Thankful Read online

  Contents

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Epilogue

  PS

  About the Author

  About the Book

  Read On

  Also by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Dedication

  To my agent, Mary Sue Seymour, who years ago mailed me an article about a group of Mennonites in Pennsylvania adopting children born to incarcerated parents—and sparked a whole series.

  Yes, miracles do happen to those who believe!

  Epigraph

  Call on me when you are in trouble, and I will rescue you and you will give me glory.

  Psalm 50:15

  If you can’t have the best of everything, make the best of everything you have.

  Amish Proverb

  Prologue

  Ten Years Ago

  “Betcha can’t put your skates on as fast as I can!” Christina shouted as she ran down the hill toward the frozen skating pond.

  Aden Reese grinned as he watched his neighbor plop on the ground, hike up her blue skirts to her knees, yank off her boots without untying them, and then at last stuff each foot into a snug white leather skate. Christina was two years younger than him—twelve years to his fourteen. Most boys he knew wouldn’t be caught dead playing with a twelve-year-old.

  But Christina?

  Well, there was something about her that he’d never been able to ignore. It wasn’t just her golden hair and light blue, almost silver eyes. No, it had more to do with her easy smiles. And the happiness that radiated from her.

  It was also the way she never acted sorry for him when she realized that his parents were so busy with their handcrafted furniture business that they often left him alone for days at a time.

  And the way she’d merely stood by his side two weeks ago, saying nothing when he learned that their van had gotten into an accident and they’d both died instantly. Instead, she’d slipped her slim hand into his and hadn’t even flinched when he’d clung to it like a lifeline.

  Christina was special to him. She was his friend. And one day? Well, she wouldn’t be too young, and neither would he. Then he would court her properly until she agreed to marry him.

  Until then, he would simply bide his time and look out for her.

  “Aden, how come you’re walking so slow?” she called out. “I’m ready to skate. What’s wrong?”

  “Me? Oh, nothing. Just a little cold, I guess. Um, will you be warm enough?”

  She practically rolled her eyes. “Jah. I have on mittens, a cloak, a wool scarf, and even a bonnet over my kapp. You don’t even have your coat on.”

  “I don’t need it like you need yours.”

  “I’m not a child, Aden.”

  “I know that.” Unfortunately, he knew that too well. Without wasting any more time, he sat down next to her and carefully removed his skate guards, then deftly switched out his boots for the skates. “Ready?”

  “I’ve been ready. You know how anxious I am to try out my new skates!” She gingerly walked down the path toward the pond’s edge, grasping his hand for support when he stepped to her side. She gave him a little smile of thanks before pushing off and gliding across the ice. With a feeling of satisfaction, he followed.

  Time seemed to stand still as he skated by her side, her voice ringing in the chilly air as she told him the latest stories about her brothers and sisters. He smiled, happy to hear her chatter, just content to be doing anything other than thinking about how he was now all alone.

  After they’d skated along the perimeter of the pond twice, she teased him again. “Betcha can’t catch me now, Aden!” she cried as she sped forward, racing across the middle of the pond looking beautiful and ethereal.

  Right until the moment he heard a sharp crack and watched her fall through the ice.

  His heart froze. “Christina?” he called out, skating around the edge until he got to where she was.

  Her head popped up. She gasped. Her skin was already blue, her eyes panicked. Before he even considered the best plan of action, he jumped in.

  The water was jarringly cold, though the temperature barely registered. All he felt was her body as he cupped his hands under her arms and pushed her upward. Please, God, please, God, please, God, he repeated to himself as they broke the surface.

  And the Lord must have heard him, because He gave Aden the strength to push Christina out of the water and onto the ice. Then the Lord gave Aden the strength to pull himself out, using an overhanging branch for support. A branch that he hadn’t noticed before.

  Seconds later, they were on the bank and he was throwing his blessedly dry coat over her body and breathing life into her mouth.

  Wonder of wonders, she finally gasped, inhaled, coughed, and then brought up what had to be a quart of pond water. And her eyes opened. “A—”

  “Don’t talk.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Shh,” he added as he yanked off both their skates, shrugged her into his coat, picked her up, and ran to her house. The whole time praying like he never had before.

  “Please, please, please,” he murmured over and over again as he ran barefoot through the frozen fields, across the front yard, and up the front walkway to her house. Her parents must have seen him coming because they were already running to meet him, taking her from his arms and rushing her upstairs to a hot bath.

  The moment she was out of sight, he knelt on their spotless kitchen floor and prayed. He prayed until his voice was hoarse and his throat was sore. Until Mrs. Kempf came downstairs and announced that Christina was going to be just fine, but that he needed to change out of his wet clothes right quick or he was going to get sick.

  Her warnings hardly mattered to him, however.

