The Restoration (9 page)

“I like going slow like this. Gives me a chance to really see the snowy landscape—not to mention the ride will last longer.”

“It is beautiful.” Priscilla held the reins firmly and kept her horse going at a steady pace.

“I may want to try driving a horse and buggy sometime.”

“Really?”

He gave a nod. “It might be fun.”

“It is, but it can also be hard and sometimes stressful when the horse doesn’t want to cooperate.”

“I’d still like to give it a try. Will you teach me, Priscilla?”

“Sure, if you want.”

“Oh, and before you head home today, would you sign my cast?”

Priscilla felt David’s eyes on her and immediately brought a hand to her warm cheek. Clearing her throat, she asked, “What for?”

“Usually when someone breaks a bone, it’s fun to have friends or family sign their cast.”

“Did your grandparents sign yours?”

“Not yet. You can be the first. Have you ever signed anyone’s cast?”

She shook her head. “But I’m willing.”

“You can do it when we get back to my grandparents’ house.” David’s eyes shone as he grinned at her. “On another note, what are you doing for Christmas?”

“We’ll get together with my brothers and their families on Christmas Eve, as well as Christmas Day,” Priscilla replied, her composure now back to normal.

“You’re lucky to have a big family.” David dropped his gaze. “Since I’m an only child, Christmas has always been kind of boring for me.”

“Even when you’ve come to visit your grandparents?”

Looking up, he shook his head. “The Christmases we’ve spent here have always been great—the best, in fact.”

“Will your parents be with you and your grandparents for Christmas this year?” Priscilla questioned.

“Probably, but I’m not looking forward to it.”

“How come?”

“You heard the way my dad carried on when he and Mom showed up the day after my accident. If they come for Christmas, Dad will probably bring up the topic of me dropping out of college.” David pulled his knitted cap down over his ears. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. I want to relax and enjoy the ride.”

Amy and Linda bounded into the kitchen at the moment Leah took a loaf of bread from the oven. Carrie, who’d been sitting at the table, pointed to the picture she’d been coloring. “See what I did while Leah was makin’ bread?”

“That’s nice.” Linda peered over Carrie’s shoulder.

“You stayed in the lines real good,” Amy interjected.

Carrie grinned. “Danki.”

“How was your day, girls?” Leah closed the oven door and wiped her hands on her apron. Then she gave Linda and Amy a hug.

“It was good for a Monday,” Amy said. “It went pretty fast, too.”

Linda nodded. “We practiced for the Christmas program.”

Leah gave the girls a glass of milk. “I remember when I was young and took part in Christmas programs. Did you know I went to the same school you attend?”

“Wow! It must have been a long time ago.” Linda looked up at Leah innocently.

Leah laughed, understanding how adults seemed much older through a child’s eyes. She tweaked the end of Linda’s nose. “I’m not old yet.”

The girls all giggled.

“Did you see the sweet cake?” Carrie asked her sisters.

Leah’s mouth twisted. She hoped Carrie wasn’t talking about the chocolate cake she’d mentioned to her earlier. She’d planned to surprise Linda and bake it for her birthday this coming Friday. This would be the first birthday for one of Adam’s nieces that they’d celebrated since the death of the girls’ parents, and Leah wanted it to be special.

“Sweet cake?” Amy looked at the counter where the bread was cooling. “I see the
brot
Leah took out of the oven, but there’s no cake.”

Leah chuckled. “What I beleive Carrie meant was, did you see the suet cake?”

“What’s a suet cake?” Linda asked.

“It’s a small square-shaped block of seed held together by a mixture of beef fat,” Leah explained. “Your uncle Adam sells them in his hardware store, and the birds love it.”

Carrie’s eyes brightened. “It’s in a
kewwich
.”

“You’re right.” Leah nodded. “You put the suet in a little cage designed to hold each cake. The cage makes it easy for the birds to grip the sides of the cage so they can peck at the suet.”

“Where do you hang it?” Amy questioned.

“In a tree or suspended on a hook in a spot where the birds will easily find it. It’ll be fun to watch the birds visit our yard this winter. In fact, I hung a suet cake in the small tree close to our living-room window.”

No sooner had Leah said the words than all three girls raced into the living room. Smiling, Leah joined them at the window, where they could see a blue jay eating from the feeder. Seeing the look of joy on the girls’ faces filled her with peace. She felt privileged to help Adam raise his nieces.

Iva was standing at the sink, peeling potatoes when Priscilla entered the kitchen at five o’clock.

“How’d your visit with David go?” she asked, turning to face Priscilla.

