The Survivor (25 page)

Before she could answer, the clock struck six and chirped. When he grinned, she felt her cheeks heat. Wished she was absolutely anywhere else but here. With him. Alone in the store.

Ben Knox bit the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting out laughing.

It wasn’t because of the clock—his aunt Becca had a large collection of handpainted birdhouses on a shelf in her kitchen. He was used to such silly items.

No, what had him tempted to laugh was the girl standing across from him. Standing as stiff and looking as ruffled as the fierce mother sparrow painted on the clock’s face.

Though, of course, Judith Graber was far from being just a girl, and she was not drab at all. No, her bright blue eyes and lovely light brown hair with its streaks of auburn caught his eye like little else.

He found her exasperation with him amusing. And very little had amused him in a long time. “I guess the cardinal’s trill is my signal to leave?”

Her gaze seemed to give off sparks.
“Jah.”

He turned away, but a nagging question turned him back around. “Why are you working here so late, and all alone? I would’ve thought your husband would want you home by now.”

“I work here because it’s my family’s store, of course.” After a pause, she looked down at her hands clasping the countertop. “Besides, I’m not married.”

“Are you courting?” It was rude of him to ask, but he couldn’t help himself.

Raising her chin, Judith’s lips pursed, just as if she was searching the air for the right words. At last, she sighed. “
Nee
. . . though it surely isn’t any of your business.”

Now it was his turn to be surprised. All his life, he’d thought of Judith Graber as being the ideal girl. She was lovely and kind and a hard worker—nothing like himself.

And she was loyal. Vividly, he recalled her standing up for her brothers any time someone ever threatened them, or put one of them down.

In short, she was the type of girl men like him never spent time with. She was too fine for Benjamin Knox, and everyone knew it.

For the first time, though, the thought made him sad. Like he’d missed his ride and was going to be reduced to waiting on a street corner for another person to pick him up—but no one was approaching.

“Why did you come back to Sugarcreek, Ben Knox?”

“Because it was time,” he said, though it really told her nothing. And told himself nothing, too. He’d come back because he was tired of Missouri and wanted to see his house before he put it on the market, even if the place where he’d grown up was full of hurt and bad memories.

When Judith still stared, all bright and beautiful, he forced himself to tell her the truth. Just this once.

“I wanted to come back and have Christmas in Sugarcreek. Just one last time.” Because he’d told her too much, he winked. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

With that, he forced himself to turn. Opened the door. Walked right under the chirping bird clock, and away from the temptation that was Judith Graber.

The bitter cold felt like heaven.

I
n spite of her best efforts, she still was a terrible cook, Lilly Miller decided as she pulled the roast chicken out of the oven and set it on the counter. Grimacing, she examined it closely. Hoping, that under closer scrutiny, things were better than she thought.

However, they weren’t. Without a doubt, she’d burned dinner. Again.

With a sigh, Lilly tugged on a wing. Instead of staying put, it pulled right off, just like it was relieved to be free of the burnt carcass. “I don’t blame you, wing,” she said out loud. “I’d escape this meal if I could, too. I’ve managed to ruin yet another meal. Now what am I going to feed Robert?”

For a moment, she stared at their house phone. It would be so easy to call her mom and ask for cooking help. But her mom was busy with baby Beth and certainly didn’t need Lilly bugging her again.

With a wince, Lilly knew she’d asked her mother for help more times during the last two months than she had for the first eighteen years of her life.

Being married was not for sissies! Though she and Robert had been married for two months now, Lilly was still finding it challenging. First there were the adjustments to be made, living as a Mennonite. Then there were all the challenges of being newlyweds. And being married to a man who’d been married before—to the perfect woman.

More than any of that, she was finding it difficult to be worthy of a man like Robert. A man who’d given up practically everything for her. After all, she couldn’t even roast a chicken properly. Or make decent mashed potatoes.

Or bake his favorite cake.

The fact of the matter was that sometimes when he left for work, Lilly wondered if he was glad to be away from her. She was young and impulsive and sometimes—okay, most of the time—spoke without thinking first.

