Heart in Hand: Stitches in Time Series #3

by Barbara Cameron

  “Go on a picnic.”

  He considered that. It was still a little cool for a picnic, but they could bundle up. “Okay. After we do our chores, we’ll make up a picnic lunch.”

  Gideon knew without looking that she probably made a face at the mention of chores. Sarah Rose didn’t particularly care for the ones at the start of the day. But his agreeing with her plans kept her from objecting about doing them. That, and the knowledge that they both had chores and everyone had to do their part.

  “Maybe we should just put some carrot sticks in the picnic basket for you today. I think you’ve gained some weight since we did this.” He reached behind him and tickled her at the waist.

  She giggled and wriggled away, causing him to grab her so he wouldn’t drop her. “I’m a growing girl,” she said. “That’s what my grandmother says.”

  “A growing dumpling,” he pretended to complain.

  “Oh, a squirrel!” she cried. “Let me down! Let me down!”

  He did as she asked and watched her scamper after the bushy-tailed animal. “Don’t get too close! I don’t want it to bite you!”

  “I won’t!” she called back over her shoulder. But at the rate she was running, Gideon figured she could overtake the squirrel if she wanted.

  She vanished into the woods that bordered the field, and he felt a moment’s unease. Then she yelped, and he took off after her, his heart in his throat. Had she caught the squirrel? Were snakes out yet?

  When he drew closer, she stepped out of the woods, clutching something white in her hands. “Lookit this!” she cried, holding out her hands. “Snowdrops! You told me once they were Mamm’s favorite!”

  “They were,” he agreed quietly, seeing so much of Mary in her face then—the glow in her eyes, the pink in her cheeks. The sweet lift of her lips in her smile.

  “Can we take them to her on the way to the picnic? Anna won’t mind. I see her in the cemetery sometimes. She goes to see Samuel, remember?”

  He nodded. Indeed, he remembered. His thoughts went back to the last time he’d seen her there, when he and Sarah Rose had gone to leave the birthday card for her mother.

  “When did you see her there?” he asked casually. It was wrong to pump the child, but he couldn’t help it. He’d been troubled by seeing Anna sitting on the cold ground that day and wondered how long she’d been there.

  “Other day,” Sarah Rose said, lifting the flowers to her nose to sniff at them.

  Gideon thought about that as he walked. Normally, he wasn’t a person who tried to rush things. That kind of personality couldn’t be a farmer. Whoever heard of a farmer who waited impatiently for a seed to sprout, who dug it up to see how it was going?

  No, he was a patient, steady man. Mary had even teased him for how he was patient to a fault.

  Yet he knew part of his restlessness came from wanting things to move along a little faster with Anna. They spent as much time together as they could, but he wanted more than that. He wanted them to share a roof, share a life, not this seeing each other for an hour or two every other day or so.

  He wanted more with her. The trouble was, along with that restlessness he still had a niggling doubt that she was as ready as he was for marriage.

  Together, he and Sarah Rose took care of the morning chores, and after washing up, they put together a picnic lunch in the kitchen. Leftover roast beef sandwiches on thick slices of bread, some tart Granny Smith apples, peanut butter cookies they had made the day before. He tucked in a carton of milk for Sarah Rose and a thermos of coffee for himself and Anna.

  “Daedi said he wanted to wait to get you,” Sarah Rose said when Anna opened her door.

  “It’s not polite to show up early,” Gideon said, giving his daughter a stern look. “After all, when we made our plans earlier in the week we said eleven o’clock.”

  “It’s all right,” Anna said with a smile. “I was waiting for you.”

  She turned to put the knitting she held in her hands in a basket on a table near the door. “Do you want to come in?”

  “A kitten!” Sarah Rose cried as one wound itself around her feet. “It’s a kitten! When did you get a kitten?”

  “It’s not mine. She showed up one day, and she’s been sleeping in the barn at night. I was about to feed her. Do you want to do it?”

