Love Inspired Historical November 2017 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

  How could she leave them? Leave all that was dear and familiar? How could she bear to say goodbye?

  Liesl’s head bobbed she sang with such gusto, her hair pinned up in braids crossed over her crown, her cheeks red from walking in the cold, her white pinafore snowy. When Kate was gone, hundreds of miles to the east, Liesl would grow up, go to school, learn and change and expand her horizons.

  And Kate would miss all of it.

  And Liesl wouldn’t be the only one Kate missed as if a piece of her heart had been left behind.

  Her leg brushed Oscar’s as she tried to find a comfortable position on the hard pew, and his nearness sent awareness ricocheting through her. When she left Minnesota, she would also be leaving Oscar.

  Oscar, who started out remote and cool to the idea of opening his home, but who had turned out to be kindness itself. He’d allowed every corner of his life to be invaded, and though he had tried to shield himself and his daughter from involvement, he’d become entangled in the Amakers’ affairs from the very beginning.

  She wore clothes he had given her, ate food at his table, sat by his fireside for warmth. She got to love and cherish his daughter, conspire with him to create a Christmas gift for her, watch him craft things out of wood and his imagination. She had worked alongside him, watched him, and somewhere along the way, she had fallen in love with him.

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated on that thought.

  She loved Oscar Rabb.

  How could that be, when she loved Johann so very much? Her love for Johann had been a whirlwind. He’d caught her up in his excitement, pursued her with ardor, won her easily with his charm and vision and big ideas. They had met, courted and been married within the space of three months.

  And Oscar was his complete opposite. Steady, thoughtful, guarded, careful. He made her heart feel sheltered and cherished, though he’d never displayed any romantic feelings for her. The kiss under the mistletoe didn’t count, did it? Since he’d practically been forced into kissing her by his daughter.

  Though he could’ve kissed her on the cheek instead of the lips.

  She opened her eyes and realized that Oscar was looking at her with a frown. “Are you all right?” he whispered as the children filed off the platform to find their parents and Mr. Tipford took his place in the pulpit.

  His eyes were close to hers, the same color as Liesl’s, the rich brown of the walnut he used in his furniture making. Her breath caught somewhere high in her lungs.

  She couldn’t speak, so only nodded, and though she felt she could stare into his eyes forever, she forced herself to face forward. Paying attention to the sermon was beyond her ability at the moment, but she must at least appear to be listening.

  Of course, she could never let on to him that she loved him. He would neither want nor accept her love. His heart still firmly belonged to Gaelle. He’d been in mourning for two years, and from what she could tell, he’d never contemplated taking another wife, even though that would’ve eased his burdens considerably.

  Oscar turned and picked Liesl up when she returned to their pew, setting her in his lap so she could lean back against his chest. He put his arms around her and brushed his beard on the top of her head.

  Kate shifted again, pressing her palms into the hard seat and squirming. Inge leaned forward and studied her, questions in her eyes. Kate shook her head, giving Inge a rueful smile, apologizing without words for being so fidgety.

  The service finally ended, and they were on their way out of the church when Kate stopped on the steps, the pain in her back growing sharp, taking her breath. She winced, gripping the handrail and bending slightly at the waist.

  “What’s wrong? Did the baby kick you again?” Oscar handed Liesl over to Martin and took Kate’s arm.

  “No, it’s just this backache.” The pain eased some and she straightened. “It’s been coming and going all afternoon.”

  Mrs. Frankel, coming through the church door with her baby in her arms, said, “All afternoon? Sounds like you might be starting your labor.”

  “Oh, no, it’s just a backache.” Kate closed her cloak collar against the cold night air. “I’m sure I would know if I was in labor. It doesn’t feel anything like the doctor told me to expect.”

  “Honey, I’ve been through this a dozen times. Doctors are well and good, but they’re men, and they don’t know bees from a bull’s foot about being in labor. The pains can come a lot of ways, and a backache is one of them. I’d advise you to get home right smart. And if you want, as soon as I get the children bedded down, I’ll come over.”

