Excerpt from An Amish Christmas Match
Phoebe’s irritation faded. Mamm might think of her as a kinner, but she was patient and loving still. “Danke, but that won’t be necessary. I have someone here who will write it down for me. His name is Seth Beiler and I’m going to give him the phone now so you can speak directly to him.” And with that she passed the receiver to Seth.
As soon as Seth began speaking to her mamm Phoebe realized she should have swapped places with him and stepped outside the shanty, no matter how cold and windy it was. With him drawing closer to be able to hear her mamm and write the information down, the shanty quickly felt crowded. They weren’t touching exactly, but his presence seemed to fill the small space and she had nowhere to go.
She was surrounded by the scent of wood and stain and him, by the sound of his rich voice, by the sight of his strong hands flowing fluidly across the paper as he wrote down the addresses. Where the shanty had felt cold a moment ago, Phoebe now found it almost uncomfortably warm. She had to fight to control her breathing, to not let it turn into gasps.
These feelings were new, unexpected, unsettling. What was wrong with her?
Seth finally turned back to her and held the receiver out. “I have all the information written down. Your mamm would like to speak to you again.”
It took Phoebe a moment to react, then she quickly nodded and accepted the handset, fumbling it a moment before recovering. To her relief Seth stepped back and gave her some space. But she found she now missed his presence.
The cold air cleared her head, and she focused on the telephone. “Hello.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Seth walk off. No doubt he was in a hurry to get back to work. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed too much out of the ordinary in her reaction.
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Seth left her to say her goodbyes and headed back to his workshop. He’d wait to address her Christmas cards for her when he went back to the house for lunch.
Right now he needed to put some distance between them.
There’d been a moment back there in the shanty when he’d felt…something. He wasn’t ready to put a name to it yet. The hitch in Phoebe’s breathing hadn’t helped things either.
But now that he’d stepped away, had had the blast of cold wind to clear his senses, he realized it had been no more than the unexpected intimacy of that small shanty. It had been inappropriate of him to step in so close and he wouldn’t make such a mistake again.
Phoebe was under his care while she was here. As he’d told Levi, she was a guest of Edna’s and her eldre had entrusted her to his care. While she was here, she was a member of his household and should be treated as such.
With that bracing thought, he had himself back under control and continued on to his workshop.
But a niggling voice in his head said he wasn’t as in control as he was telling himself he was.
View The Beilers of Sweetbrier Creek Series Books