“So that’s where she went.” Britta glanced over her shoulder to make sure she was still alone in the stable. “Glad to hear it.”

They talked a while longer, but Britta could scarcely keep her mind off her sister’s errand—one she certainly hadn’t mentioned. And when Britta hung up the phone, she could hardly keep from grinning. It was practically a gift just knowing Susie had seen Obie again.

Not even a half hour later, Britta heard Susie returning in the family buggy. Eager to talk to her but also not wanting to let on that she knew where Susie had gone, Britta stood by the back door of the house, waiting while her sister unhitched Atta-Girl and then led the mare to the stable.

This being Christmas night, she wanted to spend time with Susie, since Mamma had already gone to her room to unwind from the busy day and be ready for visitors in the morning. Britta felt surprisingly alone and hoped Susie might oblige her.

“Your cheeks sure are red,” Britta said, offering to pour Susie some hot cocoa when she came into the kitchen.

“I’ll get warmed up right quick.” Susie made a beeline to the stove in the corner. There, she stood with her back to it. “Hazel says hullo, by the way.”

Britta smiled. “You didn’t go to see her, though, did ya?”

Shaking her head, Susie laughed. “I took a Christmas card over to Obie.”

“Handmade?” Britta pulled up Mamma’s rocking chair closer to the heat, enjoying this.

“Of course.” She described the pretty candle and the wreath around it that she’d drawn. “It was nothin’ like the card he gave me, but it was the best I could do.”

“I’m sure Obie was glad to receive anything from you.”

“Ain’t so sure ’bout that,” Susie surprised her by saying.

Britta frowned, hoping she might reveal more.

She looked down at her hands. “He didn’t have much time to visit. And I’m not sure we’ll get another chance, since his boss wants him back at work Thursday morning. So Obie’s makin’ the trip back in a few days.”

“But his boss is his uncle, ain’t so?”

Susie looked more miserable than Britta had ever seen her. “Jah,” she said. “Evidently Obie’s quite fond of his work . . . and of Sugar Valley, too.”

Britta wanted to say how sorry she was but sat there rocking, glad her sister had trusted her with this understandable sadness.

The following day, Polly and Henry and their children arrived midmorning for Second Christmas, bringing small wrapped presents for Mamma, Susie, and Britta, as well as oodles of food.

Little Joey was dressed in his black church outfit with its white long-sleeved shirt and narrow black suspenders. The toddler jabbered constantly as he followed Britta all around, even wanting to sit next to her at the table on his black booster seat.