Heart in Hand: Stitches in Time Series #3 (21 page)

“White hot chocolate?” Gideon asked, looking interested.

“Sorry, should I have asked if you wanted that instead of coffee?”

“I guess men can’t drink white hot chocolate.”

“We’ll still think you’re a manly man,” Anna teased him. “How about I bring you a cup of each?”

“Sounds great.”

Sarah Rose leaned against the counter in the kitchen as Anna heated water in the teakettle. “How can it be chocolate if it’s white?”

“I don’t know. But it is.” Anna poured the hot water into mugs and, on a whim, reached for candy canes sitting in a jar nearby. “To stir with,” she told Sarah Rose. “Help me pull the cellophane off them.”

Anna had never seen the
kind’s
eyes so big. She watched as Anna put the mugs on a tray and pouted only a little when Anna said she couldn’t carry the tray because the chocolate was hot and she didn’t want to risk Sarah Rose burning herself. When Anna handed her a plate of sugar cookies, the little girl was pacified and proudly carried it into the other room.

Sarah Rose sat on the sofa, took one look at the presents piled on a nearby table, and immediately forgot about the white chocolate.

“Can we open our presents first?” she asked her father.

“Drink your chocolate first. But blow on it to cool it down before you drink it.”

“Just one?” Dutifully she blew on the chocolate.

“After.”

Sarah Rose looked to Anna, but Anna quickly picked up the plate of cookies and offered it to Gideon. She didn’t want to interfere in his parenting . . . well, she’d convinced him to change his decisions regarding his daughter before, but she couldn’t do it all the time.

Oh, but it
was
Christmas.

She pushed the plate closer to Gideon.

“Thanks, I have one.”

“Have another,” she said and, with a tilt of her head in Sarah Rose’s direction, raised her eyebrows and sent him a silent message. She saw him look at his daughter, and his lips quirked as he studied her little cheeks puffing in and out as she blew like mad on the hot drink.

“An ice cube would probably make that cool off faster,” Anna said casually.

Sarah Rose looked up, her eyes widening. “It would.”

“Maybe if you went into the kitchen and asked Leah very nicely she’d give you an ice cube.”

The child bounded up and started out of the room, then raced back and hugged Anna, almost making her spill her drink. “
Danki
, Anna!”

She watched her head for the kitchen and then looked at Gideon. She found him watching her.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You said you needed more time. You didn’t say no.”

Anna nodded. “No, I didn’t.”

Sarah Rose returned with a cup with two ice cubes. Anna saw Leah peeking out from the kitchen, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. Apparently, Sarah Rose had a coconspirator
in the cooling off the hot chocolate so she could open presents faster.

Anna had wondered if Sarah Rose would like her present of a book on knitting, but the child unwrapped it and immediately became excited, flipping through the pages of projects for children. She chattered with Anna about which project they’d do first while Gideon unwrapped his present, a navy blue cardigan sweater Anna had designed and knitted for him. He took off his suit jacket and immediately put it on, exclaiming over its workmanship and warmth. Anna felt warmed by his appreciation and thought he’d never looked more handsome.

“Now it’s your turn,” Sarah Rose announced and set her book down. She pushed the box she’d put near Anna’s feet closer to her. “This is from
Daedi
and me.”

Anna tore at the paper, pulled open the flaps of the box, and dug through wadded up tissue paper to reveal a footstool, the wooden legs beautifully carved, the top covered with a simple cross-stitch pattern with slightly crooked letters.

“
Daedi
made the stool and I did the top,” Sarah Rose told her, kneeling beside her on the floor and running a hand over it. “He said you have to be on your feet all day at work so you can put your feet up on this. You can take it to work or keep it at your house.”

Anna felt tears well up in her eyes.

“
Daedi
, she doesn’t like it!” Sarah Rose cried, distressed.

“I love it,” Anna said, reaching to hug her. “I love it so much.” She looked at Gideon and saw that he was watching her with that quiet air of his, but the expression in his eyes spoke volumes.

He loved her. She had no doubt of that. And his child sitting beside him, looking at her so expectantly—she loved her, too.

It was the best gift she could have been given.

14

Jamie walked into Stitches in Time frowning, her mouth downturned, and her shoulders slumped.

Curious, Anna followed her into the back room and watched her put away her things.

“Something wrong?”

“I didn’t have a very good Christmas.” She poured herself a mug of coffee from the percolator on the stove and sat down, wrapping her hands around the mug to warm them. “I know we’re supposed to tell ourselves it’s the thought that counts but I don’t think a lot of thought went into the things I got for Christmas.”

Then she looked stricken. “Oh, I didn’t mean you or anyone from the shop. I loved my presents I got from all of you.”

Her hand went to the purple beret on her head. “I love this. You know I do. And the throw that Mary Katherine made for my sofa is so nice to wrap around me when I study. The quilted placemats Naomi sewed make my hand-me-down wood table look so cute.

“And the little doll that Leah sewed that looked like me . . .”, she trailed off. “Well, that was the sweetest, most unexpected
present.” She frowned. “Okay, that’s why I was so disappointed in the other gifts I got. They weren’t as thoughtful.”

Anna patted her shoulder and reached over to the counter for the box of cinnamon rolls she’d brought to work. She opened the box and held it open under Jamie’s nose. “Not everyone has the time or interest in making a gift.”

Jamie chose a roll, took a healthy bite of it, and closed her eyes in appreciation. “Yeah, well, one aunt gave me a boxed set of perfume and bath oil. Half of it had evaporated because the box sat in the local drugstore for so long. I told my mom I needed a plain cardigan I could wear with everything, and she got me a ski sweater with reindeer on it for goodness’ sake.”

