The Patch of Heaven Collection

by Kelly Long

  “Now just sit there a moment, and I’ll put a cloth round your shoulder, so you needn’t get your shirt stained.”

  He didn’t move until she’d finished her ministrations. Then he lifted his head and looked at her with distant eyes and a faint smile on his face.

  “Jacob, are you falling asleep? Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll show you the Christmas table in the morning.”

  He agreed, brushing past her with murmured thanks, then moving to the bedroom, leaving her behind with her hands tingling from far more than the burn of the liniment.

  He sprawled facedown across the bed and felt the pull of deep sleep, something he’d thought to deny himself. But he was shaken, rattled to the core, by the touch of his wife, and sleep seemed like the least problematic way to handle the situation.

  He looked so deeply asleep when she entered that she decided not to disturb him despite his domination of the bed space. She hastily changed into her nightgown and took down her hair, extinguished the lamp, and curled up in the rocking chair with an extra quilt.

  Happy Christmas, Lilly.”

  She woke slowly, unsure if the brush of Jacob’s lips against her mouth was real or part of a dream. She opened her eyes to find that the sun’s rays were beginning to climb the frosted window, heralding the day of Christ’s birth. She stretched beneath his gaze, feeling stiff and sore from her night in the chair, but smiled up at him just the same—before she caught herself.

  She wondered if he’d dreamed of Sarah again last night.

  “Happy First Christmas, Jacob.”

  He was already fully dressed, wearing a green shirt that she remembered from Meeting that especially brought out the color of his eyes.

  “Why the chair?” he asked.

  “Ach, you were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  He nodded and turned away from her to face the bed. “I . . . uh . . . I’ve been thinking, Lilly. I decided that it might be best if I slept on the floor for a while.” He went on in a rush while she felt her heart drop. “I think I’m used to a bigger bed—or something. And, when we both go back to work, we’ll . . . uh . . . need a good night’s rest. I believe the floor’s a gut idea. What do you think?” He turned back to her.

  She struggled to reply, feeling bereft somehow. “That’s . . . fine, but surely you’ll be cold?”

  He gave her a cheerful grin, and she sensed his relief. “I’m as hearty as a horse. Throw me a couple of quilts and I’ll be right as rain.”

  She nodded, and he clapped his hands together as if marshaling his thoughts. “All right. I did the chores already. I’ll leave you to dress and I’ll peel the potatoes for lunch. I don’t think your mamm’s up yet.”

  She wet her lips. “I’ll check on her in a bit. I’ll hurry.”

  He was already at the door. “No hurry. Take your time, teacher. I know how to start getting things ready for the noon feast.” He left the room with a whistle, and she sat still beneath the quilt, feeling the desperate urge to pray.

  Well, Lord . . . he can’t even sleep next to me. He loves Sarah so much—maybe I was wrong, Father. Wrong about everything. Maybe I tried to convince myself that this wedding was Your will. Maybe it was my own.

  She half-sobbed aloud at the thought, then had the sudden desire to talk to Alice. She decided to dress and run over to the Planks’ for a few minutes, rising with determination, wiping away her tears.

  CHAPTER 28

  Alice was in the midst of food preparations and alone in the kitchen when Lilly peered briefly through the back door window, then gave a quick knock. If Alice thought it was strange that she was not at home with her new husband on their first Christmas morn together, she gave no indication.

  Lilly hugged her friend, then sank down at the kitchen table.

  “What’s wrong?” Alice set two mugs of steaming cider on the table and waited. Lilly wet her lips, unsure of where to begin.

  “Daed and Jonah are outside doing chores,” Alice prompted.

  “Everything is a mess. I . . . I think maybe I made a mistake. That I was trying to say I’d heard God’s voice in marrying Jacob, but maybe it was just my own desire. And, I know you asked me about this before the wedding. Maybe I should have listened.”

  “Did you have a fight?”

  Lilly shook her head, realizing she couldn’t explain about the bed or Jacob calling Sarah’s name without feeling like she was betraying him somehow. She let her head fall into her hands.

