Heart in Hand: Stitches in Time Series #3

by Barbara Cameron

  Sarah Rose sat up, wiping her tears away with her fingers. When she went to wipe her nose with the cuff of her dress, he stopped her, shook his head, and gave her a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket.

  “Maybe she’d like to see my room after?”

  “I bet she would.”

  She considered that. “Okay.” Cheered, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, then slid off the bed.

  Crisis averted, Gideon went downstairs and found Anna looking inside his refrigerator.

  “You don’t have to make your own sandwich.”

  She jumped. “Oh, didn’t hear you. Do you have pickles?”

  He pulled out a jar and handed them to her. “Dill?”

  “Doesn’t matter. What about toothpaste?”

  He eyed her warily. “We have mayo.”

  Anna laughed. “Just get the toothpaste, please.”

  She’d told him that he needed to be careful what he said to Sarah Rose because she wasn’t so little, she was becoming a big girl. Mary had never been hard to understand. He knew from what other men said that some were but not her. She had always been so easy to be around. Interesting that her daughter was looking like she might not have that easy personality Mary had.

  Sarah Rose joined them. “I’m sorry I ran upstairs, Anna. You must be very hungerich.”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  Gideon walked back into the kitchen and handed Anna the tube of toothpaste.

  “You’re going to eat toothpaste?” Sarah Rose asked her.

  Anna grinned. “No, your father’s going to wear it. Or pickles.”

  Now it was Gideon’s turn to stare.

  “Excuse me?”

  She walked over to the sink. “After you two went upstairs I suddenly had this idea. I called Jamie. You know Jamie? She’s come to church a couple of times.”

  “The Englisch girl with the colored hair?”

  “That’s right. She works at the shop part-time. Well, I remembered that she sometimes uses Kool-Aid to color her hair. I called her, and she told me what to do if you get it on your skin.”

  “Pickle juice and toothpaste?” Gideon asked, wondering if he was hearing correctly.

  “One or the other. Not both at the same time.”

  Gideon looked at Sarah Rose and then shrugged. “I’m game.”

  A few minutes later, he watched as the pickle juice did its magic. “Well, how about that,” he said as dye ran down the sink. “Who knew it could be that easy? Nothing to get upset about after all, right?”

  “Except Henry said you looked like a Smurf,” Sarah Rose said with a giggle.

  Gideon gestured for them to sit. “I can handle being called a Smurf,” he said grandly.

  It wasn’t what he’d like to have been called, but now, if teasing him put that smile that he loved back on her face, well, the world could call him a Smurf and he wouldn’t care.

  Then he looked across the table at Anna and saw that she was smiling at his daughter. She glanced at him, and he saw something he had never seen before.

  He saw a woman he wanted to know better.

  Reminders of Mary were everywhere in the house, but nowhere more than in Sarah Rose’s bedroom.

  Perhaps it was because this had been one of Mary’s favorite rooms. He knew many people called the kitchen the heart of the home, but for Mary, their long-awaited first—and only—child’s room became the place he’d often find her.

  He wasn’t as good a carpenter as other men he knew, but he’d done his best on the rocking chair he gave her the Christmas before Sarah Rose was born. She’d sit in it and read during the time before she delivered, and then she’d rock their baby many a night when she was colicky or teething.

  Near the end, when he’d wake and find Mary’s side of the bed empty, he’d tiptoe into Sarah Rose’s room and find Mary sitting in the rocker, watching her sleep in her big girl bed.

  It was as if she tried to cram in every moment with her child in case she didn’t survive the ovarian cancer that the doctor discovered during one of her checkups.

  The rocking chair wasn’t the only thing that reminded him of Mary. As his gaze swept the room, he saw the old chest of drawers that had been hers and her mother’s and her grandmother’s. There’d been a pad on top of it she’d sewn so that she could change Sarah Rose’s diapers, but that was long gone now.

