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Huckleberry Christmas,
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C
HAPTER
1
Crouched on her hands and knees, Anna Helmuth shined her flashlight into the darkest corner of the cellar, where old storage boxes and ancient furniture gathered dust.
“Felty, dear,” she called, hoping her voice carried up the stairs, through the cellar door, and into the kitchen, where her husband was washing up the dishes.
He might not be able to hear her, but she could hear him singing at the top of his lungs. “
Each day I'll do a golden deed, by helping those who are in need.
”
It was no use. Felty was in one of his singing moods, and Anna wouldn't be able to make him hear her. She grunted as she tried to get to her feet. Her left leg had fallen asleep, and she couldn't budge an inch. Not a single inch. She turned off the flashlight, stowed it in her apron pocket, and slowly pushed herself backward with her hands. Her knees creaked like a pair of rusty hinges as she shifted to a sitting position. Propping her hand on a sturdy cardboard box, she attempted to pull herself up. No use. Her hinter parts would not cooperate.
How had she gotten herself into this predicament? She was only eighty-two years old, for goodness sake, hardly an old lady. It must have been that extra biscuit with strawberry jam she'd eaten for breakfast.
She could still hear Felty singing. “
While going down life's weary road, I'll try to lift some trav'ler's load.
” Oh, how he loved that song!
If only he knew how badly his wife needed her load lifted at this very minute. “Felty, dear,” she called again.
She might be forced to crawl up the stairs. Either that or she could take a lovely nap on the cellar floor, and Felty would notice her absence when supper didn't appear on the table.
Anna waited until he took a breath, then yelled as loudly as she could without straining her throat. “Felty, do you have Rhode Island?”
The refrain halted abruptly. Felty always attuned his ear to talk of license plates. Smiling at her cleverness, Anna heard him shuffle to the top of the stairs and open the cellar door. “Are you down there, Annie?”
“
Jah
, and I'm stuck. It wonders me if you could lend a hand.”
Felty clomped down the steps and peered at her by the dim light from the small window.
“My knees gave out,” Anna said.
Felty reached out both hands and, nearly toppling over himself, pulled Anna to her feet. Anna limped around the cellar, testing her legs for signs of arthritis. “Fit as a fiddle,” she finally declared.
“Why was you sitting on the floor?” Felty asked.
“I was looking for the baby crib.”
“That old crib? I chopped it up for firewood twenty years ago yet.”
“Firewood?” Anna propped her hands on her hips. “Felty, that crib cradled our thirteen babies.”
“And got mighty gute use. It was like to collapse with the next baby. So I burned it.” Felty's eyes twinkled. “We ain't had a baby in this house for forty years, and unless you're thinking of bringing another one into the world, it was better as firewood.”
“Now, Felty. We need the crib for our great-great-grandson Toby.”
“Is he coming for a visit?”
“He and his mother are going to live with us. They'll be here to²morrow.”
Felty massaged his forehead just above his right eyebrow. “Annie, what are you up to?”
“Amos has been gone over a year now, and it's time we found Beth a new husband.”
“Beth told her mother she doesn't want a new husband.”
“Well, that's silly. I'm sure her mother didn't believe that. Every girl wants a husband, and Beth has a son to consider.”
Felty wrapped his arm around his wife of sixty-three years. “I lost a lot of sleep over your last match, Annie-banannie. The doctor says I need a nap every day.”
Anna kissed Felty on the cheek. “I can't see how a budding romance will interrupt your daily nap.”
Felty sighed in resignation. “Who is the lucky fellow destined for our great-granddaughter?”
“Do you remember Tyler Yoder?”
“Of course I remember him. Our grandson Aden stole his fiancée.”
“Lily and Tyler were never right for each other. But Tyler and Beth are a match made in heaven.”
“Made in heaven or in an Amish mammi's daydreams?”
“Now, Felty, every match we've ever made has been a success.”
Felty grunted. “In spite of us, not because of us.”
“Beth needs our help. She's obviously not very gute at picking her own husband.”
Felty shook his finger. “Don't speak ill of the dead.”
Anna turned around and started climbing the stairs. “I didn't say a word against Amos. It was more a criticism of Beth.”
“Where are you going? I still haven't agreed to this.”
“Seeing as Tyler hasn't set foot here since church five months ago, I've got to pay Aden a visit. I need an excuse to get Tyler to Huckleberry Hill. Aden still feels guilty about marrying Tyler's fiancée, and when I tell him I've found Tyler's match, he'll be eager to help.”
“Annie, I don't think I can stand any more lovebirds disturbing my peace.”
Anna stopped halfway up the stairs. “So, you admit they'll fall in love.” She grinned. “We should buy a crib so the baby doesn't have to sleep in a box.”
Felty chuckled softly and followed Anna up the stairs. “I slept in a bureau drawer until I turned three.”
“What a lovely thought, Felty. I can imagine that you were an adorable baby, like Beth's son, Toby. Cute, lively, and in need of a father.”
“Every child should have a father. Especially our only great-great-grandchild.”
“I knew you'd come to see it my way.”
Felty shook his head in resignation as he paused at the top of the stairs to catch his breath. “Did I hear you say something about Rhode Island?”