Love Inspired Historical November 2017 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

  He frowned. “I don’t want you to fall out there.”

  “It’s not icy. And the snow would be a soft place to land. I promise to hold on to your arm the whole way there.” And that wouldn’t be any hardship at all. His brawny arms were one of the things that made her feel the safest. As if, should he put his arms around her, she would be impervious to any harm or hurt.

  She studied her hands as warmth spread up her cheeks. Here she was, only days away from the birth of her first child, imagining what it would be like to be held safely in the arms of Oscar Rabb. Was this disloyal to Johann? Or unseemly?

  Without a doubt, she had loved her husband. When they were married, she’d never thought about another man like this, never wanted to. But Johann was dead. She missed him, and she knew she always would. But she was alive.

  “If you promise to take it slow, you can come with me.”

  She looked up, wondering what Oscar would think if he knew her thoughts. He’d probably be shocked and hustling to find somewhere else, anywhere else, to house the Amakers until they had to leave for Cincinnati.

  So she must never let on that she had a…tenderness…for him. Anyway, it was probably just that he was so steady and kind. Not like she was in love with him or anything. Grossmutter had warned her that pregnant women sometimes got emotional, thought silly thoughts. That’s all this was, a passing attraction. She and Oscar were friends. Just friends. And friends enjoyed each other’s company.

  “I’ll get my cloak.”

  He was at her elbow, helping her up, and she wished for a moment that she didn’t resemble a grain silo in roundness and proportions. She blew out a breath. “I once saw a picture of a walrus on the beach. That’s what I feel like these days.”

  Shaking his head, he put his hand to the small of her back to guide her to the door. “Why do women always think they look their worst when the opposite is true? If you ask me, there’s nothing prettier than a woman being just as God made her to be. You’re doing some important work there, housing Junior until he decides to make his appearance. Nothing unsightly about it.”

  She felt every finger of his touch, and his opinion was like balm on her chafed heart. His words would be mulled over in the coming days, she had a feeling.

  Bundled up, she and Liesl waited on the front porch for the sleigh. Last week when the snow had gotten deep, Oscar had taken the wagon box off the wheels and put it on sled runners. And at Inge’s request, he’d attached a string of bells to the horses’ harness. Now the bells chimed out merrily as he drew up to the house.

  Liesl hurried off the porch, and Oscar swung her up high, depositing her gently into the straw piled in the back of the wagon. Rolf barked and leaped aboard, tail wagging like a white-tipped black flag. Kate waited for Oscar to come to her, mindful of his strictures on this little jaunt.

  “Is it too cold for you girls?” He put his arm around her waist and took her hand in his other one.

  “No. We’re tough Minnesota women, aren’t we, Liesl?” Kate bragged. “We don’t get cold.”

  Oscar’s brows rose. “Really?”

  Liesl giggled and fended off a lick from Rolf. Soon they were on their way to a grove of pines along Milliken Creek where it ran through the pasture on the Amaker farm.

  “In the summer, when it gets really hot, the cattle come down here and stand in the water to cool off,” Kate remembered. “With all this snow, it’s hard to recall the hot days of summer.”

  “But in the summer, it seems to me I can recall every snowflake of a blizzard.” Oscar slapped the lines. “Probably because we’re tough Minnesotans, eh? We like to brag and complain about the ferocity of our winters, no matter the season.”

  They reached the pine grove, and Oscar led them into the trees, a handsaw over his shoulder and Kate’s arm tucked into the crook of his elbow. “How much will you need?”

  “Enough to hang in the window and decorate the sill. And maybe some to form a wreath for the front door. Liesl, would you like a wreath on the door?” Kate called ahead to the little girl, who was lifting her feet high and trying to navigate the drifts. Rolf ran and leaped and rolled in the snow, clearly joyous at being out with them.

  “Yes! Grossmutter would like that, wouldn’t she?” Liesl called back over her shoulder.

  Oscar wasted no time. He soon had an armful of fragrant branches. Long-needled white pine and the shorter, stubbier blue spruce. “You wait here while I load this in the wagon. I’ll be back for you.”