  “Can I?” Sarah Rose looked at Gideon with a pleading expression.

  “So long as you’re careful and don’t let it scratch you. It’s a wild thing, remember?”

  “I didn’t get scratched by the squirrel this morning,” she reminded him and followed Anna into the kitchen, accidentally bumping into her when she followed too closely and Anna stopped to get a can of tuna from the kitchen cupboard.

  “And don’t get any ideas about asking if you can take her home,” he warned.

  The two females exchanged a look, and then Anna handed Sarah Rose a saucer to put the tuna in. She carried it outside and carefully put it down, then sat on the porch watching the kitten wolf the food down.

  “Gideon,” Anna began.

  “No,” he told her, not taking his eyes off his daughter’s hand reaching tentatively toward the kitten’s head.

  “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

  He turned to look at her. “Sure I do.”

  “But—”

  “No,” he said mildly.

  “Every child should have a cat or a dog.”

  “No.”

  “But it’s so little trouble.”

  “Are you going to take care of it?”

  “I’m not living at your house.”

  “Exactly.” He watched her blush.

  “You know I can’t come there too often or people will talk.”

  He stepped closer to her and watched the soft rose deepen in her cheeks. “And you know people would be happy to see the widow and the widower getting together.”

  Anna stepped back, indicating with her glance toward Sarah Rose that she could see and hear them.

  “She hasn’t noticed anything since that kitten walked up to her,” he said, reaching for her hand. He stroked it with his. It felt so good to hold it. “Fireworks could be going off and all she’d see is a little gray kitten.”

  “She’s going to work on you,” she warned. “And I notice that she usually gets her way with you.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not true.” He watched her press her lips together to keep from smiling. “Well, only when it’s something that’s good for her.”

  “Schur,” she said, drawing out the word.

  They pulled Sarah Rose away from the kitten with the promise she could feed her again later when they brought Anna home, and then it was off to the picnic with a side trip to the cemetery first.

  And all the way there Gideon wondered if there was a way to find out whether Anna was any more ready to become engaged than the last time they’d talked about it.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind stopping here?”

  Gideon brought the buggy to a stop at the cemetery, then got out and helped Sarah Rose down.

  “Of course not.” Anna watched the child scamper off to her mother’s grave, the snowdrops clutched in one hand. “I think it’s so sweet that she wants to do things like this.”

  He got back into his seat and searched for the right words. “Did you want to go see Samuel?”

  She smiled slightly. “That would be a little hard.”

  Feeling his face redden, he cleared his throat. “Of course. I meant his grave.”

  “No.” She turned to him. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, and he shrugged. “We’re here.” He wanted to look away, but she was studying him and looking puzzled.

  Sarah Rose came racing back. “I gave Samuel some flowers,” she told Anna as she clambered into the backseat. “I didn’t think Mamm would mind if I gave him some of hers.”

  “Of course, she wouldn’t,” Anna hurried to say. “That was a very nice thing to do for
Samuel.” She turned from smiling at Sarah Rose and stared straight ahead, her mind swirling with questions about why Gideon asked if she wanted to visit Samuel’s grave. It didn’t seem like a casual question . . .

  Sarah Rose chattered nonstop about the picnic on their way. It was a blessing in a way because Anna didn’t have to talk to Gideon.

  They spread an old quilt on the ground in a little park overlooking a pond. They ate the sandwiches, the apples, the cookies, and though she made a face at drinking milk, Sarah Rose did so while Anna and her father drank coffee.

  Then, after a quick promise to her father that she’d be careful and not fall into the pond, she ran down to the water’s edge clutching a leftover sandwich for the ducks.

  “Why did you ask me if I wanted to visit Samuel’s grave?”

  Gideon looked up from packing the remains of the picnic. “It was just a simple question. I know you visit.”

  It was just a feeling, something she couldn’t explain. There was something bothering him, and she couldn’t let it go. “Are you concerned about me visiting it?”

  “Of course not. I visit Mary’s grave.”

