Amish Christmas Blessings. Marta Perry

the house. As always at this time of day, Elizabeth was in the kitchen. She was bent over the propane oven, her face flushed as she pulled out two apple pies, their crusts golden brown and the apple juices bubbling up through the vents.

      “That wouldn’t be Benjamin’s favorite pie, would it?” Anna forced warmth into her voice as she stowed her medical bag on its shelf by the door.

      “Ach, you caught me.” Elizabeth transferred the pies to the wire cooling rack and turned, smiling.

      Anna’s heart gave a little thump. Elizabeth was so happy. How could Anna be skeptical of anything that made her feel that way?

      “He’ll appreciate those, I know.” Surely nothing he’d found in the outside world could match his own mamm’s cooking. “Can I do anything?”

      Elizabeth surveyed the pots on the stove top. “I don’t think so.” She glanced toward the clock. “Ben went out to cut some greens for me. I felt like getting ready for Christmas today. Maybe you’d go out and help him bring them to the porch. It’ll soon be time for supper.”

      Well, she’d offered to help. Elizabeth wasn’t to know that helping Ben...seeing Ben...was the last thing she wanted at the moment. All Anna could do was smile.

      “Right away. Do you know where he went?” The woods began across the field behind the barn and stretched up to the ridge that sheltered the valley.

      “That stand of hemlocks, I think. He knows I like the little cones on the greens to put on the windowsills.”

      Nodding, Anna buttoned her coat again and went back out into the cold. The brittle grass crackled under her shoes as she walked, and she scanned the skies for signs of snow. But the only clouds were light, wispy ones moving lazily across the blue.

      It might be silly for a grown woman to be longing for that first snow of the winter, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She loved running outside to feel the flakes melting on her face. She and her sisters used to vie to see who’d be first to catch a snowflake on her tongue.

      A glimpse of black jacket among the hemlocks told her where Benjamin was, and she veered in his direction. Maybe it would be natural to wave or call out, but nothing felt natural when it came to Ben. Just the slightest glance from his deep blue eyes seemed to turn her back into the girl who’d thought she’d soon be a bride.

      He had his back turned to her. The wheelbarrow next to him was full of green branches, and the clippers he’d been using lay atop them. Maybe he’d spotted a deer or a pheasant and was watching it, standing so still.

      The clothes he wore were Amish, the black jacket a bit snug over his broad shoulders. Had he grown since he’d been gone? He certainly seemed taller and broader to her. The black pants and heavy shoes made her wonder what had become of the jeans and leather jacket. He wouldn’t need them if he meant to be home for good.

      Well, of course he’d come home to stay. He wouldn’t be so unkind as to let his family believe that if it weren’t so, would he?

      His voice startled her. For a moment she thought he’d spoken to her, and then she realized he stood immobile because he was talking on a cell phone. Not so surprising, but still...

      Don’t judge. She had a cell phone herself, as well as the phone in the center. It was difficult to be a midwife to a widespread practice without one. She didn’t use the phone casually, marking off for herself the line between what was accepted and what was bending the rules.

      Ben might have a difficult time adjusting to living under the Ordnung again after his time out in the world. They’d all have to make allowances for him.

      “That’s not true.” Ben’s voice, raised in what might have been anger, came clearly to her ears. “Whatever happened between us is over.”

      Anna froze. She shouldn’t be overhearing this. But she’d already heard. Should she make her presence known or attempt to creep silently backward?

      “All right.” Ben snapped the words. “I’ll see you again, but not until I’m ready.”

      Anna took a step back, and a branch snapped beneath her foot, loud in the still air. Ben spun. His glare nailed her to the spot. She’d seen his eyes merry and laughing and teasing. And tender, filled with longing. But she’d never seen them freeze over with anger.

      He clicked the phone off. “Eavesdropping, Anna?” The words were edged with ice.

      Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Your mother sent me out to help you. I didn’t realize what you were doing until...”

      Her defense withered under his cold stare. When had he gotten those lines around his eyes, that tenseness in his jaw? That was new. Was that what the outside world had done to him?

      “It didn’t occur to you to let me know you were here, ja?” He bent to pick up the wheelbarrow handles. “You’ve done your duty. I’m coming. Why don’t you run back and tell my daad that I was out here talking on my cell phone?”

      A wave of anger came to her rescue. “I’m not a child, and I don’t tattle on people.”

      “No.” His gaze drifted over her. “I can see you’re not a child, Anna. You’re all grown up now.”

      Her anger edged up a notch at the way he’d looked at her. “Your clothes don’t make you Amish, Benjamin. If you’re not ready to leave the Englisch world, maybe you shouldn’t have komm.”

      If anything, his face got tighter, until he didn’t look remotely like the boy she’d loved. “Mamm may say you’re like a daughter to her, but you’re not family. It’s not your business, so leave it alone.”

      Shoving the wheelbarrow, he strode off toward the house.

      Anna stood where she was, fists clenched. So much for her resolutions. Maybe she could forgive Benjamin for what he’d done in the past. But what about what he planned to do in the future? How could she ever trust him again?

      * * *

      Ben walked into the kitchen after supper, intent on a last cup of coffee. The quick cadences of Pennsylvania Dutch came from the living room, where everyone was settled for the evening, Daad reading aloud something from the latest issue of the Amish newspaper, Mamm sewing and Josh whittling a tiny boat destined for their brother Daniel’s oldest for Christmas. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the sound of his native tongue, and it soothed his soul.

      But he was leaving out someone. Anna was there as well, her lap filled with the baby shawl she was crocheting for Daniel and Barbie’s youngest. When he’d said she wasn’t part of the family, he’d wanted only to hurt her. Not only had that been unkind, it hadn’t been true. Maybe she was more a member of the family than he was.

      Standing at the counter, he stirred sugar into the coffee, his spoon clinking against the thick white mug. Mamm had already lined the kitchen windowsill with the greens he’d brought in. Amish might not have the Christmas trees that were everywhere in the outside world, but that didn’t mean they didn’t celebrate the season of Christ’s birth in their own way.

      A light step sounded behind him, and Ben knew without turning that it was Anna. Funny, how his view of her had changed. He’d thought her a quiet little mouse of a girl when she’d first come to stay with them. But he’d learned she had considerable spirit behind that quiet exterior. Today she’d turned it against him in reminding him that clothes didn’t make him Amish, and he didn’t like it.

      “Ben.” Her voice was soft. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

      He turned. If she intended to reiterate her opinion of him...

      Anna’s heart-shaped face was serious, and a couple of lines had formed between her eyebrows. “I want to apologize.” She seemed to have trouble getting the words out. “I had no right to speak to you the way I did. I’m sorry.”

      She’d disarmed him, taking away all the things he’d stored up to say.

      “It’s