by Kelly Long
“It’s the same for me, sweet Beth,” he said softly, and she met his eyes without thinking.
“Wh–what?”
“Seeing your body—I like to . . . imagine what lies beneath the apron, the dress, the shift. . . .”
Beth felt her mouth form a soft “O” of surprise, but, at the same time, she also knew a flame of response deep in her belly. But she was saved from making any response when Second John suddenly broke free and jumped from the tub to begin to shake as only a wet dog drenched in tomatoes can....
* * *
Ransom didn’t miss the shy lift, then downward sweep of her honey-colored lashes, even as he pulled her, laughing, to her feet. He forgot about where they were and bent forward to kiss her with slow, sultry sips of her sweet lips. He let his tongue do a wet, languid dance with hers and his hands moved of their own accord to lightly skim her shoulders, then slide to her lower back, pulling her close.
“Ach, Beth . . . I want . . . I mean, I . . .”
“I–I think I want too . . .” Her soft admission set off fireworks behind his eyes, and the summer sun seemed to burn with an intensity beyond hot. I can’t remember feeling like this with Barbara. . . . The thought both spurred him on and reminded him that he was risking a young girl’s purity.... No matter how much she wants . . .
Ransom came back to his senses in time to hear a wagon making its way down the dirt road near the Mast cabin. He hastily straightened and pulled Beth behind him as Second John began to bark and wriggle in welcome.
“Whoo-ee, big bruder!” Abel called from the high seat. “You stink.”
“Not a way to approach a lady, Abel,” Ransom drawled with good humor. He realized that his mamm and Aenti Ruth must have gotten tired of waiting for him to find the dog and had kumme searching themselves.
“I’d best geh and change,” Beth said, easing away from him.
“Don’t let that sweet maedel geh just yet, Ransom,” Aenti Ruth hollered from the back of the wagon. “Not until she’s opened the gift I have for her.”
Ransom now recalled the brown-paper-wrapped package Abel handed down to him, and he held it out to Beth.
“Danki.” Beth smiled, charming despite the splat of tomato juice on her right cheek. “Should I open it?”
Ransom saw Aenti Ruth wave a negligent hand. “You’re welcome, child, but open it up inside when you’ve finished cleaning up. We’ll wait here to take you to the frolic, and Ransom can get his shirt back on properly.”
Ransom smiled good-naturedly, then walked Beth to the porch and grabbed up his shirt. He couldn’t resist studying the movement of her curved hips as she walked to the front door, then reminded himself that his family was watching him and he turned to finish the job of cleaning the young pup.
* * *
Beth hugged the gift to her chest and hurriedly climbed with it up to her room. Thumbelina stretched on her bed, raising a languid paw in greeting. Beth laughed gaily, then hurried to strip off her clothes and wash with the bowl, pitcher, and lavender soap on her dresser. She knew her blueberry dress was beyond repair and thought with regret that she’d have to wear something else.
She shimmied into a light shift, then looked at the few dresses hung on the wall pegs and sighed. Everything looked like what it was—a dress she worked in or wore to take care of the sheep. A rattling noise made her look down at the bed to see Thumbelina scratching at the wrapping of Aenti Ruth’s gift.
Beth gently took the package from her friend and opened it with a thrill of excitement. She loved surprise presents and realized that it had been a long while since she’d opened a gift for herself. Her thoughts dwelt briefly on her fater and the small surprises he’d often given her. For the first time, the memory didn’t cause her pain or shame.
As the wrapping gave way, she stared down at the beautiful fabric inside, then held it up to examine it more closely. It was a simple yet charming dress of lavender material—the sort of light dress that suggested summer breezes and flowers and beauty. And, to her amazement, it seemed as though it was made to her size. She slipped the dress over her head and went to peer in the small looking glass above her dresser. The dress did fit and seemed to cast some pretty enchantment over her mousy hair and blue eyes, but she had little time to wonder how Aenti Ruth had known her size—Ransom was waiting outside with everyone else. She quickly donned a fresh apron and swept Thumbelina close for a brief hug before hurrying back down the loft ladder.