  He disappeared through the trees, and Kate bent and picked up a handful of snow. She put her fingers to her lips and motioned for Liesl to do the same. “We’ll ambush him when he comes back, right?” she whispered to the little girl.

  With a giggle, Liesl packed her own snowball and crouched behind a pine tree, eyes alight.

  The moment Oscar came into the small clearing, Liesl jumped out and let fly, her snowball arcing and falling well short. Kate’s was more accurate, and her missile exploded against his dark coat front.

  “Gotcha!”

  He froze, eyes wide, then a grin spread across his face. “So, you want to have a snowball fight, do you?” He leaned down and gathered a handful of snow, not packing it.

  Kate laughed, edging backward. “No, I just realized that I don’t, really.”

  “Me, either.” Liesl giggled and scrunched her shoulders. Rolf circled, barking and leaping, eager to join in.

  “You can’t change your mind now.” Oscar gently tossed his snow at his daughter, who dodged it easily. “There’s a price to be paid.”

  While he was distracted with Liesl, Kate packed another snowball, this one sailing forth and hitting him in the back. He whirled.

  “So, you’re a baseball player in disguise, are you?” He scooped up a huge armful of snow and shoveled it her way, sending a cascade of flakes showering over her, gentle but cold.

  “Brrr.” She brushed the snow off her face, laughing.

  “I thought a Minnesota girl like you didn’t get cold.” He stepped close and took the end of his muffler and wiped at the snow still clinging to her hair and cheeks. His breath plumed in a cloud, and she smelled the scent of sawdust and pine.

  This close, she could see greenish flecks in his brown eyes. His mouth curved into a smile, and his beard looked so soft she wanted to touch it to confirm her suspicions. She didn’t feel the cold at all. In fact, she was tingling and warm, her blood zipping along quickly.

  At that moment, a barking something hit the back of her legs and she cannoned into Oscar, tumbling to her knees in the snow, hands splayed to catch herself. She landed hard, jarring everything, and quickly rolled onto her side, stunned.

  Oscar had staggered back with a shout, then yelled, “Rolf, get out of here.” He was on his knees beside her, his face a mask of worry. “Kate, are you all right?”

  She took stock of herself, feeling the cold seeping through her cloak. Blinking, she studied the treetops and the bright, pale sky overhead, then took a deep breath, shaking a bit from the surprise of it all. Rolf’s big, furry face blotted out everything, his tongue lolling and swiping at her cheek.

  “Get back.” Oscar pushed the dog away.

  “Miss Kate?” Liesl squatted beside her. “Are you hurted?”

  “I’m fine, I think. Help me sit up.” She tried to brush the hair out of her eyes and only succeeded in dumping snow from her mittens onto her face.

  “No, lie there for a minute.” Oscar pushed the dog away again. “That was quite a tumble. When you’re ready, I’ll carry you back to the wagon and get you home.”

  She was a bit rattled, but nothing like it appeared he was. His hand shook as he rubbed it down his pale face.

  “I’m not hurt. I can get up.” She propped herself up on her elbows, but she would need help to get any farther, half-buried in the snow as
she was and on a slight slope.

  “You’ll do no such thing. Are you sure you’re not injured?” He reached out as if he wanted to touch her belly, but he pulled his hand back. “Liesl, go get into the wagon and stir up the straw nice and fluffy. Push aside the pine branches so there’s a place for her. I’m going to bring Miss Kate and lay her there.”

  “Really, Oscar, I don’t need to lie down in the back of the wagon. I’m perfectly capable of walking there and sitting on the seat.”

  She might as well have left the words unsaid for all he listened. “Does anything hurt?”

  “No, though I imagine I might have tender spots tomorrow, but this Minnesota girl is getting cold lying on the snow.” And she felt awkward and huge.

  “If you’re sure, then put your arms around my neck. I’m going to lift you, but if anything hurts, you must tell me right away.” He leaned close, eyes tense with worry, hands gentle.

