“Allen will likely sell at least the pony, and probably a horse, too,” she admitted. “Hopefully, there’ll be room for one of our road horses in Emmalyn’s stable. We really only need one. We’ll be able to be more independent that way and won’t have to borrow her horse and buggy.”

  They sat there without speaking for a moment, the implications sinking in.

  Britta leaned her head against Susie’s shoulder. “This’ll be our last Christmas in this house, and we won’t even be here on Christmas Day,” she said, sniffling.

  “Well, would ya really want to be here with just me?” She slipped her arm around her sister.

  Britta shook her head. “It’ll be hard enough without Mamma.”

  “What if we exchanged a homemade gift for each other on Christmas Eve morning, before a nice hot breakfast? I’ll cook whatever you want,” Susie offered, then paused as another idea sprang up. “And you could have the cats come into the kitchen, if you’d like.”

  “Really?” Britta’s face beamed as she straightened. “We’ll see if they can make up their minds ’bout going out or coming in.”

  Susie laughed. “Typical kitty cats.”

  Britta hugged her.

  When Britta stepped out later that afternoon to go to the stable, Susie walked to the window and looked out toward the beautiful frozen pond. She recalled staying overnight with Cousin Verena one late October. She had walked home the following day, and rounding the bend not far from Ebersols’ farm, she had seen the white gazebo in the side yard highlighted by the flaming red sugar maples, and the pond glittering through the willows. Her heart had lifted at the familiar sight, and in that moment, she’d felt especially grateful for the privilege of growing up in such a grand house.

  The awareness of all the happy years—and even the sad ones—linked to this special place played across her memory as she stood there alone in the front room. But she refused to be forlorn. In just sixteen days, it would be the Savior’s birthday, and she would make the best of it, for Britta’s sake.

  While Britta milked the goats, she relived her visit to Bishop and Mary, and though she wanted to accept the words the man of God had spoken about being loved and cared for by the People, she was filled with doubts. After all, she was beginning to feel let down by Mamma, and now Allen.

  How can I feel like I truly belong here when Mamma is out in Missouri, likely never to return? she thought sadly. And when my brother’s ousting me from the only home I’ve ever known?

  Aendi Lettie Hostettler stopped by the shop to visit with Susie the next morning, dressed for the cold weather in her black coat, thick gray scarf, and high-top black shoes. She smiled broadly as she invited Susie and Britta to visit at any time, particularly during the holidays. Susie thanked her warmly, and before Lettie left, she purchased a half dozen popcorn balls and five jars of peanut butter spread for Christmas gifts.

  Soon after, Mattie Beiler arrived to ask if the girls needed help with anything, volunteering her husband, David, as she often did. Susie told her that she and Britta were handling things just fine for now and thanked her for offering.

  Over the course of the morning, the steady stream of customers continued, mostly Englischers. Then, around eleven o’clock, the bishop’s wife stepped into the shop, waving to Susie. “Oh, I thought Britta might be workin’ today,” Mary said, looking a little disappointed as she pulled her black scarf away from her face.

  “I can run an’ get her for ya,” Susie offered, glancing toward the house.

  Mary nodded, her chubby cheeks bright pink from the cold. Then she said, “On second thought, why don’t you just pass this along to her.”

  “Sure,” Susie agreed.

  “I hope I’m not talkin’ out of turn, but Britta told us what your Mamma shared with her . . . about her birth mother.” She paused, apparently gathering her thoughts. “My husband has been goin’ from family to family to let the Hickory Hollow church members know. The response has been very caring. As he expected, no one’s holding a grudge toward Britta or the woman. Your sister shouldn’t worry herself.”

  “It’s kind of him to do that. Britta will appreciate it, I know.”

  “After prayin’ for wisdom, he felt strongly ’bout doing it one-on-one like this.” Mary stopped again, her expression changing. “Bless her heart, Britta was so shy talkin’ to us. We want her to know how accepted she is amongst the People. And by the Lord.”

  Susie smiled. “Thank the bishop for Britta and me.”

  “I’ll do that.” Mary examined the remaining table runners. “Say, these are real perty. I’d like to purchase a few.” She opened her purse and pulled out her wallet, mentioning how different Christmas must be for them this year without their mother home.

