The Friday before Christmas the first snowflakes of winter fluttered from the sky. Ruthie paused in her cleaning to peer out the window and watch the fluffy bits drift downward to create a lacelike pattern on the brown landscape. So beautiful … A lump filled her throat. The entire hotel was decorated for the season with evergreen boughs and fat red candles and strings of gold and white beads. Everywhere she looked, her eyes met beauty. Yet inside, she was more empty and sad than she’d ever been. What was wrong with her?
“Ruthie?”
Dinah’s voice pulled her attention from the scene outside. She turned to find Dinah framed in the doorway, peeking in. A soft smile curved her lips and brightened her eyes. Ruthie sighed. “What do you want?”
“Would you like to walk into town with me during our lunch break? I need to do some shopping.”
Ruthie stifled a groan. Why hadn’t she stopped to remember Christmas was only days away? She hadn’t purchased any gifts for her family yet. She and Phoebe had exchanged gifts last year, so she should probably buy a little something for Dinah, too. If she could manage it without Dinah seeing. And maybe letting a few of those fluffy flakes fall on her hair might cheer her a bit. “Yes, I’ll go.”
Joy lit Dinah’s face. “Good. And may I ask a favor of you?”
Ruthie shrugged.
“You have brothers. And a father. So you’d know better than I what a man might like.” The girl’s cheeks flushed as scarlet as if she stood in a frigid wind. She toyed with the shoulder strap of her apron and angled her head downward in a timid pose. “Will you help me choose something appropriate … for Mr. Ackerman?”
Her request bruised Ruthie’s heart. The groan she had held inside escaped. “Oh, Dinah …”
Dinah blinked several times, confusion pinching her brow into furrows. “What?”
Closing her eyes for a moment, Ruthie prayed for guidance. With a sigh she looked at her roommate. “Choosing a gift is a very personal thing. If I were to pick something, it wouldn’t really be from you, would it?”
Her frown remained intact. “But I’d be the one buying the gift. So of course it would be from me.”
Ruthie snatched up her feather duster and set to work, whisking the feathers over the dresser’s surface with a vengeance. “But it wouldn’t be your idea. It should be your idea, Dinah.”
She blew out a heavy breath. “That’s the problem. I don’t have any ideas. Not a single one!”
Ruthie rolled her eyes and aimed the duster at the bed’s ornate headboard. “With all the letters he’s sent, he’s never hinted at what he likes?” Only a fool would miss the sarcasm in her tone.
“No.” Dinah trailed Ruthie, wringing her hands. “Oh, please, Ruthie? I’m sure you’ve bought presents over the years for your father. I’m sure he’s been happy with what you chose. So can’t you help me find something? I don’t want to make a mistake.”
Ruthie paused, her conscience pricking her. Dinah sounded desperate and near tears. She hung her head. Was she resisting helping because she was jealous that Dinah had reason to purchase a gift for Mr. Ackerman? She searched herself, but she couldn’t discover an honest answer.
Facing Dinah once more, she forced herself to speak kindly. “You’re right that my father has always been pleased with whatever I gave him.” She placed her palm against her bodice. “But he was pleased because he knew I gave from my heart. So the item didn’t matter to him as much as the thought behind it.” She cupped her hand over Dinah’s shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to choose something without my help? So you’ll know, without doubt, the gift really did come from you?”
Dinah sucked in her lips and stared at Ruthie for several long seconds. Beneath Ruthie’s hand, the girl’s muscles were tense. For a moment, sympathy twined through Ruthie’s chest. She’d never witnessed such turmoil. Maybe she should just tell Dinah what to buy to put her at ease. She started to offer a few suggestions, but Dinah spoke first.
“All right. I’ll pick something. But will you give me your opinion on it? Just in case I … I make a foolish choice?”
She must be the biggest kind of ninny for agreeing to help another girl buy a gift for the man she’d hoped to snag for herself. “Yes, Dinah, I will.”
Dinah
Christmas Eve morning Dinah awakened before dawn, images of the nightmare still floating in the back of her mind like mist over a pond. Eager for sunshine to erase the haunting fog, she slipped from the bed, donned her robe and slippers, then made her way to the outhouse. The cold, crisp air stole her breath momentarily, but the first taste of morning was pleasant on her tongue. She sucked lungfuls of the frigid air, allowing its clean freshness to chase away the ugliness of her dreams.
