The Cousin (Doris's Christmas Story Book 1)

by Brenda Maxfield

  Chapter Eight

  The next day, Doris couldn’t stand the waiting a moment longer. Matthew hadn’t shown up, nor had he made any effort to communicate with her. If he had a letter for her, he was being downright rude.

  “I’m taking a walk,” she told her mother after she’d changed the sheets on all the beds.

  “What? Now?” Henrietta glanced through the kitchen window. “It’s snowing a bit. Too cold for a walk.”

  “You know I like the cold,” Doris insisted. “I won’t be long.”

  “Where are you going? Why don’t you take the pony cart?”

  “I’m taking a walk, Mamm. I thought I might stop by Aenti Verna’s.”

  Henrietta’s brow lifted. “Oh? I was thinking to visit her in a few days. Why not wait for me to go with you?”

  “Nee. I want to take a walk.” Doris’s worked to keep her voice calm and pleasant. Why in the world was her mother making such a fuss about her taking a walk?

  “It’s a fair spell to Verna’s place.”

  “It’s not that far. If I get cold, I’ll turn around and come back. I won’t be gone long.” She moved toward the washroom to grab her cape.

  Kara came into the kitchen. “Mamm, where’s the black embroidery thread? I’ve looked through the drawers. It’s gone.”

  “Nee, it ain’t gone. There was a gut bit left,” Henrietta said, picking up the dish towel to wipe her hands. “I put it right in the top drawer.”

  “Well, I didn’t see it.”

  “Oh, for goodness sakes,” Henrietta said, bustling from the room.

  Doris smiled. Thank you for the distraction, Kara, she thought. Within minutes, she was bundled up and out the door.

  Her mother was right. It was cold. The air pinched at her cheeks, and she felt her nose growing numb with it. Still, it was peaceful walking. The snow fluttered down lazily as if it had nothing at all to do, no tasks to accomplish, no rush. She smiled at such a thought and looked up at the gray sky. She was right to get outside. Already, she felt better. And if she were able to fetch Jordan’s letter from Matthew, the day would turn perfect.

  Jordan’s letter. If he’d even written one. No. She wouldn’t think like that. She would be positive. Her footsteps shuffled through the new snow, crunching on the ice below. The road was deserted; she met neither car nor buggy. It was as if she were the only person in the world right then. It was a strange sensation and one she didn’t feel often. Her people were used to being together, sometimes in tight quarters if the family was large. The Benders had twelve children. Twelve. Barbara Bender complained constantly about how she had to share her bedroom with four sisters.

  Doris heard a branch snap. She looked about and decided it must have fallen amidst the stand of trees coming up on her left. It certainly couldn’t have broken from the weight of the snow; it wasn’t that deep yet. But it was steadily falling—huge, lazy flakes that brushed against her face.

  By the time she got to Verna’s and Nathaniel’s place, she was ready to be inside again. She knocked once on the side door and let herself in.

  “Aenti?” she called. “You about?”

  Verna came bustling into the washroom. “Ach! Land’s sake, Doris. What are you doing out in this weather?” She craned her neck to peer through the window. “I didn’t hear your pony cart. Or did you bring the buggy?”

  “I walked.”

  “Walked? Whatever for?” she asked, tsk-ing her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

  “It’s right pretty outside.”

  “And right cold. Give me your cape and scarf, child. I’ll make us some tea.”

  “Sounds nice. Thank you.” Doris looked through into the kitchen. “How’s Nathaniel?”

  “He’s fine. Just fine. Doing a jigsaw puzzle in the front room.”

  “And Matthew?” she asked, praying he hadn’t gone anywhere.

  “Helping his dat. Why don’t you go on in? I’ll bring the tea when it’s ready.”

  “Thank you. I will.” She hurried through the kitchen and into the front room. Matthew immediately looked up. Pleasure flashed across his face, immediately replaced with a knowing look.

  “Hello, Doris,” he said, his voice even.

  “Doris, gut to see you. Sit down. Sit down,” Nathaniel said, patting a spot on the davenport beside him.