  His prayers had already been answered.

  chapter one

  January third was, without a doubt, his least favorite day of the year.

  For the last ten years, Aden Reese braced himself before he walked downstairs. Sometimes, he had to stop halfway down, take a few deep breaths, and remind himself that the family meant well. Then he would finally school his features into a twisted combination of pleasure and surprise when he approached the family gathered around the table.

  This year, unfortunately, was no different.

  “Aden, at last you are here!” Martha Kempf exclaimed as she rushed to his side and promptly threw her arms around him. “We were beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come downstairs.”

  After the slightest hesitation, he hugged his adoptive mother back and forced himself to smile. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m a lazybones today.”

  Martha patted his cheek. “Today is your day, Aden. You can be anything you want,” she added as she pulled out his chair. “Now, sit.”

  As he sat, he smiled at the family surrounding him. Joe, his adoptive father, looked right back, his eyes moist. Just as they always did on this day.

  Beside Joe, twelve-year-
old Leanna looked at him in that bashful way she always did. Treva gazed with her usual somber expression. The boys, Nate and Henry, eyed him with a combination of respect and awe.

  And Christina? Only Christina looked a bit amused. As if she were the only one who had the slightest inkling that he hated being the reason for so much fuss.

  In the middle of the table lay all his favorites—sausage and bacon, scrambled eggs and waffles. A pecan coffee cake. Orange slush and canned peaches. It went without saying that Martha and the girls had been up for hours preparing the feast.

  The lump that was lodged in his throat now threatened to choke him.

  Because they were all waiting, he said the same thing he always did every January third. “Danke for this fine meal. But, truly, there was no need to go to such fuss.”

  “Of course there is,” Martha said. “Today marks the day you saved Christina’s life. We will always, always be thankful for your bravery, Aden.”

  Joe nodded. “Always. Now, let’s give our thanks and eat.”

  Aden closed his eyes and tried to simply concentrate on giving his thanks to God. And thanking the hands who had created the bounty. But all he could think about was how thankful he was that everyone had stopped staring at him.

  Next, serving dishes were passed around, each one to him first. Each time, he took his portion, and then passed the serving dishes along to Christina. More than once, their fingertips brushed against each other. More than once, she blushed before quickly looking away.

  Little by little, conversation began. Joe talked with Nate and Henry about jobs he wanted them to do at the farm. Martha cautioned Leanna not to be late for school.

  Christina asked Treva about her new job at the fabric store in the Alpine Village shops.

  At last the meal was over. After thanking everyone again, Aden was more than ready to escape the house and drive his buggy to the livery in Sugarcreek. From there, he would take a van to his new job at the hospital.

  “Aden, I know you’re short on time, but could ya still take Christina into work?”

  “Of course.”

  Christina met his gaze for the briefest of seconds before speaking. “I’ll be ready in five minutes, Aden. All I have to do is put my lunch together. And yours, too, of course.”

  He felt his cheeks heat. He hated all these traditions! “I can make my own lunch, Christina.”

  “I don’t mind. I promise, it’s almost ready.”

  “Take your time, then. I’m in no great hurry.”

  “We made you a special lunch today,” Treva told him with a wide grin. She had her father’s dark brown eyes, and they looked as full of mischief as always. “We even put in three brownies.”

  He bowed slightly. “I will enjoy them verra much.” And though the chocolate-caramel concoctions would likely taste like sandpaper in his mouth, he knew he’d never tell them differently.

  But he did need a breather. Gazing over Treva’s head, he said, “Christina, just come out whenever you are ready. I’m going to go hitch the buggy.”

  Two minutes later, with his wool coat thrown over his shoulder, he escaped to the barn.

  When he was completely alone, his footsteps slowed and he forced himself to remember the day of her skating accident. It was truly one of the worst days of his life.

  He still acutely remembered his panic. The fear that had overcome him for days and had interrupted his sleep for months—he’d been so afraid he would lose her forever. But overriding it all was his extreme sense of guilt. A better friend would have looked out for her more closely. Would’ve inspected the ice before letting her race away.

  A better man would have admitted that he should never be praised for that day. A better man would have never accepted a room in their loving household.

  Unfortunately, he’d always found it easier to keep silent instead of refuting their belief in him. And he definitely never allowed them to guess his deepest, darkest secret. After ten years living as her sibling, he still was in love with Christina Kempf.

  There Aden was, standing beside the buggy, lost in thought and looking as handsome as ever. Since he still hadn’t noticed her, Christina took a moment to stare and let herself have a little moment to hope and dream. To imagine that he was her beau. To pretend that he was waiting for her because he couldn’t stay away.

  Instead of waiting for her because her mother had asked him to.

  Then, as he blinked and focused on her, she rushed forward, taking care to keep her voice easy and breezy. Carefree. “I’m so sorry. It took me a little longer than I expected to get my things together.”