  She did as he said, torn between gratitude for his solicitous care and frustration that she needed it. He tucked his hand beneath her knees and under her back and picked her up, steadying himself in the snow, peering into her face for the first sign that she was in pain.

  With careful strides, he brought her to the wagon and laid her on the straw in the back as if she was made of spun glass. Liesl had piled up the straw as best she could and stood in the box, mittens clasped tight together, her face pinched and her mouth wavering.

  “Sweetling, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Come, sit by me and we’ll keep each other warm.” Kate patted the straw. “Doesn’t it smell nice, all these pine branches? Grossmutter is going to be so pleased.”

  Oscar lost no time getting the horses started, but he didn’t rush them, keeping them to a brisk walk so as not to rattle the wagon too much. Embarrassment at her situation flitted across Kate’s skin. How ridiculous she must look, taking a tumble into the snow, then being conveyed home like a trussed-up turkey.

  When they reached the farmhouse, Oscar carried her up the steps, and Liesl went ahead to open the door.

  “Inge? Can you come with us? Kate took a tumble.” He didn’t stop in the kitchen but marched right up the stairs to her room.

  “Really, Oscar, put me down.”

  “You’re going to bed, and you’re going to let Inge take a look at you. I’ll be back in a bit with the doctor.”

  He set her on the bed, and she swung her feet over the edge to stand. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t need a doctor. There’s nothing wrong with me. Yes, I had a little fall, but it was into a pile of soft snow. I was more surprised than anything, but sending for the doctor is—”

  His hands were firm on her shoulders. “Lie down.”

  “Grossmutter, tell him.” Kate appealed to Inge. “There’s too much to do with the Advent celebration here tonight for me to lollygag in bed.”

  The elderly woman looked at Oscar’s uncompromising face, his crossed arms and his strong stance, and shook her head. “Schätzchen, perhaps it would be wise to rest for a while.”

  Liesl clambered up on the bed beside Kate, kneeling on the quilt. “You should do what Daddy and Grossmutter say, Miss Kate.”

  Feeling she had no choice in the face of so much opposition, Kate relaxed against the pillows. “Fine, I’ll rest here, but I don’t need a doctor.”

  “You’re having one, and that’s that. Inge, please, get her into some nightclothes and under the covers, and check her out. I’ll be back with Doc Horlock as soon as I can.” He strode out of the room and down the stairs. The kitchen door closed briskly, and the clop of horses’ hooves on the snow-packed drive faded.

  * * *

  What had he been thinking, taking a pregnant woman out in the snow and cold, just to cut some pine branches? And why had he let her out of the wagon? And what had come over him to toss snow all over her, getting Rolf excited and precipitating the collision?

  Oscar slapped the lines on the team’s rumps, urging them into a trot. With the snowy roads it would take him better than an hour to get to Mantorville.

  “Lord, please let Horlock be in his office and not out making house calls somewhere.”

  The sled skidded as he made the turn onto the main road, but he didn’t slacken the pace…and he didn’t stop praying.

  The Amakers were under his roof, under his protection, and it was his job to see that they were well cared for and safe. And what had he done? Let his head be turned by a pretty woman who made him forget all his self-imposed and hard-learned lessons. He’d given in to those lovely eyes asking him to let her go with him to the pine grove.

  And now she might have to pay dearly for his mistake.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Kate plucked at the blanket stitch surrounding the Dresden plate pattern on the quilt. It seemed strange to be in her nightgown in the middle of the day, especially when she wasn’t ill. Inge bustled about the room, pulling another blanket from the chest and spreading it over Kate’s feet.

  “You are sure you are fine?”

  “Yes. I was more surprised than anything. You’re all overreacting.” She pressed her head back into the pillows and closed her eyes. She was tired, but it was the same old weariness she felt every day.

  Inge sat on the side of the bed, taking Kate’s limp hand in hers. “Child, do you know how precious you are to us? If something happened to you or the baby, I don’t know what we would do.” Her grasp, tight but somehow soft, too, pressed into Kate’s fingers. Kate opened her eyes, feeling chastened for her churlishness.

