An Amish Country Christmas by Naomi Charlotte; King Hubbard Read Free Book Online

for anything Bram cared to try. Mary chuckled quietly. “If you’re
     sure Nate and Martha won’t be thinking the same thing . . .”
    Bram’s breath shot out in a burst of vapor when he laughed. “My brother’s not lookin’
     to get serious any time soon, not after the way a Willow Ridge gal he was courtin’
     married another fella. He’ll probably head to your place directly, because his sleigh’s
     no warmer than this rig.”
    A few minutes later they turned onto the road that followed the crest of Nissley’s
     Ridge, and then Bram slowed his horse . . . reached down to unplug the colorful Christmas
     lights. Very quietly he told Felix where to turn in, and then steered them to the
     back side of the barn, away from the house. It appeared that all the lights were out
     in the Nissley house, so Mary relaxed. The way they told it, other Amish kids did
     this all the time, after all—and it was better this way than to be sneaking into her
     bedroom at home, or taking the chance that any of her family might walk in on them
     in the front room. Bram deftly helped her down, clutching her gloved hand in his as
     he ever so quietly slid the barn door to the side.
    A couple of horses nickered and the musky scents of hay and manure greeted them. “Better
     let our eyes adjust so we don’t step in anything,” Bram whispered as he closed the
     door. But instead of looking toward that back stall he’d mentioned, he pulled her
     close and lifted her chin. “Mary, kiss me now. Kiss—”
    Oh, but he surely did know how to do that. Mary’s breath left her as Bram’s lips found
     hers and lingered there. With his mouth gently holding her captive he removed his
     gloves and then her bonnet, to frame her face with his hands.
    “Ohhhh,” he murmured, “I’ve got to have more of this. I knew it would be gut between us. Come on.”
    Was the barn spinning, or was she dizzy from his kiss? Mary tiptoed along behind Bram,
     her heartbeat thundering in her ears as she stepped around a pile of horse apples.
     If she got any of that on her shoes, it would be no secret where she’d been. She still
     felt twitchy, thinking somebody might walk in on them . . .
    “Here we go. I set up a few bales for us to sit on,” he said as they entered the last
     stall. “And behind them is a nice clean nest to cuddle in. Let’s take off our coats.
     Plenty warm enough for that now.”
    He’d set this up before dinner, figuring to bring her here after their ride! Mary
     didn’t know whether to break away and put him in his place or to admire the way he’d
     been planning ahead . . . wanting to be alone with her. Her pulse pounded as she slipped
     her coat off and he draped it over the stall wall with his. His fedora and her bonnet
     landed on top, and then he smiled at her in the darkness. “This is more like it, ain’t
     so?”
    When Bram sat down on a bale, he kept hold of her hand. She landed beside him and
     before she could say anything his lips were on hers again . . . not that she wanted
     to protest. He pulled her closer and her arms slipped around his waist, and somehow
     they drifted backwards into that nest of hay.
    “Mary, think of it,” he said as he held her. “With the experience I’ve gotten—the
     money I’ve saved up—I could be runnin’ my own auction business. Meetin’ you makes
     me want to jump the fence so those gut things could happen sooner, and—”
    As he kissed her again, Mary’s thoughts raced. She pulled away to gaze at him in the
     darkness. Bram was so handsome with his black, layered waves framing his face, and
     his expression beat anything she’d ever seen with the fellows she’d dated in Willow
     Ridge. “But Bram, you heard what Mamma said about us girls joining the church and—”
    “It’s a wider world out there than you know, Mary,” he insisted. “If we get out and
     spread our wings now, before we’ve said our vows, we can always join later. Or if
     we don’t join, we