  “Britta and I are makin’ some nice plans with Polly and her family,” Susie assured her.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Mary waited as Susie folded and wrapped the runners in tissue paper, then added, right out of the blue, “’Tween you and me, I hope Britta changes her mind ’bout wanting to search, ya know.”

  “I understand. But she’s quite determined.”

  Mary shook her head. “I’d hate to see her get caught up in the world, this close to being ready for baptism.”

  A twinge of pain flew through Susie. “Well, since we were wee ones, Mamma’s prayed for all of her children to make that decision, so we’ll continue to trust our heavenly Father to see Britta through.”

  “Jah, trusting’s the best way.” Mary reached for the large sack. “You’re always so encouraging and cheerful, dear.”

  Susie’s shoulders dipped as she watched her walk to the door.

  If she only knew . . .

  CHAPTER

  41

  A week passed, and Susie kept noticing a large number of Christmas cards coming in the mail for Britta, some from folks who had never sent one before. Each day, when Susie passed Britta’s room, she could see more cards on display on the dresser and on her bedside table.

  “I’ve never received this many,” Britta remarked to her. “Not even sure where I’ll put them!”

  “The People are so encouraging,” Susie replied. “Remember what you said the bishop and Mary told ya?”

  Britta nodded, like she was trying to make sense of it.

  The next day, there was a letter from Mamma for Britta, which she scampered off to read upstairs. Susie’s curiosity rose as she wondered if Mamma might be writing to discourage her from looking for Kathleen. The thought of Britta’s interest in locating her birth mother still troubled Susie as she considered the possible pitfalls ahead, not least among them Kathleen’s own possible reaction to Britta’s sudden appearance.

  And while she rustled up a light supper for the two of them, Susie asked for divine direction, especially for Britta, still so young to be making such a risky decision.

  Maybe Mary should’ve talked directly to Britta when she stopped by the shop, Susie thought, hoping Mamma had written something to quell Britta’s yearning.

  When the grilled cheese sandwiches and homemade tomato soup were ready, she called Britta down for supper. After washing her hands, Britta joined her at the table, where they bowed their heads for the silent blessing. Afterward, Britta cut her grilled cheese sandwich into strips and began to dip them into the soup, something she had done since childhood.

  “So Mamma had a surprise for me in her letter,” Britta announced.

  “A pleasant one?”

  “Was it ever!” Britta said between dips. “She sent me Kathleen’s mailing address.”

  Susie almost dropped her spoon. “What on earth?”

  “I know.” Britta was nodding. “And wait’ll ya hear this—Mamma has been in touch with her all this time, writing a letter once a year since my adoption. She said it was her idea. But Kathleen has only written back a few times.”

  Mentally, Susie was trying to catch up. Mamma gave her Kathleen’s address?

  “I can’t believe it,” Britta was saying. “Looks like God has opened a door for me.”

  “Does Mamma have a guess as to why Kathleen hasn’t written regularly?” Susie asked.

  “Evidently she didn’t want to interfere with my life or confuse me . . . ya know, with letters arriving here from a stranger.”

  Susie was speechless.

  “Mamma continued writing, though, because she thought it was only right to keep Kathleen updated ’bout my life,” Britta added. “And apparently Ella Mae knows Mamma’s kept in touch with Kathleen.”

  Hearing this baffled Susie. “So are ya sayin’ that Mamma doesn’t mind if you contact Kathleen?”

  “Here, you can read the letter.”

  Susie shook her head. “I was just curious if Mamma had any, uh, advice for you.”

  “She did. And don’t worry—I’ll be very careful.”

  Susie stirred her soup as the startling news churned in her head. She sent a quick prayer heavenward, then attempted to turn the conversation to upcoming holiday activities.

  “Ach, I forgot to tell ya—Jerome invited Cousin Marnie for Christmas dinner with his family. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re planning to wed next year,” Britta said.

  Susie reached for her water glass and took a drink. “I’ve always thought Jerome was a real nice fella. I’m very happy for Marnie.”

  Britta agreed. “And to think, they’ve been nearly best friends right from the start.”

