Karen Harper - Upon A Winter's Night

“So,” he said, shaking snow from a tree bough and staring at it, “would you like a job working at the tree barn for the next couple of weeks? I know you work for your father, but Gid Reich mentioned how good you are with customers there. It would be only for a couple of hours an evening, if you want. You wouldn’t have to run the cash register. Just oversee doughnuts and cocoa, chat people up.”

“Gid suggested it? That figures. He doesn’t like me working with the Yoder animals.”

“He’s pretty sweet on you, I’d say, and probably doesn’t want you to get hurt—by the animals or the situation.”

Lydia was going to ask him what situation he was referring to, as if she didn’t know, but Connor went on, “Gid’s one of my new investors in the tree farm. I’ve taken several locals on and plan to buy more land to the north, hire on some extra help since I’m now also ‘Mr. Mayor’ and my mother’s gone a lot.”

“I thank you for the job offer, and your family has always been kind to me, but—”

“My mother, especially. Some like to help stray animals, but she is always into causes for people—in her capacity as state senator, I mean. So, you’d better be heading home.”

Connor’s words reminded Lydia about the time he’d ordered her off their property years ago. Of course, it must have been hard on him to lose a father he’d adored to an illness with the big name of multiple myeloma. He was being kind now, at least, wasn’t he? Yet she sensed an edge to him. Others had mentioned it, too—their smiling new mayor with the invisible chip on his shoulder when he seemed to have so much going for him.

“See you tomorrow, Connor. I appreciate the job offer, but no thanks.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you.”

Lydia did not look back as she hurried down the hill, taking small strides so she wouldn’t slip. She’d pop in to tell her mother she was heading straight for Josh’s and she was late.

Still, it was the strangest thing. Maybe it was because she thought she’d caught Connor doing something bad, but every step she took down the hill, she was certain she felt his eyes boring into her back.

8

The next day, the morning of the Stark funeral, Lydia made breakfast for the family as she often did. She had not slept well last night, with disjointed dreams haunting her. More than once in the still-dark morning she caught herself staring out the window at her reflection. The glass was like a giant mirror, and she was wondering how much she resembled David and Lena Brand...David and Lena Brand...

Mamm seldom joined them until later, though this morning Daad had not appeared, either. As usual, Lydia and Daad would buggy separately to the store as soon as dawn lit the sky. Halfway through her oatmeal, she was surprised to hear him emerge from the side parlor, his private abode, instead of coming down the stairs. His firm closing of the door behind him echoed like a single knock as Lydia popped up to ladle out his oatmeal.

“You haven’t been working all night on a quilt, have you?” she asked, half-teasing.

“Maybe something I want to finish before Christmas, eh? I heard you stirring.”

“Ya,” she said with a little laugh. “Stirring the oatmeal for three and hoping it doesn’t clump up before Mamm gets down here. I told her I don’t make lumpy oatmeal, only if it sits for a while until she gets out of bed to eat it.”

She thought Daad might say something about the need to understand her mother, but he didn’t comment. He sat and bowed his head in a brief, silent prayer while she poured him orange juice and coffee. When he opened his eyes, they looked tired and bloodshot.

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