* * *
Ransom turned to the front porch of the Mast cabin when he heard the screen door squeak. He blinked as Beth stepped from the shadows into the light. She looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen her, like a lilac in full bloom. He’d loved the blueberry dress, but this new color was truly something special on her gentle curves.
He stepped closer to her, longing to simply sweep her up in his arms and carry her into the forest to kiss her senseless, but he knew he was being fanciful, so he reached out and took her small hand in his and led her to the wagon. He swung her up and into the hay-filled wagon bed, then quickly joined her and his mamm and Aenti Ruth and Abel.
He caught Beth’s whispered words of gratitude to Aenti Ruth, then watched the auld woman settle back, sure of a job well sewn.
Chapter Thirty-One
Beth helped Ransom’s mother arrange some cushions around Aenti Ruth’s foot. The auld woman was comfortably propped in a large chair in the shade of a great maple—close enough to the frolic to feel a part of the fun. Her animal family clustered close to her and Jack perched on her shoulder.
Beth bent to kiss Aenti Ruth’s cheek and whispered softly to her. “Danki again for the dress. I appreciate the gift so much.”
“Well, see that no one tells you that you look anything but your best in it, dear child. Because you’re as pretty as a flower in full bloom.”
Beth knew that the auld woman was referring to Viola, and Beth realized that such a comment from her stepmamm would not hold the power over her that it once had.
Beth nodded. “I promise. Would you like a glass of iced tea?”
“That would be fine, child.”
Beth slipped away to the large circular table that held glass gallon jars full of a variety of iced teas—honey mint, lavender sweet, licorice, and several more. She chose the honey mint for Aenti Ruth and was about to make her way back to the maple tree when she heard a male voice quite close to her.
“May I say you look beautiful without offending your Amish belief that vanity is a sin?”
Beth turned and flushed at Ryan Mason’s comment. She didn’t want his compliments—only Ransom’s sweet words—and she straightened her spine.
“Danki,” she said stiffly.
Ryan suddenly broke into a broad smile. “Ah, so it’s worked out God’s Way.”
She stared at him in surprise. “Wh–what do you mean?”
“Oh, about you and Ransom—and the truth, I would say.”
“I don’t know how you know,” she whispered. “But, jah, I think the truth is between us now.”
“That’s an excellent way to put things, Miss Mast.” He lifted a glass of tea from the table near her, then smiled and walked away.
Beth stared after him for a moment, aware that she felt a sense of hard-won peace when the Englischer was around, but in no way did it compare with the love she felt for Ransom. Love . . . It makes me feel like singing . . . like my heart is singing! She’d never thought she’d have someone in her life to love, someone she wanted to give to and spend time with.... All of the words of encouragement Ransom had spoken to her came rushing back into her mind, tumbling over one another like gentle waves of delight.
She handed Aenti Ruth her tea in a dreamy fashion that nearly caused her to step on Pig’s cage.
“Ach, I’m terribly sorry, Pig,” she apologized, bending to put her finger on the little guinea pig’s nose. Aenti Ruth settled once more into her cushions, and Beth stood by her side, wondering if she should stay until the auld woman do
zed.
“Run along, child,” Aenti Ruth said after a moment. “It’s only too soon that you become seventy from seventeen—though I know you’re twenty, of course.”
Beth bent to impulsively kiss Aenti Ruth’s wrinkled cheek and was gently waved away. “Geh and have fun, Beth.”
“Ach, I will, but I’ll kumme back to check on you.”
Beth turned in time to find Lucy coming gaily over to grab her hand and haul her along to one of the nearby cabins.
The work was done on the outside of the cabin and women were organizing the inside furniture with efficient grace. Lucy pulled her into the large master bedroom, then turned to Beth with sparkling eyes.
“I can see it on your face, Beth Mast. You’re glowing!” Lucy dropped her voice when another woman placed a small footstool beside the big, four-poster bed. “You’re in love,” she whispered.
Beth couldn’t contain a quiet laugh of joy as she began to tell Lucy all her friend wanted to know of her feelings for Ransom.