  Alice patted her arm. “Lilly, I’ve known you since we were kinner. Don’t try and second-guess yourself. You made a decision and went through with it. God doesn’t abandon us, even if it is our own plans that we’re seeking. He always takes us from where we are. I guess it just takes awhile longer sometimes, when we decide to break our own path instead of using the one He lays before us.”

  Lilly lifted her head and wiped at her nose with a handkerchief she’d pulled from her sleeve. “Danki, Alice. I needed a place to run to for a few minutes.”

  Alice laughed. “Run away here anytime, my friend.”

  Lilly slipped back into her house like a wraith. Jacob still stood at the stove, but he looked up with a hesitant smile to greet her. “Is Alice having a gut holiday?”

  “Jah. I’m sorry, Jacob, for just running out like that. I . . . I’ve got to check on my mamm. I’ll be down shortly.”

  He tried not to watch her go up the stairs, but he couldn’t help himself. Somehow, everything was wrong and it was all his fault. He felt a pang of homesickness wash over him—homesickness for something he couldn’t describe. A sure place in the world. A true heart. He swallowed as his eyes blurred and he longed to touch Lilly, to give her comfort and wipe away all the pain his words and thoughts had caused her. He wanted to wrap her in a wedding quilt, a real wedding quilt, patterned by hands that loved and nurtured. He thought about her against the imaginary fabric, her dark hair loose and flowing—

  A soft knock on the back kitchen door startled him from his thoughts and he ran a hand across his eyes and left his cooking. Surely it wasn’t a neighbor so early . . .

  He opened the door and saw Seth and his heart filled with a rush of emotion.

  “Jacob?”

  His younger bruder’s eyes were deeply shadowed and he stood as though he carried an impossible weight on the breadth of his shoulders, wringing the circle of his hat through his hands.

  “Seth, come in.”

  “I . . . can’t. I’ve been such an idiot and I wanted you to know how sorry I am. I hurt you—and Lilly. I’ve been up all night, praying. I don’t know. Maybe I was jealous because you had someone wonderful, and I didn’t think you were treating her right. Maybe I thought your marriage would come between us. I’ve tried to figure it all different ways.” He drew a shuddering breath. “Anyway, that’s all. I wanted you to know.” He turned as if to go and Jacob caught him by the shoulder.

  “Come in here, little bruder.” Jacob struggled to keep his voice from shaking.

  Jacob caught Seth in a strong hug, squeezing him until he heard his back crack. Then he laughed, yanking his brother’s cold coat sleeve.

  Seth entered with his head down and Jacob closed the door behind him.

  “Lilly’s upstairs with her mamm. Look, I could have wrung your neck when I saw you with her, but you made me aware of something I think. I was so mad. I don’t get that mad if I don’t care, Seth.” He lowered his voice and met Seth’s anguished but hopeful blue eyes.

  “Nee, you don’t.”

  “So you’re not in love with her?”

  “I love her because she’s yours, Jacob, but I’m not in love with her. And I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me. I don’t even think I know what real love is anyway.”

  Jacob smiled. “Someday you will. And then—I owe your wife a hug.”

  Seth punched his bruder on the arm, then returned the embrace that made the world right once more between them.

  CHAPTER 29

 
Lilly crossed the upstairs hallway and knocked on the door with trepidation.

  “Kumme in, Lilly.”

  Lilly was amazed at the warmth in her mother’s voice and opened the door in some confusion. Her mamm was dressed and seated on the edge of her made bed, concentrating on braiding her long, grayish-brown hair. She turned to look at Lilly over one shoulder.

  “Happy Christmas.”

  “Happy Christmas, Mamm, what . . . I mean . . . it’s so good to see you up bright and early.”

  “I thought we should prepare for guests today. You know the bishop always makes sure that the widows are visited properly . . . although, now, with your marriage, I’m not really without a family any longer . . .”

  Lilly sagged against the door, unsure of what to think. It was one thing to see the occasional lifting of her mother’s spirits, the fleeting good mood, but to have her seem so vital was confusing.

