Christmas Comes to Morning Star Read online

  “Riley, we’ve gotta do better, boy,” he said as he

  slung his arm around the dog’s furry neck.

  “Keep reminding me that Molly

  won’t take me seriously unless

  I turn over a lot of new leaves, will ya?”

  Riley licked Pete’s face exuberantly. The dog loved to ride in the pickup every chance he got, and he’d been excited about returning to the twins’ place.

  Pete sighed as he checked the road for oncoming traffic. “Should’ve known I wouldn’t have any time alone with her, considering that she and her sister spend every waking moment together,” he remarked. “After all this time, I still want to rumple Molly’s short hair, you know?”

  Riley woofed in agreement.

  “Even though she and Marietta stick together like glue, I have to admire the way Molly’s supported her sister,” Pete continued as he drove toward town. “Not many Amish girls would’ve shaved their heads during a sister’s chemo, knowing how that goes directly against the Ordnung! I love that Molly broke the rules that way!”

  When his dog’s eyes widened, Pete laughed.

  “Uh-oh, I said that L word, didn’t I?”

  DON’T MISS ANY OF CHARLOTTE HUBBARD’S

  AMISH ROMANCES:

  A Mother’s Gift

  A Mother’s Love

  Seasons of the Heart series

  Summer of Secrets

  Autumn Winds

  Winter of Wishes

  An Amish Country Christmas

  Breath of Spring

  Harvest of Blessings

  The Christmas Cradle

  An Amish Christmas Quilt

  Promise Lodge series

  Promise Lodge

  Christmas at Promise Lodge

  Weddings at Promise Lodge

  New Beginnings at Promise Lodge

  Light Shines on Promise Lodge

  Simple Gifts series

  A Simple Vow

  A Simple Wish

  A Simple Christmas

  The Maidels of Morning Star series

  Morning Star

  First Light in Morning Star

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.

  Christmas Comes To Morning Star

  Charlotte Hubbard

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  RECIPE

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2021 by Charlotte Hubbard

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  BOUQUET Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-5183-1

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-5186-2 (eBook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4201-5186-X (eBook)

  Scripture:

  Luke 2:8–14

  8 And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.

  9 And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

  10 And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

  11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

  12 And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

  13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

  14 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

  In memory of my dear father-in-law, Wilber Hubbard,

  who was all about peace and good will.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank You, Lord, for helping me complete this book on time in spite of a pandemic, selling and buying a house, Neal’s dad’s passing, and a move to a new city. Life has been more of an adventure than usual lately!

  Many thanks, as well, to my editor, Alicia Condon—who has also weathered the pandemic under challenging circumstances—and to my intrepid agent, Evan Marshall. It’s such a blessing to work with both of you.

  Thank you, Vicki Harding, for your continuing research support from Jamesport, Missouri!

  Chapter 1

  Warmed by the sunlight streaming through the window of the newly expanded noodle factory, Marietta Helfing stretched. She felt like a cat, limber and strong, soothed by the low rumble of the motors that ran the two cylindrical noodle presses. As she carefully arranged a thin length of pressed dough on her worktable, she caught her twin, Molly, gazing at her from beside the other table, where she was also preparing to cut a large rectangle of dough into long strips.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Molly remarked as she picked up her sharp knife. “And you look like you have a lot of them.”

  Marietta smiled as she, too, began to cut her dough into long strips about four inches wide. “This time last year—the day after Thanksgiving—I was going in for my surgery, and I was frightened out of my mind,” she recalled as her knife moved deftly through the dough. “It’s such a blessing to be recovered and working at full steam again after all that time I was wiped out from chemo.”

  “And I thank the Lord every day that you’re back to normal,” Molly put in as they worked. “I’m looking forward to a fine, fun Christmas, not like last year, when we had to spend so much time getting you to your treatments. Another gift is being able to work side by side now that we’ve doubled our work space and equipment,” she added with a lilt in her voice. “Mamm would be amazed at the way her little business has expanded.”

  “Jah, she would.” Marietta got quiet, letting a wave of wistful nostalgia run its course. She missed their mother even mo
re than she missed her breasts, but she was determined to forge ahead—to meet the demands of the eager customers who thronged their noodle shop each Saturday at The Marketplace, where Amish folks around Morning Star, Missouri, sold the items they’d made.

