The boys were busy tossing snowballs, while the girls were flopping on their backs in the drifts making. angels.
With every shriek of laughter Fiona’s smile widened. It was so good to hear the joyous sounds of children.
She stepped out onto the porch to summon them inside and nearly collided with a burly figure.
“Mr. VanderSleet.” At the dark look in his eyes she took a step back.
He was holding firmly to his nephew’s wrist. “I’ve been told the boy’s been coming to school, where you’ve been teaching him. What gives you the right to go against my wishes?”
“I’m sorry. I know you said he was too busy to attend school, but I didn’t think you’d mind, as long as I didn’t keep him away from his chores.”
“Liar.” He dragged Will close and flung him against Fiona, knocking them both against the door. “You’re two of a kind. Liars. And sneaks, as well. I should have known this was where he was sneaking off to so early in the morning.”
When Fiona straightened, she drew Will behind her. “If you want to blame someone, blame me, Mr. VanderSleet. I should have known better. But Will assured me that he was keeping up with his chores. This boy has a bright mind. He’s as good with his mind as he is with his father’s tools.”
“My brother was too lazy to farm. He figured he could get by doing for others. And now his boy’s no better. Thinking he can live off me while breaking my rules. This is what happens to those who break my rules.” He closed his hand into a fist and lifted it to her face.
Though her pulse was pounding, Fiona refused to back away. Instead she lifted her chin and faced him squarely. “If you want to hit someone, Mr. VanderSleet, hit me.”
His fist shook, and it was clear he could barely contain his fury. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d go crying to the town council and I’d have the whole lot of them on my doorstep. Reverend Schmidt. Doctor Eberhardt.” He reached around her and snagged Will’s arm. “I’ll hit someone, all right. And next time, he’ll remember who puts the food on his table and the roof over his head.”
As they turned away, Fiona started after them, her mind whirling with every horrible scene she could conjure. Without being aware of what she was doing she tugged on Dolph VanderSlect’s sleeve.
He turned on her with a look of such darkness she almost lost her nerve. Then, steeling herself, she said breathlessly, “I beg of you, Mr. VanderSleet. Don’t hurt this boy. He’s been hurt enough by the loss of all those he loved.”
“Since coming here you’ve stuck your nose into things that don’t concern you. You run your school, teacher. I’ll run my own farnily.” His eyes narrowed, and he pushed her aside before turning and dragging his nephew away.
Fiona was forced to stand by helplessly while they disappeared into the woods. When at last she turned toward the schoolhouse, she realized that the children had huddled together to witness the entire frightening scene in strained silence. Only Edmer stood to one side. The moment she caught his eye, he lowered his head and turned away from her, and she knew. With terrible certainty she knew that he’d been the one to seal Will’s fate.
* * *
Fiona banked the fire and closed the door of the school, setting the brace before starting toward the Haydn farm. She’d dismissed the children early, and though her heart was heavy, she’d managed to wish each of them a happy Christmas before sending them on their way.
She saw Gray’s wagon lumbering toward her and knelt to scratch Chester’s ears as the dog bounded up. When she straightened, she realized that Gray wasn’t alone in the wagon. Seated beside him was Will. Seeing the bruises on his cheek she let out a cry.
Gray brought the wagon to a halt and climbed down before hurrying to her side.
“How did you...?” She peered over his shoulder at Will. “Where did you...?”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Word travels too fast in Paradise Falls. By now everyone in town knows about your encounter with Dolph. I hurried over to his farm to see that Will wasn’t punished too severely.”
“Oh, Gray. Look at his poor face.”
As she started to push past, his hands at her shoulders stopped her. “You mustn’t fuss over the boy. It will only embarrass him more.”
“Fuss? Fuss?” She slapped at his hand, but he held her fast.
“Listen to me. Unless we find a way to resolve this thing between Will and his uncle, he could find himself with no home.”
“No home! Would your mother...?” She saw the quick shake of Gray’s head and knew the answer before she’d even finished the question. “Surely there’s someone.”