  “I love you, too, Grossmutter, but nothing is going to happen to me. I wish this baby would just go ahead and show up so everyone could stop worrying about that and focus on what we’re going to do in a few weeks.”

  Martin tapped on the doorframe. He held the towel-wrapped handle of the warming pan. “The kettle is boiling.”

  Inge went past him into the hall. “I will bring some tea.”

  “There isn’t anything I can do,” Kate asked, “to persuade you to let me get up and on with the preparations for the party?”

  Shaking his head, Martin slid the bed warming pan under the edge of the quilt. Kate turned half on her side, drawing her knees up as far as she could as he rubbed the warming pan over the sheets. “It is no light matter for you to fall these days. And Oscar was clear in his instructions to keep you in that bed. You gave him quite a fright.”

  “I’m sorry to cause you all so much worry.” She moved her feet down, savoring the warmth from the heated sheets as he withdrew the brass warming pan. The feather mattress was nice, and the pillow so comfortable. She’d just rest for a while. Her eyelids began to droop, and she slipped over the edge into sleep.

  * * *

  “Mrs. Amaker.” Something pressed on her shoulder, giving it a small shake.

  Kate didn’t want to open her eyes. In fact, she wasn’t sure she could, her lids were so heavy, her mind so muzzy from slumber. She didn’t recognize the voice, anyway. Perhaps she was still dreaming.

  “Kate.”

  She knew that voice was Oscar’s and it sounded concerned. In a moment, when she was more awake, she would see what he needed.

  “Kate, wake up. Please. Dr. Horlock is here.”

  Managing to crack open one eyelid, she tried to focus. A yawn welled up and threatened to split her jaw. She barely got her hand up to cover her gaping mouth. “Sorry.” She blinked, struggling up out of somnolence.

  “Is there something wrong with her? Why isn’t she alert?” Oscar paced at the foot of the bed.

  Dr. Horlock set his bag on the quilt and smiled. “I think it’s because she’s sleepy. So would you be if you rarely found a comfortable way to sleep, or if you had a person living inside you who was seemingly trying to kick his way out the moment you finally snatched some rest. At least, that’s what my wife claims. She’s due in
three more months.” He motioned for Oscar to go out into the hall and turned back to Kate, who rubbed her eyes and pushed her hair back from her face.

  “Now, young lady, Oscar tells me you were plowed over by that shaggy beast of his.” He took her wrist in his fingers, finding her pulse and comparing it to his pocket watch. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “It wasn’t much of anything, really. The dog bumped me in the back of the legs, and I went down face forward into the snow. I caught myself on my hands and knees, and I sort of fell over onto my side so I wouldn’t land on my middle.”

  The doctor nodded, pursing his lips, keeping his eyes on the watch.

  “So you got shaken up a bit.”

  She nodded, and he glanced up, letting her wrist drop. “Yes. A bit. I was more surprised than anything.”

  “I’d like to listen to the baby. Have you felt him move since the fall?”

  Kate paused. Had she? She’d become so used to the baby rolling and kicking and tumbling that unless he delivered a hard smack to the underside of her ribs, she didn’t take much notice. A frisson of worry flicked across her chest.

  “I don’t know.”

  Dr. Horlock drew his stethoscope from his bag and gently turned back the quilt. Placing the small bell end against her abdomen and the tong ends into his ears, he closed his eyes. Slowly he moved the bell from one place to another, listening, his face calm and untroubled.

  Finally, when Kate was ready to grab his lapels and beg him to get on with things, he opened his eyes. “I think he’s sleeping. But I can hear his heart going nice and strong. I imagine he’ll be waking up and squirming around soon enough.” He asked a few more personal questions about her condition, and then patted her shoulder.

  “I’m going to recommend you stay in that bed until at least tomorrow, and that you take it easy for the next little while.”

  The rest of the day? Kate shook her head. The nap was nice, but she had things to do. “We’re having company this evening. It’s our turn to host the Advent party. I need to help Inge get ready.”