Merry's Christmas: Two Book Set (Amish) (32 page)
Read Merry's Christmas: Two Book Set (Amish) Online
Authors: Susan Rohrer
Charity brightened. “Really? Oh, Daniel. I never dreamed... I can’t tell you how happy that would make me.” She wrapped her arms around him.
Holding her close, Daniel whispered. “What we do under our fathers’ rooftops is one thing, Charity. It would be wrong to disrespect them while we’re there. But all during this coming year, I’ll be building a new house, with a new roof to cover us. What we decide to do there, we can decide for ourselves. Together.”
Charity pulled back. She searched Daniel’s eyes longingly. “Are you sure?”
“I know it seems like a long time till the next harvest, but out of respect for our fathers, I’m asking if you can wait.”
His eyes looked so earnest, so patient, so true. Everything in her conflicted heart rested at the sight of him. “I know this has been hard for you, too—me being so torn—and you not knowing what I would do.” Charity stroked his face tenderly. She felt the light stubble along the squareness of his jaw. “I so dearly respect it that you fought for me and still, you gave me the room I needed to choose.”
Daniel smiled at her lovingly, his eyes still glistening.
Charity took his hands in hers. “I choose you, Daniel Yoder. Ivan is her home, now, and you are mine. Above all others, I choose you.”
Christmas Eve found holiday travelers bustling through Penn Station, laden with baggage. Many toted festively wrapped gifts. The station was even more crowded than when they had come.
Hope and Ivan led Charity and Daniel through the throng, toward their train’s scheduled platform. Leanne and baby Jesse weren’t far behind.
Hope pointed out an electronic sign, posting their destination. “Guess that’s you, huh?
Charity stopped. She looked back longingly. “I’m afraid so.”
Aunt Hope handed a sack to Charity. “Rhubarb. So you can make a pie for my brother, Nathan. Our secret that it’s from me.”
“Yes, so it is. Our secret.” Charity accepted the fruit appreciatively. “He’ll love it, I know.”
Ivan extended a parcel to Daniel. “Would you carry this for her?”
“It’s your Christmas present, Charity.” Hope’s eyes shone. “But open it, as soon as you’re on the train.”
For a moment, Charity fretted. “But I have nothing for you.”
“You have already given me so much, Charity, just by coming here. I can’t ever thank you enough for that. Just take this. I want you to have it.”
“All right, then. I’m sure that, whatever it is, I’ll treasure it.” As Daniel tucked the parcel under his arm, Charity smiled warmly at Ivan. “Goodbye, Uncle. Take good care of her.”
Ivan tipped his head. “I promise.”
Charity took Aunt Hope’s hand. “Daniel and I have talked about it and—once we are married, under our own roof—I hope that you will write to me.”
Aunt Hope’s eyes widened. She checked with Daniel to make sure. He nodded his approval. “You’ll read my letters?”
Charity beamed. “Quietly, for Dat’s sake. And I will open and answer every one of them.”
Aunt Hope put a cast-laden hand to her heart. “Oh, Charity. I know how much this means.”
“That’s not all, Aunt Hope,” Charity continued. Next Christmas, we hope you and Ivan will come and celebrate at our table. Perhaps by then we can persuade Dat and Opa to join us.”
Aunt Hope threw her arms around Charity.
Charity relished the embrace. “What is done in faith is not sin, Aunt Hope. And loving you could never be a sin to me.”
As they finally parted, Aunt Hope tenderly kissed Charity’s cheek. A rosy smudge of her lipstick remained. Aunt Hope used her good thumb to rub it away as best she could.
Leanne let out a hoot. “Whoops, everybody. Think I see an Amish girl with lipstick on.”
Charity traded grins with Leanne, then drew the ribbon of Aunt Hope’s kapp across her neck affectionately. “Right here. That’s how close we’ll be yet.”
“Right here.”
Charity returned a kiss to Aunt Hope’s cheek. “Till next Christmas.”
“Yes,” Aunt Hope smiled. “Next Christmas.”
Charity tore herself away. She hurried with Daniel toward the train. They slipped through the automatic doors, just before they slid to a close.
As they walked down the aisle, Charity drank in a final look through the window at those they were leaving there. Ivan put an arm around Aunt Hope as she tearfully waved goodbye. Leanne raised Jesse’s tiny hand to wave, too.
Charity and Daniel took their seats just as the train began to roll away. Unable to stave off her curiosity any longer, Charity peeked into the parcel that Daniel had set down at their feet. There was the Bright family tree quilt that Aunt Hope had made. A handwritten note was pinned to the top of it. It read:
Add to this, Charity, as our family tree grows. I love you forever.
Your devoted Aunt Hope
Overwhelmed, Charity turned to look back out their window.