“There is no one who will go against Dolph VanderSleet. We must find a way for him to resolve this thing with his nephew.”
Fiona hung her head. “I can’t bear to think of Will going hack to his uncle’s home.”
“I asked him if he wanted to return. He said he does. Remember, that is his only home. It was home to his father and grandfather, as well.”
At the mention of his grandfather, Fiona’s eyes went wide. “Oh, Gray. There may be a way. That is, if Will is truly determined to return.”
When she told him what she had in mind, Gray shrugged. “I can’t believe it would make any difference to a man like Dolph. But, anything is worth a try.” He walked with her to the wagon and helped her up to the seat beside Will.
The boy ducked his head, and Fiona bit back any words of comfort. If Gray were right, it would be better to pretend that she couldn’t see the result of his uncle’s anger.
As they drew near the VanderSleet farm, Fiona found herself whispering a fervent prayer.
Oh Da. Help me to say and do the right thing, so that Will and his uncle can get beyond this anger.
When the wagon came to a halt, the door slammed and Dolph stepped onto the porch. “Came back for more, did you?” He glared at the young woman seated beside his nephew. “You’re not welcome on my land, teacher.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. VanderSleet. It won’t happen again. I hope you’ll accept my apology. I thought I was doing a good thing by teaching Will to read. He told me the only thing he wanted to do was read the Bible, the way his grandfather had.”
The man’s eyes narrowed with disbelief. “My father was a great man in the old country. Many came to him to have their family documents read aloud. Are you suggesting that in just a few months you could make this boy as smart as that?”
“I can’t make anyone smart, Mr. VanderSleet. All can do is share the little knowledge I have. What I’m saying is that Will has been blessed with a good mind. With enough education, he has the potential to become a great man like his grandfather. Perhaps you would permit him to read to you from the family Bible?”
The man looked from his nephew to the teacher, before turning on his heel and striding inside. Minutes later he stepped out, carrying the heavy, leather-bound Bible. When he beckoned, Gray helped Fiona down from the wagon seat, while Will scrambled down behind her.
When they climbed the steps Dolph flipped open the Bible and shoved it toward Will. “Read.”
Will merely stared at the words until his uncle poked a finger in the middle of the page. “You will read this. Now.”
“It’s...” Will swallowed. “It’s the Book of Psalms.” He cleared his throat and glanced at Fiona, who managed a weak smile of encouragement.
“Give up your anger, and forsake wrath; be not vexed, it will only harm you.”
Dolph snatched the book from his nephew’s hand and studied the words, though both he and his nephew knew he couldn’t read. “You aren’t making this up?”
“No, sir.”
He handed back the Bible and gave a curt nod of his head. “More.”
“For evildoers shall be cut off, but those who wait for the Lord shall possess the land.”
Dolph slowly nodded as the familiar words washed over him. “I remember my father reading that. It was one of his favorites. Maybe that’s why the book opened to this page.” He glanc
ed over Will’s head to where Gray and Fiona stood. “I’d forgotten how much I missed the sound of my father’s voice, reading from the Bible.”
He lowered his head, deep in thought. An ominous silence settled over them. Finally he lifted his head and took a deep breath before saying, “Would you come in?”
Fiona turned to Gray, who shook his head. “Another time, Dolph. We’ll be going home to supper now.”
The older man nodded. “Another time them.” He turned and opened the door, holding it for his nephew. “Come in, Will. It’s cold outside.”
Will paused a moment, then closed the Bible and followed his uncle. At the door he turned. “Goodbye, Miss Downey. Mr. Haydn.” Almost as an afterthought he called, “A happy Christmas to you.”
Gray put a hand beneath Fiona’s elbow. As he escorted her to the wagon he muttered, “I believe it might just be a happy Christmas now, thanks to your quick thinking.”
TWELVE
“Fleming.” Rose had been up since dawn, shouting orders at her men to fetch wood, stoke the fire, or go to the root cellar in search of dimpled apples and rarely used spices. “I need these apples peeled.”
