Naomi’s Christmas by Marta Perry Page A

words,” he said. “I’m not
     in school yet.”
    She’d intended to wash the dishes while they worked on their letter, but the dishes
     could wait. “I will be happy to do that with you, Joshua.”
    Sadie was already busy with her picture, the tip of hertongue showing between her lips as she concentrated. Naomi had never seen a purple
     hive, but she didn’t intend to discourage the child.
    Joshua, a sheet of lined paper in front of him, studied all the crayons before picking
     up a red one. “What should I say?”
    “Suppose you start with ‘Dear Grossmammi,’” she said.
    He nodded and bent to the paper. To her surprise, he didn’t need as much help as she’d
     expected, given that he wasn’t in school yet.
    He had turned six in September. Nathan certain-sure could have started him in school
     if he’d wanted. Apparently he hadn’t wanted.
    She spelled a word here and there, helped Sadie decide on the colors for the trees
     she was drawing, showed Joshua how to spell
hive
. It was very peaceful in the warm kitchen, and she began to relax, just as the children
     did. Her fears had been silly, maybe. For sure she would miss Joshua and Sadie when
     their time together was over, but this was a unique chance to get to know Ada’s children
     better. She shouldn’t let her own private grief affect that fact.
    The door opened and she looked up, startled, not expecting Nathan to return so soon.
     But it wasn’t Nathan, and her stomach clutched. Jessie Miller, Ada’s youngest sister,
     stood there, door open behind her, letting a blast of cold air into the kitchen and
     sending the children’s papers fluttering to the floor.
    That was Jessie, for sure. She always had to make people look at her. Though she must
     be over twenty by now, she acted much of the time like a thirteen-year-old, causing
     her mamm, Emma, endless worry. As the Plain People said delicately, Jessie was a touch
     odd.
    “Jessie, how nice to see you. Shut the door, please. You’re letting the cold air in.”
     Naomi had found, over the years, that addressing Jessie as calmly as if she were about
     ten worked as well as anything.
    Jessie shut the door with a decided slam. “You can leave now, Naomi,” she announced.
     “I’m going to take care of my sister’s children.”

C HAPTER F OUR
    N
athan
stopped on his way into the barn, his attention caught by the buggy pulled up by
     the back door of the house. He knew it, for sure. It belonged to Ada’s mother. And
     since Emma was off in Ohio already, it could only be Jessie, her youngest daughter,
     who’d driven it here.
    Concern flicked at him like a pesky gnat, and he tried to wave it away. It was natural
     enough for Jessie to stop by, wasn’t it? With her mamm away, she was probably lonesome.
    Still…without pausing to analyze his reaction, he headed for the house. Emma had talked
     about taking Jessie with her when she went to help her other daughter, but for whatever
     reason, it had come to nothing.
    Maybe he should have offered to keep track of Jessie while Emma was away. Concern
     turned to guilt. Emma did so much for him and the kinder—that was the least he could
     have done. But he couldn’t help cringing at the thought of trying to watch over her.
    He opened the back door and stepped through the mud room to the kitchen, not bothering
     to take his jacket off. He didn’t think to be inside that long.
    Papers and crayons were scattered across the kitchen table. It looked as if Naomi
     and the children had been working on a project when Jessie came in. At the moment
     Joshua and Sadie were watching their aunt with a bit of wariness.
    Jessie swung to face him, and as always, he was forcibly reminded of Ada—same rosy
     cheeks, same curling brown hair and sparkling eyes. But what had been pertness in
     Ada was something sharper in Jessie. She was as impetuous as a child, he sometimes
     thought.
    “Jessie, I did not think to see you today. Is there any word from your