The Amish Wonders Collection

by Ruth Reid

  “You do beautiful drawings,” Simon told Hannah as she handed him a gift. “For me?”

  Hannah nodded.

  Simon opened his and showed everyone the picture of the deer. “I love it.” Even his eyes turned glassy.

  Josiah’s gift from Hannah was a picture of the old draft horse, Moose. “I’ll make a frame for it tomorrow,” he said, thanking his daughter.

  “He will get up,” Hannah signed.

  Josiah wasn’t following. He asked her to repeat the hand gestures. She repeated the same message. He nodded, though still confused. Maybe she meant hang it up.

  Simon handed each of them a bag. A saw for Josiah and matching dresses for Lindie and Hannah. “I had Rebecca make the dresses. She suggested the bright-blue color.”

  “Denki.” Lindie held hers up. “I’m going to wear this to the sleigh ride tomorrow nacht.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Simon said. Josiah’s father-in-law smiled, which he didn’t often do.

  Hannah resumed playing with the doll.

  Lindie motioned to the gifts she’d given Josiah and Simon. “Are you two going to open the ones from me?”

  “Absolutely.” Josiah peeled the packaging away. “When did you have time to do this?”

  “Lying in bed all day.”

  Josiah unfolded the colorful scarf and several hankies fell out. Her thoughtfulness left him speechless. He swung the scarf around his neck. “Denki, I won’t get kalt this winter.”

  Simon unwrapped his package and smiled. “People won’t be able to tell us apart, Josiah.”

  They all laughed.

  “I’m sorry they’re not all one color,” Lindie said.

  “They’re perfect.” He would have stood and hugged her as Hannah had if Simon wasn’t in the room.

  Josiah reached into the box that held the presents. He pulled out another gift for Hannah and then handed one package to Lindie and one to Simon. He wasn’t so interested in Hannah’s response to the bag of saltwater taffy, and he assumed Simon would be pleased with his new straw hat and suspenders, but what he was really anxious to see was Lindie’s reaction when she opened her paint set.

  Lindie’s eyes widened. She looked at him, then Hannah, then at him again. She shifted in her chair, cleared her throat, then stood. “I’m going to make some kaffi.”

  He thought for sure with the way she eyed the brushes in the art store that she would have liked the gift. Now he wasn’t so certain he had bought her the right thing. “I think I’ll check on the kaffi too,” he told Hannah and Simon.

  Steam hissed from the kettle spout on the stove. Lindie stood at the window, her face hidden in her hands.

  “Lindie?” He moved closer. “If you don’t like the paint set, you can return it.”

  She shook her head.

  He lowered her hands, and her eyes glistened. “What’s wrong?”

  “You gave me the cradle. Why the paint set? You said you were buying Hannah a set. Did you change your mind because of mei comment about spoiling her?”

  He smiled. “I said I wanted to spoil mei maydel—you. When we went into the store to buy colored pencils, I watched you study those brushes. I thought you liked painting.”

  She lowered her head. “I do, but you didn’t have to buy me such an elaborate present.”

  He tipped her chin. “You’re important to me.”

  Her eyes budded with fresh tears. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away the other nacht. I’m sorry. I . . . I know a fraa is supposed to be—”

  “It’s Christmas. Let’s nett talk about it nau.” He hadn’t intended to sound stern, but his frustration had come through. He wanted more from her than a dutiful wife. Yet falling in love was his doing, not hers. She hadn’t forsaken the rules—he had.

  The kettle whistled and she removed it from the stove. “Do you want kaffi?”

  “Nay.”

  “Me either. Should I pour one for Simon?”

  “Later.” He reached for her hand. “There’s another gift for Hannah to open from both of us.” He shrugged one shoulder. “So I wanted to spoil both of mei maydels.”

  “You bought her a paint set too?”

