by Kelly Long
Viola entered stiffly, looking first at him, then averting her gaze to study Beth. The aulder woman cleared her throat. “She—she looks asleep.”
“It’s the fever.”
“Jah, of course.” Viola’s voice cracked a bit, and Ransom gave her a speculative look.
“Do you pretend to care?”
“Of course I care.” Viola glared at him. “She is my stepdochder.”
Yeah, and your servant too.... He wanted to say it but couldn’t bring himself to speak such negative words over Beth while her life hung in the balance.
He watched Viola reach down to stroke one of Beth’s small hands. “My first husband . . . he . . . we had a dochder much like Beth. The child died from the grippe, hours after she’d taken ill. I always thought Gott gave back by allowing me to parent one such as Beth, but after her fater died . . . I . . . it seemed easier to lean on Beth than to think about how she might feel.”
Ransom sighed. He knew that such an admission was unlike Viola, but if he intended to marry Beth, he must find a way to honor Viola as well. But he was saved from giving a proper response when Beth stirred and opened her blue eyes, blinking up at him in owl-like fashion.
“I saw my fater.”
Ransom shook his head, feeling tears burn his eyes as he leaned close. “But now you’re here, sweet Beth. Here with me.”
He bent to kiss her brow and heard her soft whisper. “I love you, Ransom. I love you.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Beth’s recovery was slow and she chafed at the delay. But her arm was healing and Sarah had told her that Ransom’s decision to suck out the venom had been key to her survival.
Now she sat, strangely ensconced in Viola’s comfortable bed while her stepmamm had slept on the couch for the past nights and willingly brought Beth tea and iced limeade to drink. Beth had initially been bewildered by the change in Viola’s manner toward her, but her stepmamm had told her one evening that she’d been wrong. Beth still recalled the scene of that conversation as though looking through a cloudy glass. Viola had offered her iced tea, then pulled a chair close to the bed.
“Beth, I find that—in nearly losing you—I have been remiss in the way that I have treated you these many years since your fater’s death.”
“Uh . . . Viola. Danki, but you don’t have to . . . I mean . . .” She’d stopped in confusion, not wanting to turn aside the only words of peace Viola had offered her in years.
Her stepmamm had leaned close and Beth saw the tears that filled the faded green eyes. “Nee, Beth . . . sei se gut . . . hear what I say.”
Beth had nodded, and when Viola extended both her aged hands to her, Beth had taken them with feelings of thankfulness and joy.
* * *
“Well, I suppose I hate to say it, but I’ll miss you.” Ransom spoke the words with a smile as he extended a hand to Ryan Mason.
The Englischer adjusted his knapsack on his back and grinned as he accepted the handshake. “You know I’m only as far away as Coudersport, friend . . . and I’ll have the ice cream and gift shop up and running at the Ice Mine next spring. I’m glad everything’s worked out so well for you and Beth.”
“As to that, I owe you deep thanks and I’m extending an official invitation to our wedding, come this September.”
“You’ve asked her?”
Ransom gave him a sour look. “Put away the mind reading, Mason. Nee, I’m going to ask her tonight.”
“Ahhh.”
“Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know how she’ll answer.”
Ryan lifted a hand in farewell as he turned and started down the faint path through the tall timber. “Don’t worry, Ransom—you’re sure to take it like a man!”
“Danki!”
Ransom smiled at the youth pastor’s words but then drew a deep breath. What will Beth say? Perhaps it’s all too soon . . . But then he remembered their kisses and decided that soon might not be soon enough.
* * *
Rose and Viola had gone to bed, and Beth sat in the coolness of the nacht on the front porch rocking chair. She wore a light robe over a cotton shift and no shoes. Lightning bugs danced in fine array to some silent orchestral arrangement and she smiled at the summer beauty. But she could feel a slight chill in the air, a portent that autumn would soon come to Ice Mountain—a time for harvest and canning and pumpkins and snuggling under patchwork quilts at the end of the day.
