A Family for Christmas (5 page)

A
fter Evan prepared the fire to hold through the night, he turned out the lights in the family room. Hand in hand they walked upstairs. He paused at the threshold of her room. “I get up at four o'clock to go to the dairy barn, and it will be ten before I come in. Sleep as late as you want and then find your way downstairs.”

“Why do you get up so early?” she whispered, not wanting to wake his sisters.

“The cows are milked twice a day. I have to start early, so the afternoon milking can begin by four o'clock.”

If Evan didn't finish until ten o'clock in the morning and went back out again at four in the afternoon, she wouldn't see much of him. But she wouldn't make his work any harder by complaining. After all, Evan had put aside his plans for the future to help his father. She realized he was sacrificing, too.

Perhaps sensing her disappointment, Evan said, “We
hired a man and his wife to do the second milking, so we can spend every afternoon and evening together. I'd like to take you to see Daddy tomorrow afternoon.”

“I'd love that,” Wendy said sincerely, wanting very much to see the kind of man Karl Kessler was to cause his son to drop his own plans to take over his work. She lifted her face for his kiss and Evan didn't disappoint her.

Wendy closed the door and a warm glow of welcome surrounded her as she entered the room that had been prepared for her. A Tiffany-style table lamp shed a soft glow over her bed. The bedspread had been removed and the sheets turned down. Wendy laid her hand on the homemade quilt and felt warmth. An investigation revealed that there was a heated mattress pad on the bed. The room was cool, and she dreaded changing into her nightclothes.

An open Bible and a daily devotional book lay on the nightstand. She sat in the rocker beside the bed and picked up the book.

The verse for the day was “Do not be afraid, Mary, for God has been gracious to you.”

Wendy read with interest the comment on the Scripture. “Perhaps when the Angel of the Lord appeared to Mary, she may have thought that she was in trouble. She soon discovered that she was being called to a particular mission—to play a part in God's great act of salvation. Was Mary afraid to undertake the mission? Did she feel inadequate to become the mother of the Messiah? Perhaps she sensed that this mission would lead to a difficult life full of heartaches, but she'd said yes.”

Wendy rocked slowly, listening to the wind blowing around the house. Was her situation similar to Mary's? Was it God's plan for her to marry Evan and become the mother of his children? Was God calling her to establish her roots in southern Ohio?

The room was cool, but Wendy unpacked a few of her clothes, slipped into her nightgown and got into bed.

Immediately she felt pampered and loved. The bed was warm, and she sensed the love that the Kessler family had shared in this house for generations. She knew that the same love was hers for the asking.

She turned off the lamp and the room was plunged into total darkness. She sat up in bed frightened. She reached out her hand to turn on the lamp again, but she stopped. What did she have to fear? Evan was only a short distance away.

She resisted the urge to turn on the light and settled deep under the covers. She slipped her hand under the pillow and touched a flashlight. Laughing softly, she turned on the light and flashed it around the room, discovering that the Praying Hands figurine on the nightstand, that she'd thought was an ornament, was really a night-light. She pushed a button on the figurine and a faint light glowed around her. Hilda had thought of everything for her comfort!

The warmth from the heated mattress pad eased her body, and Wendy went to sleep.

 

Wendy awakened to a soft crackling sound and realized that the room was warmer than it had been
when she'd gone to bed. She traced the noise to heating radiators under the windows.

She was so comfortable she didn't want to leave her bed, but she opened her eyes and saw a white piece of paper near the door. She slipped out of the warm bed, retrieved the note and got back under the covers before she read it.

“Good morning, darling,” Evan had written. “I hope you had a good night's rest. I'm counting the hours until we can be together again.”

Wendy held the note close to her heart. It was six o'clock, and she wondered what time she should get up. She hadn't heard anyone stir, but after a while, she got up, put on a robe and walked to the window. Daylight was breaking softly, and Wendy had her first look at the farmland Evan loved so much.