  “For yourself—or for Sarah Rose’s sake?”

  He jerked his head up, and the lid slammed on the picnic basket. “What kind of question is that?”

  “It’s just a question. If we have them, we should be able to ask them, shouldn’t we?”

  Gideon stared at her for a long, long moment. And then he sighed and nodded.

  “So why are you bothered by my visiting Samuel’s grave?”

  “Bothered is too strong a word,” he said slowly. “I’m just wondering if you’re really ready to date.”

  Her breath caught. She let it out. “That’s a strange question to ask all of a sudden.” She searched his face but couldn’t read his expression. “Have you forgotten that I warned you that I didn’t feel I was ready when we first started seeing each other? We agreed we’d be friends, and we’d take things slowly. It doesn’t feel like you’re doing that.”

  “Maybe I haven’t,” he told her in a low voice, avoiding her eyes. “Turned out to be harder than I thought it would be.”

  Then he turned to look at her, his eyes intense. “Someone told me that you visit Samuel’s grave a lot.”

  “Who would say such a thing? And what’s ‘a lot’?”

  He looked up to check on Sarah Rose and saw her edging closer to the pond. “Excuse me—Sarah Rose! Step back from the pond! Now!”

  Turning back to Anna, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Doesn’t matter who said it. Is it true?”

  Was Martha—a busybody if there ever was one—gossiping again? She’d caused Naomi some problems once.

  “I know how I feel about you and I think you know it,” he said. “But two people have to want the same thing. Take some time and let’s get together and talk later this week when there aren’t little ears around.” He paused, looking for Sarah Rose again and nodding when he saw her still standing by the pond.

  Stunned, Anna didn’t know what to say. Who’d have thought that a casual picnic would turn into a tense discussion of where their relationship was heading—or not heading?

  He got to his feet and then held out a hand to help her up. They walked to the water’s edge and saw that Sarah Rose was studying her reflection in the still pond. She smiled when she saw their reflections on either side of her, and then her smile faded. Her gaze went from one to the other, and she frowned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Anna said quickly, and she gave Gideon a warning glance. She wasn’t having the child upset. “It’s just time to go home now.”

  Sarah Rose turned and scanned their faces. She slipped her hand into one of her father’s and one of Anna’s and started walking toward the buggy.

  Feeling helpless, Anna exchanged glances with Gideon over her head. He shook his head, his expression pained. As if she’d say anything!

  Usually, no one got a word in edgewise because of Sarah Rose’s chatter. Today, she stayed silent, occasionally giving them a worried look. How quickly she picks up on tension, Anna thought.

  Gideon pulled into Anna’s drive and stopped. Before she could get out, Anna sensed movement behind her and felt Sarah Rose’s arms slip around her neck.

  “I’m sorry I was bad!”

  Anna turned around and saw the tears on the little girl’s face. “You weren’t bad! I just had to get home. Besides, it looks like it’s going to rain soon.” She hated not telling the truth, but it seemed justified here. “I’ll see you in a day or two, all right?”

  Seeing Sarah Rose about to wipe her nose on her sleeve, Anna quickly found a tissue and handed it to her. “Now, no more silly talk.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” Gideon said.

  Anna shook her head. “No, there’s no need. You both need to get home. It’s good we left when we did.”

  “I love you.”

  The words stopped her. Anna turned and smiled at Sarah Rose. “And I love you.”

  Anna let herself into the house and closed the door behind her. After taking off her jacket and hanging it up, she put the teakettle on to boil. Feeling chilled, she grabbed the knitted shawl from the peg on the wall and wrapped it around her shoulders. The house felt even emptier than usual after the time she’d spent with Gideon and Sarah Rose. People were fond of saying alone didn’t mean lonely but today . . . well, she felt lonely.