  A shelf he’d made held some of the cloth dolls and stuffed animals she’d made for their daughter, most of them lovingly tattered by a little girl who used to take them to bed. Now she acted like she was too old for even her favorite doll.

  Fortunately, she hadn’t yet grown too old for story time before bed.

  He sat down on her bed with the book she’d chosen for tonight’s bedtime reading and waited for her to finish brushing her teeth. She always kept her bedroom clean and her bed made, but she’d obviously used the time-out yesterday to make it spotless.

  Lost in his thoughts, she surprised him when she padded barefoot into the room and climbed onto his lap.

  Her hair was soft and clean and smelled like the baby shampoo he still bought. The snowy white nightgown she wore smelled of sunshine. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her before she slipped between the sheets.

  She looked like such an angel, but as he opened the book she made a face. “You still smell like pickle juice.”

  Gideon picked up a pillow and put it over Sarah Rose’s face. “Now you don’t have to smell it.”

  She pummeled him with her fists and wiggled to get free.

  He pulled the pillow off. “Did you say something?”

  “Smurf!”

  Clapping the pillow back over her face, he said loudly, “Can’t hear you!”

  She pushed at him and got the pillow off her face—it wasn’t hard since he barely held it on her. “Smurf, Smurf, Smurf!” she giggled.

  He held his hand over her face. “Here, have a nice whiff before you go to sleep.”

  “Ugh! Now I’ll dream about green pickles chasing me.”

  Without turning, she nipped at his fingers with her teeth.

  “Ouch! You’re so obnoxious!”

  “I know what that means!” She pretended to be offended.

  “I bet you do,” he said, getting up. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Bring me a glass of water. Please,” she added.

  He rolled his eyes and then left the room. When he returned, he brought her a glass of water, but he also carried something that made her eyes grow big. Setting the glass on her bedside table, he sat down on the bed.

  “When Anna showed me the thimble, I recognized it,” he said, opening the little wicker sewing basket. From it he withdrew the thimble and held it out to her. “This was your mamm’s. I was going to give it to you when you got older. But Anna said I should give it to you now.”

  He placed it back in the kit, closed the top, and held it out to her.

  Sarah Rose took the basket and hugged it to her chest. “Danki, Daedi.”

  “Just take good care of it.”

  She nodded, then slipped out of bed and set the basket on top of her dresser. When she returned to bed, she didn’t get in but instead threw her arms around him. “I love you.”

  “I know. I love you, too.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been bad. I don’t know why I do things sometimes.”

  “Maybe it’s time for you to go talk to somebody who can help you understand.”

  She pulled back and frowned. “Like who?”

  “Like a counselor.”

  Her bottom lip jutted out, and she frowned. “I’m not crazy.”

  “People aren’t crazy because they see counselors.”

  “David Stoltzfus says they are.”

  “David Stoltzfus is something else,” Gideon muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Come on. Get back in bed and let’s read our story and get some sleep. Monday’s going to come awfully early.”

  “Why do people say tha
t? It comes at the same time, doesn’t it?”

  Gideon rolled his eyes. “Ya. Bed, Sarah Rose. Now.”

  She climbed into bed and he tucked the quilt around her, then he kissed her forehead and rose.

  “I like her.”

  He stopped and turned back to look at her. “Who?”

  “Anna. She doesn’t pretend to like me to be near you.”

  Gideon walked back to the side of the bed. “Who does that?”

  “All the ladies who aren’t married.”

  5

  Naomi got into the van, gave Nick a quick kiss, then turned around to stare at Anna. “So what happened?”

  “Well, that was romantic,” Nick said wryly.

  Embarrassed, she turned around, put her hands on his face, and looked him in the eye. “Sorry,” she told him, and this time she gave him a proper kiss.

  Then she turned around and stared at Anna again. “Tell me what happened.”

  Anna met Nick’s gaze in the rearview mirror, and a little exasperated, Naomi looked at Nick again. “I don’t think I should be expected to give you a better kiss than that in front of my grandmother and Anna.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Of course not. I’m waiting for you to buckle your seat belt.”