“It went well. I took him for a buggy ride.” Priscilla removed her wrap and hung it up. “Letty had hot chocolate and brownies for us when we got back. After we finished eating, I signed David’s cast.”

Iva’s eyebrows lifted, but she made no comment. She hoped Priscilla wouldn’t make a habit of spending time with David. His modern English ways might rub off on her.

Priscilla moved closer to the sink. “I need to ask you a question, Mom.”

“Ask away.” Iva turned back to the potatoes.

“David said he sent me some letters during his first year of college, but I didn’t get any of them. Would you know anything about that?”

The peeler slipped from Iva’s fingers, and she drew in a sharp breath. She fixed her gaze out the window, barely aware of how the sunset made the snow look pink. Should she admit she’d intercepted the letters or pretend she knew nothing about them? Back then, Iva had rationalized that she was only trying to protect her daughter.

What I did was bad enough. I can’t lie to my own daughter about this now. It would go against what I believe—especially when Daniel and I have taught our children to be honest and upright, as the Bible says.

Swallowing past the constriction in her throat, she turned and looked at Priscilla. “I–I’m ashamed to admit this, but the truth is, I threw away David’s letters.”

Priscilla gasped. “Why would you do something like that, Mom?”

“I saw the way David hung around you whenever he came to visit his grandparents. I was afraid he might talk you into becoming part of his English world.”

“David has never tried to influence me to do anything, Mom. Even if he had, you ought to know I would never go English.” Priscilla’s shoulders tightened. “I’m disappointed you would keep David’s letters from me. Not to mention all this time David has wondered why I never wrote back.”

“I’m sorry, Priscilla.” She placed her hand against her breastbone, and when she spoke, her voice cracked. “What I did was wrong. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

“I forgive you, Mom, but from now on, if you’re worried about something involving my life, I’d appreciate it if you would please come talk to me about it.”

Iva hugged her daughter. “I will, and again, I’m truly sorry.”

David lounged on the couch, barely watching the TV, while Gramps read the paper and Gram knitted a sweater. His favorite show was on, but he had no interest in it. He glanced at his cast, studying the words Priscilla had written with a marking pen.
Keep the faith.

David realized those three simple words could have more than one meaning. Did Priscilla mean he should have faith to believe he would heal quickly? Or perhaps she’d meant something else.

Riding in Priscilla’s buggy and enjoying Gram’s hot chocolate and brownies afterward had lifted David’s spirits. He liked being with Priscilla and looked forward to seeing her again.

As David’s eyelids grew heavy, he let his imagination run wild.
What would it be like if I became Amish and married Priscilla?

“Did you and Scott get a lot done on your school project today?” Cora asked while she and Jared ate supper.

“Uh… yeah… but we still have a lot to get done.”

“I always enjoyed science when I was in school, so I’m anxious to hear all the details.”

Jared grabbed his glass of water and took a drink. “There’s not much to tell. I’ll fill you in when the project’s done. We’re just in the starting stages.”

“I understand.”

They ate in silence for a while, until the telephone rang.

“I’ll get it!” Jared dropped his fork and raced into the other room. He returned with a big grin.

“Who called, Jared?” Cora asked. “Was it your father?”

“Nope. It was my friend Chad.”

“Chad from Chicago?” Cora hoped not, because when Jared used to hang around Chad, he’d usually gotten into trouble.

“Yeah, Mom, it was Chad from Chicago.” Jared flopped into his chair.

“What did he want? How’d he get our number?”

“I gave him the number. He wanted to know if he could come here for a few days during Christmas break.”

Cora frowned. “I hope you told him no.”

“I didn’t say he could, but I didn’t say no, either.”

“What did you say?”

“Said I’d ask you if it was okay.”

“Well, I’m glad you respected me, Jared, but unfortunately, it’s not okay. Your so-called friend is nothing but trouble, and I don’t want him staying here, so you’d better call him right back and tell him not to come.” Cora pursed her lips. “I can’t imagine Chad’s parents allowing him to drive all those miles—especially with the cold, snowy weather we’ve been having.”

“Chad’s folks are goin’ on a cruise the day after Christmas, so they won’t care what he does.”

“Well, they should care. He’s only seventeen. No wonder Chad gets into trouble, the way his parents let him do whatever he wants. They must not believe in parental supervision.”

“Chad turned eighteen a few weeks ago, Mom. He graduated from high school in June.”

“What’s he done since then, Jared? Does he have a job? Is he attending college somewhere?”

Jared turned his hands palms up. “Beats me. He never said. I didn’t ask.”

“Figures. He’ll probably sponge off his parents for as long as he can.” Cora sighed. “I want you to call Chad back as soon as we’re done eating and tell him not to come.”