  “There’s no reason to apologize. See, I’m only now hitching up the buggy.”

  “My, you really are moving slowly today,” she teased. “Perhaps Mamm is right. Maybe we do need to make January third your own special holiday.”

  His mouth tightened. “If we could take this day off the calendar forever, I’d be grateful.”

  She knew how he felt. Though no one suspected, she still dreamed about the accident at least once a week. It was always the same nightmare. She’d relive the incident, hearing again the crack of the ice under her feet, feel the painful rush of icy water on her skin, followed by the burst of panic when she couldn’t breathe.

  Then she would jerk awake in a cold sweat. Her heart would be pounding and she’d be gasping for air.

  And then it would take at least another hour for her to calm down enough to drift back into sleep.

  What her parents seemed to forget was that the skating accident was all her fault. She’d had a terrible crush on Aden when she was twelve and was constantly doing everything she could to try to impress him. That day, it had included skating as fast as she could across the pond. If she had been looking at the ice instead of imagining him gazing at her in admiration, she would have realized that the ice had begun to crack.

  If she’d been smarter, she would have saved them both a lot of trouble and he never would have almost died from a terrible case of pneumonia.

  Looking back on those days, she ached to rewrite history. Without a doubt, she had embarrassed them both multiple times a week with her puppy love. After all, who would ever take a young girl’s infatuation seriously?

  “Maisey’s hitched. Are you ready to go?”

  “But of course.” Without waiting for his help, she climbed into the buggy and scooted right next to him, positioning her tote bag as she did.

  When the skirts of her light green wool dress brushed against his leg, he stiffened before scooting another inch or two to his left. “So, what are your plans for the day?” he asked as he jiggled the reins and encouraged Maisey to begin her trot down the driveway.

  “The usual things, I suppose. I’ll work in the kitchen at the inn.”

  His lips thinned. “Are those ladies letting you do more than wash dishes yet?”

  “Sometimes,” she said as he directed his horse to turn left and they began the fifteen-minute journey to her job at the Sugarcreek Inn.

  “It’s not right, the way they have you standing at the sink from the time you get there until the moment you leave.”

  “I’m the youngest and the newest employee. You know how it goes, Aden. Besides, Marla let me help her make rolls the other day.”

  “Do you want me to talk to them? You know, remind them that you were hired to cook and serve, not just be a dishwasher?”

  “Definitely not!”

  “You sure? I don’t mind.”

  “Positive. Besides, Mrs. Kent said that she’s going to hire a new girl to wash dishes now that Miriam’s left. I think that was her way of telling me that I’m getting a promotion of sorts.”

  “Gut.”

  As they got closer to the Sugarcreek Inn, the traffic around them got a bit heavier. Christina kept silent, knowing Aden needed to keep his attention on the vehicles trying to pass them. Maisey was a calm horse, to be sure. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have moments of skittishness.

  At long last Ad
en pulled into the Sugarcreek Inn’s parking lot. After guiding Maisey to one of the hitching posts at the back of the lot, he hopped out.

  Christina knew by now that he would take it as a personal offense if she merely climbed down from the buggy and went on her way. For some reason known only to him, Aden always liked to help her down.

  “What time do you get off today?” he asked when he appeared at her side.

  “Four o’clock.”

  “Do you need a ride?”

  “I’m not sure. Probably Mrs. Kent or Ruth can take me home. I’ll ask them,” she answered as she slipped her right hand in his while his right curved around her waist. For the briefest of moments, they were as close as they’d ever been. Just long enough for Christina to smell the soap on his skin and look into his caramel-colored eyes.

  Then all too soon she was standing firmly on the ground and Aden was stepping away.

  “I’ll call the restaurant around two o’clock to make sure you have a ride,” he said.

  She didn’t dare tease him about this. He took her safety very seriously. “All right. I’ll know who will be taking me home by then.”

  “Gut.”

  He had just turned around, and when she knew she couldn’t let another moment go by without saying something, she added, “Aden, even though you don’t like celebrating today, I’m grateful for it. I will always be grateful for you jumping in the pond and pulling me out. For saving my life.”

  A myriad of expressions crossed his features—pain, remembered fear, embarrassment. She knew each one by heart because she’d felt the same things.

  But then he took her hand in his, curved both of his around it, and pressed. “It was a life worth saving. I, too, will always be thankful for that day, Christy. Always.”

  Then with his cheeks a brilliant red, he turned around as she slowly walked into the restaurant.

  She had a new tingle on her skin. After ten years, she’d never given up on the thought that Aden might someday be hers. Every time she was sure that there was no chance of them having a future, something like this would happen, making her heart soar all over again.

  But of course, she knew better than to do anything to encourage him. The last thing in the world she wanted was to embarrass them both.