Heart in Hand: Stitches in Time Series #3 Page 10

  Gideon happened to be standing with a clear line of vision of the front door when he saw his daughter rush outside, followed a few steps behind by Anna.

  What is up? he wondered, excusing himself politely and stopping in the bedroom to retrieve coats for the three of them. Something must be up for Sarah Rose and Anna not to get their coats before they went outside.

  He shrugged into his jacket and walked outside, finding them almost immediately in a corner of the porch protected a little from the wind.

  Anna glanced up in surprise when she heard him walk toward them. Tucking her jacket under her arm, she took Sarah Rose’s jacket to slip it on her. She gave her a reassuring pat, then smiled slightly at Gideon.

  “Aren’t you going to put your jacket on?”

  “I need to get back inside.”

  Gideon frowned. “What’s going on? You two just came out here.”

  Anna looked at Sarah Rose, and it seemed to Gideon that some unspoken message passed between them. Sarah Rose studied her shoes for a long moment, and Anna bent to whisper something in her ear. She looked up and nodded at Anna, then turned her attention to him.

  “I guess I said something I shouldn’t have to Emma,” she confessed.

  “You guess?” He looked from his daughter to Anna and back again. “You don’t know? I think you’re acting like you know you shouldn’t have. What did you say?”

  Sarah Rose chewed on her thumbnail, then sighed. “I sorta told her that she shouldn’t say bad things about Jenny.”

  Gideon looked to Anna for confirmation and watched her straighten. “Well, she shouldn’t.”

  “What did she say?” he asked her, hoping it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

  “Who? Emma or Sarah Rose?”

  “Both.”

  “Emma was criticizing Jenny’s cooking.”

  “Jenny says things about her own cooking,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, well, it wasn’t nice of Emma to say it, and then she said if Jenny didn’t spend so much time writing, she’d be better at her cooking.”

  Emma’s words hadn’t been nice, but they also hadn’t been appropriate in front of others. Gideon knew Sarah Rose liked Jenny—after the day Jenny had briefly shown up at the knitting lesson at the Stitches in Time shop and she and his daughter had talked in the kitchen Sarah Rose had asked if he’d get something Jenny wrote. They’d read it one night and Sarah Rose had been thoughtful and they discussed how Jenny tried to get people to help little kids being hurt by wars.

  Sarah Rose had obviously been defending someone she liked and respected. He wasn’t sure his independent and increasingly verbal daughter might not have been too outspoken this time.

  “So what did you say to Emma, Sarah Rose?”

  Her bottom lip jutted out. “I asked her if she thought about maybe Jenny was doing the best she could.”

  Gideon felt Anna’s movement more than saw it. When he pulled his gaze from Sarah Rose, he saw the flash of indignation in Anna’s eyes.

  “She’s right,” Anna blurted out. “It’s not right the way Emma talked, the way she gossiped, especially when other people could hear.”

  “Like me,” Sarah Rose said, nodding righteously.

  He considered that for a long moment, biting back a smile. It wouldn’t do to minimize Sarah Rose being disrespectful to an older woman from the community, even though nearly everyone thought Emma was a gossip and tended to poke her nose into the business of others. He suspected there was one in every community.

  A chill wind blew past, and Anna shivered. She glanced at the door. “I should get back inside.”

  “No, don’t go,” Sarah Rose pleaded and stepped closer to her.

  Gideon took Anna’s coat from her and held it out to her, and she slid her arms into it and pulled it closer. “Stay for just a few more minutes,” he said. “Maybe you can help me decide what to do with Sarah Rose.”

  She wavered and then looked at his daughter. “Maybe Sarah Rose should decide what she should do.”

  Wonderful idea, he thought. Why didn’t I think of it?

  She thrust her bottom lip out again. “She did wrong.” She hesitated. “But I did, too.”

  “That’s right.”

  Sarah Rose rolled her eyes. “So, I guess I should go ’pologize.” She looked at Anna, who looked impressed and nodded.

  “I think that’s an excellent idea,” he agreed. “And the sooner the better.”

  With another eye-roll, she scuffed her shoes as she walked inside.

  “You’d think she was walking to the gallows, wouldn’t you?” he asked, grinning now that she was gone.

  “It’s not easy apologizing.”

  “No,” he agreed, wondering where this was leading.

  She looked at him, her brown eyes clear and steady on his, but full of uncertainty. In a gesture that seemed nervous, she licked her lips. “I’ve been avoiding you.”

  “I noticed,” he said, moving closer as some people walked past. Moving closer because he wanted to be nearer her and study the way the moisture on her lips glistened in the light. “Why was that?”

