The Amish Christmas Kitchen (9 page)

BOOK: The Amish Christmas Kitchen
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Titus pinched his toothpick between his thumb and index finger. “I really want to help you, Mammi, but there's one problem. Once when I was little, a goat tried to eat me.”
“A goat tried to eat you?” Felty said.
Titus's head bobbed up and down like a buoy on the lake. “I was five years old. He jumped and rested his hooves on my shoulders and knocked me to the ground. Then he snatched the lollipop out of my mouth with his teeth and ate it, stick and all. I've been afraid of goats ever since. Maybe we should ask Ben to help you with your goat. I don't know if I'm brave enough.”
Anna swiped at the air as if pushing that suggestion as far from her mind as possible. “Ben has a wife, a little one, and another on the way. He couldn't possibly come every day.” She squeezed his hand, probably a little too hard, because her knuckles turned white. “Titus, I need all the courage you can muster. Our goat needs you. You're the only one who can save Christmas.”
“You need me to save Christmas?” Titus stared at her for a few moments as the toothpick between his lips bobbed up and down like the second hand on a watch. “You're not planning on eating this goat, are you, Mammi? I don't like to eat a pet once I've named it.”
“Eating it? Titus, I could never eat our Christmas goat. Christmas is a time for peace on earth and goodwill toward men . . . and goats.”
Titus nodded as the uncertainty in his eyes gave way to calm determination. “I'll do it, but only because I love you so much, Mammi.”

Wunderbarr,
” Anna said. “You won't regret it.”
Concern passed across Titus's features. “I'll be okay. I just have to remember to leave my lollipops at home. No sense in looking for trouble.”

Gute
idea,” Anna said. “Now. I want to talk to you about a special Christmas beanie.”
C
HAPTER
2
T
rina Benson rolled her car to a stop in front of the gravel road that led up to Huckleberry Hill. She bent her head to peer up the snow-covered lane. “Katie Rose, I hate to say this, but I don't think my little hatchback is going to make it up that hill, even with snow tires. I'm sorry, but can you manage?”
Katie peered up the hill. It had been eight years since she'd been to Bonduel, but she still remembered the steep and long walk up Huckleberry Hill. She had a large, heavy suitcase to drag up with her, but she would be in trouble if Trina got stuck in the snow or lost control and slid down the hill and into a tree.
“The older I am, the more nervous I get driving in the snow,” Trina said. “I should probably quit driving altogether and move to Florida.”
Katie fished into her pocket and handed Trina some money. “I could use a little fresh air after that stuffy bus.”
Her heart only started galloping when she got out of the car and pulled her small traveling bag and her giant brown suitcase out of Trina's trunk. For once, she regretted being such an obedient child. If she'd had her way, she'd be at home baking cookies for the school Christmas program or delivering Christmas fudge to her neighbors and friends. Instead, she was standing at the bottom of a daunting hill contemplating the miserable task before her.
Get a proposal from Adam Wengerd by Christmastime or die an old
maedle, Mamm had warned.
The thought of dying an old maid had been enough to get Katie out of Augusta and back to Bonduel. She wasn't brave enough by half to try to get a husband, but she didn't want to end up an old
maedle,
either. In her Amish community, old maids lived off of the kindness of their brothers and sisters, never having a home of their own or respect from their neighbors. Old maids ended up keeping house and taking care of other people's children. Katie would do just about anything to keep from becoming an old maid.
Even marry Adam Wengerd.
It wasn't that Katie was against Adam Wengerd as a husband, but she didn't know him that well. They had been friends in sixth and seventh grade, before Katie had moved away. All Katie could remember was that Adam had been handsome and tall and that he liked to talk about softball and hunting. Now she had to make him fall in love with her.
What if he didn't? What if he found her boring and awkward? He might decide she was too quiet. Her brothers scolded her constantly for being mousy and shy. “What boy will try for a date if you won't talk to him, Katie?” her brother Mahlon had said.
But what of her feelings? She didn't want to be an old maid, but that didn't mean she should settle for just anyone, did it? What if Adam turned out to be mean or lazy? How could she even know such a thing before she married him?
Maybe there was still time to find someone in Augusta.
She shook her head. She was twenty-four years old, timid, and quiet. Adam Wengerd was the boy who could save her from dreaded spinsterhood, but the thought of trying to convince him to marry her made her sick.
Being the seventh of ten children, Katie had been all but ignored by her parents. Mamm had always been too busy running the house to give Katie or her siblings much attention, but Katie didn't mind being insignificant. As long as Mamm would let her cook for the family and try out new recipes, she was perfectly content. The thought of trying to win a husband terrified her. She'd cried all night the night before she'd left home. How could she bear the embarrassment of it all? Cooking all her best dishes to wheedle a proposal out of Adam, trying to come up with interesting things to say, and Adam all the while knowing she was so desperate that she had to come all the way to Bonduel to find a husband.
Maybe being an old maid wouldn't be so bad.
Katie exhaled slowly and picked up her bag and her suitcase. She'd better get going. Mamm said Adam would arrive at Huckleberry Hill in time for dinner, and Katie was expected to cook for him. That's how Mamm said Katie would win Adam's heart—with her cooking. What boy could resist Katie's sour cream apple pie?
Her suitcase clattered as she hefted it in her hand and began her journey up the hill. She certainly hoped Anna Helmuth was expecting her. What would she do if she showed up and Anna had no place to put her? Katie imagined trudging back down the hill and going from house to house in search of a job as a cook or a maid. What would Mamm think if she walked all the way back to Augusta?
The suitcase got heavier and heavier as she hiked up Huckleberry Hill. Katie almost regretted bringing it, but she had to impress Adam with her cooking skills. For sure and certain, she wouldn't win Adam's heart with clever conversation. Her
mater
had made that perfectly clear.
With her arms shaking and her legs feeling like jelly, Katie finally made it to the top of the hill. A friendly white clapboard house with a big front window stood to her left, and a red barn with white trim sat farther down the lane directly in front of her. In such a pretty place, perhaps she could convince Adam to fall in love with her.
A caramel-and-white blur of hair and legs ran toward her, bleating as if it was very happy to see her. She caught her breath as the floppy-eared goat jumped up and propped its hooves on her legs just above her knees. In surprise, she dropped her travel bag and suitcase, and they clattered into the snow. “
Ach!

