The Christmas Courtship

“Joshua, it’s not—” She didn’t finish her thought.

Bay was quiet for a moment, quiet long enough that he glanced over his shoulder at her. She was still standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed over her chest again. She didn’t seem pleased with him, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. Did she really think he wasn’t serious about wanting to build the greenhouse? Sometimes it was hard to know what women were thinking.

Who was he kidding? He almost never knew.

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll go over the figures tomorrow. Supper’s about ready. You’d best wash up. You know how Mam is about coming late to the table.”

“Just about done here,” he answered, crumpling a piece of newspaper to push beneath the neatly stacked kindling.

He heard her turn to go, then stop in the doorway.

“Joshua,” she said softly. “It would be best if you didn’t—” She went quiet midsentence again.

“Best I not what?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

She shook her head. “Never mind,” she said. “Wash up.”

“Ya,” he answered, getting to his feet. He needed to clean up any mess he’d made, and then if he was quick he’d have time to get upstairs and not just wash his hands, but brush his hair, too. And maybe even put on a clean shirt. Not that his shirt was all that dirty, but there was nothing wrong with a man wanting to look his best at his parents’ supper table, was there?

“You were looking for me?” Joshua walked into the parlor where Rosemary was sitting on the couch, her foot in the black orthopedic boot, propped on a stool. He had a mug of coffee in his hand, the last from the pot that Tara had insisted he take when he’d cut through the kitchen in search of his stepmother. It was Jesse who had said his mam wanted to speak with him.

Rosemary looked up from the sock on her lap that she was darning. “Joshua.” She smiled at him and then snipped a thread that ran between the gray sock and her needle with a pair of scissors. “Come in. Fence ret up?”

After breakfast, his father had sent him to the corner of the north pasture to repair a sagging fence. It was his father’s belief that fences were best mended before the cows got out. It had been cold and windy outside, and Joshua’s hands had gotten stiff even though he’d worn work gloves. But he hadn’t minded tackling the task alone because it had given him some time to think. With such a large family, time alone wasn’t easily found, and he’d welcomed it. He’d spent a bit of time in prayer as he worked, then had run numbers in his head for the plans for the greenhouse. Eventually, his thoughts had drifted to Phoebe. He just couldn’t help himself. This morning she’d come down to breakfast not in the black everyday dress she’d been wearing when he’d picked her up at the bus station, but in a blue dress that looked just like one of his sisters’ dresses. In fact, he was fairly certain one of them had loaned or given it to her. In the blue dress, Phoebe’s eyes had seemed even bluer, her cheeks rosier. And she’d been smiling. Hockmut, or pride in English, wasn’t a good thing among the Amish. He hadn’t thought she was being prideful, only that the pretty, calf-length dress with her white apron made her feel happy. And happiness was never discouraged among their people.

“Fence is standing tall again,” he told Rosemary, reining in his thoughts. “It was bent coming into our pasture, not going out. Deer maybe? Population’s heavy this year and winter has come earlier.”

“Ya, I’ve seen them in the field with the horses at sunset.” She rolled the mended sock into its mate. “Looking for feed, I suppose.”

Joshua sipped from his mug. The coffee had cooled down but was still good. Black and nice and strong the way he liked it. “Ya, corn probably,” he agreed, feeling awkward. Except for church services, the parlor was more the women’s domain than the men’s. Especially since Rosemary had had her surgery. “Thought you were allowed to start walking.” He pointed to her foot.

“Just resting a bit before dinner. Your father thinks I’ve been on it too much. A little swelling, nothing more.” She gave a wave. “He worries too much.” She added the socks to a growing pile on the end table beside her and he watched her fish another pair from a basket at her feet. “I wanted to ask you a favor, Joshua.”

He stood a little straighter, slipping one hand into his pocket. He could smell the aroma of roasting turkey wafting from the kitchen. They were having turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy for dinner. With buttermilk biscuits. He couldn’t wait. “Sure. What do you need?”

“Edna and John Fisher are having a harvest supper for the young, single folks Friday night. Singing after, I hear. Are you going?”

Joshua raised his coffee mug to his mouth, thinking on the matter. “Ya, maybe. I have to see if—”

“Goot,” she interrupted. “Because I want you to ask Phoebe to go with you.”

Joshua had just taken a drink of coffee and the liquid caught in his throat. He coughed, then choked. “I’m sorry—” He covered his mouth with his hand and tried to catch his breath. More coughing followed, and he hoped coffee wouldn’t come out of his nose. That would be embarrassing.

“You all right?” Rosemary asked, looking up, concern in her voice.

“Fine,” he managed, still coughing. He reached for his handkerchief in his pocket. Gripping the mug in one hand, he used the other to wipe his mouth and then his nose—just to be certain. “You want me to—” He cleared his throat.

“Ask Phoebe to go with you, ya.” Rosemary was staring at him now.

“Um...”

“I suspect Tara and Nettie are going. And you know Ginger, she wouldn’t miss a singing where there are eligible young men for all the cake in the county.” She began to thread her darning needle again. “Who can say with Bay. She can be shy around boys her age.” She rolled her eyes. “Has no problem telling a customer what’s what, though, does she?”

Joshua sniffed and slipped his handkerchief back into his pocket. He blinked the tears from his eyes. Not knowing what to say in response to Rosemary’s comment about Bay, he didn’t say anything. It was true that Bay wasn’t much interested in courting, not the way Ginger was. But he figured Bay was like him, just not ready for that in his life. At least that’s what he’d thought until Phoebe arrived. And now...not that he thought she’d ever be interested in him. He’d found out that, as he had suspected, she was two years older than he was. But if she had been interested in him, he could see himself walking out with her. Of course, that would never happen. He kept reminding himself of that.

