Huckleberry Christmas (14 page)

“I don’t think so.”

“And then you can help me make cheese while the cake bakes.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Erla is the one who helps you with cheese.”

“She knows less about making cheese than I do. Besides, she and Menno are in Shawano today. I don’t need Erla’s help. I need you.”

Looking pleased with herself, Beth backed away from him and pulled a green apron from her bag. “Of course I’ll help. The shut-ins deserve a lovely goodie basket.”

He couldn’t contain a wide smile. “I’m so glad I ruined that batch.”

Her blush deepened. “I can see right through your flattery, Tyler Yoder. It will not work on me. There’s nothing stopping you from going to the market and buying four perfectly good blocks of cheese.”

Tyler sat at the counter, and Beth told him funny stories while she stirred the cake batter. Her hands fascinated him; the way she moved them so gracefully made him think of a bird in flight. Who knew anyone could make stirring eggs and flour so enchanting? And he couldn’t get enough of her mouth. Surely her lips were as soft as rose petals.

A powerful yearning clamped around his throat until he felt he couldn’t breathe. He averted his eyes and studied his hands. His patience was slipping, along with his control. How much longer could he bear to go without her as his wife?

Unaware of the storm raging inside him, Beth meticulously arranged pineapple slices in the bottom of her pan and allowed Tyler to place a cherry in the center of each one. He’d never been so careful about anything in his life because he refused to be responsible for ruining Beth’s pineapple upside-down cake.

When all was ready, he opened the door, and she held her breath as she slid the pan into the oven.

“It’s going to be delicious,” Tyler assured her. He could see how anxious she felt about it.

“There’ll be plenty of whipped cream on hand, in any case.” She set the timer and dusted off her hands. “Now, should we get started on the cheese?”

“I didn’t even ask if you have time today. Cheese takes a few hours.”

“Would your mamm mind if Toby took a nap here?”

“Have you got to get back to your sewing?”

She shrugged and smiled warmly. “I have four dresses to cut out tonight. It won’t take long. I have a fancy new rotary cutter that makes cutting a breeze.”

The roundabout expression of gratitude didn’t escape Tyler’s notice. His heart swelled as big as the sky. “A professional needs the right tools.”

The glow in her face was unmistakable. He wanted to see that look every day of his life.

“I assume you have milk.”

“Two gallons raw and unpasteurized ready in the mudroom.”

He fetched the milk and the pot he’d bought especially for making cheese. Erla’s plan for ensnaring both Menno and Beth had been expensive.

Beth set the cheese pot to boil on the stove. Tyler showed her where all the utensils were, and Beth placed them in the boiling water to sterilize.

“I never boiled anything before when I made cheese,” Tyler said. “Is that what I did wrong?”

“There are really so many things you could have done wrong,” Beth teased, “that it will make your brain hurt thinking about them.”

“My brain already hurts.”

“Do you have a thermometer?”

He pulled the cooking thermometer out of the drawer. “Of course. Erla and Menno made sure we had all the right equipment.”

Once the utensils were sterilized, Beth poured the hot water into a larger pot and nested the cheese pot inside it. She grinned at Tyler as she measured out the right amount of milk and poured it into the pot. “It’s very convenient to have your own dairy when you want to make cheese.”

Tyler wiped some drops of milk from the counter and tried to be casual about his next question. “You say you used to make cheese for your mother-in-law?”

“Almost every week when she went through chemotherapy. The cheese had to be cheddar, made by me. And certainly not from the store.”

“She sounds demanding.”

Beth pressed her lips together and hooked the thermometer over the lip of the pan. “Sick people can be that way. Treva was terrified, and she took her fear out on the people around her.” She busied herself stirring the milk that didn’t need to be stirred. “I got another letter from Isaac,” she added softly.

Tyler clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists but quickly shoved them in his pockets. Beth mustn’t see his anger. “How is he?”

“He says Treva is feeling poorly again, and she wants me to come back.”

Tyler didn’t miss the fear that traveled across her face.

Studying his expression, she leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “Would you still be my friend if I told you I don’t want to go back, even if Treva is dying?”

His heart beat against his chest in indignation. “Why would you go back? They treated you like dirt. You don’t have to justify yourself to anyone, Beth, least of all me. It would be terrible if you threw yourself back into that abuse. Terrible for you and bad for Toby.”

“Treva says I’m selfish.”

“She wants to make you feel guilty when you’ve done nothing wrong.”

Her eyes filled with doubt. “Can you be certain I’ve done nothing wrong? Ruth refused to leave Naomi, and she’s got her own book in the Bible.”

