Christmas in Sugarcreek (10 page)

“I am,” he said, picking up his fork and digging in. “This is
gut
.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Mr. Graber said expansively.

“
Gut naught
. I’m going to sleep,” Judith said, leaving them quickly.

As her parents wished her pleasant dreams, Ben continued to eat. It was probably a very good idea to try to be a bit more distant. After all, Judith was a woman far better than he deserved.

All his life, everyone had told him so. And though he’d never been one to let others see his pain, the jibes had stuck with him. Even after all this time.

Chapter Thirteen

Five Days Until Christmas

B
en had quick reactions, and that was a fact. The moment Judith ran into him in the hall, he’d reached out and held her shoulders steady. “Easy, there.”

She didn’t need a mirror to know she was blushing. She could practically feel the blood rush to her cheeks as they stood too close together. “I’m sorry,” she blurted.

Of course, she didn’t move a step away, either. What was wrong with her?

His grip loosened, but he didn’t drop his hands. Actually, he looked happy to stand there in the hall with her, exchanging greetings. “It’s all right. I should have looked where I was going.”

“It’s my fault.” She hadn’t been thinking about much except for reaching her goal: the bathroom sink. She’d been eager to wash her face and brush her teeth before he saw her.

But now the worst had just happened. He was standing chest to chest with her. Looking at her way too closely.

Ach! With a bold step to her right, she pulled herself out of his grip and reached a hand out toward the door. “I’ll see you downstairs. I just need to . . . um . . . get ready.”

“I’ll see you then.” He winked at her. Winked!

Then turned and walked away. Whistling.

“Do you want the bathroom now? Or do you want to watch his backside for another few minutes?”

Judith turned on her heel and glared hard at her brother. “Caleb, hush!”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry. I’m just saying what I see . . . which is you staring at Ben Knox. Again.”

“I wasn’t staring. Much,” she added when his raised his eyebrows.

“I didn’t say nothing was wrong with it. Just teasing ya.”

“I know.” She glanced back down the hall. When she was satisfied that Ben was out of earshot, she looked at Caleb. “Do you think Ben and I would be a bad couple?”

“Are you courting?”

“
Nee.
But if we were . . .”

“I suppose he’d be a fine match for you. If any man wanted to put up with your bossy nature.”

“You’re not much help.”

“Sorry. I’ve got my own relationships to think about.”

“Is Rebecca giving you problems?”

“No. But I think she’s hiding something from me.”

“Like what?” Caleb’s problems were far easier to concentrate on than hers.

“I don’t have any idea. It’s just a feeling I have that I can’t seem to shake.” He wrinkled his brow. “She never wants me to take her home. Do you know much about her or her family?”

“Not really.”

“I think she likes me. And I like her, too. It’s just I feel like I’m missing something important about her.”

Judith was coming to realize that she was feeling the same way about Ben. Though their conversations were fairly easy, and he was always courteous to her, she was sure he was keeping something from her. “I guess all you can do is try and talk to her,” she mumbled.

Caleb’s expression turned bleak. “I’ll try.

“Good luck, brother. I best get in here before Mamm wonders why I’m taking my time.”

“And she will,” Caleb said with a laugh. “I’ll go downstairs and try to distract her.”

Judith went through her morning routine as quickly as possible, then raced downstairs. There she found Ben sitting at the table with Maggie. They both looked up at her when she approached the table with a bowl of hot oatmeal.

“Hi, Judith!” Maggie said before picking up a crayon and handing it to Ben. “Color the horse blue,” she commanded to Ben.

“Maggie, don’t speak that way to our guest.”

“It’s all right, Judith,” Ben said. “We’re just having fun together.”

Having fun together? Since when did Ben enjoy sitting with a five-year-old and coloring? Pushing that question aside, she concentrated on her little sister’s behavior. “Even if you two are only having fun, that’s no way to talk to people,
shveshtah
.”

Immediately, Maggie looked contrite. “I’m sorry.”

Ben raised his eyes to Judith’s before concentrating back on Maggie. “Why should the horse be blue? I thought Beauty was right fine as a brown horse.”

“This ain’t Beauty. She’s outside in her stall.”

“Ah. Yes, I suppose she is,” he murmured. “So the ones in the book are blue?”

“Yup. I want pretty horses.”

“Then that’s what you should have,” he said. Just as if it made perfect sense.

Though Judith had colored her share of pink, purple, and blue horses, she was still caught off guard seeing Ben in this new light. Somewhat stunned, she sat down.

The evidence was right there in front of her, as plain as day. He was now very different from the boy she’d known back in school. He wasn’t trying to be shocking, he was trying to fit in. And he didn’t get angry, not even when Anson asked him a hundred questions or her father asked him to work late . . . or Maggie told him to color the horses on her book correctly.

Her heart softened toward him just a little more—or maybe she just realized she was finally allowing herself to like him very much.

“Judith?” he said, looking at her curiously. “Are you all right?”

“Oh.
Jah.
Sure.”

He smiled at her then and went back to coloring beside Maggie.

Judith leaned back and watched the two of them, just to see what he would do next.

Of course, what he did shouldn’t have been a surprise. After picking out a crayon, he began to color the horse blue. Even going as far as to outline it as well.

Maggie got to her feet and braced her hands on his shoulders, before nodding. “You are doing
gut
. That’s a pretty horse.”

“Thank you, Maggie. What color should the grass be?”

Maggie giggled. “Green, of course.”

“Of course.” He picked up another crayon and got to work. Looking quietly content. As if there was nothing he’d rather be doing.