  “They should be well matched as husband and wife, then,” Susie replied, recalling a time when she might have had such a close relationship with Obie.

  Five days before Christmas, Susie and Britta baked a variety of cookies for Aendi Lettie’s upcoming annual cookie exchange. This being Friday, the shop was closed for business, so it was the ideal morning to make lots of goodies.

  “It smells wunnerbaar,” Britta said, sniffing the air. “Like when Mamma was here.”

  “Say, once we’re finished,” Susie said, “let’s go down and sort through the boxes in the basement.”

  Britta agreed. “I wish Mamma could tell us what to do with certain things. There’s so much stuff.”

  “Well, don’t worry—I’ve been makin’ a list to send her.”

  “That’ll help.” Britta kept spooning up cookie dough for the peanut blossoms.

  “Have ya decided when you’ll write to Kathleen?”

  “Oh, I’ve already made a pretty Christmas card and mailed it. She should have it soon.”

  “So soon!” Susie said, surprised and disappointed.

  While dozens of cookies cooled on wax paper, Susie and Britta headed to the basement. Susie wanted to get a head start on organizing the things they wouldn’t have room for at Aendi Emmalyn’s. Even though Allen had said he would not contact their aunt to finalize arrangements till after the new year, Susie still thought it was important to dispose of things and decide what to give away, with Mamma’s permission.

  Presently, Britta was rummaging through a large box, and when Susie glanced over at her, Britta was pulling out Dat’s old black work boots. “Why’d Mamma keep these?”

  “Those . . . no idea. I thought she’d given them to Allen.” Susie remembered how tall and handsome their father had looked in them and how careful he had always been not to track in mud when he entered the outer room. She’d slipped her own small feet in those boots when she was little, and the memory was still keen in her mind.

  Now Britta was pulling out a child-sized yellow safety vest. “Lookee here,” she said, holding up the vest. “I used to wear one like this sometimes after dark when I was little.”

  Susie gulped but tried to hide her emotions. “That was Eli’s vest,” she admitted. “Mamma was a stickler ’bout us wearin’ reflective vests when we walked back and forth to Aendi Emmalyn’s at dusk.”

  Britta examined it. “Where’s yours?”

  “After I grew out of it, Mamma gave it to Polly for her future children.”

  “But she kept this one.” Britta looked at Susie. “I wonder why.”

  Susie looked away, the lump in her throat growing. “Well, to tell ya the truth . . . that vest is part of the reason . . . Eli died,” she said, faltering.

  “I . . . I don’t understand.” Britta’s voice was soft.

  Breathing deeply, Susie began to relay what had happened that terrible evening. “I’d forgotten to bring my vest along for our walk home from Aendi’s, so Eli insisted that I wear his.” She choked down her tears. “If Eli had worn it, instead of me . . . he might still be alive today.”

  Britta looked horrified. “Ach, you can’t know that, sister!”

  “Don’t ya understand? The driver—Kathleen—could’ve only seen me, because of the safety vest I had on. Not Eli.” The lump in her throat returned. “He was walkin’ closer to the road, and I’d lagged behind, stopping to pick up a bird feather. There was only one vest between us.”

  Britta fell silent, like she was trying to picture this. She sighed, staring at Susie. At last she said, “Eli was only lookin’ out for you, like a gut Bruder.” She reached for Susie’s hand. “He surely wouldn’t want ya thinkin’ this way, Susie. Not all these years later.”

  It felt peculiar, the way their roles reversed in that moment.

  “Maybe runnin’ from the truth—workin’ yourself to the bone like ya do—makes it impossible to stop long enough to face what really happened,” Britta said now.

  “What truth?”

  “That you didn’t cause Eli’s death.”

  Susie fought to accept Britta’s words, but they could not erase the guilt she’d long felt.

  Britta’s eyes watered as she reached to hug Susie, holding her tight.

  A few moments later, several loud knocks came from upstairs, and a woman’s voice called to them from the back door. Quickly, Susie and Britta lifted their apron hems to wipe their eyes.

