Snowfall

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Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray

BOOK: Snowfall
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Dedication

To Lynne and Laurie, a terrific mother-daughter
team who also would have known just what to
do with six Rhodes
kinner

Epigraph

It is more blessed to give than to receive.

Acts 20:35

Snowflakes are such fragile things, but look what happens when they stick together.

Amish proverb

Who made the snow waits where love is.

From the poem, “The Snow Is Deep on the Ground” by Kenneth Patchen

Contents

Dedication

Epigraph

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . .

About the author

About the book

Read on

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Shelley Shepard Gray

Credits

Copyright

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

Babysitters are supposed to like kinner. That's a rule, I think.

Thomas, Age 8

They were horrible children.

Well, perhaps that was an exaggeration. The
kinner
weren't horrible, exactly. They were simply too much for one sixty-three-year-old woman to handle for six hours at a time.

As Lovina Keim watched the chaos unfold around her in Martin Rhodes's kitchen, she wondered, yet again, how she had gotten herself into such a situation. She wasn't all that old—certainly not! But at this time in her life, she should be spending her free time working on a crossword puzzle or crocheting a blanket for a friend's adorable new baby girl. Or, perhaps even reading one of the novels in her To-Be-Read pile.

Instead, she was surrounded by no less than six unruly children and one rambunctious golden retriever puppy. Worst of all, not a one of them could mind manners or follow directions.

For sure and for certain, she had had enough. Furthermore, she'd had enough about two hours ago.

“Are you going to sit there forever, Miss Lovina?” Seven-year-old Gregory asked, placing sticky fingers on the back of her chair.

“Only as long as I have to,” she replied.

Nine-year-old Katrina wrinkled her nose. “What does that mean?”

“It means I will be here only until my grandson Roman comes to pick me up in his buggy.” Which, by the way, couldn't come soon enough.

“When's that?”

She darted a glance at the ridiculous wooden cuckoo clock hanging on the wall over the door. “In five minutes, if the Lord is
gut
.”

“But what if He ain't
gut
?” Brigit asked from her other side. “What are ya gonna do then?” It had taken Lovina exactly five minutes to realize that Brigit and her twin, Karin, were impertinent.

“I suppose the Lord will let me know. But I don't imagine Roman will be late. He's a preacher, you know.” And because she was so very proud of her grandson—and who wouldn't be?—she let her pride shine through. “Preachers are important people in our church community.”

“Daed says preachers ain't any smarter than he is,” Thomas said from his perch atop the kitchen counter. The very same kitchen counter that she'd wiped off four times but that was now covered in smudges of peanut butter. “He says they're just lucky.”

“I don't believe in luck, and your father shouldn't, either,” she replied sharply. But because she was a guest in their home—and because she liked the fact that he was four feet away from her—she refrained from ordering Thomas off the counter. At eight years of age, he was already showing signs that he would welcome a life in the circus. At this point, she was simply glad he was remaining in one spot.

“I'm gonna tell my father you said that,” Thomas retorted.

“Me, too,” Meg, the littlest Rhodes, said from her position on the floor. She'd decided to brush Frank, the nine-month-old puppy, on the kitchen floor. Currently, she was brushing the golden retriever with enough care to enter him into a dog show. She was also causing blond dog hair to fly everywhere.

When she'd first arrived, Lovina had attempted to sweep up the mess. But within seconds, she realized that her dark gray dress attracted the fur like a magnet. After that, she'd decided to stay as far away from both the puppy and the scattered wisps of fur as possible. With a weary sigh, she attempted to brush some of the fur off her gray dress. But it was a useless, counterproductive activity. The fur stubbornly remained fixed to the fabric.

Kind of like the peanut butter that had gotten smeared on her black bonnet.

Or the ink from the pen that had exploded when she'd tried to write their father a note.

She was going to need a good bath the moment she got away from this house. And some pain reliever, too.

Just as the clock struck four with a melodic chirp, the back door opened. Lovina jumped to her feet. “Roman, thank goodness you are back!”

“I'm afraid it's only me, Lovina,” Martin, the
kinners
' father said apologetically. “I came to see how everyone is, uh, doing. . . .” His voice drifted off as he took in Thomas perched on the counter, Meg sitting on the floor with Frank, and the other four
kinner
scattered about the room. Even to Lovina's eyes they looked bored, unhappy, and restless.

Without a sound, his eyes darted to the dirty countertops, the sink filled with dishes, the hair on the floor. Finally, he settled his eyes on Lovina, sitting in the middle of it all.

He inhaled sharply, obviously holding back some harsh criticism.

Lovina supposed she couldn't blame him. She certainly never would have imagined that she could be bested by six small children. But in her defense, she'd never experienced any children like the ones surrounding her.