  He nodded. “I couldn’t resist.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The sudden snowstorm made it treacherous to follow the other sleighs in the house-to-house caravan. Earlier in the evening a soft glow of lamplight flickered on the snow-covered landscape as the families traveled in a group across the open fields. However, the whiteout changed that. Suddenly any trace of lantern lights from the other sleighs had vanished.

  Lindie scanned the area. “I don’t see anyone’s lights.”

  “Jah, I wish we had more moonlight to guide us.” Josiah looked down at Hannah leaning against Lindie. “Is she asleep?”

  “Jah.” Lindie marveled at how the child could sleep during a blizzard. Lindie had wrung her hands so much during the last hour that she had worn a small hole in her knitted mittens. If she had even a portion of Hannah’s peace, Lindie would be grateful.

  “We should all have agreed to postpone the last half of the visitation,” Josiah said.

  The only homes left were the Troyers’ and theirs. Did he have another reason for wanting to postpone the visit? Perhaps even traveling the fields was too dangerous. It didn’t lessen her disappointment.

  Traveling through the woods and across the fields, she hadn’t recognized the Troyers’ barns until Josiah veered the buggy to the left and maneuvered Molly between the two buildings. He stopped at the hitching post next to the house where the others had parked.

  Lindie nudged Hannah.

  The child stirred, then yawned and stretched out her arms.

  “All this fresh air should help her sleep gut tonight,” Josiah said. “What about you, are you tired?”

  “Nay, I’m wide-awake.” Yet the moment Lindie stepped into the house, the heat from the woodstove zapped her energy. She removed her boots at the door and helped Hannah take off her cape. The child was still groggy. Hannah turned to Josiah and lifted her arms for him to pick her up.

  Rebecca motioned to the dark hallway. “You can lay her down in the back bedroom if you want. Just take one of the lamps from the sitting room for light.”

  Lindie grabbed the lamp and led the way.

  “She’s really worn out,” Josiah whispered as he lowered Hannah onto the queen-sized mattress. “I’m wondering nau if we should have skipped this and gone home.”

  “There’s still another stop on this outing.”

  Hannah rolled onto her side.

  Josiah guided Lindie out of the room. “I hope you won’t be upset if I cancel.” He eased the door closed. “No one expected it to snow this much tonight.”

  “I understand.” She followed him down the hall to the sitting room and the sound of chatter.

  The weather had delayed the caravan. Several of the women mentioned how late it was. Ada’s family had cut their evening short after the second house on the loop, saying the temperature had dipped too low for the children. It made sense with Ada so close to her due date.

  “I made soup and sandwiches,” Rebecca announced. She waved Lindie to follow her into the kitchen. “What time did Simon’s bus leave today?”

  “Six this morning. Josiah said his bus should have arrived by nau so at least he missed the storm.” Lindie ran her hand over the arm of her dress. “By the way, you did a nice job sewing mei dress. I was very surprised when Simon gave it to me.”

  “He’s had a difficult time. First he lost his dochder, then his wife a few months later. But I think you’ll find he’s making an effort to accept Josiah and Hannah’s new life.” Rebecca nodded to the men in the other room. “Is Josiah feeling all right?”

  “I think so. Why do you ask?”

  “Doesn’t he look a little pale to you?”

  Lindie leaned to see into the other room. She caught a glimpse of him seated across the room. Either the lamplight was reflecting an unnatural shade over him,
or Rebecca was right and he looked sickly. Lindie should have noticed earlier. He turned away from the men and coughed, then touched his neck. Was he checking his temperature? No wonder he suggested ending the evening.

  Naomi entered the kitchen, carrying a sleeping toddler in her arms. “Lindie, I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think we’re going to make it to your place tonight.”

  Sarah rounded the corner behind Naomi. “Us too. Abe is talking about leaving nau before it snows any more.” She patted Lindie’s arm. “I am sorry. I hope we can get together again soon.”

  “I hope so too.” Noticing Josiah sitting quietly, it was obvious they needed to head home.

  Rebecca reached out her arms toward Naomi. “I’ll hold David while you put your cape on.”

