A Family for Christmas by Irene Brand Page B

had hosted two famous visitors in its heyday—Louis Philippe, Duke of Orleans, who later became king of France, and the Marquis de Lafayette. “The building is a museum now,” he said.
    â€œBut the Kesslers aren’t French?”
    â€œNo,” Evan said, as he pulled into the parking lot of a pizza restaurant. “I’d mentioned before that we’re Germans, but my ancestors were farmers, so they didn’t settle in town.”
    The restaurant wasn’t crowded, and the waitress gave them their choice of tables. They chose one close to the window, where Wendy had a glimpse of the Ohio River. They ordered a medium-size pizzaand a pitcher of soda. While they ate, Evan explained more about the history of the area, which was also a part of his heritage.
    Before they went home, Wendy stopped at a department store and bought an inexpensive pair of boots that would keep her feet warm during her visit. And she could also use them during rainy seasons at home.
    True to her word, Hilda had laid out several of her niece’s garments on Wendy’s bed. Wendy felt like she was accepting charity, a no-no according to her mother. Emmalee preferred to do without, rather than to take help when it was offered. Wendy had her share of pride, but when she slipped into the calf-length, down-filled coat that had a hood and deep pockets for her hands, any pride she had about accepting hand-me-down clothes disappeared in a hurry. Wrapped in that coat, she felt as if she were sunning herself on a Florida beach.
    She put on a sweat suit and went downstairs to meet Evan, carrying the heavy coat over her arm. Evan was waiting to take her on a tour of the farm.
    It took them several hours to check out the six hundred acres that made up Heritage Farm. The dairy barn, with four blue silos beside it, where Evan worked each morning, was located close to the house. Attached to the barn was a milking shed for the cattle and a cooling room to preserve the milk. Several sheds, where the cows could find shelter, were built around the dairy complex.
    Evan said that most of their cattle were Holsteins, but that in recent years, they had mixed their herdwith Jersey cattle. The majority of the animals were still black and white, but the younger stock showed the mixture of Holstein and Jersey blood.
    Evan drove first to the river tract where corn and soya beans were raised. Then they traveled slowly through a creek valley passing many outbuildings, employees’ homes and pasture fields where cattle and horses grazed.
    Before they returned to the house, Evan accessed a narrow road that led up a sharp incline through the woods. They came into a clearing, the site of a brick-veneered small house. Shrubbery bordered a wide porch along the entire front of the house. Snowflakes drifted through the barren tree limbs of the oak trees. A small herd of deer grazed in the clearing. Evan watched closely for Wendy’s reaction to the house. He wasn’t disappointed.
    She stepped out of the truck and looked at the dwelling, her eyes wide with delight. “Evan,” she said breathlessly. “You’ve saved the best for last. This is a storybook setting. Who lives here?”
    â€œNobody. It was the first home built by my ancestors. It’s been vacant since my grandmother died three years ago.”
    â€œLet’s go inside,” Wendy said, starting toward the house.
    â€œIt’s locked, and I didn’t bring the key. We’ll look at it another time. We need to get back to the house now. Snow and sleet are forecast for tonight, and I need to help our workers put out extra feed for the cattle.”
    â€œCan I help?” she said.
    â€œMaybe, but we’ll have to find some work clothes for you.”
    Back in the utility room, Evan said, “You can keep your sweats on, but take off your coat and your new boots.” He rummaged around in a closet until he found a pair of coveralls. “Try these on