  “Are you . . . all right, Mamm?”

  “Jah, I’ll be down shortly to help with the meal preparations. Run along now and help your husband . . . I can smell the stove going.”

  “All right.”

  Lilly walked down the stairs, rubbing her forehead. She went into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.

  “What’s wrong? Is your mamm poorly?” Jacob put down a wooden spoon and came closer to her.

  “Nee . . . she’s better . . . or something.”

  “Now that’s a Christmas miracle, jah? Great!”

  She shook her head and met his eyes. “No . . . it’s . . . there’s something wrong. I don’t know what it is, but I can tell. I can feel it. I’m scared, Jacob.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her with concern. “Maybe you’re overtired, Lilly. Surely your mamm feeling better doesn’t scare you, does it?”

  “I don’t know . . . I guess it sounds strange.”

  He smiled and bent to kiss her cheek just as they heard her mother coming down the stairs.

  “Go on and sit down a minute, Lilly,” he whispered. “I’ll put the teakettle on.”

  She did as he instructed, watching in amazement as her mother joined them at the table to make conversation and to talk with excitement about the coming day.

  Later, with a rare smile, Mamm accepted Lilly’s gift of crocheted snowflakes. Then she gave them a small cedar box which Lilly knew had been a gift from her father to her mother, one she held especially dear. “I want you both to have it . . . a keeping box, Hiram called it. You both can keep your memories inside.”

  Lilly smiled and started to relax as she caught glimpses of the woman she knew her mother could be. She decided that she’d been silly in her fears and that Derr Herr was perhaps giving them a very special Christmas gift indeed.

  Lilly’s mother retired at a much later hour than usual, after a day of visiting with company and more pleasant talk than she’d uttered in a lifetime—or so it seemed to Lilly. Now she and Jacob sat in chairs near the gift table and he smiled at her in the warm lamplight.

  “I forgot to tell you that Seth came by this morning. He . . . wanted to apologize.”

  “I bet that was the best Christmas gift you got today,” she said, thinking how much Jacob loved his bruder.

  “And I bet the best gift you had today is how you must be feeling about the change in your mother.”

  “Well,” she said, lowering her lashes, “I’ll treasure your present always.” She lifted the folded piece of leather from the table and realized how much time it must have taken for him to make the book cover. It was detailed workmanship of the finest quality, with intricate vines and flowers intertwined in abundant patterns etched into leather.

  He laughed. “Gut. I’m glad you like it.”

  She laid the book cover back on the table, then reached into her apron pocket for his gift. she’d debated for half the day with herself as to whether or not she should actually give it to him. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but perhaps he’d find it silly. She sighed and passed him the simply wrapped small parcel.

  “And here’s your gift, Jacob.”

  “Danki.” He smiled, clearly pleased. She watched him open it. He pulled out the square of plain cotton fabric and held it closer to the light of the lamp.

  “It’s a square,” he observed.

  She laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s not just a square. It’s a quilt square. Your own. I remembered what you told me about Miss Stahley, and I thought, well, maybe you’d like to make a quilt square during one of our tutoring sessions, and I could add it to our class’s spring quilt.”

  He was quiet for so long that she feared she’d offended him somehow, but when he looked up, his eyes were golden-green and full of emotion. He shook his head and the lamplight caught on the stray blond strands of his hair. Lilly thought he’d never looked so serious, nor so handsome.

  “Lilly . . . it’s so . . . nice. And gut. You make me feel like you can see inside of me, like you listen to me . . . thank you.” His chair creaked as he leaned forward to embrace her with warm arms, then folded the square carefully and tucked it into his pants’ pocket.

  She gazed at the present table once more, where handmade decorations of clay and paper trimmings nestled among the pine boughs. He began to ask her about each clay ornament until she slowly began to reveal forgotten parts of her life.

  “The Christmas tree is from second grade year,” she recalled as he carefully held the faded green dough.

  He turned the tree in his palm toward the light of the lamp. “I can still see your tiny fingerprints in the dough.”