She shivered, wondering what it might be like to bundle with Ransom, an intimate part of courting. Couples would share a bed with a bundling board set between them. Then they might talk or kiss, but nothing further might be done. Beth imagined, though, that Ransom would find a way to express his feelings for her and delighted in the thought.
“What are you thinking of, sweetheart?”
Beth nearly jumped out of her chair. “Ransom! You scared me to death!”
She felt him sit down at her feet in the faint light of the moon.
“Did I, now? But you still haven’t answered my question.”
Beth cleared her throat and was glad when her voice came out light and airy. “I was—admiring the lightning bugs. That’s all.”
Ransom pressed his shoulder against her knees and leaned in to rub his big hands tenderly up her legs. “I don’t believe you, little hare.”
“Why . . . not?” She swallowed against the warm wash of sensation his touch provoked.
“Because I can tell your breathing is a little too fast and I think you looked, shall we say, wistful, in the light of the moon.”
“Mmm . . . perhaps,” she admitted finally as she closed her eyes for a moment, imagining what it would be like to have him touch her thighs, but then he drew away abruptly. She was startled, then realized that he had only moved to change position and now knelt in front of her. Her hands reached out and felt the smooth brush of his hair, then traced his face, moving over brows and high cheekbones, the outline of his firm mouth. He turned his lips into the palm of her hand and she shivered in delight as the tip of his tongue teased her tender flesh.
He pulled away after a moment, though, and she fancied she could see the dark gleam of his eyes in the moonlight.
“Ach, sweet Beth . . . marry me, sei se gut,” he whispered, and she felt her heart leap with sudden joy. “Marry me.”
* * *
Whatever he’d planned on saying had been lost in a quick flood of emotion once he’d started to kiss her. Yet the words he spoke rang with truth in his heart. He paused, breathless, and waited in the shadows for her response.
“Ach, Ransom. Jah. Jah, I’ll marry you.” She melted into his arms and he sank back on his haunches and lifted her from the chair into his lap.
“Ach, Beth . . . You’re so soft and wonderful. I want . . . I think . . .”
“Don’t think, Ransom.”
He blinked at her words. She sounded confident and assured, so much more a woman than a girl, and he fell to kissing her once more.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Beth soon realized that although most of Ice Mountain was excited and happy for Ransom and herself, there was one person who most definitely was not. Her stepsister, Rose, held herself aloof from any overtures of kindness Beth tried to make, and even went so far as to ignore Viola’s changed attitude toward Beth.
Beth thought she understood—surely Rose was upset because she’d loved Ransom herself. She’d even said as much at breakfast when Beth had rather shyly announced her intention to marry Ransom.
“Marry? Ridiculous! Why, he’s making a gut joke of you, Beth! I’m surprised you took him seriously.”
Beth prayed to herself as she buttered a slice of toast. Finally, she spoke, her voice even and controlled. “Rose, you are beautiful and I’ve kumme to know that I–I am as well. Gott will surely bring you love in your life, perhaps sooner than—”
“Mamm,” Rose wailed. “Do you hear how she speaks to me? Make her stop!”
Beth was truly surprised when Viola gently told Rose to ei
ther be polite or leave the table.
“I am not going to have Beth stop, Rose,” Viola continued. “She has a right to speak. And I must say that if she is to be married, we will do our best to celebrate with a wedding feast unlike any other!”
Beth saw the stormy expression that marred her stepsister’s lovely face and just missed being splattered by hot coffee when Rose threw the remains of her cup and left the table in a high rage.
Viola cleared her throat as she reached to dab at the coffee with her cloth napkin. “I’ve spoiled the child. It’s my doing, but perhaps she will kumme to change her mind as time goes on.”
Beth nodded her assent but was deeply doubtful.
* * *
The days passed and Ice Mountain bid a fond farewell to Olivia Lott and her children. Ransom happened to be at the cabins when the Englischwoman was leaving and was surprised when she gave him a quick buss on the cheek. “Thank you, Ransom, for thinking of these cabins of rest. It’s made a huge difference in our lives. We’ve been able to heal here in a way we never could have in that other world. But we’re ready to go back. School and everything, you know.”