  Patsy Frankel had a comforting brusqueness about her that calmed Kate. She was sure the older woman was wrong, but at the moment, getting back to the house and into bed sounded like a wonderful idea.

  “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  Oscar stood still as if stuck to the porch boards. “You’re saying her time’s come?” His voice sounded hollow and dry.

  “Most likely.” Patsy checked to see that her little one was covered with the blanket. “George, round up the kids. It’s time to go.” She patted Kate’s arm. “Don’t you worry. First babies take an age. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Jerking like a statue suddenly come to life, Oscar shook himself. “Wait here and I’ll bring the wagon around.” He held out his hands. “Don’t do anything until I get back.”

  He vaulted the porch railing and rounded the church. He would be back soon, so why was Kate feeling so scared and abandoned right now?

  * * *

  The baby was coming.

  That was the only thought Oscar could muster as he urged the horses into a steady trot. Every few seconds, he checked back over his shoulder to where Kate lay on the straw. Inge patted her hand, and Kate protested that she wasn’t sick. The pain wasn’t bad, and they were all overreacting.

  And the panic he’d been suppressing grew claws and hiked its way up his rib cage.

  Martin leaned close. “Do you think I should ride into Mantorville for the doctor?”

  “No, you should stay at the house and do whatever the women need—heat water or keep the fire stoked or… I don’t know. I’ll go for the doc.” Oscar slapped the lines again. If he had known she was going to start the baby, there was no way he would’ve let her take so much as a single step out of the house tonight. What had he been thinking?

  He’d been thinking of how blue her eyes were, and how, when she asked him for anything, something in his chest sort of burst from its bonds. He found himself wanting to do everything he could for her.

  He had found himself thinking about that kiss. The first kiss he’d shared with a woman in two years.

  Putting the brakes on that thought, he concentrated on getting them home quickly and safely.

  “Daddy, is Miss Kate sick?” Liesl clung to the seat back.

  “No, Poppet. She’s not sick.”

  “Why do you need the doctor, then?”

  How much should he tell her? “It seems it might be time for Miss Kate to get her baby, and doctors can be right helpful when it’s time for a new baby.”

  Liesl’s face brightened. “Oh, good. I’ve been praying forever.”

  They turned onto the farm road, crossed the bridge and swung into the yard. Rolf greeted them with a deep woof, coming up off his place on the porch. Martin went to help Inge, and Oscar plucked Liesl up and set her on the porch. “Go on inside and hang up your coat. I’ll bring Miss Kate.”

  He rounded the back of the wagon. Kate had her head down, and he reached out with his gloved hand to touch her chin and lift her face. “How are you doing?”

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit scared.” Her pupils were so big her eyes looked dark.

  “Me, too, but you’re going to do great. I’ll get you settled in the house and head o
ut for the doctor. And Mrs. Frankel will be here soon. She’s done this plenty of times.”

  Her lips trembled, but she nodded.

  “Are you having any pain now?” He didn’t want to jostle her or try to pick her up if she was hurting.

  “No.”

  “Then put your arms around my neck, and we’ll have you inside in a flash.” He gave her a wink that belied how jittery his insides were behaving.

  Inge had the lamps lit, and Martin was stirring up the fire when Oscar came in, heading straight for the stairs. The minute he had Kate in her room with Inge coming along behind, he headed back out the door.

  Martin met Oscar on the porch with a lantern. “Do you want to take the team, or do you want to saddle a horse?”

  “I’ll take the team, just in case the doc wants to ride back with me.”

  “Take your time. It is very dark, and the roads might be bad.” He fastened the lantern to the wagon seat beside Oscar to help light his way.

  “Right.” Oscar knew he wouldn’t be able to take his time. But he wouldn’t be foolhardy, either, because an injured horse or broken wagon wouldn’t help Kate, either.

