An Amish Christmas Quilt (5 page)

Very quietly, Seth slipped away from the
dawdi haus
with his toolbox.

“How much do we owe you?” Mary called after him.

Seth closed his eyes against the funny things her voice did to him. When he opened them again, Mary was standing in the doorway holding her baby in one arm as she grasped the edges of the quilt to keep it wrapped around them. “Only took me ten minutes. No charge,” he replied.

“But you took time out of your day to help us,” she protested.

Seth considered his answer. Mary had no money to spare for such minor emergencies, yet her earnest expression told him she'd feel beholden if he refused payment. He decided to ease his way out of this situation by changing the subject. “That's a mighty nice Christmas quilt. I like the bold reds and greens.”

Mary's expression wilted. “I . . . I made it for my first Christmas as a Kauffman, and gave it to Elmer last year, but—well, I don't guess he'll be using it again. Probably too early to be getting it out, but—”

“Better to enjoy it yourself than to hide it away. And staying cuddly and warm is always in season, what with a few flakes in the air these days.” Seth sighed. It seemed he had a talent for starting uncomfortable conversations. “I'll leave you to your rocking now. Didn't mean to disturb you and the baby.”

“Ya can't disturb me any more than I already am.”

Seth had been turning to leave, but he stopped. Took a closer look at Mary Kauffman, whose troubles surely stacked up a lot higher than his did. “I'm sorry for your loss, Mary,” he murmured. “I can't imagine—”

“So don't,” she interrupted emphatically. “Don't go thinkin' about my loss, or how to fix what's wrong in my life, or how to win over the kids to get my attention, because I'll have none of that. It is what it is, Elmer's death. I'll get by.”

As Mary returned to her rocking chair, Seth stood stock-still. She'd clearly told him to go fly a kite, yet beneath her independent, stoic tone he'd heard longing and loneliness. She was tougher than she looked, yet at her age—with three little kids—she was dooming herself to a life of scraping by, depending upon the charity of her parents—

C
HAPTER
4

“That's gonna be a real pretty quilt,” Miriam remarked as she looked over Mary's shoulder. “I've seen a lot of Star of Bethlehem patterns, but this one's a real eye-catcher in just red, cream, and two shades of green.”

Mary carefully rolled her circular blade over a stack of fabric, around the four sides of her template. “I chose this one because it's the simplest,” she replied. “It's made with bigger house-shaped pieces and diamonds, instead of dozens of itty-bitty diamonds. It just looks . . . stronger. No-nonsense.”

If Miriam asked, Mary was going to tell her that this quilt had seemed like the perfect therapy—a nice pastime while Emmanuel still slept a lot. She was toying with the idea of giving it to Seth Brenneman as payment for all of his kindnesses . . . not the least of which was rescuing her and Sol and Lucy the day she'd passed out on the road. But if she changed her mind—if she decided Seth would get
ideas
from such a gift—she could always tell Lucy it would be hers someday.

“And that means a lot fewer seams to sew and edges to tuck,” her aunt remarked with a grin. “Will ya have enough fabric, or shall I get some more? The quilt shop's got a nice sale on this poly-cotton now.”

“You've done too much for us already,” Mary protested. “I've got a little cash laid by—”

“No such thing as doing
too much
for you and your kids, Mary,” Miriam insisted. “It's a blessing to me, spendin' time with Lucy and Sol and seein' how Emmanuel's growing like a little weed. Such a happy boy, he is.”

Did she dare tell her aunt what she'd been thinking about as she cut and sewed the blocks for this quilt? Mary gathered her courage and decided that now, while no one else was within earshot, was a good time to sound out her idea. “
Jah
, the baby's happy, and I've been happy here, too, Aunt Miriam, so—so I'm thinking of selling Elmer's farm in Bowling Green. Maybe finding a little house in Willow Ridge.”

Miriam landed on the bench beside her with an
oof
and leaned her elbows on the table. “And what's put
that
bee in your bonnet, child? Your family's all in Bowling—”

“My family wants to breathe down my neck every minute, thinking I can't manage for myself—and telling me every little thing I should do,” Mary retorted. “And while Elmer's kin mean well, they're the same way. And besides,
you
are my family, too, Aunt Miriam. I don't intend to live in your
dawdi haus
forever, but these past two months have given me time to think for myself. And you know how Dat feels about a woman doing that. Especially when she's only twenty.”

Miriam chuckled richly. “Mose gets smothery sometimes,” she agreed. Then a slow smile spread across her face. “Ya wouldn't be leanin' this way on account of a certain plumber here in town—”

“Absolutely not!” Mary declared. “I told Seth to keep his eyes and ideas to himself because I'm not interested in him or any other fella. You can ask him.”

