Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I t was a long-standing tradition in the Troyer family for everyone to eat together on Christmas Eve. Whether it was eight people, or fifty, Annie Troyer wouldn't have it any other way. Fold-out tables were lugged inside from the storage areas in the barn and basement, fifty metal chairs were unstacked and carefully wiped down, and most of the living room furniture was pushed against the walls.

And then the women got to work. Crisp, white tablecloths were spread out over each table. Next, plates, silverware, and glasses were distributed, and pine boughs were carefully cut down and spread along the center of each rectangular table. Finally, gold place card pinecones were put out so each person knew where they were supposed to sit.

That was the easy part.

The hard part was preparing all the food for the big event. Some folks hosting fifty people might have gone the casserole route. Chicken and rice casserole was easy enough to prepare for ten, twenty, or fifty folks. Some might go with lasagna.

Annie refused to serve something so mundane to her best friends and family.

It was a blessing that the Troyers had so many hardworking and experienced cooks. Most of the women had grown up cooking for large numbers, and feeding fifty people Christmas Eve supper didn't faze them in the slightest.

It was also a blessing—though few were brave enough to say it out loud—that Annie Troyer was bossy. She had no problem giving everyone around her something to do. Both Tricia and Mark had learned at a young age that the jobs they were assigned were absolutely not suggestions.

In years past, Tricia had sometimes resented her extended family's traditional Christmas family reunion. More than once she'd asked her mother why they couldn't have their family reunion in the summer like other people. Having time to relax and enjoy the miracle of Jesus's birth sounded like a good thing.

All her mother had done was smile, give her a hug, and go help her Aunt Annie.

Now, however, as she was seated next to Brandt at the end of a long table and the supper was finally underway, Tricia felt that all the blood, sweat, and tears had been worth it. She was glad she had a family that went to such great lengths to gather together—and to include so many other people in the gathering. It was a blessing.

In fact, everything would be wonderful if she wasn't getting the feeling that Brandt was bothered by something.

"Are you all right?" she whispered. "Are you too cramped?" They truly were sitting as close to each other as sardines in a can.

"I'm fine, Tiger."

He wasn't looking at her though. No, something was absolutely not quite right. "When we're done, we can go sit down somewhere," she added. "We won't have to wash dishes all night."

"I'm not worried about dishes."

But did that mean he was worried about something else? She drew a breath. "Oh, if you—"

He reached out under the table and squeezed her knee. "Stop worrying and relax. Okay?"

"Okay."

Looking pleased, he removed his hand just as Uncle Abel stood up.

Mark, who was sitting across from them and therefore blissfully unaware of their exchange, leaned back in his chair.

So did several other people who had been guests at the meal.

Tricia didn't blame any of them for attempting to get a little more comfortable. Her uncle's traditional Christmas Eve speech was historically long-winded.

"It's that time again," Abel said as soon as all conversation stopped. "As I look around this room, my heart feels full to bursting. We make a right nice group, ain't so?"

"Here, here!" Carter said.

Everyone laughed.

Her uncle continued. "I'm also filled with gratitude for my frau, Annie. She and many helping hands worked tirelessly to once again create a weekend to remember. Danke , Annie!"

Aunt Annie beamed as the room erupted into a round of clapping.

"I'd also like to take the opportunity to acknowledge the group of eight newlyweds who both organized and cleaned up yesterday's scavenger hunt. I think it was our best yet." After another round of applause, he looked around the room. "I cannot wait to see what next year's team comes up with!"

"Don't start making plans yet!" someone from the back called out.

"Oh, I'll wait until New Year's Day to do that," he joked. Looking more serious, Abel cleared his throat. "You know, every so often someone will reach out to me about September and hint that maybe we don't need to gather together yet again. Or perhaps suggest that going to every other year might be better. Sometimes I even believe they have a point. Many of you go to great lengths to be here."

Though she didn't feel her uncle's gaze settle on her, Tricia felt as if it might have been.

He stretched his arms out wide. "But then, just as I start asking God what His opinion is about the matter, I'll meet someone at an auction or the market or even Walmart."

"You do enjoy a trip to the supercenter like no other, Abel!" her father called out.

He grinned. "I canna help it. I'm only a man . . . with a fondness for wandering around aisles." He took a deep breath. "Seriously, though, what always seems to happen is I'll run into a friend or one of our own and we'll get to talking." He lowered his voice. "And I'll learn that maybe the year hasn't been all that easy for him. People get sick. Animals do, too. Work gets hard or there are layoffs. Or the crops don't bring in what was expected." He swallowed. "Or, even, perhaps, there's something else that's going on that's only between him or her and the Lord."

When he paused, Tricia was fairly sure one could hear a pin drop. Every eye was trained on Uncle Abel. "And then that person admits this gathering means the world to them. Because it's a happy time." He chuckled. "Sure, it's also chaotic and crowded. We do silly things, like go scavenger hunting in old houses. But I have to say that I feel the Lord is always with us. Everyone is surrounded by love, and sometimes we even find love here. And no matter what happens, I know that the miracle of Jesus's birth is always close to our hearts."