  “Did you come to work on the puzzle with us?” Matthew asked, and she heard the thinly veiled sarcasm in his voice.

  “How could I know you were working a puzzle?” she replied curtly. Her face heated with shame. How rude could she be?

  “True…” Matthew drawled, putting another piece of the puzzle in place.

  “Ach, you found the piece,” Nathaniel said, seemingly completely oblivious to the tension in the air.

  Doris inhaled deeply. What was happening? Why were she and Matthew so uncomfortable with one another? It had been odd the way they left each other the last time, but she thought that was temporary. Evidently, she was wrong. Something was bothering Matthew—something he hadn’t yet laid aside. Was he still worried for her?

  She needed to be nice if she expected him to keep doing this favor for her. But where was her letter? Was he keeping it from her on purpose? Had he decided that she was better off without it? Anger rumbled through her, but she had to force herself to bide her time. She could hardly blurt out her question with her uncle listening. But Matthew looked settled in. And from the scowl on his face, he wasn’t about to take her aside for a private conversation anytime soon.

  “Where’s Verna gotten off to?” Nathaniel asked. “Does she know you’re here?”

  “She does.” Doris smiled. “She’s making tea.”

  “Gut. I could use a cup.”

  Matthew remained silent, studying the puzzle pieces as if they held the secrets of the universe.

  “Come on, Doris. Try your hand at the puzzle. It’s a doozy, this one.” Nathaniel chuckled and then stood up and stretched. “I fancy a Christmas cookie or two. I think I’ll suggest it to Verna.” He chuckled again. “A whole plateful wouldn’t go amiss.”

  He wandered out of the room, and Doris was acutely aware of Matthew’s eyes on her. She stared up at him.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You came to get your letter,” he said.

  “Jah.” She leaned forward. “Where is it?”

  He took a moment before answering and she had to force herself to remain still. “I don’t have it.”

  “What?”

  “I said I don’t have it.”

  “What’d you do with it?”

  “I don’t have it because it never came.” His look seemed to challenge her, and she blinked under his scrutiny. Then she leaned back against the cushions. “But there has been plenty of time for him to answer me.”

  “That is true.” He kept staring at her.

  “So, what happened?” She frowned. “Do you think it got lost in the mail? You know how the mail increases during the Christmas season. Maybe, that’s why it’s taking so long.”

  “Or maybe he just didn’t write you back.”

  Her breath caught, and she clamped her mouth closed. Matthew had never used such a brusque tone with her before. What was happening to them? Why was he being so awful to her? And then it occurred to her that maybe something was going on in his life. When was the last time she’d asked him how he was doing? When was the last time she’d inquired after his doings?

  She was a horrible friend and a horrible cousin.

  “I’m sorry, Matthew,” she said quickly. “I never even greeted you properly.”

  His forehead creased, and he looked perplexed.

  “How are you?” she asked. “What’s been going on in your life?”

  In truth, she couldn’t imagine anything new going on in his life. Life in her district plodded on pretty much the same month in and month out—only changing with the seasons.

  “What do you mean?” he finally asked.

  “Well, I haven’t asked you how y
ou’re doing for a long time.”

  “How I’m doing?”

  “Jah.” She felt something from him then, and for a moment it felt very much like anger. But why should he be mad at her for simply asking how he was? Suddenly awkward, she fumbled for words. “I, uh, I thought that… Well, I just wanted to know if everything’s been going all right for you.”

  “And what could possibly be wrong?” he snapped, but then he relented. “I’m sorry. I’m just in a bad mood, I suppose. I’m sorry you didn’t get a letter, Doris. I know how much you wanted one.”

  But he didn’t sound sorry. Yet, there was a look of contrition in his eyes. She smiled at him. “It’s all right. It certainly isn’t your fault.”

  “Still…”

  She reached over and touched his hand, but he snatched it away, stunning them both.

  “Uh, sorry…” he said again. “I’m a bit jumpy.”

  “But why? What’s wrong?”