“I just might.” With a knowing smile, Miriam rose from the table. “We've got church at the Brenneman place tomorrow, and I hope you'll come along, Mary. With Emmanuel bein' two months old now, folks are expectin' him—and you—to start circulatin'. And if you're thinkin' to stay in Willow Ridge, goin' to church'll be the best way to meet folks and figure out if this is really where ya want to live.”

Mary couldn't argue with her aunt's logic. It would be a big mistake to rush into another major life change, just to escape the close confines of her parents' plans for her future. After all, she'd decided to marry Elmer partly to defy them, and only
after
she'd become his wife had she realized what a challenge it was to step into another woman's shoes when two young children were involved. She loved Sol and Lucy dearly, but she hadn't anticipated their resistance to her . . . hadn't figured on losing her husband before they'd been married a year, either.

Mary sighed. Such thoughts had played tug-of-war in her mind ever since Elmer had died, and when she dwelled on them, she only got more depressed. It wasn't as though her husband had ever raised his voice or his hand to her. Elmer had been levelheaded and a good money manager. In retrospect, she suspected she'd been too young and naïve—with a head full of romantic notions—to understand the family dynamics she'd married into. Their difficult relationship had been as much her fault as his . . . but those times were behind her now.

Mary placed her diamond template over the stack of fabric to cut more pieces. “You're right,” she told Miriam. “It's time the four of us Kauffmans went to church. Sol shouldn't be the only one who's out amongst other folks.”

“Glad to hear it. And what with it bein' the first Sunday of Advent, we'll be lookin' to find the Savior,” Miriam remarked in a thoughtful tone. “Before ya know it, we'll start bakin' cookies and bringin' in evergreen branches and puttin' out the Nativity scenes. It's my favorite time of the year.”

It used to be mine, too,
Mary thought as Miriam rose from the table.
But this year? Not so much.

The key would be to stay so busy she had no time for caving in to crying jags—which was the main reason she'd started this Star of Bethlehem quilt. Or so she told herself.

As she cut more pieces, Mary mentally prepared for attending church tomorrow at the Brenneman place. If she focused on meeting the other women, who would be fussing over Emmanuel and getting acquainted with Lucy and Sol, she wouldn't have to work at avoiding Seth. She could keep busy putting out the common meal after the service. She'd met the bishop, Tom Hostetler, at Miriam and Ben's wedding, and Ben's older sisters, Jerusalem and Nazareth, had already come to see her, just as Miriam's girls, Rachel, Rhoda, and Rebecca, had.

If she concentrated on expanding this little circle of friends and family, it would fill her day with talk of food and kids. She'd have no time to be riveted by a winsome male smile or two eyes that seemed to peer into her soul, so she'd have no concerns about a fellow who'd seen her at her very worst and most defenseless.

 

Seth smiled as he peered out the front window. He'd watched for Mary Kauffman the last two church Sundays and had been disappointed, but this morning she was coming up the porch steps with Miriam and Lucy! It was tradition for the women to enter through the kitchen while the men came in the front room, but what fun would life be if he always followed tradition? Ben was steering Sol toward where the men were congregating, so Seth headed for the kitchen to enjoy a few moments of Mary's company without the boy's negativity clouding their conversation.

Ignoring the surprised expressions on the women's faces, Seth made his way among them to the door. His heart was thumping, and he hoped he wouldn't make a fool of himself. He was just being pleasant and polite, welcoming this young woman to his home for the first time, after all. “
Gut
morning to you, Miriam—and to you, too, Mary and Lucy!” he said as he opened the door for them. “It's
gut
to see you out on this sunny December day.”

Miriam's expression suggested that she knew what he was up to, but Seth didn't care. What safer place to get better acquainted with Mary than here in his mother's kitchen, among all these clucking hens? He tried not to notice how bashful Lucy looked, and how she clung to her
mamm
's skirts as she gawked at him and all the strangers in the kitchen.

“We're happy to be here,” Mary replied—and then she passed Emmanuel to him. “Hang on to my son while I take off my coat. I figured his carrier would be too bulky in this crowd.”

Seth sucked in his breath as he grasped the blanketed baby. What if he dropped him? What if Emmanuel started bawling at the top of his lungs? The women around him would get a good laugh out of that. Handling an infant was second nature to them, whereas
he
couldn't recall the last time he'd held one. With everyone jostling him to get a look at Mary's boy, Seth tucked Emmanuel against his side, along the length of his left forearm. He cradled the baby's wee head in his hand.

“Oh, would you look at this fine little fella!”

