Huckleberry Christmas

Book 3: Matchmakers of Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

Genres: Amish & Mennonite; Christian Romance; Religious & Inspirational; Clean & Wholesome Romance

Synopsis

A difficult marriage has left the Helmuths' widowed great-granddaughter, Beth, finished with wedlock. She's content to live with her great-grandparents and make a life for herself and her toddler son. But once she turns down handsome Tyler Yoder's proposal, it seems only fair to encourage him to find a suitable wife. Trouble is, his gentleness and generous ways are showing her how joyous a real meeting of hearts can be . . .



After a failed courtship, Tyler thought the best he could hope for in a wife was mere companionship. But spirited Beth is the one he longs to protect and hold close. Earning her trust is the hardest thing he's ever had to do. And soon, both will discover that forgiveness and understanding are gifts that only rekindled faith-along with the happiest of holidays-can bring.

Release date: October 7, 2014

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

Crouched on her hands and knees, Anna Helmuth shined her flashlight into the darkest corner of the cellar, where old storage boxes and ancient furniture gathered dust.

“Felty, dear,” she called, hoping her voice carried up the stairs, through the cellar door, and into the kitchen, where her husband washed up the dishes.

He might not be able to hear her, but she could hear him singing at the top of his lungs. “Each day I’ll do a golden deed, by helping those who are in need.”

It was no use. Felty was in one of his singing moods, and Anna wouldn’t be able to make him hear her. She grunted as she tried to get to her feet. Her left leg had fallen asleep, and she couldn’t budge an inch. Not a single inch. She turned off the flashlight, stowed it in her apron pocket, and slowly pushed herself backward with her hands. Her knees creaked like a pair of rusty hinges as she shifted to a sitting position. Propping her hand on a sturdy cardboard box, she attempted to pull herself up. No use. Her hinter parts would not cooperate.

How had she gotten herself into this predicament? She was only eighty-two years old, for goodness sake, hardly an old lady. It must have been that extra biscuit with strawberry jam she’d eaten for breakfast.

She could still hear Felty singing. “While going down life’s weary road, I’ll try to lift some trav’ler’s load.” Oh, how he loved that song!

If only he knew how badly his wife needed her load lifted at this very minute. “Felty, dear,” she called again.

She might be forced to crawl up the stairs. Either that or she could take a lovely nap on the cellar floor, and Felty would notice her absence when supper didn’t appear on the table.

Anna waited until he took a breath, then yelled as loudly as she could without straining her throat. “Felty, do you have Rhode Island?”

The refrain halted abruptly. Felty always attuned his ear to talk of license plates. Smiling at her cleverness, Anna heard him shuffle to the top of the stairs and open the cellar door. “Are you down there, Annie?”

“Jah, and I’m stuck. It wonders me if you could lend a hand.”

Felty clomped down the steps and peered at her by the dim light from the small window.

“My knees gave out,” Anna said.

Felty reached out both hands and, nearly toppling over himself, pulled Anna to her feet. Anna limped around the cellar, testing her legs for signs of arthritis. “Fit as a fiddle,” she finally declared.

“Why was you sitting on the floor?” Felty asked.

“I was looking for the baby crib.”

“That old crib? I chopped it up for firewood twenty years ago yet.”

“Firewood?” Anna propped her hands on her hips. “Felty, that crib cradled our thirteen babies.”

“And got mighty gute use. It was like to collapse with the next baby. So I burned it.” Felty’s eyes twinkled. “We ain’t had a baby in this house for forty years, and unless you’re thinking of bringing another one into the world, it was better as firewood.”

“Now, Felty. We need the crib for our great-great-grandson Toby.”

“Is he coming for a visit?”

“He and his mother are going to live with us. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

Felty massaged his forehead just above his right eyebrow. “Annie, what are you up to?”

“Amos has been gone over a year now, and it’s time we found Beth a new husband.”

“Beth told her mother she doesn’t want a new husband.”

“Well, that’s silly. I’m sure her mother didn’t believe that. Every girl wants a husband, and Beth has a son to consider.”

Felty wrapped his arm around his wife of sixty-three years. “I lost a lot of sleep over your last match, Annie-banannie. The doctor says I need a nap every day.”