  She took it from him, smiling; it seemed an intimate observation. And she wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “You still have small hands,” he said as she placed the tree back among the aromatic pine branches.

  “Do I?” she asked, extending her hands with innocence toward the light. He touched her then, soft strokes of one callused thumb over her knuckles. And she stilled, like a rabbit in the snow, until the moment was broken by the sudden intonation of the clock and a brief clicking noise, like the closing of a door.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder and drawing from him.

  “It was probably just the house creaking.” He looked back to the table. “Tell me about this material here. It almost looks like a quilt top.”

  She smiled in memory and caught up an edge of the gay patchwork fabric. “Ach, this is my favorite. My father and I sewed it together when I was a little girl.”

  “Only a real man and a gut daed would not be ashamed to quilt with his daughter,” he said with warmth.

  “I know. That’s how he was.”

  He caught her hand against the fabric. “I miss him too, Lilly. He taught me so much when I was young.”

  “I used to watch you come over to the barn from my window.” His eyes gleamed at her confession.

  “Did you now? I should have paid more attention . . .” He trailed off and she kept from mentioning the fact that his thoughts had probably been occupied by Sarah.

  “I remember once that Father had a large, unbroken black gelding out in front of the barn and he left you holding the horse’s lead to go and get something from his shed. The horse must have spooked or something because it started to toss its head and prance around, obviously very agitated. I was terrified for you. But you just stood there, relaxed and calm. I don’t know what you did, but he seemed to quiet some. And then you reached out and touched him. And he just stood still. The more you touched him, the calmer he became.”

  “I remember that. I was scared out of my mind that the horse would rear or kick, or completely take off. But I knew if I could be calm and relaxed, he might take cues from me. So, I just breathed into his nostrils and did the rest on intuition.”

  They were silent for a moment, then Lilly drew a deep breath. “Do you think Derr Herr gives us intuition at times, to help us do His will?”

  “If you mean the way we stepped into our engagement and wedding, then yes.�
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  She moistened her lips in thought, then rose from her chair. “We should go to sleep. Danki, Jacob, for a wunderbaar first Christmas.” She bent as if to hug him, then simply touched his shoulder and hurried to their room.

  Jacob sat for a while, perplexed at the emotions that seemed to rush past him whenever Lilly was near. His arm ached and he longed for another dose of liniment—especially if it could be anything like the last time. He sighed aloud, wanting to give Lilly time to change her clothes and get into bed before he took up his self-imposed place on the floor. He knew she wasn’t all that happy with the idea, but he couldn’t trust himself—in more ways than one. In that moment he realized he wasn’t worried about saying Sarah’s name in his sleep again; he just didn’t want to risk touching his fraa’s white skin while he dreamed . . .

  CHAPTER 30

  Jacob moved to turn off the lamp. He paused, feeling a compelling urge he couldn’t ignore. He lifted the lantern, walked through the room to the kitchen, and then to the back door. He slipped on his boots, opened the door, held the lamp up, and stared outside into the bitter cold, unsure of what he looked for. He almost went back inside, when once again he felt that he shouldn’t. He paused. Turned. Walked across the back porch and down the steps, feeling the wind bite through his shirt. He told himself that he’d just go check on the livestock, then go back inside. He felt he must surely be tired or too occupied with thoughts of Lilly to think straight.

  He almost tripped when his boot came in contact with something. He swung the lamp in front of him and the shine caught on the bluish white of Mrs. Lapp’s face and closed eyes, then on her exposed arms, summer nightdress, and pale, bare legs and feet. He almost choked as he tried for a second to process the image, and then he was down on knees, scrabbling in the snow to slip his arms beneath his mother-in-law. The light tipped and went out as he caught her against his chest. He rose and began to run with her slight weight to the shadow of the kitchen door.

  Lilly came out of a sound sleep to hear Jacob calling her name. She ran from the bedroom to see him bending over the kitchen table, lamps lit, his arms moving feverishly over what appeared to be a bundle of quilts.