An Amish Christmas. Patricia Davids

when they reached the end of the Sutters’ lane. “Do you still wish to go into Hope Springs?”

      What he wanted was to lie down somewhere dark and quiet and let his mind travel back to that green, hot place and stay there until he saw the face of the woman who had been with him. As much as he wanted to do that, he knew he couldn’t stop now. “Let’s keep going. I want to see as many people as I can today.”

      * * *

      Karen studied John with deep concern. His color was pale, his eyes sunken with pain. He looked as if he might topple out of the buggy at any second. He kept one hand pressed to his forehead in an attempt to block the light from his eyes.

      When she didn’t start Molly moving, he glanced at her. “What’s wrong? I said let’s go into town.”

      She let out a sigh. “Nee, we are going home. You have done too much today. You are in pain and you need rest.”

      He sat up straight to hide his weakness. “I’m fine. It’s just a headache.”

      “Men! Always trying to show how tough they are. Anyone with eyes in their head can see you are done in. We will go home now and that is the end of it. Tomorrow will be here soon enough.”

      “I’ll be okay,” he insisted.

      “Ja. When you have had a rest I’m sure you will be fine.” Clicking her tongue, she urged Molly onto the highway and sent her trotting briskly toward their farm.

      “Are you always this domineering?”

      He had no idea how tough she could be, but he just might find out. “When I must tell a child what to do, ja, I am.”

      “Now you’re saying I’m acting like a child?”

      “A stubborn, willful child.”

      “I’m going to let that slide. I can see arguing with you is fruitless. When did you take over the job of raising your brothers and sister?”

      “I am the eldest daughter. It is expected of me to care for the younger ones. My mother was killed four years ago if that is what you are asking?”

      “You do a good job with them.”

      “They are goot children. They make the job easy.”

      “Even Jacob?”

      “Jacob is in a hurry to be the man of the house. He wants to take over for our father until Papa is well.”

      “But you don’t want him to do that.”

      She hadn’t realized her fear was that transparent. “Being a farrier is a hard job. It takes strength. A man must know how to read a horse. Some of the draft horses my father works on weigh nearly a ton. A man can shoe a horse nine times without trouble and on the tenth time that horse decides he wants to kill the farrier.”

      “I didn’t say you were wrong to worry.”

      Her annoyance slipped away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that he is so young yet. He idolized Seth, our brother who was killed. Seth was big and strong like Papa, not slender like Jacob. Seth had the touch when it came to horses. Mamm used to say he could whisper to them and they did just as he wished. Jacob wants to be a horseman like Seth was but he is impatient.”

      John sat back and stared into space. “A horseman. He wants to be a horseman, a geils-mann. Here is my geils-mann loafing under a tree.”

      Karen eyed him with concern. “What are you talking about?”

      He focused on her face. “I had another memory flash. It was summer, and I was sitting under an apple tree. There was a woman behind me. She said, ‘Here is my geils­mann loafing under a tree.’ I heard the words clear as day.”

      “Who was she?” Karen asked.

      “I don’t know. I didn’t see her face.”

      “How did you know what the word meant?” she asked in surprise.

      “I’m not sure. I just know.”

      As the ramifications of his comment sank in, Karen’s heart sank, too. Geils-mann was an Amish expression. Only someone raised speaking Pennsylvania Dutch would use the word. If John had not been raised Amish then the woman he spoke of surely had been. Karen glanced at John. Who was John Doe and who was this woman to him?

      * * *

      Several days later, John was outside early in the morning gathering a load of wood for his stove when he saw Nick Bradley drive into the yard. John’s heart jumped into overdrive. Maybe the sheriff’s investigation had turned up something new. He waited with bated breath as Nick climbed out of his SUV.

      Touching the brim of his hat, Nick said, “Morning. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d check and see how you’re doing.”

      “I’m fine. Have you learned anything new?”

      “No. I’m sorry.”

      John’s anticipation drained away. He carried the logs to the box beside his front door and dropped them. He’d have to learn not to get his hopes up. Somehow.

      Nick said, “I was hoping you might have found out something. Not that I want you to make me look bad.”

      “No worries. I’m still a walking blank. I’ve had a few flashes of memory, but nothing concrete.”

      “Are you writing them down?”

      John paused and looked at the sheriff. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

      “You should. Even the smallest thing you recall might help me. How’s the head?” He pointed to John’s bandage.

      “Better.”

      “My cousin Amber wanted me to remind you that you need to come in to Dr. White’s office and get your stitches out.”

      He rubbed gingerly at his dressing. The sutures had started to itch. “I know I was supposed to go in a few days ago, but I’ve had other things on my mind.”

      “I’ve got time to run you into Hope Springs this morning. Shall I see if they can work you in? I’m free for a while unless I get a call.”

      “That would be great, but how do I get back if you’ve got to leave?” A light dusting of snow covered the ground this morning and occasional flakes drifted down from the gray sky. John didn’t want to walk five miles back to the farm in this weather.

      “We have a couple of folks in town that provide taxi services to the Amish. Amber can arrange a ride if you need it.” Nick made the phone call.

      After a brief conversation, he closed the phone. “All set. They can see you in half an hour.”

      “Let me tell Miss Imhoff where I’m going. She likes to keep a tight leash on me.”

      Nick chuckled. “I’ve heard she can be a tough cookie.”

      The two men walked toward the main house. Nick asked, “How’s it working out? You staying here.”

      “It’s fine. The boy, Jacob, isn’t thrilled, but Noah and Anna don’t seem to mind. Eli is taking a wait-and-see attitude.”

      “And Karen?”

      John glanced toward the house. “She’s been very kind.”

      Before they reached the steps, Eli came out to greet them. His stoic face showed nothing of what he was thinking. He nodded to the sheriff. “Goot day to you.”

      “The same to you, Eli. I’m going to take John into town so Doc White can check him out. I’ll see that he gets back, too. How is your arm?”

      Flexing his fingers in the sling, Eli said, “It is healing.”

      Jacob came out of the house followed by Anna and Noah. The children hung back at the sight