“Jacob will be going. I hear he’s sweet on Lovey’s neighbor. And Levi. He never misses a chance to eat.” She pushed a beanbag she used for darning into the toe of the sock and began to whipstitch the hole. “It would be nice for Phoebe to be included. You can all ride together.”

“Um...” He hesitated, not knowing what to say. He couldn’t ask Phoebe to go with him to the singing. What if she thought he meant it as a date? Usually, boys asked girls to ride home from singings as a way to spend time alone with them, but what if things were different where she came from? He wouldn’t want Phoebe to think he was interested in her.

Or would he?

“Why...you don’t think, um...one of the girls should invite her?” he asked, feeling completely off balance.

Rosemary looked up from her darning, meeting his gaze. “I asked you because she likes you.”

He held his breath. She liked him?

“She’s comfortable with you. Besides,” Rosemary went on, returning her attention to her darning needle, “I want her to go because Eli Kutz will be there. You know, the widower from Rose Valley. He’s chaperoning.” She smiled. “And I’m thinking he might make a fine husband for Phoebe.”

Phoebe pulled a wet towel from the laundry basket in the muddy grass, gave it a shake and hung it over the clothesline. It was the warmest day they’d had since she arrived in Hickory Grove, and she was glad to have a few moments to herself outside. The sun was shining. The air was crisp with the smell of wood smoke from the house and the fainter smell of apples not yet harvested from the orchard. The downside of the sudden increase in temperatures, however, was that the ice had melted, and it was muddy, meaning she had to take care with the laundry. Anything that touched the grass would be soiled and have to be washed again.

Reaching for a clothespin from the cloth bag hanging on the line, she eyed the woodshed. She’d spotted Joshua going in a few minutes ago, but he hadn’t come out. Once, she thought she’d caught a glimpse of him looking around the corner of the building in her direction, but there was no sign of him now. She wondered what he was doing in the woodshed. Organizing, maybe?

Smiling to herself, she grabbed another wet towel. He was a hard worker, that one. And kind. Particularly to her since her arrival. Everyone in the family had, of course, been welcoming. But Joshua was the one who time and time again made the extra effort to make her feel more comfortable in her new surroundings. He always made sure she knew what was going on in the family and how things were done. He did things like seeking her out to tell her what time family prayer took place. He explained to her that his father and brothers all liked their coffee very strong, preventing her from serving the weak coffee her stepfather preferred. He’d also made an effort to make her feel included in the day-to-day activities of the family, whether it meant inviting her to play checkers in the evening or explaining who was who during a lively conversation between his sisters about a new family who had just bought a farm nearby. He was such a thoughtful young man.

Despite missing her John-John so much that it physically hurt, Joshua was the one who made her feel as if coming to Hickory Grove was the right thing to do. And Rosemary and Benjamin’s twins. For some reason, the little boys had taken to her immediately and begun asking for her. With Rosemary trying to stay off her feet, and James and Josiah being so active, it had seemed only natural that Phoebe become their nanny of sorts. That was an Englisher word Rosemary had explained to her. It meant a woman who cared for another woman’s children. And Phoebe had embraced the job. She had been afraid spending so much time with the toddlers so close in age to her son would make her miss him more, but their sticky hugs and laughter actually eased the ache in her chest for her own child. And reminded her why she was here—to make a better life for herself and for him.

Feeling as if she was being watched, Phoebe looked up to see Joshua standing at the edge of the woodshed. They made eye contact and she smiled. He wasn’t wearing his Englisher sunglasses today so she could see his dark eyes. He hesitated, then started toward her. He was wearing a denim barn coat, a knit cap pulled over his head and shoes that were wet and caked with mud.

Phoebe looked down at the clunky knee-high rubber boots she’d borrowed from the laundry room. Bay had told her to find a pair that fit and wear them. She said she did it all the time. Phoebe grabbed a white bedsheet from the laundry basket. She hoped he didn’t think she looked foolish, but she’d been afraid if she didn’t wear the boots, she might have ended up with mud on the pretty blue dress Tara had given her. Phoebe had never had such a beautiful dress. In her stepfather’s home, the women all wore black even though the men wore colored shirts. She hadn’t been allowed to have buttons, either, not even hidden in her clothing. That was because women, her stepfather had explained, were far more likely to be drawn into the evils of adornment and couldn’t be trusted with blue or green dresses. Or buttons. The idea seemed silly to Phoebe, but no one in their home had ever been interested in her opinions on anything.

That included her belief that wearing a prayer kapp wasn’t always practical in a busy household, mainly because it had to be kept starched and pristine at all times. Evidently, Benjamin agreed with Phoebe because around his house, Rosemary and her daughters often wore a scarf instead of a prayer kapp. A lot of women in their church district did so, Ginger had explained to Phoebe. And then Tara had produced a scarf for indoor use for Phoebe and a heavier wool one for outdoors. The scarf provided modesty, but was also practical.

A sudden gust of wind came up and Phoebe gave a little cry as the bedsheet flew off the line. She grabbed the edge before it hit the grass, but then struggled to get control of it in the wind.

“Need some help?” Joshua called, hustling across the short distance between them.

Phoebe looked up at him through a tangle of white sheet and laughed. “Ya, because I’m determined not to get this one dirty again, else it will have to go back in the wash.”

Standing on the other side of the clothesline from her, he managed to grab a corner, then a second as the sheet whipped in the wind. “Got it!” He pulled his side down over the line and she did the same on her side.

“Danke.” She laughed, taking a handful of wooden clothespins. “A good day for doing laundry with the sunshine,” she told him as she clipped one pin after the other to secure the sheet to the line. “But a little tricky with the wind.”

He just stood there nodding.

“There we go.” She clipped the last clothespin securely.

“There we go,” he echoed.