“We’ll all miss you.”
Olivia smiled. “That reminds me. . . . I have something for Beth. Please give it to her for me.”
Ransom accepted the small white box with pleasure. “I surely will.”
Olivia nodded her thanks, then turned to leave with the party of men and women who were escorting her down the mountain, while Ransom went back to collect the chisel he’d accidentally left at the cabins.
He found the tool and was about to leave the bright and airy front room when the cabin door eased open. He turned with a ready greeting on his lips only to frown as Rose slipped inside. He didn’t like the crafty smile she wore and he moved to brush past her, but she put a hand on his chest.
“Ach, Ransom, where are you going? I thought we might have some private time together to discuss our future.”
He looked down at her warily, not wanting to hurt one of Beth’s family but having no desire to give Rose any ideas.
“I’m on my way back to the mill, Rose,” he said politely. “What is it you want to say?”
She slipped her arms up around his shoulders and blinked at him with a simpering look. “I know it’s foolishness what Beth says about marrying you. I know it’s me that you want.” She stood on tiptoe in an obvious bid to kiss him, but he put her from him and shook his head.
“Rose, you must believe what I say—I love Beth.”
Her mouth curved in a sneer. “How could you love her? She’s fat! You are simply being kind.”
A rush of anger surged through him. “Gott hears your words,” he finally bit out. “And I must go.” He walked away from her, his back turned, but he heard her scream nonetheless.
“Fair enough, Ransom King! But there will be no wedding—mark my words!”
He blew out a breath of exasperation and kept walking, but some niggle of fear touched him before he dismissed it and went whistling back to the mill.
* * *
Petunia let out a sonorous snore and Aenti Ruth gently nudged the pig with her toe.
“All right, Petunia, we’re ready to set out.”
Beth giggled as the pig snorted to awareness. The rest of the animal family was gathered about as Aenti Ruth got to her feet. Her ankle was wrapped sturdily, and Sarah had pronounced it fit for walking with a stick, so long as the auld woman didn’t overdo.
But today, Aenti Ruth had insisted that she and Beth walk the short distance to Ben Kauffman’s store to purchase the fabric for Beth’s wedding dress.
“It’s my gift to you, child, and I’ll take pleasure in helping you make it up, if you’ll permit an auld woman’s sewing?”
Beth smiled as she managed the leashes of the pups while Jack balanced on her shoulder. “I’d love it, and I know it would be a help to Viola.... She’s insisting that I have a wedding quilting and the preparations are huge. I told her it really wasn’t necessary.”
“Your stepmamm is quite right,” Aenti Ruth said with a nod of her silver head. “You deserve a wedding with all of the celebration.”
Beth laughed a bit in appreciation. “I still can’t quite believe it. . . .” Though Ransom’s heated kisses tell me the truth of the matter . . .
“Well, believe it, child. It will be my true joy to welcome you into the family and, of course, your kinner in due time.”
Beth couldn’t contain the blush she knew stained her cheeks, and Aenti Ruth chortled. “That’s the blush of an innocent maid, and I’ll say no more as we’re here.”
Aenti Ruth managed the stairs with a minimum of fuss while Beth held open the big wooden door. They were greeted by a shower of good wishes that were as fragrant to Beth’s soul as the rich aroma of the store was to the senses. It was not often that an upcoming wedding was spoken about so openly, but with Beth’s recovery from the snakebite, there was extra reason for celebration.
“Gott bless you and Ransom both.” Beth received the embrace of an older girl with a smile, then tried to wrangle the pups through the busy store. When she and Aenti Ruth reached the back counter, Ben Kauffman himself came forward to wait on them.
“Now then, Beth Mast, what is it I might do for you?”
Beth was saved from replying when Aenti Ruth tapped on the gregarious store owner’s hand with the top of her walking stick. “Now, Benjamin, there’ll be no teasing of the maedel. It’s wedding dress fabric she wants and you know it well.”