Anna kissed Felty on the cheek. “I can’t see how a budding romance will interrupt your daily nap.”

Felty sighed in resignation. “Who is the lucky fellow destined for our great-granddaughter?”

“Do you remember Tyler Yoder?”

“Of course I remember him. Our grandson Aden stole his fiancée.”

“Lily and Tyler were never right for each other. But Tyler and Beth are a match made in heaven.”

“Made in heaven or in an Amish mammi’s daydreams?”

“Now, Felty, every match we’ve ever made has been a success.”

Felty grunted. “In spite of us, not because of us.”

“Beth needs our help. She’s obviously not very gute at picking her own husband.”

Felty shook his finger. “Don’t speak ill of the dead.”

Anna turned around and started climbing the stairs. “I didn’t say a word against Amos. It was more a criticism of Beth.”

“Where are you going? I still haven’t agreed to this.”

“Seeing as Tyler hasn’t set foot here since church five months ago, I’ve got to pay Aden a visit. I need an excuse to get Tyler to Huckleberry Hill. Aden still feels guilty about marrying Tyler’s fiancée, and when I tell him I’ve found Tyler’s match, he’ll be eager to help.”

“Annie, I don’t think I can stand any more lovebirds disturbing my peace.”

Anna stopped halfway up the stairs. “So, you admit they’ll fall in love.” She grinned. “We should buy a crib so the baby doesn’t have to sleep in a box.”

Felty chuckled softly and followed Anna up the stairs. “I slept in a bureau drawer until I turned three.”

“What a lovely thought, Felty. I can imagine that you were an adorable baby, like Beth’s son, Toby. Cute, lively, and in need of a father.”

“Every child should have a father. Especially our only great-great-grandchild.”

“I knew you’d come to see it my way.”

Felty shook his head in resignation as he paused at the top of the stairs to catch his breath. “Did I hear you say something about Rhode Island?”

Tyler Yoder jumped out of his skin as his open-air buggy came around the bend and he saw a small child standing in the lane directly in the path of his horse. “Ach, du lieva!” he yelled, as he pulled hard left on the reins to keep Dobbin from trampling the little boy. The horse swerved sharply and came to a stop a mere three feet from the child.

The toddler didn’t seem to understand how close he’d come to death. As the dust settled, he stared at Dobbin with one finger stuck up his nose and a big grin that revealed a mouth full of tiny teeth. His feet were bare and his orange-auburn hair perched wildly on top of his head. Tyler had never seen such an adorable child, but why he had the presence of mind to notice, he would never know.

His legs felt like pillars of gelatin as he set the brake and slid out of the buggy. Breathless and shaking, he ran, or rather stumbled, toward the little boy, who couldn’t have been more than two years old. Tyler glanced in the direction of the Helmuths’ house. What was this child doing out here all by himself?

The boy’s eyes grew as wide as buggy wheels when he saw Tyler coming toward him, and he turned and ran in the opposite direction, pumping his chubby little arms and giggling with glee. He must have thought Tyler wanted to play tag.

Tyler sped up but didn’t catch him before the toddler lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. The boy immediately voiced his indignation with an ear-piercing wail. When he caught his breath, he held it so long, Tyler feared he might hyperventilate. The second wail proved louder and more pathetic than the first. Tyler wrapped his hands around the boy’s waist and helped him to his feet. The child’s whole face turned damp as wetness spouted from his eyes and nose.

Unsure of what to do, Tyler pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and began mopping up the little one’s face. “There, there. No need to cry,” he said, in the most comforting voice he could muster. He caressed his little hand and patted him on the head while whispering, “Hush, hush.”

The boy stopped crying as suddenly as he had begun. He popped his finger into his mouth, whimpered halfheartedly, and stared at Tyler with wide blue eyes. Tyler lifted the little boy’s trouser legs. His knees were red, but the skin wasn’t broken, and judging from the fading bruise on his forehead and the small scab on his elbow, he’d been in a few tussles with the ground before. Children this age weren’t called “toddlers” for nothing.

“Let’s see what we can do about your trousers,” Tyler said, brushing the dust and gravel from the boy’s padded bottom and straightening his pant legs.

