Her Amish Christmas Choice. Leigh Bale

“Ne, Timmy can do that. You and Hank komm inside now. I want to hear all about your day.”

      “Ah, don’t say anything important while I’m gone,” Timmy called. But the boy obediently took hold of the horse’s halter and led him into the barn.

      Once they were inside, they washed and sat down at the spacious table in the kitchen. Mamm had already laid out the plates and utensils. The room was warm and smelled of something good cooking on the stove. With six hungry children and a husband to feed, Linda always made plenty. Only Martin’s nineteen-year-old sister, Karen, was missing. She was newly married and lived back east with her husband.

      “Ach, did you get the job?” His father sat down and looked at him expectantly.

      “Ja, we got the job,” Hank answered for him. The boy beamed with eagerness and Martin didn’t have the heart to scold him for speaking out of turn. After all, the job was his, too.

      Martin smiled with tolerance and purposefully waited until Timmy returned from the barn before speaking. Because they prayed before eating, they had to wait for the boy anyway.

      Once everyone was assembled, David beckoned to his wife. “Mudder, komm and sit.”

      David pointed at her chair and Martin watched as his mother sat at the opposite end of the table, nearest the stove. As each member of the familye bowed their head to bless the food, he couldn’t help loving this nightly ritual. His mom was always up and buzzing around the table to see to everyone’s needs. But during evening prayer, she sat reverently with her familye for these few minutes while they gave thanks to the Lord.

      When they were finished, everyone dug in and she hopped up to pull a pan of fresh-baked cornbread from the oven.

      “Hank and I will be doing handyman work.” Martin speared two pork chops and laid them on his plate. The clatter of utensils and eating filled the room, but no one spoke as they waited to hear every word he said.

      “What kind of handyman work?” David asked as he spread golden butter across a hot piece of cornbread.

      Martin sliced off a piece of meat and popped it into his mouth. He chewed for several moments before swallowing, then explained his tasks and asked his father’s advice on how to assemble the cabinets in Julia’s workroom. The conversation bounced around various topics but kept coming back to his new job.

      “Julia’s nice, too. She’s real schee.” Hank spoke with his mouth full of cooked carrots.

      David’s bushy eyebrows shot up and he looked at Martin. “Julia?”

      “Ja, Julia Rose. She’s my new boss,” Martin said. “She lives with her mudder in that old building Walter Rose owned. Apparently, Julia was his granddaughter. It seems that old Walt died a couple months back and left the place to her. She’s renovating it so she can sell handmade soap.”

      “Soap?” David said the word abruptly, like it didn’t make sense.

      Martin shrugged and took a long drink of fresh milk. “Ja, she sells it to stores across the nation.”

      “Humph, I guess the Englisch don’t make their own so they have to buy it somewhere,” David said. “But I thought you’d be working for a man. How old is this Julia?”

      Martin took a deep breath, trying to answer truthfully while not alarming his father. After all, it wasn’t seemly that an unmarried Amish man should be working for a young, attractive Englisch woman. “She’s twenty-three but she stays in the house most of the time while Hank and I work outside. The job is only for six or seven weeks, so it’ll be over with soon enough.”

      His father’s gaze narrowed and rested on him like a ten-ton sledge. Martin felt as though the man were looking deep inside of him for the truth. Linda also paused in front of the counter where she was slicing big wedges of cherry pie. She didn’t say anything, waiting for her husband’s verdict on this turn of events, but Martin could tell from her expression that she was worried.

      “Ach, I guess you’ve got Hank with you all the time, so you’re not alone with this woman,” David finally said. “And once it’s done, you’ll have enough money to build your barn in the spring. But don’t forget who you are and what Gott expects from you, sohn. Always remember your faith.”

      “I will,” Martin assured him.

      “But she’s Englisch. Are you sure this is wise?” Linda asked, her brow furrowed in a deep frown.

      “Mamm, don’t worry,” Martin reassured her with a short laugh. “I’m a grown man and know how to handle myself. Besides, it’s only for a short time. It isn’t as if I’m going to fall in love and leave our faith or something crazy like that, so rest your fears.”

      “And besides, Julia’s gonna be my maedel, not Mar-tin’s,” Hank said.

      David and Linda shared a look of concern, to which Martin quickly explained the boy’s desire for Julia to be his girl. “I’ve already told Hank that Julia isn’t Amish and she’s too old for him anyway.”

      Without missing a beat, Martin’s sister Emily handed him a bowl of boiled potatoes. Martin forked several onto his plate. The whole familye knew the drill, having discussed issues like this a zillion times before.

      “Why does it matter if Julia isn’t Amish?” Hank asked with a frown.

      Linda shook her head and shooed Hank’s question away with her hand. “She’s not of our faith. She’s not one of us.” Handing plates of pie to Emily to pass around the table, she leaned against the counter and faced Martin again. “So, tell us something about this woman boss of yours.”

      Taking a bite of buttered potato, Martin kept his voice slow and even, trying not to say anything that might overly alarm his mother. “She and her mudder live a simple life like us. They don’t wear makeup or fancy clothes. Nor do they own a car or use electricity. Julia has even asked me a couple of questions about our faith. And she’s devoted to her mudder, who is sickly.”

      Linda winced with sympathy. “What’s wrong with her?”

      “She has lupus. Julia’s father recently died of cancer. Julia’s been earning a living for them and taking care of her parents. From what I can see, she’s a gut, hardworking woman.”

      “But she’s not Amish,” David said, his bushy eyebrows raised in a stern look that allowed for no more discussion on the matter.

      Linda stepped near and rested a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “Ach, you’ll be careful not to be drawn in by her, won’t you, sohn? I couldn’t bear to lose you. You’ll remember what your vadder and I have taught you and stay true to your faith.”

      He met his mother’s eyes, his convictions filling his heart. He could never stand to hurt her by chasing after an Englisch woman. “You don’t need to worry about me, Mamm. I will only marry someone of our faith. This I vow.”

      “Gut. It’s too bad you can’t convert Julia to our faith.” Linda showed a smile of relief and finally sat down to eat her own supper. The conversation turned to what the younger children were learning in school.

      Martin ate his meal, listening to the chatter around him. He’d done his best to alleviate his parents’ concerns but knew they were worried. And he agreed that it was too bad Julia wasn’t Amish. If she were, his parents would have no reservations about him working with her.

      As he carried his dishes over to the sink for washing, he listened to Hank’s incessant chatter and a feeling of expectancy built within his chest. He couldn’t wait to return to work in the morning and be near Julia again. And though he refused to consider the options, he knew deep inside that it had little to do with the money he would earn and more to do with his pretty employer.

      But he meant what he’d said. He