The house was on a knoll, overlooking wide fields along the banks of a big muddy river. A row of leafless trees marked a large curve in the river, and Wendy had a slight view of wooded hills above the house. Apparently, the farm buildings were behind the house and hidden from her view.

Accustomed to green trees all year round, the landscape looked stark to Wendy. A few oak trees still retained their brown leaves, and there were patches of evergreens in the middle of the forest. Could she ever be content to live in an area like this when she'd grown up in a sunny climate in a state surrounded by sandy beaches, palm trees and lively tourist attractions?

She turned from the window when she heard a slight knock on the adjoining bathroom door.

“Come in,” she said, and Olivia opened the door and peeked in. The girl's eyes were heavy with sleep and her short blond hair was tousled.

“Just checking to see if you're up. We usually eat breakfast at seven, but Mom said to let you sleep late today. I've got to hurry and get ready for school, so I'll take my shower first, if you don't mind.”

“Go ahead. Do you ride a bus to school?”

“Yes, and it comes at quarter to eight. This is Marcy's first year in college. She drives to Rio Grande every day. She has a nine-o'clock class so she's ready to leave. I'll hurry so you can get ready for the day.”

Wendy went back to bed until Olivia tapped on the door again. “I'm going now, Wendy,” she called. “You'll have the upstairs to yourself. See you tonight.”

The house seemed unusually quiet after Olivia's running steps disappeared down the stairway. Wendy stayed in bed a few more minutes, alternately dreading and looking forward to the day. She couldn't hear anything except the hissing of the radiators, which wasn't surprising, considering the ten-inch-thick brick walls.

 

Hilda was in the family room, reading the Bible, when Wendy opened the door.

“Good morning, Wendy,” Hilda said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. The bed was so warm and cozy that I hated to leave it. I'm not used to cold weather.”

Hilda glanced at Wendy's lightweight slacks,
blouse and sandals. “In this area, most of us have three different wardrobes. One set of clothing for winter, another for summer and a third one for spring and fall. Maybe Evan can take you shopping this afternoon.”

Wendy shook her head. “I don't want to buy clothes to wear for two weeks in Ohio that I can't use when I go back to Florida. I'll just have to be cold.”

“We'll think of something,” Hilda said. “What would you like to have for breakfast?”

“A glass of milk and a sweet roll would be fine.”

“Well, I can provide that,” Hilda said, standing and walking to the kitchen. “Evan drinks coffee and eats a pastry of some kind before he goes to the barn. I have a big breakfast ready for him when he finishes the work. You can eat a little now and then eat with him. How does that sound?”

“Fine. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not just yet, but everyone works around here, so I'll soon have something for you to do.”

 

Evan brought the smell of the barn with him when he came into the house, and Wendy wrinkled her nose when she went to the utility room to greet him. She hardly recognized him as the man she loved. He wore stained coveralls and a pair of muddy boots. A wool cap covered his blond curls. When Evan bent to kiss her, his whiskers scratched her face. He seemed like a stranger to her.

In the midst of the pleasure of having Wendy in
his home, Evan was aware of the puzzled look on her face, and he guessed the reason for it.

Grinning, he said, “I can't run a farm looking like a fashion model.” He hung his cap on a wall rack, removed his boots and shrugged out of the coveralls. In his flannel shirt and jeans, he looked more like the man she knew.

Victor trotted into the room, planted his paws on Evan's chest and barked into his face.

“Hungry, are you?” Evan said. He pushed Victor aside and poured some pet food into a tray and filled the dog's water bowl.

“Is breakfast ready?” Evan asked.

“Yes. Hurry and wash up. Your mother has a lot of good food ready, and I'm hungry.”

Wendy had watched with interest as Hilda made biscuits from scratch, prepared low-fat bacon on the grill and scrambled several eggs. When Wendy tasted the biscuits spread with blackberry jelly, she couldn't believe the difference between those biscuits and the ones she'd eaten in restaurants. When she commented on the jelly, Hilda said, “Blackberries grow wild on the farm. I made the jelly last summer.”

When they entered the kitchen, Hilda had already had breakfast. She sat at the table and sipped some coffee.