The boy held out his hands, and Tyler lifted him into his arms. He rested his head on Tyler’s shoulder and seemed to settle in for an extended stay. “Has it been a hard day already, little guy?”

Tyler snapped his head around as he heard a door slam behind him.

A young woman, gliding like a fast-moving tornado, stormed across the front yard. “How dare you?”

She snatched the toddler out of Tyler’s arms and held the boy’s head protectively against her chest. Tyler remembered her. She was the Helmuths’ great-granddaughter Beth, and she used to live in Bonduel. She’d married a man from Nappanee, Indiana, who had passed away recently. Tyler hadn’t laid eyes on Beth for three or four years.

At the moment, Beth looked more like a badger than the Helmuths’ great-granddaughter. She practically spit out her words. “Toby is just a baby. You never spank a baby.”

“Spank?” Tyler was stunned into silence.

“I turned my back for one minute, and then I looked out the window and saw you spanking Toby. Never touch him again or I’ll come at you with a hot poker.” She bounced Toby on her hip as if to comfort him, but he wasn’t crying. He didn’t even seem upset. Grinning at Tyler, he grabbed onto his own ear and squeezed it with his chubby little fingers.

Beth whirled on her heels, stomped across the front yard in half a second, and marched up the porch steps. She nearly ripped the door off its hinges before slamming it behind her.

Tyler kneaded the back of his neck. It was going to be a long day.

Beth closed the door with such force that it rattled Mammi’s front window. She’d done it. She’d stood up to that man and told him what was what. Her heart beat with exhilaration and indignation. The gall he had spanking someone else’s child! And a helpless toddler, to boot.

Mammi stood at the kitchen sink, elbow deep in dishwater. “Is everything all right, dear? You gave me quite a start.”

Beth held tight to Toby, while he struggled to free himself. “I’m sorry, Mammi. Toby must have escaped out the front door. When I looked out the window, a man was spanking him. I ran right out to fetch him.” Her legs quivered like overcooked spaghetti. She sat down to catch her breath.

Mammi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Who spanked my little punkin pie?”

Someone tapped on the front door. Beth’s heart pounded double time as she stood and peeked out the window. “Him. He’s the one.”

Mammi bustled to Beth’s side and stood on her tippy toes to get a good view of the horrible man standing at the door, waiting to be let in as if he hadn’t just offended the entire family.

Beth was horrified by Mammi’s reaction. Mammi burst into a grin the size of the sky, clapped her hands, and almost tripped over her feet trying to reach the door. She flung it open and flung out her arms to greet the visitor. “Tyler Yoder, you are a sight for sore eyes yet.”

Beth’s arms tightened around Toby as Tyler walked into the room, his steps tentative, his brow dark and furrowed. Tyler Yoder. He had looked slightly familiar. Beth remembered seeing him at gatherings and singeons before she married Amos and left Bonduel, but she didn’t remember him very well. After she had met Amos Hostetler, she hadn’t noticed any other boys, even the good-looking ones. Despite her hostility, she eyed Tyler appreciatively. He’d turned out quite nice to look at.

But he was still a dirty rat.

Tyler took off his hat and glanced at Beth as if she would pounce on him. “I’m meeting Aden here.”

“Cum. Sit down,” Mammi said. “Beth made some cookies. Would you like a cookie?”

Beth wouldn’t stand for being in the same room with such a person, even if Mammi acted as if an angel had crossed their threshold. “I’m going to my room,” she said, still gripping wiggly Toby in her arms.

Tyler jumped to attention. “Wait. I’m not sure why you’re so mad at me, but I want to apologize.”

“Apologize? Since when does a man like you apologize?”

“A man like me?” He seemed more puzzled than angry at her insult. “What do you mean?”

“A man who hits little children.”

He bowed his head and looked as if he had been stricken with some very bad news. His humility surprised her. “I would never hit a child.”

“I saw you from the window.”

He fixed Beth with an earnest gaze. “I don’t want you to think I’m looking for an argument, but that’s not what happened. I almost ran over him and—”

Beth felt the heat rise in her cheeks as if she’d swallowed a boiling pot of tea. “You almost ran over him?”