  She rolled her eyes but complied. “Are you going to make us do that when you drive a buggy?”

  Pulling down the visor on the passenger side, she narrowed her eyes at Anna. “Now tell me. I saw you leaving with Gideon after church, and I didn’t have a chance to call you last night.”

  “He gave me a ride home.” Then she bit her lip. “Well, we went to his house for lunch. Sarah Rose, too,” she added quickly. “He wanted my help with something.”

  Naomi turned to their grandmother, but before she could ask the question, Leah shook her head.

  “I don’t know more than you do,” Leah said.

  “Come on,” Naomi said. “You’ve always been so nosy about our lives.”

  “Why that’s—” she cast a glance at her grandmother—“absolutely true.” She grinned.

  Then she told the story as quickly as possible but without the mention of the way Gideon had looked at her a couple of times. That was absolutely no one’s business. And she wasn’t even sure there was anything to it.

  All she knew was that it was the first time that she’d even remotely been interested in being around a man, let alone a little attracted to him.

  Besides, what had struck her was the way she had felt an unexpected bond with his little girl. She loved children and babysat often for her twin siblings, but it was usually younger children that she related to best.

  “Oh, somebody got quiet and thoughtful and in her own little world.”

  “What?”

  “Is it possible that you’re interested in Gideon?” Naomi wanted to know.

  Anna caught the look she got from Nick in the rearview mirror.

  “What?”

  He shook his head and grinned. “I just remember how you were like an Inquisitor with Mary Katherine and then Naomi about their dating,” he said. “It’s nice to see the shoe on the other foot, so to speak. Turnabout’s fair play.”

  “Any other clichés you want to use?” she muttered.

  “No, two a day is my limit.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  Laughing, he flicked on the turn signal and pulled in front of the shop. “Have a good day, ladies.”

  Anna and Leah climbed out, letting Nick and Naomi say good-bye. Well, kiss good-bye was more accurate. Anna had teased them a couple of times about it, but she really was so happy that they’d found each other and were getting married that she tried to hold back the teasing.

  As she walked to the back room to put her things away, she passed the shelf with the knitting kit Gideon had bought his daughter.

  She found herself remembering what she’d said to Sarah Rose after church. She’d really meant what she said about how her moods were still up and down and she wasn’t always so pleasant with the people around her.

  Anna had hesitated about sharing something so personal with a child, but it had seemed right when Sarah Rose had been so upset. She hadn’t experienced losing someone she loved as a child, but it didn’t seem to her that it was much different from losing anyone important to you. Sarah Rose had listened but hadn’t said much so she didn’t know if she’d helped at all. But it didn’t really matter. Anna had felt moved to say what she had, and that was all that mattered to her.

  The morning moved slowly because it was raining.

  So they sat in their chairs in the circle before the crackling fireplace and worked on their respective crafts. Mary Katherine sat weaving a beautiful blanket in earth tones of russet, gold, pine green, and burnt sienna, and Leah sewed and stuffed her little Amish dolls. Anna’s needles clacked as she knitted a new cupcake hat for a baby—it was hard to keep them in stock this time of year. Naomi stitched on a quilt and occasionally stopped to scribble something in a notebook she was using to plan her wedding.

  Naomi didn’t talk much about wedding plans in front of her. Anna had noticed that Mary Katherine hadn’t, either.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they didn’t want to upset her, but it was time to stop that. She’d been so self-involved she hadn’t noticed Mary Katherine doing this, but now, as time had passed and the grief wasn’t quite as raw about Samuel, she realized Naomi seldom talked about wedding plans.

  Well, Anna told herself, I’m not fragile and even if I was, Naomi deserves to have every minute of joy talking about her wedding in front of me.

  “Not much longer now, is it?”

  Naomi glanced up, and when she realized that Anna was looking at her, she frowned. “Not much longer for what?”