  After today’s noodles were cut and drying on screens, she and Molly would bag and label the noodles they’d made earlier in the week so they could load the wagon this afternoon for the drive into town tomorrow morning. They kept a demanding schedule these days, yet Marietta felt good about paying down the bills she’d accrued following her bilateral mastectomy and chemo treatments. She and Molly would soon be banking enough income to support themselves well into their later years—an important advantage, considering that Marietta would never marry.

  After all, what man could possibly want a woman who was flatter than a strip of noodle dough—“damaged goods,” as Marietta saw herself—and unable to bear him children?

  When she glanced at her sister, who was placing the first strip of her noodle dough into the roller to flatten it again, Marietta noticed a rare frown on Molly’s face.

  “Penny for your thoughts, sister,” Marietta said as she, too, began feeding a strip of noodle dough through her roller.

  Molly shrugged, focusing on her dough. “Sure is quiet without Riley and Pete around.”

  Marietta’s eyes widened at her sister’s wistful remark. For several months, Pete Shetler and his golden retriever, Riley, had rented one of their two dawdi hauses, where summer tourists often stayed, because Bishop Jeremiah Shetler had thought it would be an improvement over his nephew’s former living arrangements. During his stay, Pete had done some much-needed maintenance around their farm, as well as remodeling their noodle factory—while his active young dog had mostly dug up Mamm’s flower beds, chewed the belts on their noodle-making equipment, and found other trouble to get into.

  Pete had moved into his uncle’s house, however, when Bishop Jeremiah had announced his engagement to Teacher Lydianne Christner. Both men had felt it would be more convenient for Pete to live at the Shetler farm during the winter while he did extensive remodeling on the bishop’s place. Although Marietta appreciated the return to a quieter routine without their renter, she sensed Molly had secretly adored the muscular blond carpenter and his rambunctious dog.

  “Maybe you should pay Pete a visit,” she suggested. “I bet he’d be tickled if you took over a pan of noodle pudding—”

  “Why would I do that?” Molly blurted. Her tone sounded playfully defiant, but her brow furrowed. “It’s not as though anything would come of a relationship—even if Pete took the hint and asked me out.”

  “Why not?” Marietta paused, hoping to express her concerns carefully. “Just because I’ll never marry, that doesn’t mean you should forfeit a potential romance. Sure, Pete’s clueless most of the time, but he seems trainable. And he’s awfully cute.”

  “Let’s not forget that Pete refuses to join the Amish church, so a romance would be pointless—if he even knew the meaning of the word,” Molly shot back. “Truth be told, I like Riley better than Pete anyway. I intend to remain here on the farm with you, sister, as we’ve always agreed,” she added quickly. “We’re turning thirty-five next month, so why would I want to change my life—and my attitude—to accommodate a husband?”

  Although Marietta still suspected her sister had feelings for Pete, she was greatly relieved to hear Molly’s vehement insistence upon staying at the home place. The two of them had spent very little time apart, so how would she cope with life alone in their farmhouse if Molly married? She didn’t even want to think about such a solitary existence.

  “And besides,” Molly continued as she fed another strip of her dough into the roller, “we maidels need to keep The Marketplace going, ain’t so? With Regina married now and Lydianne engaged to the bishop, it’ll soon be just us two and Jo running the place.”

  Marietta nodded. Jo Fussner had been the driving force behind creating The Marketplace from a dilapidated old stable nearly six months ago, and she’d planned the business venture as a project for her four maidel friends to share with her.

  “I really miss having Regina at the shops on Saturdays, and once Lydianne’s married to Bishop Jeremiah, she won’t be working away from home, either,” Marietta agreed. Once again she chose her words carefully, hoping Molly wouldn’t realize how worried she was about being alone. “Wouldn’t be fair to Jo if we married and left the management all on her shoulders. Her bakery keeps her so busy, I don’t see how she’d have time to take over all of the bookkeeping, as well.”

  “I’m hoping Lydianne will keep doing our accounting at home after she marries,” Molly remarked as they both began cutting thin strips of dough for soup noodles. “It’s not even December yet and Drusilla’s already clucking about Jo’s extra baking for the Christmas season. Can you imagine how she’ll fuss if Jo were to spend even more time doing all the organizing and accounting? Bwahk, bwahk bwahhhhk!”