  “I shouldn’t keep Abe waiting,” Sarah said, leaving the kitchen.

  Lindie peeked into the sitting room half expecting to see Josiah signal that it was time to leave. He didn’t.

  “The ham and cheese are on the counter if you want to fix sandwiches for yourself and Josiah.” Rebecca continued to rock the child in her arms.

  Lindie had eaten something at each house they’d visited tonight and wasn’t hungry, but she prepared a sandwich for Josiah. The bishop was asking about Simon as Lindie entered the sitting room.

  “His bus should have arrived in Centerville sometime after four. It’s gut he left before the storm or he might have been snow-bound,” Josiah said.

  Bishop Troyer nodded. “Jah, I know he wanted to see his bruder.”

  Lindie handed Josiah the plate with the sandwich.

  “Denki.” He smiled.

  Dark shadows circled his eyes. If she could speak with him alone, she would suggest they leave. Instead, she asked if he wanted a cup of coffee.

  “Maybe a glass of water.” His voice sounded hoarse. “Please.”

  She hurried back into the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and brought it to him. The bishop and Rebecca were both distracted with good-byes.

  “Are you having fun?” Josiah took a drink.

  “Jah, but anytime you’re ready to leave is okay with me.” Guilt gnawed at her. Had he participated in the visitation only for her benefit? She wanted to visit with the women, but not at the cost of his health.

  “I haven’t said anything yet about canceling our stop.” He took a bite of the sandwich.

  “I mentioned it to the women in the kitchen. They all agreed the weather has gotten worse.”

  After standing by the door as the visitors left, Rebecca brushed her hands against her arms. “This might be one of our worst winters yet.” She turned to her husband. “Don’t you think they should stay here tonight?”

  The bishop nodded.

  Lindie forced a smile, waiting to hear Josiah’s response.

  Mischief twinkled in his eyes when his gaze connected with hers. “Denki,” he said, turning back to the bishop. “I think we’ll be all right to travel home.”

  She eased out a long breath.

  Josiah finished the sandwich and handed Lindie the empty plate. “We shouldn’t wait too much longer. I’ll go get Hannah.”

  Lindie tucked Hannah into bed before going to the kitchen to redd-up. She opened the cabinet and was returning the stack of clean plates as Josiah entered.

  “It should warm up soon. I loaded the woodstove.” He snatched a cookie off the plate as she picked it up. “I’m sorry the get-together ended early. You went to a lot of fuss making so many cookies.”

  “Hannah and I had fun.” She removed the lid to the cookie jar. “Did you want more before I put them away?”

  He took another one. “I wouldn’t want your hard work to go to waste.”

  “It was just as well that everyone didn’t kumm. Hannah was exhausted.” She transferred the cookies from the plate into the jar.

  “She probably could have slept all nacht at the Troyers’.” He smirked. “But I didn’t think you wanted to stay.”

  “It would have been a little awkward . . . to keep our arrangement.”

  He muttered something undecipherable under his breath and took a bite of the cookie.

  She continued tidying up the area, wrestling with the decision to talk to him about her past.

  “We’ll host a gathering soon,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “I wanted to talk with you about the other nacht.”

  “You don’t have to explain.” He started to turn and she caught his arm.

  “It isn’t that I—” She cringed. This was harder than she expected.

  He stepped closer. “Don’t say anything.”

  “I must.” Or else she might never. “I wanted you to kiss me.” There, she said it. “It’s just that—”

  “It’s all right.” He cupped her face in his hands and looked her in the eye. “It’s all right if you don’t feel the same way about me.”

  She couldn’t hold back the truth. Even if he rejected her as Moses had. “You asked me about the father of the boppli.” His hands dropped from her face and he groaned, but she continued anyway. “You asked why I didn’t tell him I was pregnant.”

  He lowered his head.

  “I don’t know the father.”