“Yes, Ma.” Flem whistled a little tune while he set to work.
“What can I do, Mrs. Haydn?” Fiona came to a skidding halt in the doorway and stared around in fascination.
A sideboard was piled high with more food than Fiona had ever seen at one time. Braided breads dotted with dried fruits and nuts. Loaves of steaming pound cakes wrapped in rum-drenched linen towels. Strudel, dusted with sugar. Pies and tarts filled with custard and cherries and sweet dark pumpkin.
The wonderful aroma of cinnamon and licorice and anise permeated the air. Was there any doubt that it was Christmas Eve?
Rose removed yet another loaf of bread from the oven and set it by the window to cool. “I want you and Gray to begin delivering these to our neighbors.”
“Oh, how grand. Do you bake something for everyone?”
“Of course. It’s our tradition. Now go and get ready.”
Fiona danced away to fetch her coat and shawl. When she returned Gray was helping his father into his boots.
“I don’t know why you insist on going along.” Rose pounded a lump of dough, then turned it and pounded again. “You’ll only slow the young people down.”
“I don’t mind taking him, Ma.” Gray helped his father to his feet, before fastening his coat. “It’ll do Papa good to visit with our neighbors.”
Rose arched a brow. “And sip their lager. I know what you’re up to, Grayson Haydn. Do you think I won’t know your father’s been drinking?”
“It’s Christmas Eve, Ma.” Flem dipped his finger in the bowl of frosting before brushing a kiss over her cheek. “You wouldn’t want to break with tradition now, would you?”
She touched a hand to the spot, leaving a dusting of flour, and relented, as he’d known she would. “Just see that your father returns in time for supper. I’m cooking a goose.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Broderick leaned on his son’s arm as the two started out the door.
Instead of helping his father into the back of the wagon, Gray lifted him up to the hard wooden seat. Once Gray and Flem started loading the back of the wagon with sweets, Fiona understood why. By the time they’d finished, there was enough to feed the entire town of Paradise Falls, with some to spare.
Gray helped her up, settling her between him and his father.
She turned to see Flem disappearing inside. “What about your brother?”
“He’ll stay and do Ma’s bidding.”
“And eat everything in sight,” Broderick added with a sigh.
As Gray flicked the reins she turned to him. “Will we really be able to deliver all of this in one day?”
“We’d better. Well need the back of the wagon for Papa to sleep off the beer on the ride home.”
Beside her, Broderick merely chuckled. It occurred to Fiona that he’d never seen the old man this happy.
Their first stop was at their nearest neighbor’s farm.
“Since his wife died, Herman Vogel lives alone,” Gray explained as they pulled around to the backdoor. “He has talked about going to live with a daughter, but so far there’s been no one offering to buy his farm.
A stooped old man with a thatch of white hair atop a face as wrinkled as the apples in the root cellar stepped out of the barn and crossed the yard to their wagon.
“Happy Christmas, Herman,” Gray shouted.
“And a happy Christmas to you, Grayson. Broderick.” The man peered at Fiona through cloudy, milk-blue eyes. “Our teacher?”
“Fiona Downey, Mr. Vogel,” she called. “And I wish you a happy Christmas, as well.”
“The same to you, miss.” He whipped his hat from his head and stood watching as Gray climbed down and retrieved several bundles wrapped in linen cloth.
“Ma sent you some wurst and leberkase. And a strudel.”
“My thanks to your kind mother.” The old man managed a Warm smile. “Will you come in and share a glass of lager?”
Before his father could answer Gray gave a quick shake of his head. “We thank you, Herman. But we have many more farms to visit before the day is over.”
He flicked the reins, and Fiona turned to watch as the old man climbed the steps to his porch. When they were out of earshot she said, “That was kind of your mother.”
Gray nodded. “Ma loves Christmas. It’s her time to shine. And Flem’s,” he added. “If Flem had his wish, every day would be Christmas.”