After taking a deep breath, Martin spoke. “What's going on, Lovina? I would have thought you would have things well in hand.”

“I did.” Well, she had for about five seconds.

“I thought you were going to make supper.”

Lovina stood up, walked to the rickety coat rack near the back door, and pulled off her cloak. She slipped it over her shoulders and fastened the button at the collar. “I did make you supper,” she snapped. “It is in the refrigerator. Simply heat it for thirty minutes when you are ready to eat.”

He ran a hand over his face. “But what about everything else? You were going to clean up a bit.”

She almost felt guilty when she spied the sink full of dirty dishes. But then, when she remembered just how much trouble the children could get into when her back was turned, every ounce of guilt floated away. “Cleaning was an impossibility,” she muttered.

“Hmm.” Looking at each of his children as if they were strangers, Martin added, “And I thought you were going to entertain them, too?”

Her chin lifted. “Martin, the last thing your
kinner
need is more entertainment.”

He stared at her for a moment, then turned to the two boys and four girls who were slowly inching closer to him. “Children, what did you do to Miss Lovina?”

Katrina shrugged. “Nothing, Daddy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh. We were only being ourselves.”

“But I asked you to be on your best behavior.”

Thomas hopped off the countertop. “It weren't our fault that the pen exploded or that Frank knocked over Miss Lovina's
kaffi
. And it ain't my fault that the
kaffi
was really hot, either.”

“Or that Meg threw up,” Katrina said.

Martin was starting to look alarmed. “Meg threw up?”

“She is fine,” Lovina said. “She simply ate too much candy.”

“Candy?”

“She found the candy I had left over from the fall party,” Karin whined. “Now there's none left.”

“You shouldn't have kept any candy hidden in your room in an old shoebox,” Katrina pointed out.

“You shouldn't have been snooping in our things with Meg. Nobody's allowed under our beds except Brigit and me,” Karin retorted, looking, Lovina decided, far older than five years of age.

Her twin tugged on their father's pant leg. “Don't worry, Daddy. Your chair isn't stained too bad. And Miss Lovina said in two years it might smell
gut
again.”

Looking thunderous, Martin pointed to the doorway leading to the rest of the house. “
Kinner
, go to your rooms.”

“Why?” Gregory asked. “We didn't do anything wrong.”

“I'll tell you the why of it later. Now, go on.”

“Can I take Frank with me?” Meg asked.

Lovina could answer that one. “Please. Do.”

After darting several more looks their father's way, all six of the children trotted out of the kitchen, Frank scampering in the midst of them.

Once the room was cleared, Martin eased onto one of the chairs. “Lovina, what is going on? When Miss Freida, their regular sitter, told me you could help out around here until New Year's Day, I thought this had been your idea. I mean, you raised six
kinner
of your own,
jah
?”

“I did, indeed, raise six
kinner
. However, mine were far better behaved. I won't be returning.”

“But they are out of school until the sixth of January and it's only December fifteenth.”

“Martin, I am sorry, but for the life of me I canna think of one good reason to subject myself to three more weeks of being here. I'm old but not an idiot.”

“But it's almost Christmas and Freida is on vacation. You must realize that I own a Christmas tree farm. This is my busiest time of the year.”

“I am sorry about that. I, um, will try to find someone to take my place,” she added before she could think better of it. “There must be someone who would be willing to put up with your
kinner
for twenty more days.”

Martin was prevented from replying when a knock sounded at the door.

Hoping and praying it was her grandson, Lovina strode to the door and opened it in an instant. As soon as she spied her handsome grandson, she breathed easy for the first time all day. “Roman, aren't you a sight for sore eyes.”

After hugging his grandmother, Roman turned to Martin. “
Gut
to see you, Martin. How goes it?”

“Not so well at the moment.”

“Oh?”

Lovina linked her arm through her grandson's. “I'll tell you all about it when we get on our way, dear. It is time to go. Past time.”

Roman's eyes narrowed as he gazed at her, then clapped Martin on the shoulder. “I think it might be best if I went on my way. But, listen, I'll come by soon and visit with ya. When we all have more time.”

“Sure. That will be
gut
.”

Now that she was about to leave the house, she was feeling a bit guilty. Martin Rhodes really did have his hands full. “I really will try to find you a replacement, Martin,” she said, suddenly thinking of a certain blue-eyed girl who'd just been let go from her job at Daybreak Retirement Home due to some recent budget cuts. The last time Lovina had volunteered there, one of the residents had whispered that he was worried about the young woman. Ruth had been a favorite of everyone's, and people were concerned that she was losing her income so close to Christmas.

“I would appreciate any help you could offer,” Martin said.

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