  The road to Mantorville was rutted and well-traveled, which helped him see where to go. A few clouds had drifted in from the north, muting the stars.

  Thankfully, Dr. Horlock was at home, though Oscar felt bad taking him from his family on Christmas Eve night.

  “Don’t worry,” the doctor said as he wrapped well against the cold. “Babies seem to like to come on holidays and at night. My family is used to the hours I keep.”

  Dr. Horlock told Oscar to go ahead while he followed on his saddle horse. “That way you won’t have to bring me back later, especially if this is false labor.”

  A couple miles from Mantorville, the doctor caught up with Oscar and passed him, and when Oscar arrived back at the house, Martin met him at the door.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Fine, I suppose. Mrs. Frankel is here, and the doctor. I’ll put the horses away for you. You have to be cold. The fire’s roaring in there, and I’ve boiled enough water to fill a lake.” He smiled, but his voice was tense.

  “Where’s Liesl?”

  “She’s in the kitchen. Didn’t want to go to bed until you got back.”

  Oscar bounded up the steps and into the kitchen, a blast of heat smacking him in the face. Liesl stood on her chair by the sideboard, moving the wood blocks on the tablecloth.

  “Hey, Poppet.” Oscar unwound his scarf, pulling it and his hat off together. “I think it’s time for bed.”

  She pursed her lips. “But will the baby come soon? I want to see him.”

  He picked her up, tossing her as high as the ceiling would allow. “It takes a long time to get a baby, and you need your sleep. Anyway, it’s Christmas Eve, and if you want to wake up to your presents, you need to get to bed.” He set her on the chair, then turned around and squatted. Liesl climbed onto his back for the ride upstairs. “You keep calling the baby ‘him.’ You do know that it could be a girl, right?”

  She laid her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck. “Yes, but I think it will be a boy. I asked Jesus for a boy baby.”

  “I’m just praying that he or she will get here safely, and that everyone will be healthy.” Oscar helped Liesl with her bedtime routine. He left the hall lamp burning and her door half-open. “Good night, Poppet. Sweet dreams, and I will see you in the morning. You did a beautiful job with the singing, and I was very proud of you.”

  As he passed Kate’s room on his way back downstairs, he paused. When the door opened, he started. Dr. Horlock came into the hall, wiping his hands on a towel, and as he closed the door, Oscar glimpsed Kate’s dark hair on the pillow, and Mrs. Frankel bending over her.

  “How is she?”

  “She’s doing well. It sounds like she went into labor early in the afternoon, but didn’t realize it. Attributed it to backache. It happens that way with some women. But she’ll be a while yet.” He indicated for Oscar to precede him down the steps. “Time for some coffee. And Mrs. Amaker says there are enough cookies and treats in the house to feed an army of doctors.”

  Oscar nodded. “I am beginning to learn that the way Mrs. Amaker shows her love and care is through sweets. I don’t know how I haven’t gained ten pounds in the last couple months.”

  Dr. Horlock took a chair at the table, leaning back, relaxed, but Oscar couldn’t sit still. He paced from the front window to the workshop door, into the parlor and back to the stove. Martin came in from the barn, brows raised to see the doctor in the kitchen.

  “Is it over, then?”

  “No. It will be a while yet. The women will call me when I’m needed.” Dr. Horlock sampled a square of Brunsli.

  “You don’t think that fall she took last week did her any harm, do you?” Oscar leaned on his palms on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Or being out tonight?”

  The doctor shook his head. “I was recently going through the medical records that my predecessor left when I took over his practice. Kate’s situation is nothing like what happened to your wife.” He glanced up. “I’m sorry about that. But there is no reason to think history is going to repeat itself here. Kate is in fine health, the baby has been quite active and she has suffered no ill effects from the little tumble she took. I imagine that in a few hours the house will be filled with some rather loud squalling, and you’ll wish for some peace and quiet.”

