An Amish Holiday Courtship Page 2

  Ginger’s mother glanced at Ginger. Her mother didn’t have to say anything; Ginger knew what she was thinking and nodded.

  Her mother looked back at Eli. “What would you think of Ginger lending a hand? She’s good with children, and I know she’d be happy to help, wouldn’t you?”

  “Ya, I could watch Lizzy,” Ginger said, excited by the prospect. “And the boys, too,” she added, thinking it might be good for Eli to spend some time without his children rather than taking them to work with him. Every parent needed a break. She had learned that from her mother. “As long as Mam and Benjamin can spare me.” She was old enough not to have to ask permission to do something, but because she had plenty of chores at home and also worked at her stepfather’s harness shop, she wanted to be sure it wouldn’t cause too much upset in the family. In order for her to work for Eli, others would have to do her jobs at home.

  “Spare you?” Her mother chuckled. “I’ve got too many cooks in my kitchen as is. And I’m sure Benjamin can find someone to cover your shifts.” She eyed Eli. “Always underfoot, my girls. I keep hoping they’ll start marrying, but they don’t seem in any great hurry.”

  “Mam!” Ginger laughed nervously. She stole a quick look in Joe’s direction. He grinned.

  Eli turned to Ginger, his blue eyes twinkling. “Would you consider watching my children? Lizzy adores you, you know. I think she’d heal all the quicker having you there at the house. And I’d pay you, of course,” he added quickly.

  Ginger pressed her lips together, touched that Eli thought she could assist in Lizzy’s recuperation. “I’d be happy to come, Eli. I’d have to talk to Benjamin about using a buggy, though. It’s a little cold to be walking home or taking my scooter from your house after dark. Seems like winter has come early this year.”

  It was true. Even though it was only early October, they’d already had several frosts. The Farmer’s Almanac was predicting snow before Christmas and colder than usual temperatures, her stepfather, Benjamin, had told them just the other night at the supper table.

  “Not to worry. I’m sure we can figure out a way to get her to and from your place,” Ginger’s mother assured Eli.

  “A good thing to do, Ginger,” Joe put in. “Helping a neighbor in need. You catch a ride in the morning or walk to Eli’s, and I could give you a ride home most nights.”

  Ginger felt a little shiver of excitement. “You would, Joe?” She looked from him to her mother. “Isn’t that nice of Joe to offer?”

  “I wouldn’t want to put Joe out,” her mother answered, her tone cool.

  Ginger frowned. She didn’t know what had gotten into her mother, being almost rude to Joe.

  “You wouldn’t be putting me out,” Joe contended. “I go right down your road most days. My uncle’s put me in charge of looking in on crews, so I’m here and there all day. Not many he trusts to see the job gets done.”

  “It’s kind of you to offer, Ginger.” There was emotion in Eli’s voice. “And also kind of you, Joe.” He looked back at Ginger. “And if you’re sure you’d like to help me, I’ll accept. My children will be so excited.”

  “Then it’s decided.” Ginger’s mother clasped her hands together, settling the matter. “Monday morning you say, Eli?”

  “Ya. I have to be on the job by eight, but it’s less than half an hour to the work site by buggy,” Eli answered. “I’d offer to take Ginger home each night, but Lizzy can’t be out and about yet, and I can’t leave the children at home. I know some folks think a boy of eight is old enough to leave home alone with brothers or sisters, but I don’t do it. I’d worry too much.”

  “You’re a good father, Eli,” Ginger’s mother told him. “And don’t you fret. We’ll figure out how to get Ginger to and from.” She produced her shopping list. “Well, we best be on our way. Tara’s waiting on raisins.”

  “Ya, and I need to get home. Claudia’s with the children, but I promised her I wouldn’t be long.” Eli picked up his shopping basket from the floor. “Just needed to pick up a prescription at the drugstore for Lizzy and stop for a few groceries. I’ve got a driver waiting. Hired a van to take Lizzy to the doctor this morning, then home, then back into town.”

  “Forty-nine!” a different clerk called from the deli counter. “Forty-nine!”

  “Guess I’d best go get my sub before someone else does.” Joe boldly met Ginger’s gaze. “You going to the Fishers’ Saturday night? I hear there’s going to be a bonfire.”

