Winter of Wishes Read Online Free PDF Page B

mom.”
    Was Andy feeling guilty about the breakup of his marriage? It wasn’t a topic Rhoda
     wanted to get into, even though she was curious about why the children lived with
     their dad instead of their mother.
    “I can’t fathom how that must feel,” she said with a rueful smile. “We Amish don’t
     believe in divorce, so I’ve not known anybody who’s gone through this—well, except
     for Preacher Tom. His wife ran off with a fella in a fancy car, without so much as
     a how-do-ya-do. But his kids are all grown and married, so that’s a horse of a different
     color.”
    Andy’s smile went lopsided. “Well, the good news is that Mom wanted to meet you badly
     enough that she got out of bed. She’s resting in the living room.”
    Rhoda hoped she didn’t appear anxious or fearful. Would she be able to assist a lady
     who’d suffered a stroke? The only disabled person she knew was Naomi’s husband, Ezra
     Brenneman, who’d fallen through the roof of a house he’d been building. Ezra was confined
     to a wheelchair, and because of phantom pain in his missing legs he was an unpleasant
     man most of the time. “I feel honored she’s made such an effort on my account.”
    Rhoda preceded Andy into the front room. The woman seated in an armchair wore a deep
     pink robe that had come untied, and her slippers were on the wrong feet. Yet her smile
     looked so hopeful . . . at least on the side of her face that hadn’t sagged. Oh, how
     hard it must be for the kids to see their gram this way. And how difficult it must
     be—how frustrating—for this poor soul to be trapped inside a body that had betrayed
     her.
    “Mom, this is Rhoda Lantz, the Amish girl I was telling you about,” Andy said loudly.
     “Remember that little bakery in Willow Ridge where we got those fabulous cinnamon
     rolls? She and her mom run that place!”
    “Oh, that’s so . . . nice,” the woman said with obvious difficulty. Her eyes brightened,
     though, and she reached out the hand that still functioned properly.
    Rhoda’s heart knotted in her throat. She knelt as she grasped that outstretched hand,
     so Andy’s mother could focus on her better.
    “This is my mom, Betty Leitner,” he said. “She came to help us out after Megan left,
     and well . . . stuff happened. But she’s a lot stronger than she was last month at
     this time.”
    “And I’m happy to hear that part,” Rhoda responded, grasping the withered hand between
     hers. Was Betty sixty or ninety? With her uncombed hair sticking out in tufts and
     the dry skin on legs that weren’t quite covered by her robe, it was difficult to judge.
    But what did it matter how old she was? Rhoda smiled up at her. “What would any of
     us do without our mothers and grandmothers?” she mused aloud. “My mamm sends ya her best—along with some Thanksgiving dinner! Can ya smell it in the oven?”
    Betty inhaled deeply. “Ohhhh. Stuffing.”
    “I bet those mashed yams and green beans’ll be just the thing. And if we have to help
     ya cut your turkey, well, that’s easy enough to do. Ya like turkey and stuffing?”
    “Yup.”
    Rhoda released Betty’s hand and stood up. “Taylor said she’d have the table set for
     us when we got back to the kitchen. Shall we see how she did?”
    As they started toward the kitchen, Rhoda watched Andy offer his mother an arm . .
     . observed how he helped her up, yet let Betty stand and then walk by herself. The
     thunder of fast footsteps descending the stairs announced Brett’s arrival, but he
     carefully went around his grandmother before darting past Rhoda.
    “Rhoda the Raptor,” he teased under his breath.
    “Brett the Brontosaurus,” she replied in the same low voice, pleased the boy had responded
     to her dinosaur game. This back-and-forth would be to her advantage when she had to
     give him some discipline—and that day would come as surely as the sun would rise tomorrow.
    Rhoda stepped into the kitchen ahead of Andy and his