And as Judith watched, she knew the worst thing possible was happening. Little by little, her heart was becoming claimed by Ben Knox. It came as something of a surprise, too. Here, she’d gotten by for so long, planning and organizing, doing everything right. Weighing consequences.

But none of that seemed to matter. All that did matter was that when she looked at Ben, her insides warmed. And her pulse raced . . . and before she knew it, she was smiling at him.

And he was smiling right back at her.

Thirty minutes later, as they left the shelter of the barn, the bright day seemed blinding.

“When have you ever seen such a blue sky in December?” Ben asked, smiling as he guided Beauty down the snow-packed driveway.

“I’m sure I can’t remember.” Unable to keep the wistfulness from her voice, Judith said, “I thought we were due for more snow.”

“The newspapers said tomorrow, I think.”

“Maybe it will continue until Christmas Day,” she said, enchanted by the idea. “Wouldn’t that be
wunderbaar
? To have a white Christmas? Then it would be the most perfect day imaginable.”

He shrugged. “I suppose.”

The sadness in his eyes couldn’t be ignored. At least, not any longer. “Ben, why did you come back? Really?”

He said nothing as he guided the buggy onto the main street, then got Beauty settled, letting her clip-clop along, staying to the side of the traffic.

Feeling embarrassed, she rested her back against the lightly cushioned seat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to answer you,” he said slowly. “It’s just that I don’t know the right answer.”

“You honestly don’t know why you came back?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. At first, it was to see Sugarcreek one last time. Then it was because I wanted to put the house up for sale. To end everything here.”

“End?”

“You know what I mean. I needed to move on with my life. I still do.”

“You weren’t happy here, were you?”

“Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“No. No, I wasn’t happy here at all.” His lips thinned, as if even remembering his hardships caused true pain.

She ached to understand. “Because your
mamm
was sick?”

“Oh, Judith. She wasn’t sick. She left because she was unhappy.”

Dismay that he’d gone through such a terrible situation—and that she’d been oblivious to it—almost stole her breath away. “And what of your
daed
? Did you get along with him?”

He shook his head. As they stopped at a light he looked at her again. “Judith, for most of my life, my parents didn’t expect much from me. As far as I could tell, they saw me as more of a burden than anything. But I got used to that. What hurt was that no one challenged them. Ever.”

“What do you mean?”

“Teachers. Friends of my parents. Even people like you . . . were determined to believe I was bad. No matter what I did, it seemed like I was only seen in a bad light. When I was late to school, the teacher was sure it was because I was lazy—never that I had to stay at home and finish my chores.” As Beauty carried them forward, he clicked his tongue softly to the horse, then continued. “Later, when I failed a test, everyone always assumed it was because I didn’t care about school. That I didn’t try.” He glanced her way. “No one ever thought that maybe I honestly didn’t understand the material.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looked toward the horizon. “You shouldn’t be. A lot of the time, I kept so many of my feelings hidden, most people were probably afraid to even try to help me. I’m not going to lie—I know a lot of the times I was a pretty bad kid.”

“I never thought you were bad.”

He clicked to Beauty again, encouraging her to pick up the pace. “Come now, Judith. You might not have told people I was bad . . . but you certainly didn’t think that I was any good.”

“I was nervous,” she blurted. Appalled that she shared such news with him. And appalled that she still felt the same way. To some extent. “Being around you made me nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t follow the rules. And even more, you seemed to find the rules amusing.”

“That’s because all those rules about proper behavior never seemed to apply to me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Judith, I can’t tell you the number of evenings I was denied supper because I wasn’t good enough. Or the number of times it was suggested I should
not
attend a singing or a gathering because I might be disruptive. No one gave me a chance. No one ever wanted to take the chance that maybe, just maybe, they were wrong.”

“Is that what you think about me? Ben, you don’t have to believe me, but I never wanted to believe the worst in you. I’m not that horrible.”

“You’re not horrible at all, Judith.” He turned the buggy into the store’s parking lot, then neatly guided Beauty into the shelter at the back of the store. “I’ve never thought that. Besides. If anyone did have the right to think only the worst of me, it would have to be you.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

After pulling up the brake, he reached for her hand. “I mean that I knew I made you uncomfortable. And that I don’t blame your actions. Truth be told, there were a number of times when I tried to make nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because to me, you were everything good. Because you had everything I knew I didn’t have.”

“Ben, you’re making no sense . . .”

“Judith, when I looked at you, I saw your brothers who looked out for you. I saw your mother, who came up as often as she could to help out. I saw the way your
daed
smiled at you when we were at church, and I saw how the teacher praised your perfect grades. To me, you were perfect . . . and I knew I was far from that.”

When she stared at him in shock, he shook his head in wonder. As if she was truly the silliest woman on the planet. “Because I’ve liked you for years, Judith Graber. You are everything a man wants. And everything a man dreams about.”

“Me?” she sputtered.

“You. Judith, you are proper and lovely. You have a family that everyone admires. You treat others well and are as smart as any man.” Looking down at his hands, he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “See, for as long as I can remember, I wished you were my girl.”

She was confused and flattered and shocked and thrilled. But above all that, she ached for him. Ached that he’d been so misunderstood, by all of them. “I didn’t know,” she said softly. “I didn’t know how you felt.”

He dropped her hand and sat back. “Now you do. Now you know yet another reason why I came back.” He tucked his chin, like he was embarrassed for her to know. “I wanted to see you one last time.”

Though his confessions were spinning in her mind, she couldn’t quite bring all the strands together. “I’m sorry. I still don’t know . . .”