When she stepped from the outhouse, she caught sight of a flash of red. It took a full second for her brain to recognize what her eyes had seen. But then she smiled at the cardinal darting between the scraggly boughs of a bare lilac bush. Shifting from foot to foot on the frosty ground, she basked in the beauty of the bird’s bright feathers against the plain background. In her Bible reading, she’d encountered the story of God providing quail to feed the children of Israel in the desert. Might God have sent this bird to her this morning to feed her soul? It was a ridiculous thought—why would the mighty God of the universe send something just for her?—but she clung to the idea anyway.
The patter of feet on the hard ground met Dinah’s ears, and the bird shot out of the bush and disappeared around the corner of the hotel. Disappointed, Dinah turned to see who had startled the beautiful red bird into flight. Minnie bustled up the path leading to the outhouse, holding her robe closed at the throat. Minnie was always the last girl to rise and had been late to breakfast more than a dozen times due to her unwillingness to roll out of bed in the morning. Of all the people to encounter in this predawn hour, Minnie was the last one Dinah expected.
Apparently Minnie hadn’t expected to find anyone else up, either, because when she spotted Dinah, a sour look crossed her face. “You’re up early.” She spoke softly, yet her tone held a hard edge.
“So are you.”
Minnie flicked a glance right and left. “Are you going to stand out here all morning or go inside?”
Stung by the girl’s impatience, Dinah scuttled around her and went inside. Ruthie still slept, so rather than lighting the lamp and dressing, Dinah eased open the door to the wardrobe and took out the gift she’d purchased for Mr. Ackerman. After sinking down on the floor, she laid the slim, leather-covered box in her lap and lifted the lid. Although heavy shadows shrouded the room, the mother-of-pearl inlay on the pocketknife’s handle glowed like a full moon in a black sky.
Dinah ran her finger up and down the smooth mother-of-pearl. The knife came all the way from Sheffield, England, designed and crafted by a man named George Wostenholm. The clerk at Graham and Tucker claimed Wostenholm knives were of the finest quality and would last a lifetime. When Dinah had seen the pearl inlay, as creamy as the shell of an egg, she deemed it the perfect knife for Mr. Ackerman to carry in his pocket.
Ruthie had agreed it was a fine gift, something Mr. Ackerman would certainly enjoy, but she raised her eyebrows at the price. However, Dinah willingly handed over four dollars and twenty-five cents. How could one put a price on the kindness she’d been given from her very first time of meeting him? She owed him a much bigger debt than a four-dollar pocketknife. Now, smiling down at the knife nestled in its protective box, she tried to imagine his face as he opened it. Oh, she hoped he would be pleased with it.
The bedsprings creaked, and then the covers rustled. Moments later Ruthie peered over the edge of the bed, her face scrunched as she squinted through the murky light. “Why are you on the floor again?”
Dinah swallowed a giggle at Ruthie’s sleep-roughened voice. “I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Ruthie’s gaze dropped to the box in Dinah’s lap, and she flopped onto her belly with her head half on, half off the mattress as she continu
ed to stare at the knife. “You should have asked to have that wrapped.”
Dinah replaced the lid and laid both of her palms over the box. She’d allowed the clerk to wrap her other purchases. She accumulated quite a pile by the time she chose something for the servers, Ruthie, each of the members of Ruthie’s family, and the kitchen dishwasher and her two children. But she deliberately left Mr. Ackerman’s gift unadorned by paper and ribbon. He was a no-nonsense man. Frippery seemed out of place for him. Besides, the stamped leather box was too fancy to hide beneath a layer of paper. “It’s fine as it is.”
Ruthie yawned. “Suit yourself.” She rolled onto her back, stretched, then rubbed her eyes and yawned again. “Ohhh, I’m Minnie this morning. I don’t want to get up.”
Dinah pushed to her feet, still holding the knife box in her fist. “Minnie is you, then. She’s already awake.”
Ruthie’s eyes widened. “She is? So early?”
