that.”

      She slipped her hand in his. Her fingers were soft and dainty compared to his big calloused paw. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to hold a woman’s hand, how it made a man feel strong and protective. Gazing into her upturned face, he was drawn to the humor lingering in her blue eyes. Sunlight glinted on her hair as the breeze tugged at her curls. He easily pulled her up to the wagon seat. The delicate scent of jasmine reached him. Was it her perfume?

      Amish women never wore perfume. It was considered worldly to do so and was thus forbidden, but the fragrance of this young woman reminded John of summer evenings spent on his grandmother’s porch as the bees hummed around the hanging plants she had cherished. Perhaps he would buy a plant in the spring to remind him of his grandmother and of this young mother.

      He slowly released her hand and forced himself to concentrate on his horses. “Walk on, Jake. Get along, Pete.”

      * * *

      Willa Chase glanced from under her lashes at the man beside her. Her Amish Good Samaritan had amazing strength. He had lifted her pregnant bulk with one hand as easily as he had lifted her three-year-old daughters. Seated beside him, she felt dwarfed by his size, but, oddly, he didn’t intimidate her. He had spoken gruffly at first, but there was a gentle kindness beneath his teasing that put her at ease.

      It was an unusual feeling for her. Before her husband died, he had taught her not to be the trusting sort. Perhaps she’d made an exception because this man was Amish. She had been Amish once, too. A very long time ago. To keep her children safe, she would become Amish again. Then Willa Chase and her daughters would disappear forever.

      “I like horsey. Like horsey man,” Lucy said, giving their driver a shy smile.

      “Horse bad. Man bad.” Megan glared at him and stuck out her lower lip as if daring him to argue with her.

      “No, he isn’t bad, Megan.” Willa slanted a glance at СКАЧАТЬ