customers at the Christmas tree barn as they passed. Her people would have closed for the day, but life—and Stark Christmas business—went merrily on.
They buggied past Lydia’s house. Daad would not be home yet. Mamm must be baking bread because the kitchen light was on. She made extra loaves of friendship bread at holiday time and froze them in the generator-run freezer in the basement.
Despite Lydia’s sadness over losing the chance to talk to Victoria Keller, and being upset with Sandra overstepping in town, it was wonderful to be with Josh, to feel all sealed in with him by the fiberglass buggy and the Plexiglas screen they added for a windshield in such weather. And they shared a warm lap blanket as if they were cuddled up in bed together.
When they turned in the lane to his house—she’d left her horse and buggy not in the big barn but in his small stables—he was the first to mention Sandra again.
“Sorry Sandra’s making waves when I know you thought she’d be more, well, quiet. Unfortunately, that’s not her way, but I didn’t think she’d do public interviews in a strange place. I guess I should have warned you about that, but, as I said, I’m sure she’ll keep your secret.”
“Especially if you remind her. I can tell she cares about you, so you two know each other pretty well.”
He didn’t follow up on that little fishing expedition but jumped down to open the stable door—so she thought. Instead, he hurried around and helped her down, almost as if they were a courting couple. “She said the same about you, Lydia—that is, that you care about me,” he told her as he slid open the stable door.
“Of course I do. Even more than I care for Melly and Balty.”
Now, she thought, why had she blurted that out? Because she didn’t want him to know how much she was attracted to him? “Actually, a bit more than that,” she added with a little laugh, hoping he hadn’t taken offense.
He hadn’t. It was great to be with someone who had a sense of humor, since that was in pretty short supply at her house. As he unhitched Blaze and hitched Flower to Lydia’s buggy, he grinned at her more than once.
“We have fun together,” he said, with a wink. “Since it’s so beautiful out, want to make a couple of snow angels before you head home—for old times’ sake, though I like the new times better. The menagerie can wait a few minutes. I trust the boys to take care of them. Of course, you’ll walk into your house with your backside all wet as if we’ve been rolling in the snow.”
“Which we will have been. I’ll just take my cape off.”
She untied and swirled it onto her buggy seat. On the day of a funeral, a day when their mutual friend Sandra had let them down, she knew she shouldn’t be so excited. Josh had taught her and some friends how to make snow angels years ago. She’d had a schoolgirl crush on him then, but now...
“Race you outside!” he shouted, as if he recalled that day, too.
He threw off his hat and winter coat on the way out. His small backyard, fenced off from the large animal field, looked pristine with the big flakes falling fast.
He took her hand. Laughing, they flopped down together, about two feet apart, and moved their arms and legs to make the wings and skirts.
“Angels from the realms of glory...” he started to sing, slightly off-key, but she didn’t care. The lacy flakes wet her face and stuck her lashes together when she blinked. Again, she felt she was in a snow globe and someone was shaking it, shaking the very earth when she lay so close in body and heart to this man.
He helped her up and, careful of their creations, which could soon be covered with snow anyway, they walked back toward the barn, his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist. He turned her to him, she thought at first to give her a boost up into her buggy, but his mouth descended on hers.
And it was swirling snow again, but this time in her head and heart and oh, so
They buggied past Lydia’s house. Daad would not be home yet. Mamm must be baking bread because the kitchen light was on. She made extra loaves of friendship bread at holiday time and froze them in the generator-run freezer in the basement.
Despite Lydia’s sadness over losing the chance to talk to Victoria Keller, and being upset with Sandra overstepping in town, it was wonderful to be with Josh, to feel all sealed in with him by the fiberglass buggy and the Plexiglas screen they added for a windshield in such weather. And they shared a warm lap blanket as if they were cuddled up in bed together.
When they turned in the lane to his house—she’d left her horse and buggy not in the big barn but in his small stables—he was the first to mention Sandra again.
“Sorry Sandra’s making waves when I know you thought she’d be more, well, quiet. Unfortunately, that’s not her way, but I didn’t think she’d do public interviews in a strange place. I guess I should have warned you about that, but, as I said, I’m sure she’ll keep your secret.”
“Especially if you remind her. I can tell she cares about you, so you two know each other pretty well.”
He didn’t follow up on that little fishing expedition but jumped down to open the stable door—so she thought. Instead, he hurried around and helped her down, almost as if they were a courting couple. “She said the same about you, Lydia—that is, that you care about me,” he told her as he slid open the stable door.
“Of course I do. Even more than I care for Melly and Balty.”
Now, she thought, why had she blurted that out? Because she didn’t want him to know how much she was attracted to him? “Actually, a bit more than that,” she added with a little laugh, hoping he hadn’t taken offense.
He hadn’t. It was great to be with someone who had a sense of humor, since that was in pretty short supply at her house. As he unhitched Blaze and hitched Flower to Lydia’s buggy, he grinned at her more than once.
“We have fun together,” he said, with a wink. “Since it’s so beautiful out, want to make a couple of snow angels before you head home—for old times’ sake, though I like the new times better. The menagerie can wait a few minutes. I trust the boys to take care of them. Of course, you’ll walk into your house with your backside all wet as if we’ve been rolling in the snow.”
“Which we will have been. I’ll just take my cape off.”
She untied and swirled it onto her buggy seat. On the day of a funeral, a day when their mutual friend Sandra had let them down, she knew she shouldn’t be so excited. Josh had taught her and some friends how to make snow angels years ago. She’d had a schoolgirl crush on him then, but now...
“Race you outside!” he shouted, as if he recalled that day, too.
He threw off his hat and winter coat on the way out. His small backyard, fenced off from the large animal field, looked pristine with the big flakes falling fast.
He took her hand. Laughing, they flopped down together, about two feet apart, and moved their arms and legs to make the wings and skirts.
“Angels from the realms of glory...” he started to sing, slightly off-key, but she didn’t care. The lacy flakes wet her face and stuck her lashes together when she blinked. Again, she felt she was in a snow globe and someone was shaking it, shaking the very earth when she lay so close in body and heart to this man.
He helped her up and, careful of their creations, which could soon be covered with snow anyway, they walked back toward the barn, his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist. He turned her to him, she thought at first to give her a boost up into her buggy, but his mouth descended on hers.
And it was swirling snow again, but this time in her head and heart and oh, so
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