  “What?” He jerked his head up. “Eli made it sound as though—”

  “Mei bruder doesn’t know.” Acid coated the back of her throat. She fumbled with a loose string on her apron, unable to look him in the eye. “Moses and I had gotten into a spat.” Her voice shook. “He tried to kiss me and I wouldn’t let him. We had promised each other we would wait until we were married. But he was leaving the next day for his onkel’s and . . .”

  “I don’t understand.” He moved in front of her. “You said you don’t know who the father is—”

  “I was stubborn. I refused to ride to the singing with Moses. Mei friend was hosting the nacht and we lived two farms apart, so it was a short walk. It should have only taken me a few minutes.” She squeezed her eyes closed and forced herself to continue. “A car slowed. I kept walking—even faster when the man yelled out the window at me. He said some things . . . that frightened me. Then the car stopped.” Her heart pounded hard, recalling the screeching sound of the brakes, the car door opening, and the footsteps thundering against the pavement. “I ran into the woods to hide. Only I tripped over a stump—and—and—” She gasped for air.

  Josiah ushered her into his arms and pressed her against his chest. “I won’t let anything happen to you again.”

  Every fiber in her body quivered. She fisted her hands against his chest but suppressed the impulse to push him away. “I couldn’t fight him. He tore mei kapp from my head and crammed it into my mouth. I screamed—until I passed out.” Anger flared. “He took what he wanted, then left me for dead.”

  He held her a little tighter. “You’re safe nau.”

  His soothing voice relaxed her. A long stretch of silence fell between them. Her throat was dry. She stepped out of his embrace. Her hands trembled as she filled a glass with tap water and drank.

  “Why didn’t you tell Eli?”

  She lowered the glass from her mouth. “I couldn’t.”

  “Lindie, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “The man threatened to burn every barn in the district if I told. I believed him. He knew where I lived, and that I ran Margaret’s vegetable stand.” She took another drink, then set the glass on the counter. “That’s why I could agree to your terms of marriage. Love didn’t matter as long as it meant leaving Ohio.”

  “And Moses? Surely if you had told him, he would still have married you.”

  Shaking her head, she said quietly, “Nay.” He didn’t press her to say more, but she did. “I confided in him. He wanted me to take a pill that he said would solve everything. When I refused to end the pregnancy, he said I wasn’t what he wanted for a fraa. I was . . . tainted.” She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “He wasn’t wrong.”

  “Jah, he was.”

  She took
another drink. “I made a kneeling confession in church that I was sorry I stayed out all nacht with an Englischer.” She bowed her head. “I was accepted back into the flock, but Eli worried I would never find a man who would marry me.” She shrugged. “I didn’t understand why you would be willing to take me . . . but I was grateful.” She lifted her head. “I couldn’t stay in Ohio with that madman loose.”

  “You should have told the bishop what happened.”

  “I thought being shunned would be easier than living with guilt if the man burned down the barns. Besides, he knew where I lived—everything about me. He would have . . . violated me again.” Tears welled, blurring her vision. “Can you forgive me?”

  “For what? Lindie, you never sinned.” He cupped her face in his hands. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing.”

  She blinked and warm tears cascaded down her cheeks.

  He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead.

  Tension shot through her and she stiffened. God, will I ever get over those vile memories? I don’t want to feel detached from Josiah every time he touches me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, releasing his hands. “I didn’t mean to frighten you with mei advances.”

  “I’m sorry too. You deserve someone better than me.”

  Josiah shook his head. “Don’t say that.” He reached for her hand and held it. “I want to be your husband—more than just in name. But only if you want our agreement to change also.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he spoke first.

  “Don’t decide nau.” He smiled. “We’re in this marriage for our lifetime. I’ll convince your heart eventually.”

  “You said you wouldn’t ever change your mind.”

  “At the time, I believed that to be true.” He shrugged. “Apparently mei heart didn’t listen, because I’m in love with you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lindie kicked at the bedcovers. If she wasn’t going to get any sleep, she might as well read the Scriptures. She blindly groped the side table for the matches and lit the lamp wick. Flickering shadows danced on the walls as a warm glow filled the room.