“Beth, stop!”
Katie tensed as a young man, probably about her age, with long legs and a gray beanie with horns came running toward her. The goat was either playing a game of tag or wanted to escape. It pushed off and ran down the hill as fast as its little legs would go,
baa
ing all the way.
The young man, who seemed very intent on catching the goat, took a
gute
look at Katie and stopped as if he'd run into an invisible brick wall. His eyes grew wide, and the toothpick between his lips tumbled to the ground. His beanie was the most unusual thing Katie had ever seen—gray and lumpy, with what looked like two horns sticking out of either side. She thought it was sort of cute, as if she could tell he was good-natured just from his choice of beanies. Surely no one who wore a beanie like that would take himself very seriously. He stood frozen to the ground and stared at her, as if he wouldn't mind being there all day. As if he hadn't just been chasing a goat.
Katie wasn't sure if it would be more awkward to say something or remain silent, but if they did remain silent, he would definitely lose his goat. She gave him a tentative smile. “Do you . . . do you want me to help you catch your goat?”
He seemed to snap out of his stunned daze. “
Ach
. . . uh . . .
jah
. That would be wonderful-
gute
. My
mammi
would be heartbroken if I lost her special Christmas goat. It's a new family tradition.” He reached down and picked up her suitcase and her travel bag. “Can I help you into the house with these first?”
It was a very thoughtful gesture, considering he might lose his goat with further delay. “Maybe we should find your goat first.”
He nodded as if he thought that was a very
gute
idea, set her bags on the ground, and started jogging down the hill. “Her name is Beth. Sometimes she'll come when I call. Mostly she likes to run away. Don't be afraid of her, though. She doesn't steal lollipops or beanies.”
He seemed like a very nice young man, not the type to expect her to say something clever or entertaining every time she opened her mouth. She followed him down the hill, calling the goat's name and listening for a sign that she was near. They followed her tracks halfway down the hill, where they veered off into the bushes that grew along the steep incline on the right side of the lane.
The young man stopped and stared at her for a second too long. Had he forgotten about the goat again? She nearly forgot about the goat herself. His eyes were the color of a deep blue lake.
“I don't want you to slip,” he said. “What if I hike down and herd Beth up here to the lane?”
Katie nodded. “I'll try to grab her before she runs away.”
“There's a red Christmas ribbon around her neck. Hook your hand onto that.”
The young man crunched through the snow and into the bushes. Katie stood with her arms wrapped around herself to keep warm, trying to breathe quietly so she would be able to hear the goat coming back through the snow. She didn't want to risk losing someone's special Christmas goat.
“Beth,” the young man called again.
Soon Katie heard the muted clatter of hooves in the snow, and the goat appeared from between the bushes. Katie gasped and reached for the red ribbon around the goat's neck.
Red ribbon with a bright red Christmas bow.
Despite the goat's quick reflexes, Katie caught her on the first try. Beth didn't resist so much as drag Katie along with her, farther down the hill and on to a new adventure. Katie planted her feet and held on with all her might, but her winter boots met a patch of hard ice. A squeak escaped her lips as her feet slipped from under her and she plummeted to the ground, grunting as her backside met with the hard-packed snow. She'd have a very impressive bruise that she wouldn't be able to show anyone, but at least she still had hold of the goat. Beth stopped trying to go anywhere, gazed at Katie as if Katie had just done something terribly embarrassing, and started nibbling on Katie's coat sleeve.