Aunt Hope followed them down the platform, still waving. Her eyes shimmering with gratitude, Charity pressed her hand to the glass until they were long out of sight. With her other hand, she held Daniel’s. They would not be able to hold hands like this much longer, at least not in public. So, she kept her hand in his, all the way out of the city, across the state line, and into the rolling hills of Pennsylvania.
Never could Charity remember a time that her heart was so full. It had not been torn in two, as she had feared. Instead, it was as if it had been enlarged somehow, reaching beyond the borders they crossed in either direction.
What a wonderful adventure this trip had been, every last moment of it. As the train glided along, she reflected on all the pictures that she had taken in her mind. They were memories that would last her until the next Christmas, when they would all be together as a family once again.
Charity sighed happily. Daniel dozed at her side, his fingers still laced with hers. Never once had he complained, but apparently, so many nights on Aunt Hope’s sofa had left him shy on sleep. He had given so freely of himself the whole three weeks, even toward Leanne.
By noon, Leanne’s parents would have arrived at the Café Troubadour. They’d be reunited with their long-lost daughter. They’d meet their baby grandson, Jesse, for the very first time. Just to think of their reunion brought a smile to her face.
Hope and Myrna would be caroling to the café’s lunch crowd, blending in perfect harmony. Goldie would be ordering a tuna melt, insisting that his crinkle-cut fries should be very well done. Shep’s fingers would be dancing across the ivories as his guide dog lounged under his bench. Ivan would be washing dishes till they sparkled, making Frank glad that he had the good sense to hire him. Maybe Frank would even let him cook in time.
How beautifully everything had worked out for Aunt Hope and Ivan. Soon, they would be married. Their lives would find a new rhythm in the city, and she would always have been a part of that. What a privilege it seemed.
As hard as it had been to leave, a lightness filled her spirit about going back. The farther they traveled, the more she longed for the familiar fields of home. Dat, Opa, Aaron, and Isaac would be waiting for them at the train station in town. Bethany would surely be there, too. She’d be there with those shining eyes of hers, bobbing on her toes, waiting to hear every last detail about absolutely everything that had happened. How she’d missed all of them, and how right it felt to be returning with Daniel to the life she loved so well.
Before bedtime, she’d start preparing Christmas dinner. Opa would have a turkey ready to dress and roast overnight. In the morning, there would be fresh curly kale from the garden, and yams to make with that brown sugar-cinnamon with oats topping her brothers always craved. She would think of Aunt Hope as she cut up the rhubarb to make Dat’s very favorite pie.
Daniel stirred beside her with the jostling of the train. He brushed her arm fondly before his eyes fluttered back to a close. What a good man he was, and how assured she felt of his love. It would be her joy to marry him, to make a home and life together, to add to their family tree.
Lightly, Charity ran her fingers along the ribbons of Aunt Hope’s kapp, knowing that, in their spirits, they were still together. And they would be, she reminded herself, until next Christmas found them feasting at their table.
As Charity drank in the passing landscape, a soft snow began to fall. Somehow she knew that, far across the miles, Aunt Hope would be singing the very same song that rose in her own brimming heart. Daniel slept at her side, in what could only be described as heavenly peace. This Christmas night would, indeed, be both silent and holy. All was so calm, so full of wonder and promise, and at the same time, so radiantly bright.
About the Author
S
USAN
R
OHRER
is an honor graduate of James Madison University where she studied Art and Communications, and thereafter married in her native state of Virginia.
A professional writer, producer, and director specializing in redemptive entertainment, Rohrer’s credits in one or more of these capacities include: a screen adaptation of
God
’
s Trombones;
100 episodes of drama series
Another Life;
Humanitas Prize finalist & Emmy winner
Never Say Goodbye;
Emmy nominees
Terrible Things My Mother Told Me
and
The Emancipation of Lizzie Stern;
anthology
No Earthly Reason;
NAACP Image Award nominee
Mother
’
s Day;
AWRT Public Service Award winner (for addressing the problem of teen sexual harassment)
Sexual Considerations;
comedy series
Sweet Valley High;
telefilms
Book of Days,
and
Another Pretty Face;
Emmy nominee & Humanitas Prize finalist
If I Die Before I Wake;
as well as
Film Advisory Board & Christopher Award winner
About Sarah
.
Among the other books she has authored, Rohrer’s fictional titles,
Merry’s Christmas, Virtually Mine, Bright Christmas: an Amish love story, What Laurel Sees,
and
Bridle My Heart
are all part of the Redeeming Romance Series, a collection of inspirational love stories adapted from Rohrer’s original screenplays.
Please Note:
Out of respect for Amish sensibilities, the author has chosen not to include a personal photograph in this book set. For more information about this author and her books, click:
R
EDEEMING
R
OMANCES
BY
S
USAN
R
OHRER