  ———

  Susie hurried up the basement steps and through the kitchen and utility room. She opened the back door and found Mattie Beiler standing there with her mother, Ella Mae, beside her. Mattie was holding a prettily wrapped fruit basket. Despite the difference in height, the women looked identical in their black coats and black bandannas, except that Ella Mae’s neck scarf was bright red. Susie couldn’t help recalling how Ella Mae liked to inch past the boundaries at times. Though in the most gentle way.

  “Willkumm.” Susie stepped back from the door to let them in, hoping her eyes weren’t puffy.

  “We came to spread some Christmas cheer.” Mattie moved inside. “I can’t stay, but Mamma can, if that’s all right.”

  “Of course,” Susie replied promptly.

  Ella Mae smiled. “Yous are mighty special to us,” she said, and with how rarely Ella Mae left the house anymore, especially in this coldest season, Susie knew they were special indeed.

  “We’re very happy to see you both,” Susie said as she took Ella Mae’s coat and hung it up in the utility room.

  Britta appeared in the doorway that led to the kitchen, her face tear streaked.

  Mine must be, too, Susie thought. “Kumme and get yourselves warmed up,” she said, leading Ella Mae slowly into the kitchen, with Mattie coming behind carrying the fruit basket. “Here, I’ll make it easy for ya,” she told Ella Mae, pulling out Mamma’s chair for her.

  Mattie placed the fruit basket on the counter, and Susie thanked them for the wonderful surprise. Then Mattie excused herself, saying she would return for Ella Mae in an hour or so.

  “That’ll be fine.” Susie eyed the fruit basket. “I see some bags of nuts and chocolate in there.”

  Britta smiled at that, as all the while, Ella Mae seemed to study the girls.

  “Let’s open it,” Susie suggested and pulled out some scissors from a nearby drawer to cut the pretty cellophane wrapping. Inside were bananas, two grapefruit, and several oranges and apples, as well as the nuts and chocolates, and peppermint sticks, too. “This is such fun . . . and so kind of you.”

  “We wanted to do somethin’ a little special for yous with your Mamma away,” Ella Mae was quick to say.

  At that, Susie managed a little smile.

  Carrying the nuts, chocolates, and peppermint sticks to the table, Susie returned to the sink to fill the teakettle. “Would ya like some tea?” she asked Ella Mae, delighted to treat her this time.

  The woman nodded. “Tea’s always a gut idea, ain’t?”

  As she set the gas burner to high, Susie wondered if Ella Mae had any sense of what she’d interrupted. She opened the cupboard where Mamma always kept the boxes of tea bags and removed the peppermint one. “This kind? Or did ya bring a bag of dried mint leaves in your purse?”

  Ella Mae smiled. “S’pose your Mamma told ya that.”

  “She said you liked to have some available, just in case.”

  Ella Mae tittered. “Well, since I don’t go out much, I quit that.”

  Britta took down three teacups and saucers from the cupboard, not having said or shown her face much since Ella Mae’s arrival.

  But Ella Mae was looking toward the counter where Susie and Britta set out the cups and saucers, along with three spoons. “Say now, I hope I didn’t walk in on somethin’,” she said softly, giving them a searching yet kind look. “Are you girls missin’ your Mamma?”

  Britta glanced at Susie. “Jah . . . and missin’ Eli.”

  Surprised at Britta’s reply, Susie felt her breath catch in her throat.

  Britta’s gaze held Susie’s; then she quickly explained that they had been sorting through boxes downstairs. “I stumbled across Eli’s safety vest,” Britta said. “But my sister can tell the rest.”

  Susie felt squeezed into a corner. “Well, it’s just that I never realized Mamma kept that vest all these years—the one I wore the night Eli died on the road.” Her voice broke. “She never mentioned to me that she’d saved it.”

  The teakettle began to whistle, a welcome distraction.

  Britta and Ella Mae said nothing as Susie poured the boiling water into a white teapot, then placed three tea bags inside to steep. She took a container of raw honey over to the table and, not forgetting about Ella Mae’s sweet tooth, gathered up a selection of cookies from the wax papers still on the counter—cranberry crunchies, sand tarts, snowballs, and peanut blossoms—and arranged them on a plate for the table.

 

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