Ach
. Don't do that, little goat,” Katie said, making her voice as sweet as possible. “Mamm would never approve if I came home with one sleeve missing.”
The young man trudged out from the bushes and immediately ran to her when he saw her predicament. “Are you all right?” He offered a hand and pulled Katie to her feet. With a look of deep concern, he cupped his fingers around her elbow until he was sure she was securely on her feet. “Did Beth knock you over? I'm wonderful sorry.”
Once the young man had a firm hold of Beth's ribbon, Katie let go and brushed the snow from her dress and coat. “Beth behaved as well as she could for being a goat. I slipped on the ice, and then she tried to eat my coat.”
“Goats will eat lollipops, but they don't usually eat coats, even if they smell good, like yours does.” He turned bright red and stared faithfully at his boots. “I mean, even if your coat smelled good—which I can't say that it does, because who ever notices how a coat smells?—but even if your coat smelled like chocolate and lilacs, Beth wouldn't eat it.” He lifted his eyes and grinned at her. “Goats are like babies. Babies put everything in their mouths. Goats nibble on stuff to find out what it is. At least that's what the man at the dairy told me.”
“Beth seems like a nice goat, except it was naughty of her to run away.”
“She can jump over any fence and wriggle through small holes. I think it's what she does for fun. And I think she likes to see me run.” He motioned up the hill. “Are you here to see my
mammi?

Katie nodded.
He tugged on Beth's ribbon, and the three of them started walking.
“What is a Christmas goat?” Katie said. “I've never heard of such a thing.”
The young man stuffed his hand into his pocket, pulled out a toothpick, and stuck it between his teeth. “Mammi says it's a family tradition to have a Christmas goat. The man from the dairy brought it last week. I'm taking care of her because I don't want to be the reason that everyone's Christmas is ruined.”
Katie furrowed her brow. “It would be terrible if Christmas got ruined.”
He reached down and patted the goat on the head. “Mammi let me name it even though it's her goat.”
“Beth is a very nice name.”
“It's short for ‘Bethlehem.' I figured that since it's a Christmas goat, it should have a Christmas kind of name.”
“That's very clever of you,” Katie said. Bethlehem was the perfect name for a Christmas goat. She'd never been half that clever. “Is Anna Helmuth your
mammi?

“Oh,
sis yuscht
. I never even told you my name.” He snatched off his horned beanie as if he wanted her to get a complete and
gute
look at him. His white-blond hair stuck out all over his head, brought to life by static electricity. A boyish cowlick made the hair in front tumble in unruly tufts over his forehead. “I'm Titus Helmuth. Anna and Felty's grandson. Mammi didn't tell me anyone was coming today, or I would have come down the hill to help you with your bags.”
“Trina's car couldn't make it up the hill, and how could you have known what time I'd be coming?”
“I suppose that's so. Still, I'm wonderful sorry you had to carry them up the hill by yourself.”
They made it to the crest of the hill, where Katie had dropped her bags. With one hand clasped firmly around Beth's ribbon, Titus picked up the bulky suitcase.
“You don't need to do that,” Katie said. She hated to be a burden on someone who already had the important responsibility of a Christmas goat.
His toothpick pointed upward when he smiled. “You shouldn't have to carry something this heavy when I'm happy to carry it for you. My
dawdi
taught me better than that.” He drew his brows together in concentration. “Or maybe it was my
mammi
. Anyways, one of them taught me better than that. Or both of them. I can't remember.”
Katie picked up her travel bag. “It's so kind of you, especially with a Christmas goat to mind.”
“You look familiar,” Titus said. “Do I know you?”
BOOK: The Amish Christmas Kitchen
9.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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