“I imagine Naomi was a nice mother who never demanded cheddar cheese from her daughter-in-law.”

Beth cracked a smile. “She seems that way.” She checked the thermometer, then sprinkled the culture into the warm milk and put the lid on the pot. “It needs to ripen for half an hour.” She wiped her hands down her apron. “I haven’t told anyone else about the letters.”

“I’m glad you trust me enough to share it.”

“Isaac thinks I’m weak. I never put up a fight with Amos. It would have been wrong for me to go against my husband.”

“I disagree.”

“But it’s why your letter upset me. To Isaac, it was more proof that I can’t watch out for myself, that I need an abusive, controlling man to take care of me.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing anyone can do or say will make Isaac think better of me. Even if I sold a million dresses and became president of my own factory, he’d still see me as a child who needs correction.”

“I think he’s despicable.”

The ghost of a smile played at her mouth before she turned her face away. “He thinks he loves me because I’d be a manageable wife. But he doesn’t realize how I’ve changed. I’m not so meek anymore. If I were his wife, I’d only frustrate and anger him. He doesn’t realize I’m doing him a favor by refusing his proposal.”

“I hate to think how bad it was for you there.”

“At least Treva needed me. Nobody needs me in Bonduel. I’m more of a burden than anything else.”

Tyler tried not to sound cross. “That’s absurd, Beth. Anna and Felty need you. Toby couldn’t live without you. Your family needs you.” Dare he say it and risk scaring her away? “I need you.”

Beth fell silent and made a show of measuring the salt for the third time. She looked at him and smiled playfully. “Jah, you need me all right. I am the only person who can save your gift baskets.” She had decided to make light of it. He supposed it was better than getting mad and storming out of his house.

“I am grateful.”

She swiped some crumbs off the counter. “I sound so whiny.”

“Not at all.”

“I shouldn’t complain about my in-laws. What’s in the past is better left in the past.”

“What happened hurt you very deeply. Thank you for trusting me enough to talk about it.”

They both jumped when the timer clanged like a fire engine. Beth opened the oven door and stuck a toothpick into the center of the cake. “It’s done,” she said, dread mixing with anticipation in her voice. She donned two heavy oven mitts and pulled her cake from the oven.

Tyler shut the door for her as she placed the cake on a trivet on the counter. “It smells delicious.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

She hurried to her bag and pulled a rectangular dish from the bottom. “This is the most important part. We’ve got to turn the cake upside-down onto this plate. Everything depends on it.”

“What can I do?”

She shaped her mouth into a teasing grin. “Maybe you should stand back.”

He pressed his back against the wall.

With her mitts on, she laid the plate over the top of the cake. Keeping her thumbs against the bottom of the plate, she pressed the bottom of the cake pan with her outstretched fingers, lifted the cake, and turned the whole thing over in one fluid motion.

They both held their breath as she gave the pan a little tap and slowly lifted it away from the plate.

“Oh my,” Beth said.

Breathing in the aroma rising from the steaming hot cake, Tyler marveled at the stunning pattern of pineapple circles and cherries. “It worked.”

“No sunken middles or crumbly corners.” Showing her irresistible dimple, Beth did a little hop and clapped her hands. “It looks like a picture from a recipe book.”

“And I think the cherries look especially tasty.”

“I had my doubts, but I decided to take a risk on you. I’m glad I did.”

She was joking with him, of course, but Tyler’s heart skipped a beat.

If only she would. He would make her the happiest woman alive. A smudge of flour dusted her cheek, and he had to clamp his arms around his waist to keep from brushing the white powder off that silky skin. His gut clenched. She hadn’t given him any encouragement, and if he acted rashly, he’d scare her away. He wanted to marry Beth so badly, he could already taste the bitterness of rejection in his mouth.

He swallowed hard. “What now?”

“Now we let the cake cool while we finish the cheese. Rennet is next.”

Tyler picked up the small bottle of liquid rennet and handed it to her. He should stick with the plan. Erla had a gute plan. “Will you come caroling with us Friday night?”

“Caroling is for the young people.”

“I’m the same age as you, and I’m going.”

“I feel years older,” Beth said.

“Well, you’re not. I really want you to come.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It’s a huge caroling party. Probably thirty of us are going. There’ll be hot chocolate and cider and donuts.”

“Why do you want me to come? Erla will be there.”

“And Menno.”

She furrowed her brow.

Tyler placed a hand on the counter and leaned toward her. Better to smell her enticing scent that way. “It won’t be fun without you.” As he stared at her mouth, the longing attacked him with renewed force. “And you’re making the cheese. You should at least be there to help us give it away.”