* * *
Ransom had to focus for the tenth time on the varnishing he was doing to a nearly finished oak bed. He’d spent the last half hour either looking for Beth or daydreaming about her. He’d never known his thoughts to be so tangled, and when Abel gave him a nudge on the shoulder, he turned in surprise.
“What do you need, little bruder?”
“Bishop Umble’s looking for you, but you’d better take that look off your face before you meet with him.”
“Hmmm?”
Ransom heard his brother give a mock groan as the buwe turned away, only to be replaced by the bishop, heartily calling his name.
“Ransom! There you be . . . I’d like to talk with you a bit.”
Ransom cleared his throat and laid down the varnish brush carefully. “Jah, Bishop? What is it?”
Bishop Umble’s blue eyes sparked both with wisdom and an odd touch of amusement. “I’d like to have a talk with you about when you’d like us to start preparing for the wedding. You know, the feast is the biggest part, really, and—”
“Wait? What? Whose wedding?”
Bishop Umble clapped him on the shoulder. “You really are comedic, sohn. Whose wedding? Why, yours and dear Beth Mast’s.”
Ransom swallowed, then found himself nodding in agreement as his heart filled with exhilaration. A wedding . . . with Beth? We haven’t even courted properly, but maybe we could do that after we wed. . . . His thoughts wrangled round themselves until he finally found the words to speak. “Suppose she won’t have me?”
The bishop smiled. “Do you think, buwe, that that’s any way to trust in Derr Herr . . . and His Truth?”
“Nee,” Ransom said seriously. “I suppose it’s not.”
“Gut! Then let’s geh judge the pies with Ryan Mason, who’s leaving Ice Mountain tomorrow, by the way. I’d say the buwe has gotten about all he can in understanding our people and will make a natural keeper of the Ice Mine shop. And I’ve tried to help him as much as I can with his life in student ministry.”
“But tomorrow? I didn’t expect that he’d geh straight off. . . .”
“You’ve grown to appreciate the Englischer, jah?”
“He’s given me a great gift,” Ransom said slowly, meeting the bishop’s kind eyes. “I need to thank him.”
“Then do that, sohn. Right after we judge the pies and right after you ask Beth to marry you.”
“Right . . . right after.”
* * *
Beth had helped paint the walls of one of the cabins’ kitchens a tempered light blue, then she’d moved on to place bright red geraniums in coffee cans on the windowsills. The smell of fresh wood shavings and the general bustle of activity that hummed around her made her feel happy and she couldn’t help looking here and there for Ransom as she worked.
She hadn’t seen Viola, for which she was thankful, and she’d received many an approving glance from the women of the community. She was just ready to dust the benches of a large table when one of Olivia Lott’s young dochders came and asked her if she would pick flowers with her to help decorate the dollhaus that she and Ransom had given to the Lotts that morning. Olivia had cried in gratitude while the children were ecstatic—making all the work on the toy more than worthwhile.
Now, Beth decided that occupying the little maedel with flower hunting a bit would be both helpful and fun, so she took the child’s hand and set off with her into the nearby woods to find wildflowers. Soon, they had collected delicate blossoms of pink and yellow, light blue and white Queen Anne’s lace. They were making their way deeper into the forest, following the lure of some lady’s slipper when Beth suddenly caught the child’s hand as a chill went down her spine. She might have been mistaken at the noise, but then it came again, and Beth cast worried eyes over the forest floor. The little girl broke from her grasp to grab at the bright yellow flower when Beth saw a large timber rattler coiled in strike position. She pulled the child to safety only to feel the primeval and painful bite of the snake on her arm....
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ransom took a bite of the neatly sliced peach pie and decided it was a shade too dry when he mentally compared it to Beth’s pies, but he kept smiling and moved on to the next in the fine array of desserts the women of Ice Mountain had created. He, Bishop Umble, and Ryan Mason were the judges of the day, and Ransom traded good-natured remarks with the crowd as well as his fellow judges. He came next to a rather too-browned pie with a sadly shaped dough heart in the middle and something went off in his mind that he felt he should remember about this particular pie, but it eluded him. He lifted the pie a bit, intent on giving it a fair chance when the hum of conversation was broken by a child’s piercing screams.