Anna sat down. It was early, and the front door was still locked. Once the sign on the door was flipped to “open” there would be a big after-Christmas sale rush. “What are you really upset about?” she asked gently.

“How’d you know it wasn’t the gifts?” Jamie asked, staring into the coffee with a glum expression.

“Because I know you.”

“I went to my parents for Christmas supper, and all they did was argue. Mom had to tell everyone how hard she’d worked since sunup on the big supper and Dad—well, never mind. Both of them kinda ruined things by bickering.”

She sighed. “I was just hoping it would be different this year. That everyone would remember the reason for the season, you know? Sometimes it can be hard to be around family during the holidays.”

Then she gasped. “I’m sorry! Talk about putting my foot in my mouth! I didn’t mean—”

Anna bent down and hugged her. “It’s all right. I know what you meant. You’ve told me about your family and how they’ve hurt you, especially during the holidays. You’ll change that.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“One day you’ll have a family of your own, and you’ll make the holiday what it should be. You’re already starting by wanting things to be better.”

Jamie bit her lip, and then when Anna nodded encouragement, a slow smile bloomed on her face. “You’re right. It’s when we stay content with what we don’t want that things don’t change.”

She tilted her head and studied Anna. “Love looks good on you.”

Anna blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I know the Amish are quiet about dating and getting engaged. But it’s sure no secret the way you feel about Gideon and Sarah Rose.”

Anna felt a blush steal over her. “No?”

“No,” Jamie said definitely. She rose and put her cup on the counter, then turned and hugged Anna. “I’m happy for you.”

Tilting her head, she gave Anna a sly look. “I don’t suppose you got engaged at Christmas?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me?”

Anna grinned. “Maybe.”

Mary Katherine rushed into the room, breathless. She shed her coat and put her purse away in a cupboard, then turned back to the others, her expression happy and expectant. “Glad you’re all here early. Got something to tell you. Let me get the others.”

She walked over to the doorway. “Naomi? Get Grandmother and come back here.”

When everyone gathered in the room, she grinned at their expectant faces. “I have an announcement. Jacob and I are going to have a baby!”

“That’s your announcement?” Anna couldn’t resist asking. “We all guessed that at least a month ago.”

Mary Katherine’s face fell. “You knew? How did you know?”

“The usual signs,” Naomi said dryly. “The secret looks you and Jacob exchange when you think no one’s looking. No coffee. The constant eating and the way you’ve been drinking milk at every meal—especially the drinking of glasses and glasses of milk. And you haven’t complained about that monthly visitor that has given you such trouble for ages now.”

“I see,” Mary Katherine said after a moment. “I had no idea you were so observant.”

Leah hugged her. “We’re happy for you.”

Naomi and Anna and Jamie gathered her in a group hug. “Us, too.”

“I don’t understand why you waited to tell us,” Jamie told her, finishing her coffee and setting her mug in the sink.

Mary Katherine shrugged. “I remember my
mamm
had several miscarriages. I just felt I wanted to wait until we were sure things were okay.”

Leah looped her arm around Mary Katherine’s waist and hugged her. “You’ll be just fine.” She glanced at the clock, then at everyone. “It’s that time. Are you all ready for the after-Christmas sale?”

Jamie took a deep breath and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The trees were stark and bare against the gray winter sky. A light snow fell, swirling through the branches and softening them, piling softly against the sharp edges of the tombstones.

Anna carefully picked her way along the path between the stones, noting new ones among the old ones. Up ahead she saw a particularly poignant grave—one that still made her
sad—was the grave of Lina, a cousin of hers, who’d died just days after her tenth birthday from a buggy accident.

And just ahead, the simple, unadorned grave of her husband, Samuel.

The sight brought a pang of grief as it always did. She knelt in the snow and brushed the flakes that had accumulated in the letters carved into the stone with her gloved hand: “Husband.” Not “Husband” and “Father.” She regretted that almost as much as his death. How she’d longed to have a child with this man so full of life and laughter.

How she’d struggled with God’s will. Why give her the gift of this
mann
He’d set aside for her only to yank him back to heaven such a short time later?

Yes, heaven. That was where she knew Samuel dwelled now. She knew he was in a better place, but for so long she’d fought against that. She’d wanted him to be with her. She
needed
him to be with her.

Schur
, she’d learned to live without him. She didn’t know how a person did that when her heart had been ripped out of her body, but somehow she’d learned to do without it.

Until a certain man and his little girl who’d been acting out because she missed her mother came along.

“I’ve been seeing this man,” Anna began. “You remember Gideon. I think it started because we both lost our spouses.”

She frowned. “Well, maybe a little. For me it began with a little girl who lost her mother. You see, I didn’t just lose you, Samuel. I lost that little girl and that little boy I always wanted to have with you when you died.”

She found herself telling Samuel about Sarah Rose, about how she misbehaved to get attention, but what a sweet child she was.

“Jenny said that she fell in love with Matthew’s
kinner
before she fell in love with him,” she told Samuel. “I fell in love with that little girl before I fell in love with Gideon.”

She looked up at the sky and watched snowflakes falling to the ground without a sound. She felt such peace here.

“Yes, I finally did what you insisted I must.” She sighed. “Remember, we never argued. Well, except when you wanted to be too protective. I did as you asked. I hope you’re happy. I didn’t care if I ever met someone else and fell in love.”

She frowned and wiped away more of the snow that had fallen on the gravestone. “You remember Gideon. You always liked him. He and Mary were like you and me. We were so involved with each other that we barely saw anyone else.” She sighed. “Maybe that was good. You and Mary are already gone. At least we had those years.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone moving in the cemetery. She looked up and realized that Gideon was walking between rows of headstones with Sarah Rose, who couldn’t be heard but was clearly chattering a mile a minute.