  He seemed to make a decision then. “I’m going to begin courting a girl, and I don’t know how she’ll respond.”

  Chapter Nine

  Matthew wanted to cut out his tongue. What in the world had made him say such a thing? He watched Doris’s eyes widen and her lips part. He stared at her mouth, wanting nothing more than to press his own lips to hers. To feel her melt beneath him.

  “Who?” she asked, pulling his gaze back to her eyes.

  “Uh, I’d rather not say right away.”

  She blinked and then put on a shaky smile. “Well, she’d be crazy not to welcome your suit. I-I think that’s awful gut news, Matthew.”

  Did she? Did she think it was good news?

  But he didn’t want her to think it was good news. He wanted her to be jealous, to talk him out of it, to show some sign of affection toward him.

  She reached out to touch him again, and this time he accepted her hand on his. “I’m happy for you, cousin,” she said, and he cringed at her words.

  “If I can help…” she went on, and then she laughed. “Ach, as if you need my help. You just have to show up, Matthew, that’s all. She’ll accept your suit, for sure and for certain.”

  He probed her eyes, searching for meaning beneath her words. Did she mean that she would accept his suit if it were offered? Would she, if she didn’t consider them cousins? Did she mean that she thought him appealing? That any girl would be happy to have him as her beau? Did she mean—

  He gulped, mortified at how out of control his mind was these days.

  “Thank you,” he uttered.

  “So, you aren’t going to tell me who it is?” she asked, her voice now teasing. “Come on, Matthew. You know who’s courting me.” She flinched the slightest bit when she said that, but then she smiled. “Tell me.”

  He shook his head. He wasn’t going to tell her. Goodness, but he had hardly decided it himself. Besides, he didn’t like this conversation. Not at all.

  “So, your family getting ready for Christmas?”

  She blanched at his abrupt change of subject, but she didn’t have a chance to respond because Nathaniel came back into the room, grinning.

  “Cookies?” he asked, holding out a plate brimming with cookies shaped like Christmas trees.

  “Sure,” Matthew said, glad for the interruption. He grabbed a cookie and took a huge bite.

  “All right, but I can’t stay long. Mamm wasn’t too excited about me taking a walk in this weather.”

  Nathaniel gazed out the window. “She was right, at that. Matthew, why don’t you hitch up the buggy and give Doris a ride home. I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

  Give Doris a ride home? And subject himself to more of her waxing on about Jordan? But Nathaniel was right, the weather was worsening, the snow thicker and the flakes smaller.

  “Nee, nee. That isn’t necessary,” Doris said. “I love walking in the snow.”

  “Then Matthew can walk you home,” Nathaniel said. “But you ain’t going alone.”

  “Onkel, I’m fine. Truly. In fact, I’ll be on my way now. I’ll just say gut-bye to Aenti…”

  “What?” Verna said, joining them with a tray of four steaming cups of tea. “You’re leaving? You haven’t even had your tea.”

  “The snow is coming down harder, so I think I’ll just get myself home. Thank you for the cookie.”

  “Ach, you can’t be going out in this,” Verna said, gazing out the window.

  “Matthew is taking her,” Nathaniel said, taking another bite of cookie.

  “Come on, Doris,” Matthew interjected. “It’s useless to fight it. I’ll walk you home.”

  “Take the buggy,” Verna said.

  “I’d like to walk,” Doris insisted. “And Matthew, you don’t have to walk with me.”

  “Jah, he does. Now, go on with you,” Nathaniel said, waving his arm in dismissal while grabbing another cookie with his free hand.

  “I don’t know if I like this…” Verna was saying to Nathaniel as Matthew shepherded Doris out of the room.

  Doris tugged on Matthew’s sleeve. “You really don’t have to take me. I’m perfectly capable of walking home by myself.”

  “Of course, you are,” he said. “But Mamm and Dat won’t let up, so we might as well accept it.”

  He blinked, realizing what that had sounded like. It had sounded like he didn’t want to escort her home. She was looking at him, her brown eyes huge and full of questions. He laughed nervously.