“I didn’t expect to see a baby playing outside unsupervised.”

Beth pressed her lips into a hard line and bounced Toby up and down with renewed intensity. “So now you think I’m a bad mother?” She tightened one arm around Toby and poked Tyler forcefully in the chest with her finger—just to back him up a bit. “Let me tell you something. It’s not easy to raise a son by myself. Don’t judge me until you walk in my shoes. And don’t preach to me either.”

Tyler took a step back. “I’m sorry if you think I’m preaching. I’m just grateful I stopped the horse in time.”

“Were you mad because he spooked your horse? Is that why you spanked a twenty-month-old?”

With her hand still on the doorknob, Mammi stood frozen in place, grinning as if she thought their confrontation was wildly entertaining.

Tyler’s frowned deepened. “I didn’t spank anybody, and may the good Lord forgive me if I ever do.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “What do you think you saw? I brushed the dust off his trousers. He fell down, and I helped him up. No spanking involved. He gave me shock, but I wasn’t angry.”

Beth examined his expression and found only sincerity there. His eyes and face didn’t hold one spark of anger. She hadn’t expected that. Even the smallest things used to set Amos off.

Toby pushed away from her and reached out to Tyler. Beth’s jaw dropped to the floor, and she took a step back.

Toby only struggled harder against her grip. “Dow, dow,” he said.

Beth reluctantly set her son on his feet, and Toby immediately stretched out his hands for Tyler. Tyler backed away and Toby followed him, whining to be held. He backed Tyler to the wall, and Tyler acted as if a guard dog had cornered him.

Her mouth curled in amusement. Perhaps she’d been a bit hasty. Maybe what she thought she’d seen wasn’t what she’d actually seen. It was possible that Tyler had only been trying to help.

Tyler cocked an eyebrow and twitched his lips upward. “I’ll pick him up if you promise not to attack me with a hot poker.”

Beth knew she must be blushing clear to the tips of her toes. She’d made a complete fool of herself. Tyler’s intense scrutiny only succeeded in heightening her embarrassment. “Go ahead. He’s taken with you already.”

Tyler scooped Toby into his arms, and Toby wasted no time in snuggling against Tyler’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I got mad.” Beth studied Tyler’s solemn expression. She shouldn’t have accused him so harshly. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“I’m not mad.”

“I hurt your feelings.”

“Nae.”

“But you look so serious,” Beth insisted.

“So I’ve been told.”

Mammi finally shut the door and gave Tyler’s arm a pat. “Tyler is not inclined to smile, but a finer man you’ll never meet.”

Not inclined to smile? Mammi must be trying to make her feel better. If Tyler hadn’t been attacked by a crazed mother, he’d be inclined to smile. Beth felt the need to wipe that serious look off his face. Surely he would smile if he knew she bore him no ill will. “I panicked when I couldn’t find Toby. When I glanced out the window and saw you with him, I guess I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“It’s okay. I would have been frantic if I had lost my son.” He played with Toby’s silky soft fingers. “He must have an angel watching over him. Dobbin stopped just in time, praise the Lord.”

“Praise the Lord, indeed,” Mammi said. “I have to get used to having a little one again. I forgot to shut the door on my way in from the garden.” Mammi’s eyes twinkled as her gaze darted between Beth and Tyler. “I think I’ll go see what Felty is up to.” She practically skipped down the hall without another word.

Toby reached for the floor. Tyler set him down. A grin played at his lips as he watched Toby toddle to the rug and pat Mammi’s dog, Sparky. Beth tilted her head and gazed at Tyler. He might be of a solemn disposition, but he seemed inclined to smile at Toby.

Tyler’s piercing look caught her attention. “He has your eyes,” he said.

Beth wanted to smack herself as she felt a blush warm her face. She should have passed the shy schoolgirl stage years ago. “Denki. Most people tell me he looks like his father.”

“There’s a lot of you in him too.”

His gaze intensified and made Beth squirm a little. “He has my temper,” she said.

The hint of a smile traveled across his face before he cleared his throat and snapped out of whatever thought had distracted him. “Are you in town for a visit?”

Beth recited her carefully rehearsed explanation. “We’re staying with Mammi and Dawdi until we can find a place of our own in Bonduel.”

