An Amish Christmas Journey. Patricia Davids
here I expected to be entertained by your nonstop chatter.” His teasing tone pulled a reluctant smile from her.
“If you want nonstop chatter, I suggest you start talking.”
“I guess I’m not in the mood for it, after all.” He stifled a yawn.
“You can sleep. It won’t bother me.”
“Are you trying to tell me I look tired?”
She tipped her head to regard him closely. “Tired? Nee. Haggard to the point of collapse. Ja.”
He chuckled again. “Sadly, that is a fair assessment.”
“Shall I move up to another seat so you can stretch out?”
He settled lower, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I think I have forgotten how to sleep lying down. It’s been so long. I just need to close my eyes for a minute. I hope Marianne isn’t overdoing it. I worry about her. She doesn’t have much strength.”
“You stayed with your sister while she was in the hospital?”
“I had to. She got very upset if I wasn’t there. There wasn’t anyone else to stay with her. We hadn’t yet settled into a community here or joined a new church. A few of my friends came at first, but the hospital would only allow family members into the burn unit. Our aunt wanted to come, but she has a big family to care for, and I knew it would be a hardship for her. In retrospect, I should have accepted her offer.”
“Do you do that often?” Greta asked.
He opened his eyes and frowned. “Do I do what?”
“Refuse help when you need it?”
He gave her a wry smile. “Am I guilty of being prideful? I have been, but I’m learning that I can’t do everything.”
Greta gathered her things. “Then stretch out on this bench and take a nap. I will keep an eye on your sister and wake you if she needs anything.”
He nodded his consent. Greta moved up to one of the single seats where she could keep an eye on Marianne and on Toby. He folded his long legs on the seat and pillowed his head on his coat. It wasn’t long before his breathing became deep and even and she knew he was asleep.
She had never watched a man sleeping before. At least no one younger than the elders who sometimes nodded off during the long church services. The lines of strain around Toby’s eyes touched a chord within her. She wanted to see them soothed away.
They didn’t detract from his good looks. At leisure to study him, Greta assessed his features one by one, trying to decide why she was so attracted to him. He had a strong square jaw and lean cheeks with high cheekbones. His nose was a little too prominent, but added to the whole, it fit him. She decided his mouth was his best feature. His lips were perfectly shaped, not too full, not too thin, and they curved easily into a friendly smile. Yes, she liked his smile the best. And the small dimple it revealed in his left cheek.
His dark brown hair was fine and straight, but it was cut shorter than the traditional Amish bowl-style. Young men during their rumspringa, the years when they were free to try English ways and decide if they wanted to remain Amish, often adopted English hairstyles. There was nothing remotely English about his clothing. He wore dark, homemade pants, a pale blue shirt and black suspenders. Had he left his rumspringa behind or was he only dressing Amish because he was going to visit his Amish family?
Greta realized there was a lot about this young man that intrigued her, but it was unlikely that she would learn much on this short trip. She glanced toward his sister. Marianne was napping, too. She had wedged herself into the corner of the seat. Her head rested against the window glass.
Greta took off her coat and folded it into a bundle. Slipping in next to the child, Greta eased her coat beneath the girl’s cheek without waking her. She glanced over the seat back at her uncle. He had assumed the same position. She seemed to be the only one who couldn’t sleep.
Returning to her seat, she took out her needlepoint hoop and began to work. It didn’t require much concentration, but the repetitive motion helped to keep her mind off her unhappy situation. The thing she regretted most was bringing her uncle into her sisters’ lives again.
Lizzie with her delicate pregnancy did not need to be subjected to their uncle’s cruel verbal barbs. Betsy had become a fun-loving teenager. Even their oldest sister, Clara, had come out of her shell and gained the confidence to marry a man with three children. None of them deserved to be exposed to their uncle’s venom.
Greta’s one consolation was that he wouldn’t dare raise a hand to any of them as long as Duncan was in the house. The dog considered them part of his flock. He would lay down his life to defend them.
The miles rolled by as she worked, glancing occasionally at the other passengers. They all slept. Christmas remained quiet in her box. Greta was tempted to open the carton and check on her, but decided against it. There was no telling what the cat would do when she sensed freedom.
Sometime later, Greta was losing the light to work by when Arles pulled off the interstate and turned into the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant adjacent to a large truck stop. Toby sat up in the back and looked around. Marianne remained asleep, but Morris sat up, too. As if on cue, the cat began to meow softly. Arles turned around in his seat. “I’m going to get something to drink. Does anyone want anything?”
Greta shook her head, as did Toby. Arles left, closing his door softly. Toby came forward to his sister’s seat. Seeing her asleep, he handed Greta the pet carrier and gently lifted Marianne in his arms. Returning to the rear of the vehicle, he laid her down on the seat and covered her with his coat. She didn’t rouse.
Greta retrieved her coat and slipped it on. She opened the box and lifted the cat out. Toby came forward. “We should put the lead on her before we take her outside.” He spoke softly so as not to wake his sister.
“I was thinking the same thing. Can you get it from the box under the seat?”
He extracted the pink harness and cord. “If you hold her, I think I can get it on without too much trouble. Let’s hope she’s still groggy enough to be cooperative.”
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