“I saw her on the way to the outhouse awhile ago.” Dinah lit the lamp, hiding her smile when Ruthie scrunched her eyes shut against the yellow glow. Then she frowned. Had Minnie returned? Although the hotel was well built, she usually heard the click of doors closing. She didn’t recall hearing feet in the hallway or a door closing. But maybe Minnie had crept in quietly, the way Dinah had tried to do, to keep from disturbing those still sleeping.
She rounded the bed and removed her uniform from the wardrobe. Not until she was fully dressed and had tucked Mr. Ackerman’s gift into her pocket did Ruthie finally crawl out of bed. Dinah considered laughing at her roommate. She moved as slowly as a ninety-year-old woman. But considering the lack of sparkle she’d witnessed in Ruthie’s countenance of late, she decided laughing would be cruel. She should find a way to cheer her instead.
She clapped her palms together as an idea struck. “Would you like your present now?”
Ruthie stopped halfway across the floor. “But it isn’t Christmas yet.”
Dinah’s lips twitched as she battled a smile. “No, but I’m giving Mr. Ackerman his when he comes for lunch. So I could give you yours today.” Ruthie’s stoic expression didn’t soften. Dinah added, “That is, if … if you’d like.”
Ruthie’s brow furrowed. Several seconds ticked by while Dinah waited for Ruthie to make up her mind. Eagerness to bestow the present she’d sneaked to the cashier when Ruthie was busy shopping for her siblings made her want to wriggle out of her skin. She’d never realized how much fun could be found in giving gifts.
At last Ruthie heaved a mighty sigh. “All right. Yes. We can exchange gifts now.”
Dinah blinked in surprise. “Exchange?”
Ruthie drew back. “Yes. I got you something.”
A gift! Ruthie had gotten her a gift! Mr. Ackerman had indicated in his last letter he would be bringing her a “little something,” but he was trying to court her. She hadn’t expected a present from Ruthie, who had to buy presents for so many people in her family. The thought that Ruthie would buy something for her made her feel joyous, befuddled, and undeserving all at once. Tears stung Dinah’s eyes. “Y-you did?”
“Of course I did.” She inched around Dinah, moving toward the bureau. “I’ll get it.”
Dinah shook her head so hard her hair, which she hadn’t released from her nighttime braid, flipped up and whacked her on the side of the face. She tossed the thick plait over her shoulder with an impatient flick of her wrist. “No, please! I don’t want anything from you today. You’ll be getting presents tomorrow when you go see your family at dinnertime. So I want you to have mine today. But I—” For a moment sadness attacked. She swallowed and finished, “But I don’t have a family to visit tomorrow. And since Mr. Ackerman is coming today, I … I won’t have any other Christmas except with you. So may I wait until tomorrow?”
At first it seemed Ruthie would argue, but then she offered a slow nod. “All right, Dinah.” She sat on the bed, and an odd smile lifted one side of her lips. “I’m ready.”
With a little giggle Dinah dashed to the wardrobe and reached into the far corner. She pawed through the jumbled pile of presents and located the box intended for Ruthie. Another happy chortle left her throat as she plopped it into Ruthie’s hands. “There you are! Merry Christmas!”
Dinah perched next to Ruthie, holding her breath as Ruthie released the red ribbon and peeled away the green-sprigged paper to reveal a hinged velvet box. Ruthie sent a quick, puzzled glance at Dinah before snapping open the lid. Then she gasped and clapped her hand to her cheek. “Oh, it’s beautiful!” Ruthie gawked at Dinah, her eyes so wide Dinah could see her own happy reflection in Ruthie’s pupils.
Dinah hugged herself to hold on to the wonderful feeling coursing through her. “You like it?”
“Yes …” Ruthie’s fingers trembled as she lifted from its box the oval locket Dinah had selected.
So happy she couldn’t contain herself, Dinah began to babble. “It’s not solid gold. Only plated. And it’s rolled rather than etched. But the clerk said that’s a real diamond chip in the center of the flower. And inside there’s a place for a picture. Just one. I …” She took a deep breath, feeling as though she’d just run a race. “I thought, when you have a beau, you could put his photograph inside.”
Ruthie held the locket between her fingers and stared at it. The serpentine chain flowed across her wrist and swayed gently above her lap. “That’s a grand idea, Dinah.”