  “I think so,” she said, trying not to sound too excited. But if they were both there, Joe would surely offer to take her home, wouldn’t he? It was the way young men and women dated among the Old Order Amish. They attended chaperoned events separately and then a boy was free to ask a girl if he could give her a ride home.

  “We’ll have to see,” Ginger’s mother responded, then turned to Eli. “Ginger will be there at seven-fifteen on Monday.”

  “Excellent.” Eli nodded his head again and again, gripping the shopping basket in one hand. “Wonderful.” He looked at Ginger. “Goodbye. Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome,” Ginger told Eli, but her eyes were all for Joe Verkler as he walked away.

  * * *

  Eli entered his cozy kitchen in his stocking feet. They had an unusual rule for an Amish family—no boots or shoes in the house. They wore socks or slippers beyond the mudroom. He had made the rule after his wife, Elizabeth, died three years ago. It was the only way he had found to keep clean the hardwood floors he had so lovingly laid for her. “Guess who’s home?” he sang, carrying a paper sack of groceries in each arm.

  “Dat!”

  “Dat!”

  “Dat!” his three sons cried, one after the other.

  The youngest, five-year-old Phillip, threw himself at his father, wrapping his arms around Eli’s knees. “What did you bring us?”

  “Phillip.” Eli’s sister, Claudia, spoke from where she stood at the stove, stirring something in a cast-iron kettle. Something that smelled deliciously of chicken and vegetables and herbs. “Don’t ask such things. Offer to help your fadder with his bags.”

  “I’ll get one,” Eli’s oldest son, eight-year-old Simon, said, taking a bag from his father’s arms.

  “I’ll help,” seven-year-old Andrew piped up.

  When Andrew took the second bag from Eli, Phillip immediately grabbed it, practically knocking both of them off their feet.

  “Whoa,” Eli said, taking the bag from his boys and righting Andrew.

  “I want to help,” Phillip complained.

  Andrew crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance. “You’re not big enough.”

  “Am too!” Phillip, who looked just like Eli had as a child—bright red hair and all—gazed up at his father. “Andrew says I’m not big. But this morning you said I was big now.”

  Eli rumpled his son’s coarse hair as he walked past him, taking the grocery sack to the table. “I said you’re bigger than Lizzy. Which means you’re responsible for her and also means you shouldn’t tease her.”

  “I see you bought cookies.” Claudia left her place at the stove and began to unload the first bag. “Plenty of cookies.” She stacked the packages of them on the table. “Did you remember the rosemary?”

  “Ya. It’s in one of the bags. They didn’t have fresh, but you said dry would do.” Eli walked to the stove. “I don’t know what you’ve made but it smells wonderful.” He picked up a wooden spoon from the walnut countertop he’d built and stirred the thick, creamy stew in the pot.

  “Chicken potpie,” Claudia told him. “I just turned it off. Piecrust is already made and on the counter under the damp towel. Pour the stew into the piecrust, cover it with the second crust and be sure to vent it or you’ll have a mess to clean up. Bake for forty-five minutes at three-fifty degrees. The oven is already preheating.” She held a pack of Oreos in one hand and peanut b
utter sandwich cookies in the other. “Really, Eli,” she said gently. “The children don’t need all of these sweets.”

  “Maybe they’re for me,” he teased as he set down the spoon.

  “Then you don’t need them, either.”

  He laughed at the stern look on his sister’s face. “They eat healthy enough. We all do. How’s Lizzy?”

  “Tired but good,” she said, putting the packages of cookies in the pie safe that had been a gift to Eli and Elizabeth when they’d married. It had been his great-grandmother’s. “I think the trip to the doctor wore her out. She should stay in bed for the rest of the day. If she wants to eat with the family, maybe carry her out to the kitchen?”

  “I’ll see what she wants to do. Some nights we eat with her in her room.” He looked to Simon, Andrew and Phillip. “Don’t we, boys?”

  “Sometimes,” Phillip agreed, biting on the end of a package of cookies, trying to open it with his teeth.

  Simon took the bag from his little brother. “None before supper.”

  “Dat!” Phillip cried in protest.