  “Your wedding.” She shook her head. “You haven’t forgotten it, have you?”

  “Of course not!” Naomi bit her lip. “I just—well, I—”

  “You don’t have to hold back from talking about it because of me.”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  “Liar.” But she smiled to show she wasn’t being mean.

  Naomi set her quilt down. “What do you want to know?”

  “Anything—everything.”

  Naomi’s cheeks bloomed with pink color as she talked about the upcoming wedding. Anna had already heard about the color of the dresses she, Mary Katherine, and the others would wear because they’d had to pick out the material to begin cutting it and sewing the dresses.

  The food would be simple for the wedding meal and the evening supper but all wedding favorites: roast—roasted chicken and filling, vegetables, salads, rolls. Pies and cookies and cakes galore. And, of course, the wedding cake. All of the food would be made by friends and family with loving hands. She couldn’t wait to surprise Nick with the flavor of the wedding cake; she’d narrowed it down to three choices.

  Anna let her cousin’s words wash over her as she knitted, determined to concentrate on them and not let herself drift away into a daydream about how she’d felt planning her own wedding years ago.

  “So you think he’ll like the flavor of the cake?” Naomi asked a little loudly.

  “Yes, of course,” Anna said. “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “Most people don’t like to eat mud cake with dandelion frosting.”

  She stood staring out the window of the shop with a pensive expression on her face.

  Although the day was a bit chilly, Gideon used the excuse that Sarah Rose wanted to look at the display window to give himself a few minutes to study Anna.

  Gone was the carefree expression she wore so often when he saw her. Once, when he’d had a particularly difficult night thinking about Mary, he’d been a little resentful of her healing from her loss. It didn’t seem to him that she could be feeling what he’d been feeling, seeing his late wife everywhere he looked.

  Even looking at his daughter had been painful. Sarah Rose was the image of her mother from her daintily pointed chin to that funny little
frown she’d get when she concentrated on something.

  Today, not knowing that someone looked upon her, he saw the vulnerability, the shadow in her eyes. Maybe his assumption that she’d been recovering from her loss faster than he had was wrong.

  When she moved and caught sight of him, he looked away quickly, pretending to study the window display. Somehow he didn’t think that she would appreciate him seeing her having a private, thoughtful moment. Anna had always been friendly, but there was a reserve about her since Samuel had died.

  He raised his hand and waved, and she waved back, smiling as she glanced down and saw Sarah Rose.

  Anna opened the door. “Well, hello.”

  “Are we in time?”

  “In time for what?” she asked.

  “The knitting class,” Sarah Rose said, looking around her. “There’s nobody here.”

  “We’re early,” her father told her. “I told you that I needed to ask Anna if we could join it, remember?”

  Sarah Rose shifted the handles of the cloth tote bag on her shoulder. “I think we’re going to be the only oneses, Daedi.”

  “They’ll be here,” Anna told her. She looked at Gideon. “Would you like some coffee?”

  He nodded and rubbed his hands. “Ya, it’s a bit chilly today.”

  “Black, right?” She poured him a mug. “Sarah Rose, would you like some hot chocolate? It’s not homemade—it’s a packaged mix—but it’s good. It even has mini marshmallows.”

  She looked to her father for permission. Then when he nodded, she said, “Yes, please.” They went into the kitchen, and Anna made it for her.

  “Gideon! How nice to see you,” Leah said as she entered the room. “And Sarah Rose as well.”

  Anna set the mug before the child, cautioning her to wait until it cooled to drink it.

  “We’re here for a knitting lesson,” Sarah Rose told her, swinging her legs under the table as she stirred her hot chocolate, making the mini marshmallows bob in it.

  “I’m probably the only man who’s ever taken the class, right?” Gideon asked, his mouth quirking in a grin.

  “Nee, Daniel Yoder was in here last year,” she said, pouring herself a cup of the hot water Anna had just boiled on the stove.