She frowned when she realized tears rolled down her roommate’s cheeks. “Ruthie? Why are you crying?”
Ruthie’s shoulders heaved with one sob. Then she took in a shuddering breath. “They are happy tears.”
“You don’t look happy.”
Ruthie licked her lips, wrapping her fist around the locket. “I am, though.” She turned to look directly into Dinah’s eyes. No joy lit her expression. “It’s a wonderful gift. Thank you.”
Confused by Ruthie’s reaction, Dinah stood and looked uncertainly at the chain dangling from Ruthie’s tight grasp. “You’re … you’re welcome.” She glanced at the clock and gave a start. “Oh, it’s almost six. We’d better finish getting ready before we miss breakfast.”
Ruthie nodded and rose. Dinah moved to the mirror and began brushing out her hair. In the mirror’s reflection, she observed Ruthie uncurl her fist and stare down at the locket resting in her palm. She expected her roommate to slip the chain over her head, but after several seconds of seeming intense concentration, Ruthie returned the necklace to its box and put it in her pocket.
A disappointment more intense than she’d ever experienced—and her life had been filled with disappointments—smote Dinah. She’d been so sure Ruthie would love the locket. But apparently she didn’t like it at all. Why else would she hide it away? Blinking back tears, Dinah finished fashioning her hair in its familiar coil, then moved to the door. “I’ll see you downstairs.” Without waiting for a reply, she hurried into the hallway.
On the other side of the closed door, she allowed one tear to slide down her cheek. Ruthie hadn’t liked her gift. Dinah’s hand went to her pocket where Mr. Ackerman’s box waited. She hoped he would like the knife. If he didn’t, she’d never buy a present for anyone ever again.
Amos
Had he made a mistake? Amos waited beside the lunch counter for Dinah to join him. His hip ached fiercely and he wanted to sit, but uncertainty kept him from relaxing. The gift he’d chosen burned in his coat pocket like a hot coal, and he was tempted to toss it out onto the snow-dusted yard and pretend he’d forgotten her gift at home.
When he’d picked it, he was so sure it was the right thing to do. Although their acquaintance was short, although they’d had very little time to spend together, he felt as though he’d been waiting for a girl like her for years. A girl who would look past his limp and see the man. A girl who was gentle, kind, humble, of like-minded faith. Who wanted a family as badly as he did.
And now he’d found her. The eagerness to make her his stole his sleep at night and his focus during the da
y. He couldn’t marry her. Not yet. She was too young. He still had much work on his farm to accomplish. But he wanted to know she would one day be his. He wanted the promise. His gift was meant to be a promise from him to her—a promise of his intentions. If she accepted it, she would pledge to save herself for him. But was she ready to make such a promise?
His heart might pound out of his chest if he didn’t settle down. He paced back and forth, willing his racing pulse to calm. Others entered the hotel, shuddering as they left the chill behind, and filed to the lunch counter. The stools quickly filled, and Dinah hadn’t come down yet. Amos moved to the wall and leaned against it, his gaze aimed at the hallway leading to the guest rooms. Nervousness made his stomach churn. Had Dinah forgotten they were supposed to meet? Maybe he wouldn’t have to give her his gift after all. Maybe he would have time to find something else. He could save the gift he now carried for another time. Later. Next year.
“Mr. Ackerman?”
Amos jolted. Dinah stood before him in her uniform, her head tipped in puzzlement. How had he missed her coming up the hall? Now that he gazed down at her—at her sweet, innocent face—how could he possibly wait to offer his promise and receive hers?
“I’m sorry I’m late. I had to finish a room before I could come for lunch.” She glanced at the counter, her face pursing in regret. “Oh, all the seats are taken.”
His tongue seemed stuck to the roof of his mouth. He cleared his throat. “We can wait for seats to open.”
“But that might not be until my break is over.” Dinah brightened. “I know! We’ll take plates to the chambermaids’ little parlor. It will be quiet there.”
The thought of finding a private spot to exchange their gifts appealed to him. If she refused it, at least there wouldn’t be witnesses.
She went on, lifting her shoulders in an apologetic gesture. “That is, if you don’t mind holding your plate in your lap. There’s not a table suitable for dining.”
Through the Deep Waters Page 24