  Things had been good before he’d brought up his question about whether she was ready to date. Where had that come from anyway? If she hadn’t been interested in him, if she could never be able to commit to another man, she wouldn’t have toyed with his affections. She cared about him and wouldn’t do that to him. Obviously, since Samuel had been the one and only man in her life since they’d been schoolmates, it had been horrible for her . . . it had only felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. But that inexperience with men . . . she didn’t know how to toy with a man’s affections, to see him and be insincere about one day being married to him.

  She poured hot water into her mug when a thought suddenly struck her: maybe Gideon was the one who was having cold feet and didn’t want to see her anymore. . . . Jamie was always complaining that the men she knew blamed her when they broke up with her. What if that was what Gideon was preparing to do?

  Restless, she wandered into the living room to her favorite overstuffed chair and sat there, her legs tucked under her, cradling her mug of tea in her cold hands.

  Not quite warmed up by the tea, she set the empty mug on the table beside the chair, pulled one of Naomi’s quilts over her lap, and reached for her knitting in the basket by the chair. Knitted baby hats with floppy bunny ears were going fast at the shop since Easter wasn’t far off.

  Her knitting needles clicked, and the pink bunny ears grew. But as the minutes passed, the events of the day came back to haunt her, and she sat in the growing dark, her knitting lying in her lap.

  16

  Mary Katherine was sitting on the bench in front of the shop when Anna, Naomi, and their grandmother arrived one morning.

  “Did you lose your key?” Anna asked as she walked up. Then she stopped and peered at her cousin. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” Mary Katherine said through gritted teeth. “But turn and wave at Jacob so he’ll leave.”

  Anna did so, but then she turned and sat down on the bench. “Why do you want him to leave if you’re not all right?”

  “Something wrong?” Naomi asked as she approached.

  “Turn and wave at Jacob!” Mary Katherine hissed.

  Naomi did as requested, but then demanded, “What is going on?”

  “I just can’t walk right now, but if Jacob knows, he’ll insist I go home.”

  “But if you’re not feeling well—“

  She closed her eyes and seemed to withdraw from them. “I’m not sick. It’s just that the baby is kicking so hard!”

  “That’s good,” said Leah, pa
tting her shoulder. “It means he’s healthy and strong.”

  “And going to kick his way out of here,” Mary Katherine said, opening her eyes. “There, he’s stopped. I’m fine now.”

  She frowned and batted her arms at her cousins as each of them took one of her arms to help her up from the bench. “Stop that! I’m pregnant, not an invalid!”

  Before they could get her inside, a buggy pulled up in front of the shop.

  “Good morning, ladies!”

  Mary Katherine turned. “I saw you leave!”

  “I thought it was kind of suspicious that everyone was waving to me and you weren’t going inside the shop. What’s going on?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Nothing. Don’t you need to get going? You have a lot of work on the farm.”

  “I need you to tell me the truth.”

  “The baby’s just really active, that’s all.”

  Jacob looked at Leah. “Is that all?”

  “That’s what she says. We have to take her word for it.”

  He got out and walked around the buggy to stand before her. “You tossed and turned all night, and you were abnormally quiet this morning on the way here.”

  “I’m just uncomfortable,” she insisted. “That’s how pregnant women get sometimes.”

  “We’ll see,” he said, scooping her up into his arms.

  “Jacob!”

  “I’m taking her to the doctor,” Jacob told Leah. “I’ll bring her back after, if the doc says she’s okay.”

  Mary Katherine argued with him all the way to the buggy, but Jacob turned a deaf ear to her. As they drove away, she stuck her head out and called to them that she’d be back.

  “Talk about romantic,” Naomi said, and she sighed.

  “Maybe.”

  Naomi blinked at her. “I think he was showing he cared about her.”

  Anna shrugged. Seemed to her that he wasn’t listening to Mary Katherine. She had a right to decide how she felt. Then she told herself that she shouldn’t be critical of Jacob. He was just being caring. There was no comparison with Gideon deciding things.

  “Anything wrong?” Leah asked, sitting on the bench and patting the place beside her. “You’ve been quiet the last few days.”