Amish Christmas Twins. Shelley Shepard Gray
they’d been married over a year and were no longer newlyweds, every time he murmured the endearment her heart pitter-pattered a little faster.
“I know you are right, Will. It’s just hard. I want them to be happy.”
“They will be. Or at the very least, we’ll try to help them to be happy.”
“Even though they just got here and Melanie said for us to take our time getting to know each other, I already know I want more than that.” She reached for his hand. “Will, I want Roy and Jemima to be with us forever.”
“I’m taken with them, too. I knew it the moment Melanie introduced us to them two weeks ago and Roy asked if I liked pumpkin pie.”
E.A. giggled. “Just as I was about to say that I’d make him one, he wrinkled his nose and said he thought it was yucky.”
“All while Jemima was trying to get him to hush.” The lines around his eyes deepened with his smile. “Elizabeth Anne, not to sound too full of myself or anything, but I think they’re going to be mighty happy with us, too.”
“Do you really think so?”
He nodded. “How can they not be? We already are starting to love them.” He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “I bet it will just take them a while to get settled.”
“I hope so.”
“Come now, try to stay positive, jah?”
Against her will, her eyes filled up with tears. “Christmas is just around the corner. I wish those kids were only worrying about presents they wanted and how much fruitcake to eat.”
Will grinned. “First, nobody sits around dreaming of fruitcake. Secondly, that’s a wonderful idea. We can ask them to write a Christmas list. That will give them something positive to think about.”
“I’ll bring that up tomorrow.”
“Gut.” He ran a hand down her hair. “Does that mean you’ll stop crying now?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I think you do, Elizabeth,” he said gently. “Ain’t so?”
Feeling her cheeks heat, she nodded. Less than a week ago—just days before Roy and Jemima were scheduled to arrive—they’d gotten the biggest surprise. They were expecting a baby.
When E.A. had shared her shock, the midwife had simply raised her eyebrows. “A smart girl like you can sure be foolish,” she’d chided. “I would have thought you’d have figured out how babes were made.”
Yes, she had known. But she’d also learned years ago that the chances of her becoming pregnant were very slim. This pregnancy was truly a miracle, but it was also a closely guarded secret. She and Will wanted to wait a few weeks before they shared the news. Not just to hold their secret tight for a bit before it was all of their friends’ and families’ news as well . . . but for the sake of Jemima and Roy.
Now all of their plans were up in the air.
“Have you thought any more about what we discussed?” Will asked.
E.A. nodded. “I’ve thought about it, but it doesn’t feel right. We brought the children here with the intention of adopting them.”
“I know we did. But the timing might not be the best. Roy and Jemima need two parents to give them all their attention. They’ve already been through so much. How can we give them what they need if we have a newborn?”
“Our babe won’t be born for months and months. We don’t need to make this decision now.”
“I agree, but as soon as Christmas is over, we’ll need to decide.”
“That’s in two weeks, Will.”
He sighed in the dark. “Elizabeth Anne, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings or bring pain into those kinner’s lives. But one of us has to be tough. I can’t think that it will be easier on those children to wait to tell them that we can’t adopt them.”
“If that’s what we decide.”
“Yes, of course. If we decide that.” He ran a hand down her hair again. “Just keep an open mind, okay? At the very least, we’ll be giving them a wonderful Christmas.”
“At least there’s that.” She felt her eyes fill with tears again.
Will wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t cry. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. God has a plan, yes?”
“Jah,” she whispered. But as the minutes passed and she eventually heard Will’s deep, even breathing, E.A. couldn’t help but think of everything the children had already been through.
How did God have a plan that included orphaning two small children? No matter how hard she tried to wrap her mind around that, it didn’t make much sense.
At last, she fell into a restless sleep, finally praying that the Lord would help her be strong enough to do the “right” thing, whatever that might be.
Chapter 3
Ten days before Christmas
Jemima looked at the many sheets of paper, crayons, and colored pencils that E.A. had set out for her and Roy on the kitchen table. “Are you sure you want me and Roy to help you?” she asked.
E.A., who had been stenciling letters of the alphabet on each page, put her pencil down. “Of course, dear. It’s going to be our family’s Christmas present and you two are part of the family.” Her smile wobbled. “I mean, you are right now.”
Right now. That didn’t sound very permanent. A new sense of doom settled in Jemima’s chest, making it hard to breathe. Over the last few days, she and Roy had felt a little bit like they had woken up in a dream.
Everything that had been so awful and wrong at the Millers’ was so right with Mr. and Mrs. Kurtz. E.A. and Will wanted to be with them and never got mad, even when Roy sucked his thumb or when Jemima accidentally knocked over her milk on the table.
Will always greeted them after he kissed E.A. hello after work. No matter how tired he seemed, he always sat down beside them and asked about their days . . . and their nights when he took the night shift.
And then there was the food! It was so good and there was lots of it. Even though it felt wrong to compare, Jemima had to admit that even their real mother hadn’t cooked as well as Elizabeth Anne.
“Jem,” Roy whispered. “You’re daydreaming again.”
Oh! She certainly had been! Right there at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry.” She darted a quick look of apology at her brother before answering. “I mean, I’m not a very good artist.”
“I’m not either,” Roy said quickly. “Sometimes I don’t color in the lines.”
“But see? These pages are blank. That means anything you want to write on each page or color is the right thing to do.”
“All I can think for ‘C’ is candy,” Roy said.
“Or camels,” Jemima said quickly. “The Wise Men rode on camels to see baby Jesus.”
“But I like peppermint candy canes,” Roy said.
But instead of saying that Jemima’s was better, because it was better to think about Jesus instead of candy, E.A. frowned. “Boy, those are two gut things for our letter ‘C,’ aren’t they? Hmm. Oh, how about we write: ‘ “C” is for Christmas candy and a camel caravan.’ If the Wise Men had candy canes, they would have surely brought them for Jesus on this birthday.”
Roy’s eyes got big. Jemima couldn’t help but gape as well. “You want to write that?”
“Why not? It uses both of your ideas.” She