Feeling even more depressed and annoyed with herself, she left the burnt offering and sat down at the kitchen table. Here it was, ten days before Christmas, and she’d promised him that she wouldn’t buy him a gift. Instead, she was going to make him something—just like he’d promised he was going to make something for her. But the problem was, she wasn’t crafty. She couldn’t sew. Or cook all that well.

Okay. She couldn’t cook at all.

As time marched closer to Christmas Day, a small knot of worry in her stomach seemed to grow bigger each day. She needed to make something wonderful for Robert for Christmas—or face the horrible truth: Sooner or later, Robert Miller was going to regret marrying her.

C
aleb Graber rolled his neck as he walked along the snowy sidewalk, half attempting to get the stiffness out of it from lifting dozens of palates of bricks at the factory, half in an effort to get mentally prepared to see Rebecca.

It was pretty much a fact—he was completely infatuated with Rebecca Yoder.

Of course, there was no way he was going to act too eager to see her. Even he knew that girls didn’t like pushy, clingy men. But that’s how he’d felt. Like there wasn’t a moment during his day that he didn’t want to be with her.

Which took him completely by surprise.

From the first moment he saw her at Mrs. Miller’s, Caleb had been eager to see her again. After the year he’d had, constantly feeling a part of two worlds but never being a good match in either, the comfort he felt from being near Rebecca was a peace he couldn’t deny. She always looked at him with acceptance. As if seeing him made her day.

Which was how he felt. However, he was afraid he’d scare her off if she knew just how much he was starting to realize he needed her. If she realized that he was thinking about scary things whenever he was around her. Things like courting and marriage.

Marriage! At seventeen!

Even thinking about that made him woozy. No, he was just going to have to play it cool.

With that in mind, he stomped up the snow-covered stairs leading to the library and carefully schooled his features to look cool. Almost bored.

Before he could even open the front door and step inside, Rebecca walked right out. “Hi, Caleb.”

Her eyes were shining, her wheat-colored hair as shiny and glossy as ever. And, just like that, he gave in and grinned as well. Being “cool” was overrated anyway. “Hi, Rebecca.”

She already had on her black cloak and bonnet. “I didn’t want you to have to wait long, so I’m all ready,” she said by way of explanation.

“I wouldn’t have minded waiting. I wouldn’t have minded getting you at your house, either.”

Her smile dimmed. “There was no need for you to go there. This was closer to your work.”

Her words were true, but still Caleb felt awkward. So far, whenever he’d seen her, she had always insisted on meeting him someplace. It was almost like she never wanted him to see her house.

Or maybe it was that she didn’t want him to meet her family?

“Rebecca, next time I’ll come get you at your house, okay? I don’t want your parents to think I have no manners.”

“There’s no need for you to do that.”

“But—”

“I promise. They think you’re fine,” she said hurriedly. Leaning a little bit closer, her smile turned brighter. “Caleb, have I told you that I think it’s so sweet of you to help me work on Christmas baskets?”

That was him, Mr. Sweet. Fact was, he would have helped her pick up snakes and spiders if that’s what she wanted. “You have,” he said, taking care to sound like he couldn’t care less. “Besides, you need some help carrying everything.”

“I do.” When she paused at the top of the steps, Caleb reached out and held her elbow. Just to steady her. So she wouldn’t trip or fall, of course.

When they reached the sidewalk, he still had his hand cupped around her elbow. Actually, his hand had crept up and was carefully holding her arm. When she looked into his eyes and blushed, he dropped his hand.

“Danke,”
she murmured. “The steps were a bit slick.”

They paused, standing close together. Close enough for him to notice the little flecks of silver in her blue eyes. To see that there were five freckles, not six, that dusted her nose.

Close enough that if he leaned down just a little bit, he could brush his lips against her forehead. Or maybe even her cheek. Or maybe even . . .

Clearing his throat, he stepped back. “We better get going,” he said. “It’s too cold to just stand here.”

“All right, Caleb,” she said with a hint of a smile.

As they started walking—side by side but not touching—Caleb wondered how much longer he could go before he made a complete fool of himself and told her that he really liked her.

Before he leaned in and actually did kiss her.

Before he risked getting his heart stomped on while she laughed at him.

Hopefully none of that would happen until well past Christmas Day.