The Christmas Cat

By Amy Clipston

Emma Bontrager is spending her first Christmas alone after her husband of 45 years, Henry, passed away in July. Although the Amish don’t normally allow animals in their homes, a big, fat, orange barn cat keeps coming into Emma’s house. She shoos the cat away, but it continues to appear in her house, settling on Henry’s favorite wingchair. But the cat isn’t the only Christmas visitor: a group of young people help bring the Christmas spirit to Emma, reminding her that love and hope abide.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Sep 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9780718027186

Amy Clipston

Amy Clipston is an award-winning bestselling author and has been writing for as long as she can remember. She's sold more than one million books, and her fiction writing "career" began in elementary school when she and a close friend wrote and shared silly stories. She has a degree in communications from Virginia Wesleyan University and is a member of the Authors Guild, American Christian Fiction Writers, and Romance Writers of America. Amy works full-time for the City of Charlotte, NC, and lives in North Carolina with her husband, two sons, mother, and four spoiled rotten cats. Visit her online at AmyClipston.com; Facebook: @AmyClipstonBooks; Twitter: @AmyClipston; Instagram: @amy_clipston; BookBub: @AmyClipston.

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Copyright

The Christmas Cat

© 2017 by Amy Clipston

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the priorwritten permission of the publisher.

Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.

Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [e-mail].

Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.® And from the King James Version. Public domain.

Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

Epub Edition July 2017 ISBN 9780718027186

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

CIP data available upon request.

Printed in the United States of America

17 18 19 20 21 LSC 5 4 3 2 1

Contents

Copyright

Glossary

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Discussion Questions

Acknowledgments

An excerpt from Winter Kisses

About the Author

For my loving (and purring) herd of editors—Jet, Lily, and Rico

And in loving memory of my sweet editor

Molly. We miss you every day!

Glossary

ach: oh

appeditlich: delicious

Ausbund: hymn book used in the Amish congregation

bedauerlich: sad

boppli: baby

bu: boy

buwe: boys

Christenpflict: Amish prayer book

daadi: grandpa

daadihaus: grandparents’ house

danki: thank you

dat: dad

Englisch: English, non-Amish

fraa: wife

Frehlicher Grischtdaag: Merry Christmas

freind: friend

freinden: friends

froh: happy

gegisch: silly

gern gschehne: you’re welcome

gut: good

gut nacht: good night

haus: house

Ich liebe dich: I love you

kaffi: coffee

kichli: cookie

kichlin: cookies

liewe: love

maed: young women, girls

maedel: young woman

mamm: mom

mammi: grandma

mei: my

naerfich: nervous

narrisch: crazy

nee: no

schee: pretty

schmaert: smart

schtupp: family room

schweschder: sister

Was iss letz?: What’s wrong?

Wie geht’s: How do you do? or Good day!

wunderbaar: wonderful

ya: yes

Chapter 1

A cat was sitting on her back porch.

Emma Bontrager balanced her grocery bag and a stack of mail in one hand and rubbed her tired eyes. Then she looked at the porch again. Yes, there was definitely a cat there.

Not just any cat, but a rotund orange tabby. And he—weren’t most cats that large male?—seemed quite comfortable as he lifted one of his paws and licked it in the crisp late afternoon. In fact, did he look as though he’d been patiently awaiting her return?

No. Of course not.

Emma pursed her lips and studied the animal. Though he wore no collar, he looked well fed, as though he’d never had to make his own way in the world. Had someone dropped him off in the country because they didn’t want him anymore? She’d heard of that happening.

Well, no matter. He didn’t belong on the back porch of her house. Somebody else would have to take care of him. He’d probably try one of her neighbors next, someone who’d see to him.

As Emma’s sore knees carried her up the back steps of her two-story white clapboard house, she was careful not to slip on the slick wood. A layer of ice had formed over already-packed snow. She should have shoveled the snow as soon as it fell, but her aching back had convinced her to dismiss the idea. And she should have bought another bag of salt to melt the ice, but she’d forgotten to put it on her list.

The fact was, if she hadn’t needed a few food supplies, she wouldn’t have ventured out at all today except to care for her mare. Her horse was the only animal left on this small farm. She didn’t even keep chickens anymore.

Shoo! Shoo! she hissed, waving the envelopes at the cat. Go on. Git!

The cat blinked at her and then lazily sauntered down the steps toward the rock driveway, his belly swinging with the rhythm of his gait.

Something wet slid down Emma’s nose, and she wiped it away. Glancing up, she blinked as snow flurries floated from the sky.

"Ach, nee, she whispered, shaking her head. We don’t need more snow."

The air suddenly felt colder as snowflakes peppered her hands and her coat. She shivered.

Emma pushed open the storm door, entered the mudroom, and then closed the heavy wooden door behind her. The warmth of the house began to cover her like a soft blanket. She removed her boots and hung up her coat and purse on pegs, then stepped into her spacious kitchen, placed the grocery bag and stack of mail from the last two days on the counter, and tended to the coal stove in one corner.

She knew what most of the envelopes held before she even opened them—Christmas cards. But she couldn’t bring herself to read thoughtful Christmas wishes from members of her community and friends who had moved away. While they all meant well, it couldn’t possibly be a merry Christmas without Henry.

With a sigh, she left the unopened cards on the counter and looked around the kitchen. It was Christmas Eve, and the house was too quiet. For the first time since this farmhouse had become her home, Emma hadn’t bothered to decorate with greenery. She hadn’t purchased a special candle for her shelf next to the kitchen window. And she hadn’t baked cookies or bought any gifts.

She stared at the grocery bag. Every Christmas Eve since she and Henry married forty-five years ago, Emma had made him cherry bars. Inside were the ingredients she’d purchased to make them once more, and beside the bag was her favorite cookbook with the precious recipe inside.

But this was her first Christmas without Henry. He wouldn’t be here to eat the special treat. Tears blurred her vision. She’d purchased the ingredients on impulse, hoping baking the bars would improve her mood. But who would eat them all?

Emma bit her lower lip as she picked up a dish towel. Making the bars was better than sitting around and feeling sorry for herself. It would not only give her something to do but fill the house with the delicious aroma she’d looked forward to every year. She’d worry about what to do with all the cherry bars later.