Beth wanted to crawl under the counter but focused instead on the array of blue fabric that was promptly presented for inspection. She drew a deep breath and decided to enjoy the moment. “This one, I think.” She smiled.
“An excellent choice, my child,” Aenti Ruth approved. “It matches the blue of your eyes perfectly. Wrap it up, Benjamin, and I’ll be the one paying.”
“Ach, nee, Aenti Ruth. Viola has given me money and I’ve barely used any of it.”
“It’s my gift for the wedding.”
“Danki,” Beth whispered and bent close to kiss her wrinkled cheek.
* * *
Ransom slipped from the cabin into the dark and walked the distance to the Mast cabin. He didn’t want to bother Beth with the encounter he’d had with Rose that morning and was glad to see that only one lamp burned in the kitchen as he approached.
Beth sat, diligently sewing, the warmth of the light shining about her, and he felt his heart begin to pound in anticipation of touching her. He tapped lightly on the window and she looked up with a warm smile on her lips as she rose to let him in.
“Ach, little hare, you feel so gut,” he muttered as he pulled her close, letting his lips find the secret spot behind her shell-like ear that always made her shiver in delight.
But his body became more insistent and he finally pulled away with true regret. She gave him a delightful pout and he bent to whisper against her neck. “I think Viola would prefer not to have a pregnant bride.” He laughed when she slapped his upper arms in feigned anger.
“But perhaps I would prefer it,” she said softly, and he blinked in surprise.
“You never stop amazing me, sweet Beth. Now tell me what you are sewing with such diligence.”
She gave a sudden squeak and tried to turn him from the table, but he spun back around.
“Is it a surprise?”
“It’s my wedding dress, and I don’t think you should see it.”
“Whyever not?” he asked with a raised brow. “I think the superstition goes that I shouldn’t see you in it before our wedding day. Seeing it sitting on the table is perfectly innocent.”
He smiled as she considered. “Okay. I suppose you’re right.”
She led him to the kitchen table and he snuggled close to her as she slid in on the bench. He watched her small hands smooth the sky-blue fabric, then continued with her work. She handled the thread with precision and glanced up at him once with an obviously shy expression. He slid close
r and wrapped an arm around the sweet curve of her lower back.
“I–I’m just basting, you know.... Your Aenti Ruth wants to help on the, um, final sewing. . . .” Her voice came out in a confused whisper, as if she were having trouble concentrating.
“Go on,” he said softly, though his hand tingled and his heart pounded as he moved even closer to her.
She turned and looked at him helplessly. “Ransom—I . . .”
He kissed her slowly, as if he was savoring some warm, melting sweet, and she responded with tentative touches of her tongue to his. It took everything he had to control himself. He pulled away with abrupt force and got to his feet.
“What’s wrong?” Her lips were cherry red and slightly swollen, and he groaned aloud.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just think I need a bath.”
“A bath?”
He ignored her doubtful look. “Jah. In the creek.”
He left the room and was out the cabin door before she could reply.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The days passed and August’s heat gave way to the crimson shine of September as preparations for the wedding took on a fever pitch. A large quilting frame had been borrowed from the Loftus family and set up in the front room of the Mast cabin. And once wooden benches were added to all sides, there was barely enough room to walk around it, yet Aenti Ruth had agreed to leave only the dogs at home. Consequently, Petunia took up sprawling residence on the couch, next to Pig, and Jack cavorted about, scaring some of the more timid women present.
The quilt squares had been pieced together by Lucy, Mary Lyons, and Priscilla King, as well as some of the older girls from Jude Lyons’s class. Beth was truly amazed when she surveyed the wide quilt top stretched out on the wooden frame. Women had sent over quilt squares of intricate design and beauty. There was a chestnut tree near a bubbling stream, a rainbow at sunset, a squirrel playing in a pile of leaves, a detailed outline of Ice Mountain itself, and many more designs. Beth was amazed and thankful for each woman’s contribution as she surveyed the pristine top. Then she noticed a large pink pig halfway across the top, and as she peered closer, she realized it was surely a square from Aenti Ruth.