“What a lot of hair he has!”

“And he's bein' so
gut
and quiet in this crowded room, too.”

“That's because Emmanuel knows he's in solid, strong hands.” Miriam smiled up at Seth, and then she
winked!

Seth took that as a high compliment—just as Mary's trust in him was nothing short of amazing. As he began swaying slightly from side to side, Emmanuel made cooing sounds and began to wiggle. Then his smile came out like the sun on this December day.

Seth couldn't breathe, couldn't stop gazing at the tiny boy who was so raptly looking back at him. The voices around them faded, and he drank in the baby's rosy skin and shining eyes. Emmanuel looked a lot cuter and more animated than when he'd first been born.

The baby seemed alert and aware of him, but Seth didn't feel the need to talk. Communication flowed between them on a different level, and Seth suddenly felt enthralled—downright ecstatic. When he held out his finger and Emmanuel grabbed hold of it, complete and utter love flooded Seth's soul.
Tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy . . .

“What's a man got to do to see his grandson?” A booming voice filled the kitchen. “Two months old he is, and I have yet to lay eyes on him.”

All thoughts of Christmas carols vanished as Miriam's brother, Preacher Moses Miller, entered the kitchen with his wife, Lovinia, as well as Miriam's two other sisters from Bowling Green, and their husbands. Judging from Mary's stricken expression, they hadn't told her they were coming. Seth's arm instinctively tightened around Emmanuel as the ladies who'd been standing around him stepped away—

Except for Miriam. Her brown eyes took on a determined shine as she stood taller beside Seth. “So when did
you
folks arrive?” she asked in a strained voice. “And why didn't ya tell us ya were comin', so ya could've stayed at our place?”

“It seems we're not the
only
ones who haven't picked up the phone or dropped a line lately,” Preacher Mose replied as he gazed sternly at his daughter. “Leah and Dan made us welcome at their place.”

Leah Kanagy, Miriam's sister, slipped in the kitchen door behind her siblings and in-laws as though it hadn't been
her
idea to keep Mose's visit a secret.

Seth now understood why Miriam had referred to Mary's
dat
as overbearing. Mose Miller wasn't a tall man, but his chiseled face, broad shoulders, and barrel chest gave him a daunting air. While he kept a congregation awake with his dramatic sermons, Mose was showing a side Seth hadn't noticed when he'd preached at Ben and Miriam's wedding ceremony. Miriam's brother didn't seem very patient or forgiving—and what a shame that he'd chosen to cause a scene this morning, just when Mary was getting out among other people.

“We should be preparin' our hearts to worship the Lord—and we shouldn't keep Bishop Tom and the others waitin',” Seth said as he continued to sway with Emmanuel. “Let's resume this discussion after the service.”

Seth had no idea what had prompted him to make such a statement—to challenge a preacher, no less. The words had come to him out of the blue, or maybe from divine inspiration, and he maintained his eye contact even as Preacher Mose glared at him.

“And who are
you
to interfere in this family matter—while you hold my grandson?” Mary's
dat
demanded.

“Seth Brenneman,” he replied as he extended his hand. “And while you're a guest in my home, Mose, I'd appreciate it if you'd lower your voice. Emmanuel's not used to folks squabblin'. I suspect he's gonna cry—”

Indeed, the boy's wail filled the kitchen like a fire siren as his face turned a distressed shade of red. Mary stepped up and cradled Emmanuel against her shoulder. She looked ready to cry, too, as she comforted her son with baby talk.

“I think Seth said it just right,” Miriam agreed as she looked at the women gathered in the kitchen. “It's time for church. Let's take our places.”

Just then, the bishop poked his head through the kitchen door. “Mose Miller! Thought I heard your voice,” he said cheerfully. “It's a privilege to have ya amongst us, and we'd like ya to join us up front today.”

Seth relaxed when Preacher Mose accepted Tom's invitation. As Mose's two brothers-in-law followed him into the front room, the ladies in the kitchen let out a collective sigh of relief. Mary's mother, Lovinia, stepped closer to gaze at her new grandson with an expression of joy tinged with regret.

“It's so
gut
to see you and this precious wee one,” she murmured to Mary. “I tried to tell your
dat
we had no call to come bustin' in here on the sly—”

“It's okay, Mama,” Mary replied, glancing at her two visiting aunts. “It's not like he said anything untrue, because I—I
haven't
called you. Let's go in for church, and you can all visit with Emmanuel during the service.”

Mary's visiting aunts, Deborah and Mattie, smiled brightly and then followed Miriam into the front room. Mary gestured for her
mamm
to precede her. Then she turned to Seth.