“I’ll keep my eye out. There was a nice little cottage north on one-seventeen, but it sold three weeks ago.”

“Out by the Millers’ farm?”

Tyler nodded. “You remember that old barn?”

“Jah. Mamm said it burned down six months ago.”

“A blessing in disguise. If the fire hadn’t taken it, it might have toppled in a wind storm and hurt somebody.”

Beth laughed at the memory of that old barn, so rickety that it creaked in a breeze and so charming that die youngie gathered there almost every week. “Toby could have given it a good shove and knocked it down. We had some fun gatherings there.” Her mind wandered back to the days of volleyball and rumschpringe and independence—blissfully happy years before her marriage. “Amos complained that I loved that rope swing more than I loved . . .” She lowered her eyes before she finished her sentence. She didn’t want to think of Amos today.

Deep lines of concern dug themselves into Tyler’s face. “I was sorry to hear about your husband’s car accident.”

“We are comforted that he is with God.” Another carefully rehearsed response.

“With a new baby, you must have been devastated. How long has it been?”

“Over a year, last June. Toby was not six months old.”

The deep compassion in his eyes surprised her. “It must be hard to be left all alone like that with a baby to care for. I’m sure it was a great comfort to have Amos’s family share the burden of your grief.”

“Jah” was all Beth could muster. She had stayed in that oppressive house for months, aching to return to Bonduel, knowing she would be callous indeed to up and leave the family so soon after Amos’s death. Amos’s mamm, Treva, had been battling cancer when Amos passed away. No matter how Beth had yearned to be away from the Hostetlers, she couldn’t have abandoned Treva, as sick as she had been.

Tyler misinterpreted the pain that surely must have shown on Beth’s face. He radiated genuine sympathy. “You must miss him very much.”

I don’t deserve your kindness, Tyler. I was overjoyed to have escaped Nappanee, Indiana, and the Hostetlers.

Noncommittal answers were almost second nature to her now. “He is with God now. I rejoice in that.”

In more ways than one.

My heart is blacker than the bottom of the deepest well.

An awkward silence followed. Beth refused to say more about Amos than necessary, and it appeared that Tyler had run out of words of consolation. Either that or he didn’t want to stir up Beth’s painful memories unnecessarily. Well, she had plenty of bad memories but probably not the kind Tyler imagined.

He studied her face for several seconds before clearing his throat. “Anna said you made cookies.”

“Oh . . . yes.” She retrieved the plate from the counter and held it out to him. “I’m not that good of a cook, but they do have chocolate chips in them. Chocolate makes everything taste better.”

Toby saw the plate of goodies and skipped to Beth’s side. Beth sat down and handed him a cookie. Tyler sat next to Beth at the table and lifted Toby onto his lap.

“Be careful,” Beth said. “Toby likes to take a bite, spit it into his hand, examine it, and then put it back in his mouth. He ends up quite messy.”

Tyler scooted Toby to a more secure position onto his lap. “I’d consider it an honor to be smeared with cookie goo. Babies don’t grant their affection to just anybody.”

Beth couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from the sight of Toby cradled safely in Tyler’s arms, arms that clearly did heavy work. A man didn’t get muscles like those by sitting around and yelling at his wife all day.

The memory felt as if someone had poked her, compelling her to rise from her chair and giving her a reason to pull herself from Tyler’s gaze. “Would you like some milk?” She quickly collected herself and shot him a teasing grin. “You might have to soak them for a few minutes. My cookies always turn out dry. Not on purpose of course.”

Tyler snatched one from the plate and took a hearty bite. “These are delicious. Just the way I like them.”

Beth tried not to take too much satisfaction in what he said. He was only trying to be polite. She poured milk into two cups and set both on the table. “One for Toby and one for you. Just in case.”

Tyler helped Toby drink his milk, which dribbled down his chin and the front of his shirt and dripped onto Tyler’s trousers. Tyler didn’t even flinch.

As they ate, Beth tried her best to wipe Toby’s face after every bite of cookie so Tyler’s shirt wouldn’t be a complete mess. He actually grinned when Toby waved his hands back and forth and bits of soggy cookie. . .