  Marietta laughed out loud. Jo’s mamm was known for always seeing the proverbial glass as half empty rather than half full—and indeed, Drusilla Fussner often seemed to believe she had no glass at all. “We shopkeepers will all be busier than usual, starting this weekend when—”

  The familiar rumble of a pickup truck made them look toward the window. Molly’s face lit up. She quickly shut off her roller and washed her hands, laughing at the sound of a golden retriever’s raucous bark. Out of habit, she opened the door just wide enough to slip outside, preventing Riley from entering the noodle factory—and spoiling their morning’s work, if he plunked his huge front paws on a worktable covered with dough strips.

  “Shetler, we were just talking about you!” Molly called out.

  “Were you talking trash about me, or saying how much you miss Riley and me causing you trouble?” Pete fired back.

  Marietta shut off her roller, bracing herself against her worktable. Molly could deny it until the cows came home, but she was sweet on Pete Shetler, and he liked Molly more than he would admit, too. Their banter continued outside for a few moments, while Marietta tried to still the apprehensive fluttering of her heart.

  This is all in Your hands, Lord, but You know how lonely I’d be if Molly married and left me here by myself—even if she deserves her happiness.

  As the shop door opened, however, Marietta fixed a smile on her face. After all, if she’d conquered cancer, she could face whatever changes Pete Shetler might bring into their lives.

  “Riley, sit,” the blond carpenter commanded as he stepped inside. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Seems our bad penny has returned,” Marietta teased. “You’ve missed the way Molly and I bossed you around, ain’t so?”

  Pete laughed, tucking his thumbs into the side loops of the faded jeans he wore without a belt. “Truth be told, when I left here to live at Uncle Jeremiah’s place, I was paid up for two more months of rent—and I want you girls to keep that money,” he replied. “I know you’re still paying medical bills—and you invested a chunk of change in expanding your noodle factory, too. Besides,” he added as he glanced around the room he’d recently renovated, “Riley and I caused more work for you while we were here, so you deserve that extra cash.”

  Marietta’s eyes widened in surprise, and her sister’s jaw dropped. Who could ever have imagined freewheeling, irresponsible Pete Shetler saying such a thing? It occurred to her that their former tenant was letting them keep money his uncle had paid ahead, but she didn’t pick nits. Bishop Jeremiah had hoped Pete might become more responsible if he lived in their dawdi haus, so maybe the plan was working . . . a little.

  “That—that’s very considerate of you,” Marietta stammered.

  “You don’t have to do any such thing!” Molly protested. “I intended to refund that money, but we’ve been so busy making extra noodles for—”

  Pete held up his hand for silence. As he stood with one hip cocked and his clean, blond hair brushing the collar of his plaid flannel shirt, he
exuded a confidence that filled the noodle shop.

  He was cute and he knew it. Yet Marietta couldn’t help liking Bishop Jeremiah’s restless, unpredictable nephew.

  “Okay, so the money was my uncle’s,” Pete finally admitted. “When he asked me to renovate his entire house, I went along with his suggestion about living there—even though I knew how much you girls would miss me. Uncle Jeremiah realizes what a pain Riley and I can be, so he’s agreed that you should keep that rent money. I wanted you to know all the details, straight from the horse’s mouth.”

  Outside, Riley barked as though he were adding his two cents’ worth.

  “Okay, so this part’s coming straight from the dog’s mouth,” Pete continued with a chuckle. “Riley says he misses living here, because Mammi really lays down the law.”

  Marietta and Molly laughed. Bishop Jeremiah’s mother, Margaret, was a stickler for clean floors and an orderly home. Marietta suspected that Riley was far more exuberant than Margaret liked—but she would benefit from the extensive renovation her grandson was doing, so as long as Riley kept his paws off the kitchen table and didn’t run through the house barking, she probably wouldn’t complain too loudly.

  For a moment, an expectant silence filled the factory. Did Marietta detect a hint of uncertainty as Pete glanced at the two worktables covered with long, thin strips of noodle dough?

  “Everything going all right here in your new space?” he asked brightly. “Did I get all your new equipment hooked up right? Do you need me to move anything to a more convenient place while I’m here?”