Her breathing became shallow as her gaze wandered to his mouth. That slight movement of her eyes sent the blood racing through his veins. “I see,” she mumbled.

They stood like that for mere moments, but Tyler felt the yearning of a whole lifetime in her face.

She scooted away from him around the edge of the counter as if she needed to hold onto it to keep herself from falling. “It’s time.... We’re ready for the rennet.”

Remembering to breathe, Tyler took a step back and handed her the bottle. “Is that a yes to the caroling?”

She seemed to regain her composure as she mixed a spoonful of rennet with some water. “Jah, I will come. Since I am a widow, I can act as a chaperone to any of die youngie bent on mischief.”

“What if I’m bent on mischief?”

“Then you will get a scolding.”

He smiled. “I’ve had a few of those.”

She smiled back. “You’ve deserved every one. Here, take the lid off for me.”

Tyler lifted the lid as she poured the rennet-water mixture into the milk. “I would be lost without you, Beth.”

Her eyes twinkled merrily. “Not really. You can buy cheese at the store. But I’m glad I could help.”

He lost his head and took her hand. “Nae. I mean it. I would be lost without you.”

She looked into his eyes and quickly pulled her hand away. Clearing her throat, she said, “Don’t thank me yet. We don’t know how it’s going to turn out.”

No. He didn’t know how things would turn out. He watched as Beth stirred the milk. He wanted her for his wife more than the desert wanted moisture. He would keep hoping and praying. Surely Heaven and Erla Glick would help him out.

Beth felt as old as a schoolmarm. Davy Miller, who had just turned sixteen, and his friend Junior had been kind enough to pick Beth up and drive her to the gathering. Davy possessed a baby face pocked with acne, and he had the habit of making moony eyes and laughing nervously when he spoke to her. Junior said hardly anything. As soon as Beth had climbed into the front seat of Davy’s buggy, Junior, who was squished between them, had turned bright red, pulled out a fancy cell phone, and started playing games.

If the rest of the evening was as uncomfortable and awkward as her buggy ride, she might have to leave extremely early.

But still, she felt grateful for the lift. Tyler had offered to pick her up, but she couldn’t rely on his kindness all the time. She must learn to take care of herself.

She caught her breath when she saw Tyler. He stood on his porch obviously waiting for something. She loved how the fading light of dusk sharpened his solemn features, making his face seem as if it were carved in stone, like an ancient statue of a noble hero.

Davy maneuvered his buggy alongside the row of other buggies and sleighs in front of Tyler’s house. “Denki for the ride,” Beth said, leaping from the buggy as soon as it slowed enough for her to land safely on the ground without breaking an ankle. Lord willing, she could find another way home. She stumbled and regained her balance before anyone saw her; then she groaned. She’d left the blankets.

Tyler jogged to her. “Did they push you out?”

Beth grinned. “Nae. I escaped.”

“Who brought you?”

“Davy Miller and Junior. I thought it would be convenient since the Millers are Mammi’s closest neighbors. But I think Davy is scared of me, and Junior is fond of his Angry Birds.”

“Davy’s not scared of you,” Tyler said. “I’ve seen him at gmay. He stares at you as if you were a warm brownie with double fudge sauce.”

“He does not.”

“I promise he does.”

She huffed at such a ridiculous thought. “I’m seven years older than he is.”

Tyler’s eyes danced. “A fellow can dream, can’t he?” He took her elbow and nudged her toward the house. “That’s why you should have let me pick you up. I may stare at you like you’re a thick slab of cherry pie, but at least I’m past the pimple stage.”

A giggle tripped from her lips. “Could I be a huckleberry pie? And maybe not so thick?”

She finally made him smile. “Did you bring blankets? I’ve got extra if you need.”

“Unfortunately, they are in Davy’s buggy with my bag.”

“I’ll get them,” he said, bolting from her before she had a chance to stop him. He soon returned with three thick quilts and her bag. “What’s in here?”

“Mammi made potholders for the carolers. She’s been knitting like crazy. And I almost forgot.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a purple scarf. “This is for you,” she said, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping it around his neck. The movement got her close enough to catch a whiff of his scent. Tonight he smelled of hickory smoke and pine needles. He’d been helping his mamm with the fire.

He stood like stone as she brushed her fingers against his neck and looped the scarf over itself in front.

“How did the cheese turn out?”

“We cut each block in half so Erla could stretch it to four baskets. I evened out one of the blocks with my knife and ate the scraps. It tasted delicious, thanks to you. Erla was thrilled.”

Beth determined that, tonight, the mention of Erla’s name would not sting like a hornet.