Ransom recognized the young daughter of Olivia Lott and felt a strange dread overtake him. He scanned the people gathered but didn’t see a lavender dress like Beth’s. He put down the pie without looking at the table and absently heard it fall to the ground with a dull thud. Then he moved through the crowd and knelt by the sobbing little maedel as she wailed in her mother’s arms.
“It’s Beth, Ransom,” Olivia Lott said worriedly. “I saw them go off into the woods about half an hour ago.”
Ransom got to his feet and patted her shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” he muttered, then headed for the forest, still unsure of what he would find....
* * *
Beth watched the large rattler slither off into a den of nearby rocks. Once the snake was gone, she got to her knees and then lay down on the ground, the bite on her arm burning terribly. She stared up at the blue sky, visible between the tall trees, and tried to slow her breathing. She knew that the more frightened she became, the more quickly the venom would go to her heart. She prayed as the moments slipped by, wondering if she were to die without sharing with Ransom how very much she loved him. Her mind drifted as she felt her pulse begin to thrum in her ears and then faintly, as if on the edge of a dream, she heard Ransom roar her name....
* * *
Ransom saw Beth lying on the light brown pine needles of the forest floor and rushed to her side. She looked pale, and he immediately slid his fingers to her throat to feel her pulse. She was muttering and he caught the word “snake,” and then he began to search her arms and legs for the bite mark he knew would be there. He saw the reddish puncture wounds on her right inner arm, just above her wrist, and saw the diameter of the bite marks. It was a big snake.... He was suddenly battling the same emotions he’d felt when Barbara was in the car crash and he’d been helpless to do anything.... But not now, not this time . . . He reached in his pocket for the small knife he always carried and began to pray.
With quick and careful strokes, he cut an “X” between and across the puncture marks and bent his head to suck the poison from the wound. He vaguely registered that she whimpered and he increased the draw of his mouth....
It’s all right, little hare.... It’s all right. Gott is with us and you’re going to be fine. Dear Gott, let her live . . .
He realized that someone touched his shoulder and heard a calm female voice from far away.
“Ransom.” It was Sarah Mast, the healer. “Stop now. You know you’re endangering your own life . . . Sei se gut, carry Beth back to my cabin. I have antivenom.”
He heard his own choked sob as he stopped abruptly, then swept Beth up into his arms and carried her easily from the shadows of the forest.
* * *
Beth was aware of the strangest sensations as she struggled through the fog in her mind that seemed to have no end. She felt cocooned in warmth but then was too hot, only to feel herself shake with chills that seemed to penetrate to her very bones. She thought she heard Viola call her name and struggled to respond, but then it didn’t seem important. She was looking for Ransom, desperate to get to him—but Ice Mountain was living up to its name and snow fell with a swirling force, creating steep hills that were too slippery for her to tread in her summer bare feet. Her arm burned terribly and she turned her head to see her daed standing beside her. He seemed a wonder and was smiling in translucent light. She wondered if she might geh to him—just for a moment....
* * *
“How many vials has that been?” Ransom asked Sarah in a low voice. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the sight of Beth, lying flushed and feverish in the healer’s bed.
“Five. I’m fortunate to have it on hand, though I think my herbal mixture is helping as well.”
“Jah,” Ransom whispered. “Pray Gott that it is.”
He reached down to run a finger across Beth’s cheek, wanting to see her beautiful eyes open and clear, her gentle smile, and to hear her soft words—balm to his heart.
“Ransom—Viola is waiting in the other room,” Sarah murmured. “She asks to see Beth.”
“She asks,” he said bitterly. “A first, I’m sure.”
“Anger will not help Beth,” Sarah said firmly. “I’ll tell Viola to kumme in.”
He moved around to the far side of the bed, his arm braced against the log wall, but not even its sturdiness seemed real to him.