  It all reminded Oscar so much of that night, two years ago, when he’d paced the kitchen, waiting and waiting for the sound of a baby’s cry. The house seemed to close in around him. His heart thundered in his ears.

  “Oscar, maybe we should go into the workroom.” Martin took his elbow. “We have a few things to be finishing before morning. It will be good to keep our hands and minds busy. Herr Doctor, you are welcome to join us.”

  “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stretch out on the settee in the parlor for a while. It’s going to be a late night.” He rose, stretched and sauntered into the parlor.

  Oscar’s hands fisted. How could the doctor be so casual?

  “Come, Oscar.” Martin nudged him into the workroom and brought one of the lamps from the table.

  It was just as well that there was no intricate work that needed to be done. Oscar felt as if his mind was wrapped in cotton wool. Martin gave him a carved piece and a bit of sandpaper, but over and over, Oscar’s hands fell to his lap and his mind refused to focus on the work.

  How had he come to be in this place in his life? He, who had vowed never to open his heart to anyone else, to never be this vulnerable to hurt again? Then Kate Amaker had dropped into his life and everything had changed.

  “It’s hard, isn’t it?” Martin asked.

  “What?” Oscar blinked.

  “To wait. When we care so much about the outcome.” Martin set down the piece he was working on. “The past two months have been very difficult, waiting. Waiting to see what God would have us do. Waiting to hear from my brother, waiting for a door to open so that we could stay in Minnesota. Now waiting for the baby. But through it all, there is the certainty that God is big enough to take care of us, no matter where we are or what happens to us. Things don’t always work out the way we would hope, but if our expectation is always that God will reveal Himself, and that what He does is for His glory and our good, it makes the waiting easier.”

  Steps sounded, coming down from upstairs, and Oscar ducked into the kitchen. Mrs. Frankel went to the stove and poured water into a basin. “Doctor, it’s about time.”

  Dr. Horlock rose from the couch, wide awake, and headed up the stairs.

  “Is she all right?” Oscar asked Mrs. Frankel.

  “She’s doing just fine. Won’t be long now.” She tossed a couple of clean towels over her arm and picked
up the steaming basin.

  From that point on, Oscar couldn’t even pretend to work. He paced. He stared out the window into the darkness. And he faced up to the truth he’d been avoiding for the past month.

  He loved Kate Amaker, and he didn’t want her to leave.

  After what seemed a couple of lifetimes, a baby’s cry drifted down from upstairs, and Oscar sagged into one of the kitchen chairs, his head in his hands.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Kate had an entirely new perception of what it meant to be tired, and yet, she was too excited to sleep. Inge helped her sit up, stacking more pillows behind her back.

  “Well done, Kate.” Mrs. Frankel laid the blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms. “All clean and ready to meet Mama.”

  Blinking away the tears that clouded her eyes, she looked down into the face of her son. Round cheeks, button nose, cap of dark hair. His tiny hand opened and closed, impossibly small fingers, each with a perfect miniscule nail.

  “I’d guess he’ll go about seven and a half pounds.” Dr. Horlock rolled down his sleeves and buttoned the cuffs. “Strong little heart, and as you’ve heard, a very sturdy cry. I don’t envy you when he gets wound up in the middle of the night telling you he’s hungry.” He grinned. “Mrs. Frankel, you are welcome to assist me on any delivery. I’ve never seen a better midwife.”

  “Practice makes perfect, both the having and the delivering. I imagine I’ve assisted at more than half the births in this county over the past fifteen years.”

  Inge leaned over and kissed the baby’s head. “You did a beautiful job. Thank you, Kate. This little one gives me hope. It has been a long time since I had hope. Can Martin see him?”

  “Yes.” Kate couldn’t even look up she was so captivated. “I can’t wait to introduce them.”

  “Come along, Doctor.” Pasty Frankel finished straightening up the room. “We’ve earned some rest, and they don’t need us hanging about.”