Christmas at Promise Lodge Read Free Page A

their own.”
    â€œYou’re an innovator, for sure and for certain,” Amos agreed. “The best thing I ever did was sell my place and come to the tiny town of Promise with you and your sisters. I feel like my life and my efforts matter now, as we build houses for our new neighbors. The land is like a paradise and the air smells cleaner—”
    â€œThat’s because I showered this morning,” Mattie teased.
    She faced Amos, loving the way his laughter eased the lines time had carved into a masculine face weathered by the elements and life experiences. Her life would’ve been entirely different had her dat allowed her to marry Amos Troyer when she was young instead of insisting she take up with Marvin Schwartz, who’d come into a farm with a house on it. Amos had been a fledgling carpenter without two nickels to rub together.
    At fifty, Amos was five years older than she, but his strong, sturdy body showed no signs of softening with age or health issues. He was a man in his prime, and he’d made no bones about wanting to marry her now that both of their spouses had passed. Sometimes Mattie was on the verge of blurting out a yes when Amos talked of getting hitched—and then memories of Marvin’s abuse would come rushing back to her.
    No, she wasn’t in a hurry to take on another husband, another household. But if she ever did, it would be with Amos.
    â€œI hope you’ll allow me the honor of sitting with you at dinner as we celebrate your son’s big day,” he murmured, squeezing her hand.
    Mattie smiled up at him, gripping his fingers before releasing them. His silver-shot hair and beard shimmered in the morning light, and he cut a fine figure in his black suit and white shirt. “I’ll be happy to, Amos. God be with you as you find the words for your sermon this morning.”
    Amos flashed her a boyish grin. “It’ll be God I’m listening to as I speak,” he said, “but it’ll be you I’m looking to for inspiration, Mattie. I hope today’s celebration turns out to be every bit as wonderful as you are.”
    Mattie flushed with pleasure, watching him walk to Noah’s new house to prepare for the service—the home Amos had designed and then built with the help of the other local fellows, with interior walls that could be removed to accommodate large crowds for church services. Amos’s hands were calloused from years of carpentry, but there was no softer, more loving heart on God’s green earth.
    * * *
    A few hours later, Amos sat on the preacher’s bench trying not to scowl. After a full-length church service they had progressed into the wedding, and he had preached the first sermon on the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians—about how love was patient and kind, an example of the humility Plain folks were to strive for. Bishop Floyd Lehman was now delivering the second, longer sermon before he would lead Noah and Deborah in their marriage vows, and his tone was becoming more strident as he discussed the duties of husband and wife to each other and to God. It was an appropriate topic, but some of the folks in the congregation appeared to be shrinking into themselves like turtles retreating into their shells, probably because the bishop’s resonant voice had risen to fever pitch.
    â€œAs we consecrate the union of this young Amish couple, I must insist that the single and widowed men and women among us find mates immediately ,” he exhorted. “Before the snow flies, I expect to see you—Matilda Schwartz, Christine Hershberger, Rosetta Bender, Amos Troyer, and Marlin Kurtz—standing before me to take your wedding vows! It’s unnatural for God’s children to live alone, or for women to engage in any business other than making a home for their families. Moreover,” he continued, gesticulating dramatically, “our colony cannot condone the intermarriages of Old Order