Once Christmas was over, he told himself. Surely things would settle down for him once Christmas was over.
He poured himself one last cup of coffee and leaned a hip against the sink. As he drank it, he looked out over the yard. He could just see the barn off to the right, his toolshed on the left, and the road just beyond the large tree that sat at the entrance of his property. Mims and Mary had planted it years ago, when he and Mary had first gotten married. The two women had decided that they needed a tree there for shade when they were trying to pull out onto the road, and it would block curious passersby from taking pictures or just gawking.
Opposite the tree was the little shed where Mary had sold pot holders and button necklaces to the English who happened by. She had also canned pie filling and pickled vegetables—okra, beets, and cucumbers. One wall of the shop had been reserved for his smaller leather goods. Key chains embossed with every letter of the alphabet. They were always popular. Dog leashes, dog collars, and braided bracelets. The last one he had to get special permission to sell, but when the bishop saw that the bracelets were made from the scraps from other projects, he approved them since they represented a lack of waste. Their community was nothing if not frugal.
Levi took another sip of his coffee and let his gaze wander a bit more. Behind the shop and just between it and the barn was his leather shop. It was almost as big as his barn, since he had to have room to hang leather that he was dying or stretching. He also had to have plenty of room for saddles. He did saddle refurbishing and repair for the English and Amish alike. Though truth be told, not many Amish owned a saddle. When they wanted to ride a horse, most Amish kids simply grabbed a handful of mane, hoisted themselves up, and rode bareback.
His coffee had cooled and his fifteen minutes were up. If he didn’t leave now, he would be late. Just on time was okay, but late not at all. Levi poured the coffee down the sink and set the mug upside down inside it. He’d wash it when he got back home.
He made sure all the lanterns were extinguished—a habit, really. He hadn’t lit any when he got up, but Mary had always done the same. Maybe it made him feel closer to her to perform her rituals. Or maybe he was avoiding the inevitable as long as possible. Coat, hat, and he was ready to go. As ready as he could be, anyway.
His horse was hitched to his buggy and tied to the post. She stood, ready and waiting for him to come out of the house. Levi shut the door behind him. The mare snorted and stamped her foot as Levi approached. Her breath was steamy in the cold December morning.
Church today. Then two weeks of quiet and solitude—Mims and well-wishers aside—and it would be Christmas. As unusual as it was, Christmas fell not only on a Sunday, but on a church Sunday. Maybe it was for the best. He would have to go unless he fell ill, but at least he wouldn’t have to spend Christmas morning with his folks and his sister thinking about how much he missed Mary and how, if ever, he was going to heal from the heartache.
* * *
“You’re not dressed.”
At her mamm’s words, Tillie looked down at herself. She was dressed in perfectly acceptable clothing. For the English world, that was. She had on a long skirt, boots, and a sweater that may have molded a little too closely to her belly, but finding modest English clothes was a chore at best. Trying to find modest English clothes when you were pregnant was almost impossible. It seemed that English women were proud of their growing bellies and liked to wear clinging shirts and dresses to show them off.
“You’re not dressed for church,” Mamm corrected before Tillie could say a word.
“Church,” she murmured. She wasn’t dressed for church because she wasn’t going. Her arrival in town had caused enough of a stir, she surely didn’t want to shock everyone out of their shoes by showing up at church. But how did she tell Mamm that?
“I don’t have a dress.” Relief washed over her. She couldn’t go to church without a proper dress. And even though Amish dresses were pinned in order to give a woman a little more room, one of her old dresses surely wouldn’t be big enough to accommodate her large belly.
Mamm seemed almost resigned as she looked her up and down. Then she snapped her fingers, her face lighting up like the sun. “I know. Anna.”
Tillie inwardly groaned. Her sister-in-law. Jim’s wife. It had been a few years since she’d had a baby, but she was still in those years and surely she wouldn’t have gotten rid of maternity dresses.
Before Tillie could protest—not that it would have done any good—Mamm bustled out the door and over to her brother’s house.
It only took a few minutes for her mother to run to Anna’s and come back with a beautiful purple dress. Only a few minutes, but long enough that Tillie knew there was no getting out of church.
She sighed a bit as Mamm handed her the dress. Then shook out the white cape and apron for her to put on next. “Let me know if you need help pinning it over your