“Wendy and I have been talking about her clothes,” she said to Evan.

“I should have told her about the different climate, but I've been so worried about Daddy, I forgot it. I'm sure you don't even own heavy clothes,” he said to Wendy.

“That's true. I've never been in a really cold climate before. I knew it would be colder up here, so it's no big problem. I'll only be here two weeks.”

“Yes, but there's no reason for you to be cold while you're here,” Hilda said. “I don't know why I didn't think of this before. My niece moved to Arizona last year, and she left her winter clothes for my girls. But she's taller than Olivia and Marcy, and although Olivia may grow into them, she can't wear them now. The clothes are clean and hanging in the closet in garment bags. You're about Annie's size, and you're welcome to use the clothes.”

“That's a good idea, Mom,” Evan said, pushing back from the table to cross his right leg over his knee. “Wendy, if you can wear one of Annie's coats and some boots, your other clothes will be fine.”

“They're all right when I'm in the house, but yesterday at the airport, I thought I'd freeze. I'll be glad if I can borrow a heavy coat, and I'll buy a pair of boots. Thanks.”

“My niece had some sweatpants and shirts that will be good for lounging around the house, too,” Hilda said. “I'll lay out some of Annie's clothes while you're at the hospital.”

 

They found Karl Kessler on the fifth floor of Holzer Hospital, resting after a rigorous morning of physical therapy. The stroke had not only left serious paralysis of his left side, but his speech was impaired, too.

A smile creased his face when Evan and Wendy entered his room. Evan elevated his bed to a reclining position and said, “Daddy, this is my friend Wendy.”

Karl extended his right hand and squeezed Wendy's hand with a firm grip. “Happy…to meet…you,” he said slowly.

Karl Kessler was a stocky man with powerful shoulders, graying hair and dark blue eyes. Evan didn't look like him now, but Wendy knew this was how Evan would look when he was Karl's age. Although she liked Evan's mother, Wendy was still a bit uneasy around Hilda, but she experienced an instant bond with Karl Kessler. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

“And I'm happy to meet you, sir. Evan has talked about you a lot.”

Tears glistened in Karl's eyes, and he said, “I see…why…Evan…likes you…so much.”

As they talked, occasional flashes of pain crossed Karl's face, but he listened eagerly as Evan told him about the farm activities. Evan reported on how many gallons of milk they'd shipped the day before, how they were herding the livestock into barns and sheds because of the cold snap that was predicted.

Karl asked a few questions in his halting voice. And Evan requested his father's advice on several business matters relating to the farm. Wendy didn't have any idea what they were talking about most of the time, but she listened carefully, marveling at the bond of affection and respect between the two men.

During the few times she'd seen her father in her adult years, they'd never had anything to talk about. When he came to see her and took her out to dinner and to buy some new clothes, she didn't know what
to say. What would her life have been like if her parents hadn't divorced? Would she have had this warm relationship with her parents that the Kesslers took for granted?

When it was obvious that Karl was getting tired, Evan said, “We'll go now, but Mom is coming back tonight.”

He took his father's right hand and clasped Wendy's hands. “Let's have a prayer together,” he said. While he prayed, Wendy wondered if the Christian faith the Kesslers shared had made them the affectionate family they were.

The more she was around Evan and his family, the more her love for him increased, but so did her doubts. It may have been a mistake for her to come to Ohio. Considering the differences in their backgrounds, she doubted that she could ever feel at home with his family.

All the time they were with Karl, Evan had an up-beat attitude as he laughed and joked with his father about various farm incidents. But when they returned to the truck, Evan leaned his head on the steering wheel, and his shoulders shook with sobs.

“Oh, Evan!” Wendy said, moving close to him and putting her arms around his heaving shoulders.

“I can't stand to see him that way,” he said. “As long as I can remember, he's been a forceful, hardworking man. As a child, I thought there wasn't anything my daddy couldn't do. He's always had a strong voice. He sings in a barbershop quartet, and he's one of the main singers in our church choir. Now he can't even talk.”