  “He’s right. You shouldn’t be eating cookies, Phillip.” Eli turned to his sister. “Thank you so much for staying with them while I went back into town. You should go home. John will be wanting his supper soon.”

  “You sure?” Claudia closed the pie safe. “I can get the potpie in the oven for you.”

  “I can manage the potpie,” Eli assured her. “Guess what?” Suddenly he couldn’t hide his excitement. “I found someone to watch the children while I work that job. The one Ader Verkler wants to hire me to do.”

  “You did? That’s wonderful news.” She removed her apron and hung it on a peg on the wall. “Who?”

  “Ginger Stutzman,” he announced, unable to stop grinning. There was something about Ginger that made him smile every time he saw her. Yes, she could be silly and coquettish at times, but he admired her enthusiasm for life. She always had a light in her eyes that he sensed came from deep within her.

  “Ginger?” Claudia made a face that left no room for interpretation. Obviously she didn’t approve.

  He lowered his voice, walking near to his sister so the children wouldn’t hear. “What’s wrong with Ginger? The children adore her.”

  His sister looked at him in a way that immediately made him feel a little bit as if they were back on their parents’ farm in Wisconsin, and he was ten, and she was fifteen again. Their mother had died when he was eight, and at thirteen, Claudia had taken on most of the household chores so their father could continue to work their dairy farm. Her duties, among others, had been to care for Eli and their other siblings. She had not quite taken on the role of mother but embraced her new responsibilities as an older sister. Eli and Claudia had remained close, and after he lost his wife, she had become his best friend.

  Claudia took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to be cross. It’s just been a long day. There’s nothing wrong with Ginger. She’ll make an excellent sitter.”

  He followed her to the mudroom. “My same thought.”

  “I just think you need to be careful,” she went on as she took her heavy wool cloak from a peg and threw it over her shoulders.

  “Careful of what?”

  Claudia glanced in the direction of the boys as she reached for her heavy black bonnet. Phillip had managed to get into the cookies and each boy had one stuffed in his mouth. She looked back at Eli. “She’s a flirt,” she said quietly.

  “And?” Eli pressed. Because he knew she was a flirt. Everyone in Hickory Grove knew it. She always had been. But she was also a good person, a woman of faith, and he had never heard anyone ever speak of her behaving improperly. More importantly, he knew he could trust her with his children, who were more precious to him than anything he had on this earth.

  “And I wouldn’t want you to...misinterpret anything she might say or do.”

  He tipped back his head and laughed. Nothing could dampen his mood today. Because his problem was solved with childcare, and the money he would make would not only be enough to pay all of Lizzy’s medical bills but also to buy a pony for Christmas for the children. “Misinterpret?”

  Claudia met his gaze with green eyes. “You know very well what I’m talking about. I understand you want to marry again. I just wouldn’t want you to—” She let the sentence go unfinished.

  “Wouldn’t want me to what?” he pressed.

  “Fall in love with her,” she said.

  Eli laughed. “I’m not a boy just out of school.” He opened his arms wide. “I’m practically an old man. A woman like Ginger wouldn’t be interested in me.”

  “That said...” Her tone softened. “You have such a big heart, Eli.” She exhaled and went on. “I wouldn’t want to see it broken. And Ginger Stutzman—” she tapped his chest “—will break it if you let her.”

  Chapter Two

  Eli stood on the steps of the back porch, watching as his sister went down the driveway on her push scooter, her black cloak whipping behind her. He smiled to himself, silently giving thanks for her dedication to him and his children, and to her willingness to speak up. Even when he didn’t agree with her. He wasn’t offended by what she had said about Ginger or him. Her heart was in the right place.

  He chuckled to himself as he entered the warm house again. Did Claudia really think he would pursue Ginger Stutzman, the prettiest, most eligible young woman in Hickory Grove? And probably eight years younger than him? Did his sister believe he would think Ginger would ever be interested in him? Women like Ginger would never give a man his age a second glance. They went for flashy young men like that Joe Verkler from Lancaster.

  In the kitchen, Eli put an end to the cookie snack, asked his boys to set the table for supper and then padded down the hallway. He quietly entered the parlor in case Lizzy was sleeping. Ordinarily, they all slept upstairs, but he’d moved her downstairs so he would be closer to her during the day. He slept on the sofa on the far side of the room, just in case she needed him during the night. His boys continued to sleep upstairs, though occasionally he woke in the morning to find Phillip either sleeping at the foot of his sister’s bed or snuggled in Eli’s arms.