They stomped the snow off their shoes and went into Tyler’s house. Beth must have been the last to arrive. The sound of loud and merry voices proved deafening as they walked up the stairs to the kitchen. Probably two-dozen young people milled around Yoders’ upstairs, drinking cocoa and visiting.

Tyler’s mamm acted as if the three wise men had walked through her door. She gave Beth a hardy embrace and handed her a mug of hot cocoa with chunky marshmallows.

Erla, with Menno in tow, marched up to Beth and smothered her with an enthusiastic hug. “Denki for helping Tyler with the cheese.”

“She didn’t help me,” Tyler insisted. “She did it all herself. I handed her utensils and tried to stay out of the way.”

Erla gave Beth an extra squeeze before she let go. “Our plan is working so well.” She looked from Beth to Tyler. “With the baskets. Our plan with the baskets. And Menno is going to show me how to make Swiss next week. Aren’t you, Menno? He’s so gute with cheese,” she gushed.

The bishop, Tyler’s dat, got everyone’s attention by standing on a chair and whistling through his teeth. “We are going to four houses tonight. Don’t jump off the wagon while it’s moving. You’ll get run over. That would ruin your Christmas.”

Everyone laughed with all the anticipation of a wonderful-gute evening.

“Did everybody bring a blanket? It’s going to be mighty cold. Okay, let’s pray and load up.”

They walked outside to where Freeman Zook waited with his four-horse team and wagon loaded with haystacks. Tyler jumped onto the wagon, reached out his hand, and pulled Beth up. “Let’s sit toward the back,” he said. “That way if you fall off, you won’t get run over by the tires.”

Beth smiled to herself. Tyler thought of things that didn’t even cross her mind. “Do you really think I’m going to fall off?”

“You can never be too careful.”

They found an empty hay bale, and Tyler wouldn’t let her sit until he had spread a blanket over it. Bales were relatively comfortable seating, but a bit prickly on the backside. Tyler sat next to her, keeping a proper distance, and Beth unfolded one of her blankets over them. She couldn’t figure out why Tyler wouldn’t try to sit next to Erla, unless he could see that she was a lost cause. It was plain as day that she and Menno wanted to stick together. That was fine with Beth. Tyler was the best friend she had in Bonduel, and she had a feeling her evening would be much better if she spent it with him.

“Tyler, have you got an extra blanket?” someone behind them asked. “It’s a lot colder in the open air than I thought.”

Tyler jumped from the wagon. “I’ll fetch one. Does anyone else want another blanket?”

Three or four people chimed in that they might need another blanket, and Tyler jogged to the house for more. He always seemed so happy to put others’ needs before his own. And Beth had the good fortune of spending the entire evening with him.

It was never a gute thing to count her chickens before they hatched.

Vernon Schmucker, the one who had been so eager to meet her at the bonfire several weeks ago, grunted forcefully as he heaved himself into the wagon and tromped over several bales to reach Beth. He eyed the space next to her, which unfortunately looked roomy enough for Vernon’s wide girth. His face widened into a toothy smile, and he plopped himself next to her. “This is a gute night for cuddling,” he said, pumping his brows up and down. He seemed to do that with some regularity.

“Oh, Vernon, I’m sorry. Tyler is sitting here. He went in to get some extra blankets.”

Vernon had the nerve to help himself to the other half of Beth’s blanket. “He’d better hurry if he doesn’t want to be left behind.”

“What I mean is, that is Tyler’s spot. You’ll have to find somewhere else to sit.”

Vernon chuckled, or rather guffawed, as if she’d said something hilariously funny. “The way I see it, the early bird gets the worm, if you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t know what you mean. Really, you’ll have to move.”

Vernon settled into the crunchy hay bale and folded his arms. “I love to go caroling. Everyone appreciates my bass voice. I can sing so low, I make windows rattle like a tornado was coming. It makes ‘Joy to the World’ extra nice for the old folks.”

Beth huffed impatiently. How insistent would she need to be? She might have to resort to downright rudeness. “Vernon, go find another seat. Tyler is sitting here.”

“He’ll find somewhere else. There’s plenty of room.”

Tyler came bounding out of the house with an armload of blankets. He slowed considerably as he caught sight of Vernon making himself cozy under Beth’s blanket. A deep line appeared between his brows, but other than that, his expression didn’t alter from the serious one he always wore. He hopped onto the wagon and distributed the blankets while Beth followed his every move with her eager gaze. He seemed intent on keeping his eyes averted as he handed out blankets and asked several of the girls if they were warm enough.

