Free Christmas in Apple Ridge by Cindy Woodsmall Page B

Beth lifted the wooden treasure out of its cardboard box and noticed Jonah had carved scenes all the way around it. When she lifted the lid, she discovered a note.
    D EAR B ETH ,
    M AY THESE SCENES FILL YOUR MIND WITH SERENE THOUGHTS SO THAT GOOD DREAMS FOLLOW .
    P SALM 4:8—I WILL LIE DOWN AND SLEEP IN PEACE, FOR YOU ALONE , O L ORD, MAKE ME DWELL IN SAFETY .
    J ONAH
    The note made her feel warm and safe, but holding on to any good feelings had been impossible this past year. She’d made her peace with God concerning Henry. That didn’t weigh on her. She trusted Him and His judgment. Unfortunately, she didn’t trust her emotions or judgment.
    Without sharing what Jonah had written, Beth tucked the note back into the gift box. “I should go.”
    “Don’t you want to stay and drink some coffee with us?”
    Beth shook her head. “I want to write Jonah. I’ll have the buggy hitched at seven thirty in the morning so we can help Mamm get the beds made and the breakfast dishes washed before anyone arrives for church. I’ll see you then.”

    The air around Lizzy vibrated with hope and fear. When Beth learned the truth about Jonah—which she was bound to do—would she holda grudge against her like she’d held on to her grief? The question bothered her, but the risk would be worth the price if it helped Beth more than it hurt her.
    Lizzy had confessed her deception to Omar, and in spite of his disapproval, he’d not insisted she tell Beth or Jonah. Instead, he’d asked her to pray and to be very careful to hear God.
    Omar stirred his coffee, making a clinking sound against the mug. “When will it dawn on her that I’m not visiting this often because of my duties as a bishop?”
    Lizzy felt her cheeks turn pink. It seemed too adolescent to be in love for the first time in her long life. “I’m hoping the two of you can work some things out first.”
    Omar slid his hand toward hers, making her heart pound, but then he stopped and returned it to his lap. His sense of propriety ran deep. He’d not even touched her hand when they were alone, and he couldn’t touch her when around others—not yet, maybe not ever. His position as bishop required him to be above reproach, even more than regular folk.
    A lopsided smile etched his ruggedly handsome face. “It’s not enough that I’ve spent two years earning your approval. Now I need Beth’s too?” There was humor in his voice, but she also heard concern.
    “She’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a child of my own.”
    “And she’ll always be deeply special to you. She’s a part of you and you of her, but we don’t know that you’ll never have a baby, Lizzy. You’re thirty-eight. We’ve seen women give birth well into their midforties.”
    “Ya, women who have been having babies half their lives. Theirbodies are primed, like a pump that leads to a spring-fed well. And mine is a desert.”
    A tender, adorable smile radiated from him. “Will you mind too much if we can’t have a child of our own?”
    Lizzy drew a deep breath, basking in the warmth of the newly burning fire within her. “I never expected to find love. I’ll be content forever.”
    “And after I buried Ruth and spent years raising my children, I never considered I might find love again.”
    Lizzy’s heart turned a flip. Did he practice saying the right thing? “I need you and Beth to … to bond. I don’t want to lose a child in order to gain a husband.”
    “You know that I wish Jonah’s work didn’t feel like a graven image to me. It’s not so much the gift box or wind chimes as those statuelike items he makes. Perhaps I should go see his bishop. Maybe I’d come to see those carvings differently.”
    “But the bishop is Jonah’s own Daed. You could spill my secret without meaning to.”
    A troubled look removed every hint of a smile, and he went to the coatrack. He took his hat and jacket. “How long will you carry out this secret plan of yours?”
    “You saw her