Beside Fiona, Broderick gave a grunt of displeasure. “He eats and drinks as though every day is.”
The three of them were laughing as they stopped at the next farm, where Greta Gunther wiped her hands on her apron and persuaded them to come inside to sample her chicken, wurst, and wonderful dark-bread, all washed down with sips of beer. When Fiona hesitated, Greta offered her strong black tea instead.
By the time they’d visited the sixth farm, Fiona was protesting that she couldn’t eat another bite, while Broderick, after sampling half a dozen lagers, was happily humming a little tune.
“Where to now?” Fiona asked as Gray settled his father on the high, hard seat.
“It’s the VanderSleet farm.” Gray flicked the reins.
Fiona clasped her hands together tightly, steeling herself against the knowledge that she might have to look at fresh bruises on Will’s face.
Oh, Da, I don’t know what I’ll do if the anger is back.
As their wagon rolled to a stop the door opened and Dolph stepped onto the porch.
“Good day.” Gray swung down and walked to the back of the wagon. “Ma has sent mettwurst and roggenmischbrot.”
He walked up the steps and placed the linen-clad parcels in Dolph’s hands.
“I thank you.” Dolph looked over at Broderick and Fiona. “Will you come in? I have lager.”
Before Gray could refuse Broderick had taken hold of Fiona’s arm. “Of course we’ll come in.”
Gray lifted his father from the wagon and helped him up the steps, while Dolph held the door. Just then Will came around the side of the house. When he saw them he broke into a wide smile.
“Miss Downey. Look what my uncle has given me for Christmas.” He held up a small rusty saw. “It belonged to my grandfather.”
“Oh, Will. How marvelous.” Fiona turned to his uncle. “That was kind of you, Mr. VanderSleet.”
Dolph merely shrugged. “I thought the boy should have it, since he’s more handy with tools than I am.”
Once inside Dolph invited them to gather around the rough wooden table while he proceeded to cut into a wheel of cheese and brown bread before passing around glasses of lager.
Because she didn’t want to insult her host, Fiona took a sip and was surprised at how good it tasted.
Dolph glanced over at his nephew. “Why don’t you entertain our guests by reading something?”
While the others enjoyed their food and drin
k, the boy opened the Bible and chose a passage at random. As he read, Fiona glanced at his uncle, who sat with eyes closed, and a smile upon his lips.
At length he opened his eyes and nodded to his nephew. “That was good, Will. Almost as good as when my father read it to me. I think,” he added, “this will be the best Christmas in this house since my father left us.”
Fiona was grateful for the beer. It helped her swallow the lump that had somehow become lodged in her throat.
They stayed as long as they dared, before announcing that they still had to go to the Rudd farm to deliver food before going home to supper. As they made their way to the wagon, Will disappeared inside the barn, returning moments later with something wrapped in a length of faded blanket.
“Would you mind giving this to Edmer?”
Gray nodded as he assisted his father. “Put it in the back of the wagon with the food, Will.”
They left with shouts of happy Christmas ringing in their ears. When they were once more on the road, Fiona turned to Gray. “I can’t quite believe the change I’m seeing in Dolph VanderSleet.”
Gray nodded. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it either.” He gave her a nudge. “You might want to hold on to Papa. All that lager will soon have him nodding off.”
“Not a chance.” The old man laughed, though he seemed perfectly content to allow Fiona to loop her arm through his. “I’m having too much fun.”
They were still laughing as they rolled up to the Rudd’s big, sturdy farmhouse. Up close Fiona could see that it was the most prosperous in Paradise Falls.
Once again she braced herself for whatever was to come. She had neither seen nor spoken to Edmer’s parents since that horrible scene outside the church.
After bringing the team to a halt Gray touched a hand to Fiona’s arm. “I know you’re concerned, but whatever Christian may be thinking, he’ll be civil. After all, it’s Christmas Eve, and we’ve come bearing gifts.”