  “You sure you want to walk?” he said just to fill the silence with something.

  “Jah,” she said curtly, putting on her cape and wrapping her scarf around her neck. She hadn’t removed her shoes when she’d come in, so she was ready to go.

  He quickly went to the washroom and put on his coat, boots, and felt hat. She had followed him in, and her hand was on the side door’s knob. “Ready?” she asked.

  “Jah.”

  They went outside and the snow immediately covered her kapp. It would soak in quickly, and she’d be awful wet by the time they made it to her house.

  “We’re taking the buggy,” he decided.

  “But—”

  “Nee.” He shook his head. “I ain’t discussing it. Go on and get in. I’ll fetch Blackie.”

  “Matthew—”

  “I said, I ain’t discussing it.” He strode in front of her into the barn. He took Blackie from his stall and led him out to the buggy. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Doris had already climbed inside. Goodness, but she was stubborn, a fact which he’d always known, but had never bothered him as much as it did today.

  “Look!” Doris cried from inside. She was pointing out toward the road, and he saw with dismay that the mail truck had just stopped and put something in the mailbox and then driven off. Wouldn’t it be completely ironic if the mailman had delivered a letter from Jordan at that very moment? In truth, Matthew was glad every day when a letter didn’t materialize. He sighed and set to hitching Blackie up.

  Doris jumped out of the buggy and started running to the mailbox. He watched her, his heart falling steadily to his feet. Was she really that eager? That excited to get a letter that she couldn’t even wait a few minutes for them to drive to the end of the driveway?

  And what if Verna and Nathaniel were watching from the window? How odd would that be to see Doris flying down the driveway to fetch their mail? He was about to call out to her to stop when he thought again. If they were watching, Verna would put two and two together and figure out what was up. She’d tell her sister and then Doris would be stopped.

  Matthew would like that. He’d like this whole thing to go away.

  But it wouldn’t go away. Even if Henrietta discovered Doris’s latest plan, it wouldn’t go away.

  “Doris!” he called after her. “Stop! We’ll get it in a minute.”

  But she didn’t hear him, and he wasn’t about to run after her. That would only make things appear worse. So, he bit his lip and concentrated on getting Blackie hitched up.

  Chapter Ten<
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  Doris nearly slipped when she got close to the mailbox. She threw out her hands and recovered her balance as she nearly ran into the post. She grabbed it and caught her breath. Then she opened the small metal door of the mailbox and peered inside. There was one solitary envelope. She snatched it and turned it over to look at whom it was addressed to. She didn’t even need to see the name Matthew Wanner—she already recognized Jordan’s handwriting.

  She sucked in a breath, pressed the envelope to her chest, and breathed a prayer of thanks. Then she tore open the envelope. There was another envelope inside, this one with her name scrawled across it.

  Ignoring the snow that gathered on her lashes, she opened it and read.

  Dear Doris,

  I’m right glad you figured out a way for me to write to you. Thank your cousin for me.

  This letter won’t be long. I want to get it in the mail today. You asked me some questions, and I will answer them when I come home.

  Doris paused, slightly annoyed. Hadn’t she waited long enough for answers? She shook her head, and a small clump of snow fell from her kapp onto her shoulder. She continued reading.

  I do have gut news. I will likely get out in the next week. My folks will come for me. I don’t imagine I’ll get much of a welcome back from anyone in the district. I’m hoping I’ll get a welcome from you, though.

  I am glad that you’ve continued to write me. This might be my last letter as I hope to see you in person soon.

  Jordan

  Doris let out the breath she didn’t even realize she’d been holding. Next week. Jordan might be back home next week. Why, that was in plenty of time for Christmas.

  She heard Blackie’s clip clop and stepped back to give Matthew room to draw to a stop beside her. Once he did, she scrambled inside. He stared at the letter in her hands.

  “You heard from him then?”

  “I did,” she said, her voice full of animation. “He’s probably getting out next week.”

  Matthew gave a nod and focused back on the road, snapping the reins to get underway again. “I see.”