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "And so, even though I've already prattled on too long, I want to tell you that I'm real glad each of you is here. This reunion is worth all the trouble and headaches and work because in the midst of it, there are moments like this, when I am reminded of how blessed I am to know each of you. And because I have a sneaking suspicion I'm not the only one who feels that way. Merry Christmas and thank you for being here." He held up his glass of water.

Feeling tears in her eyes, Tricia held up her glass. Everyone else in the room did as well.

Just as Abel sat down, George, one of their neighbors, stood up. "I just wanted to share that I was a person who told Abel I was real glad we were gathering this weekend. I'm not your kin and I'm also as English as they come. But the acceptance and friendship I've found here means the world. My December would be a lot harder to get through if I didn't have this to look forward to. So, I propose a toast," he said as he raised his glass. "To Abel and Annie Troyer."

"To Abel and Annie!"

Annie stood up. "I love my husband and am fond of his speeches, but it's time to eat. Let's bow our heads in silent prayer, then start passing dishes. It's time to dig in."

Dutifully, Tricia bowed her head, gave praise to the Lord for bringing them together and for the food and the hands that prepared it. Also, Lord, if you could be with me and Brandt tonight, I would be grateful for that, too , she added silently.

* * *

Two hours later, she and Brandt were sitting alone in the barn. He'd pulled out an old steel trough, flipped it over, and tossed a horse blanket on top. There was just enough room for the two of them to sit side by side.

"I can't believe this is the only place we could find to be alone," she said.

"I don't mind—I've been kind of enjoying the animals' company this weekend."

Noticing that two horses had poked their heads over the stalls and were watching them with interest, she chuckled. "I think they might be enjoying our company, too."

Brandt grinned. "We'll have to see if they start speaking tonight."

"What in the world are you talking about?"

"There's an old myth that the Lord gave the animals the power to speak after midnight when Christ was born. They helped spread the word that Jesus had come."

"I've never heard of that myth."

"Well, it is a little fanciful. I've always liked it, though. I like the idea of God's son coming for everyone, even animals in the stable."

"All creatures great and small," she murmured.

"Exactly." He smiled at her in the dim light, but then his expression turned worried yet again.

She couldn't take the suspense any longer. "Brandt, whatever is on your mind, just tell me." Reaching out for his hand, she added, "I promise, I'll be happy to listen to whatever you have to say."

"I hope you mean that."

"I do. Just say it."

"All right." He inhaled, blew out a deep breath. Then at long last, spoke again. "Tricia, I've fallen in love with you. I know that there are lots of reasons why we shouldn't be together, but none of those matter to me. Not like you do. The only thing I know for certain is that one day I want to go to this reunion with you by my side." He swallowed. "One day I'm going to want you to be here not just as a Troyer, but as a Holden, too."

As a Holden. He was talking marriage. Love and marriage. Tricia stared at him in shock.

Looking upset with himself, Brandt wrapped his other hand around hers. "I'm sorry. In my head, I practiced what I would say a hundred times."

"A hundred times," she whispered. This wasn't a sudden thing. He'd planned it.

"Okay, not a hundred times, but a lot." He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up this way and that. "I mean, I tried to think of the perfect words. I'm no poet or anything, but I thought I could handle that." Still looking as if he was talking to himself instead of her, Brandt muttered, "I never thought I'd blurt everything out like that."

Her heart went out to him. He was tearing himself up for not being perfect when she didn't need that. "Brandt—"

He cut her off. "No, Trish. It's okay." In a rush, he added, "You don't have to say a thing."

He was going to let her off the hook. She could smile, act relieved, and Brandt would understand.

Tomorrow morning, he'd probably act as if this moment had never happened so she wouldn't feel awkward. That was the man he was. No, that was the way he treated her.

But she wouldn't be okay with that. All she had to do was figure out how to respond. It was too bad the horses and goats in the stalls weren't eager to start talking right about now. She would welcome their help.

After a long silence, she realized that she needed time to think. Her reply would not only affect her future, but her family's, too. A decision this big probably warranted hours to respond.

"Brandt, I want to answer you, but I want to think of the right words, too. Can I come back in the morning and give you my answer?"

"You don't have to say anything."

Everything in his posture and expression told her that he'd given up on them. She felt guilty for making him wait, but she didn't want to say a single word that she would regret. Not for something this important.

"I'll be back here at six," she said.

"Six in the morning? That's early."

"I know, but I'll be up. It will be Christmas morning, after all."

"All right. I'll be waiting here for you at six." He glanced at his watch. "In six hours."

"It's midnight?"

Looking dazed, he nodded. "It's Christmas. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Brandt." She backed away before she gave in and flung herself into his arms. "I'll see you soon."

When she walked out of the barn, she shivered in the cold air, gazed up at the sky and noticed that hardly any stars were out. Clouds had come. Snow was on the way.

They were going to have a white Christmas. It was going to be a great day.

Thinking of Brandt, she shook her head. No, it was going to be glorious.