Vernon made no sign of budging. She could wait to see where Tyler sat and go sit next him, but that would seem quite forward, wouldn’t it? And what if Tyler ended up sitting next to Erla or some other young lady he had his eye on?

She could demand Vernon go elsewhere, but could she be forceful enough to convince him to move? Her heart stuck in her throat. It felt as if she were back in Nappanee, giving in to Amos’s wishes because she was too timid to fight for herself. But what would she be fighting for? Tyler might not really care if he sat by her or not. She shouldn’t make a big scene for nothing.

Once everyone got comfortable, Tyler glanced her way and then walked to the front of the wagon, sat on the bale used as the driver’s seat, and started making stiff conversation with the driver, Freeman. Freeman snapped the reins, and the four-horse team seemed to come alive. The wagon lurched forward slowly. The start always proved most difficult for the horses.

Tyler remained on the front hay bale as if he were the navigator for the hayride. She longed to sit by him. She knew she could make that serious expression disappear from his face in an instant. Instead, she was stuck sharing a blanket with Vernon Schmucker, who carried the faint smell of sour milk.

“Do you know how to make
yummasetti
?” Vernon said. “I love yummasetti. I could come visiting Sunday if you want to make a special meal.”

“I know how to make it, but my late husband told me my recipe tasted like dog food. You best not trust my cooking.”

“Better yet, I could bring you a trout. You just cut up some onions and peppers and stuff them in the fish, then wrap it real tight in foil and set it in a pan of boiling water. Makes it nice and moist.”

“I don’t like fish.”

“Everybody likes fish. I go two or three times a week in the summer and go ice fishing in the winter. Fly-fishing is my favorite. Last time, my waders sprung a leak, and I ain’t been back since. I’ll take you sometime. It’s hard to get the knack of it, but a gute teacher stands right behind you and holds your hands tight in his. You can get real close while fly-fishing.” Up and down went his eyebrows. Beth didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or gag in disgust. She opted to ignore him.

Soon the wagonload of carolers broke into a chorus of “O Come All Ye Faithful,” and Beth was saved from more of Vernon’s fish stories because they needed his low bass voice for the singing.

Beth didn’t have the heart to sing as her eyes strayed to where Tyler sat, back ramrod straight, staring at the road ahead like a sentry watching for danger. He could have been carved out of ice.

A profound feeling of loneliness spread to her bones like fog rising from the forest floor. She was honest enough to admit that she didn’t simply feel lonely. She was lonely for Tyler Yoder. She pushed the feeling away. She couldn’t let herself be overwhelmed with loneliness. She had years to live on her own, years to raise her son and run her own life. Feelings of loneliness only led to a longing for something she didn’t really want.

The wagon stopped at the first house, and Beth jumped off the hay bale as if it were on fire. Running from annoying men was becoming an unfortunate habit.

The young people walked en masse to the front door, with Erla and Menno and their basket of cheese and goodies leading the way. Beth hung back until she saw that Vernon dogged her every move. She deftly pushed her way to the front of the carolers and stood next to Erla and Menno. Tyler appeared at her side and gifted her with a smile like the sun. She couldn’t help grinning stupidly back at him.

“Did you have a nice ride?” he whispered.

She groaned. “I tried to make him move, but he’s quite persistent.”

He winked at her and sent that familiar thrill skipping up her spine. “You looked like you were having a wonderful-gute time.”

She breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t mad at her for letting Vernon take his bale of hay. Why had she worried? Had she forgotten that Tyler didn’t have an angry bone in his body? “I thought of shoving him off your spot, but I didn’t think I’d be strong enough to manage it,” she said.

“I would have come to help you. Vernon listens to men where he won’t pay any heed to what women say. But you’ve given me strict instructions not to rescue you. I knew you could manage him without me.”

“I did a horrible job of it.”

“Don’t be offended, but I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night.”

Although she knew she should have resisted everything about Tyler Yoder, she couldn’t have been happier at that news. “That’s quite a risk. You know how easily offended I am.”

He put his lips close to her ear. “I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

It took her a few seconds before she could breathe again. Still, she sounded as if she’d run a race when she spoke. “It will be awfully hard to court Erla with another girl hanging on you like a burr all night.”

“Do you still in your wildest imagination believe that I want to court Erla?” His whispering made her giddy.

“Maybe not,” she stammered.

Menno knocked on the door, and the carolers burst into a rousing rendition of “Jingle Bells.” Vernon pulled two sets of jingle bells from his pocket and shook them wildly. All heads turned to look at him, and everyone laughed in surprise. Instruments of any kind didn’t usually make their way into an Amish gathering, but Vernon didn’t seem to be one to go along with convention all that often.