  Eli’s gaze settled on his daughter. She was sitting propped up on pillows in her bed, a log cabin quilt tucked around her. She was playing with the little faceless doll Ginger had made for her and a wooden horse he’d carved to go with other wooden animals his children shared.

  “Dat!”

  “Lizzy.” Eli went to her and sat on the edge of her bed. “Your aunt says you’re feeling pretty good?”

  She nodded. Her blond hair was pulled back and covered with a white handkerchief that matched her white sleeping gown.

  He smoothed the hair that had escaped from her headcovering. “But a little tired maybe?” he asked in Pennsylvania Deitsch.

  “Ya.” She looked up at him with her mother’s big, brown, expressive eyes.

  Eli swallowed hard, wrapping his arms around his daughter. She hugged him tight. “Guess what,” he whispered in her ear.

  “What?” she whispered back with a little giggle. “Did you bring cookies, Dat?”

  “I did,” he told her, easing her back onto her pillow. “And Jell-O and pudding. But this is better than treats. Ginger is going to be keeping an eye on you while I go to work.”

  The little girl grinned. “I wike Ginger.” Then she knitted her brows. “But why do you have to go to work, Dat? I’ll mish you.”

  He drew the quilt up to her chin and smoothed it. “Because that’s what fadders do. They go to work so they can buy cookies.” He tickled her belly and she giggled again. “And I’ll come home to you every night by dinnertime. Ya?”

  “Ya,” she echoed, looking up at him from beneath long lashes.

  Eli had always known he would become a father someday. And he had known he would be good at it because he ha
d helped Claudia take care of their five younger siblings after their mother’s death. His childhood experiences had prepared him for the crying babies, the dirty faces and the mischievous antics of little boys. What he had not been prepared for was this sweet ache he felt deep in his chest, an ache of love for his children that was like no other feeling in the world. He would do anything for his Lizzy, for his boys. Anything to keep them safe and warm and cared for.

  He sighed as Lizzy relaxed and closed her eyes. It hadn’t been an easy row to hoe, being a single father with little ones. He constantly felt as if he was being pulled in so many directions at once. There were cows to be milked, animals to be fed, dishes to be washed and beds to be made. And then there were his responsibilities in his children’s religious education. Some days it was too much for one man. That was why God joined Adam and Eve together, so that they could go about their tasks together. He truly believed that.

  Eli stroked Lizzy’s forehead, thankful she was no longer burning with the fever that had plagued her on and off for weeks. She was falling asleep.

  He didn’t agree with what Claudia had been saying about Ginger, but she had been right in saying he wanted a wife. And he wanted a mother for his children. His children needed a mother.

  Watching Lizzy’s rosebud lips part as she exhaled slowly, he clasped his hands and prayed a quick, silent thank-you for God’s mercy in saving his daughter from her illness. And then he prayed, as he prayed every day, for God to provide him a wife.

  * * *

  “I suppose we’d best get home,” Ginger’s twin sister, Bay, said, drying her hands on her apron. They had just pulled four loaves of fresh bread from Eli’s oven, and the entire house smelled delightful. “Unless you want me to wait for you and give you a ride home.” She glanced at the clock. It was five-fifteen. “I imagine Eli will be home soon.”

  Bay wasn’t the cook Tara was, but she had the touch when it came to yeast breads. She’d come for the afternoon to help Ginger make loaves of honey-wheat sandwich bread. It had been Ginger’s idea to make it, thinking the bread would serve well for the sandwiches Eli took to work every day. Usually, he just ate his sandwiches on inexpensive white bread from the grocery store. However, earlier in the week he’d gone on so much about how good the homemade sandwich bread her mother had sent for him was that she thought he ought to have a few loaves of his own. She planned to slice the bread after it cooled and freeze it on cookie sheets before putting it in plastic bags in the freezer. That way, he could quickly grab what he needed in the morning and not worry about the bread going moldy in the pie safe because, without preservatives, the homemade bread had a short shelf life.