  9

  Anna looked away for a moment, then back at him. “This isn’t really the place for this discussion, is it?”

  Gideon hesitated, then shook his head. “But if you don’t want to date, all you have to do is say so. I wouldn’t be happy, but I wouldn’t bother you again.”

  She held his eyes. “It’s not that. And you wouldn’t be bothering me.”

  He tilted his head and studied her. “Then what—” he stopped. “Sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for?” Sarah Rose asked, startling him.

  Looking down, Gideon frowned. “I didn’t hear you walk up.”

  “I didn’t sneak,” she said. “I couldn’t find Emma. I think she prob’ly went home.”

  “Then we’ll have to go see her at her house. We should do that now.”

  “And leave the wedding?” Aghast, Sarah Rose stared at him. “They were just going to have games and snacks for us kids!”

  “It would be the right thing to do to go apologize,” he told her. “The Bible says we should apologize quickly and then forgive.”

  Sarah Rose gave a big sigh. “I’ll go look again.”

  “Try the kitchen,” he called after her.

  Gideon heard a muffled sound and glanced at Anna. “It’s not funny,” he said, trying to sound stern as she fought to suppress her mirth. But he had to admit that even he saw the humor.

  “Don’t be mad at her. She’s just going through a stage.”

  “I’m praying that I survive it.”

  Her smile faded. “Some of it’s a stage, and some of it is she’s working her way through grief. It takes some people longer.”

  “Does that include you?” he asked quietly.

  “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about your daughter.” She hesitated. “She’s a child. Jenny said—” She stopped, unsure of how much Jenny had said about losing her mother she should repeat. It could be something Jenny didn’t want shared with everyone. “Talk to Jenny someday and ask her about her mother, okay?”

  He nodded. “It feels bad not being able to protect your child from pain.”

  But God’s will was God’s will. He knew what He was doing. There was a reason He’d taken Mary to be with Him and had left Sarah Rose here with him.

  As for working through grief, all he knew was that he’d started feeling like he’d come out of a fog recently and begun to feel like he was beginning to come to life again. But he didn’t really know how she felt, he realized. Was she trying to tell him that she hadn’t gotten to the place he had?

  “Jenny lost her mother when she was young,” Anna said quietly. “She told me she never really got over it. She just learned to cope—especially when her father was too lost in his own grief to help her. I can see that you’re trying hard to help her. That should mean something.”

  She shivered. “I need to go inside.”
/>   “Can we talk later?”

  She hesitated and then she nodded. “Maybe we can have coffee tomorrow morning? Around ten?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Sarah Rose came back out onto the porch. She looked aggrieved.

  “I found her.”

  “I thought you would.”

  “She wasn’t real nice about me ’pologizing. Said I wasn’t polite to an older person.”

  His heart went out to his little girl who looked disappointed that her attempt to make up for her impetuous words hadn’t gone better.

  “And what did you say to her?”

  “I told her she was right, and I would try to do better.”

  Gideon let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and smiled. “Gut. Don’t you feel better now?”

  She stared up at him with wide eyes. “I guess. Can I go play games and have snacks now?”

  He smiled at the nasal way she pronounced snack as snahk with a flat, nasal tone like so many kinner her age did. “Schur.”

  She spun, sending her skirts swirling, and ran back into the house. He called out to her to slow down, but she was already inside.

  “Looks like someone’s enjoying the wedding.” Chris climbed the steps to the house.

  “Chris, good to see you.” The two men shook hands. “Ya, Sarah Rose is quite happy. There’s games and snahks.”

  “That’s how my kids say it, too.”

  Gideon jerked his head toward Chris’s buggy parked in front of the house. “You’re leaving?”

  “Hannah’s not feeling well. We’re going home.”

  The front door opened and their son poked his blond head out. “Mamm says she’ll be out in a minute. She’s getting the dish she brought.”

  He mirrored Sarah Rose’s behavior of a little while ago with his shoulders slumped and his chin tucked down.

  “Someone isn’t happy,” Gideon murmured. “Why don’t you leave him, and I’ll bring him home later?”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course.”

  Hannah walked out carrying an empty serving dish. Chris held out his hand to her, and she took it, smiling at Gideon.

  “Gideon here says he’ll bring Jonah home later. That way he can stay and have fun.”

  “Why, that’s nice of you,” Hannah said.

  “Saw him out here talking quite a while with Anna,” Chris told Hannah. “Wonder if there’s going to be another wedding?”

  “Chris! You know that’s private! Don’t be a gossip!” she chided. Looking at Gideon, she shook her head. “Don’t feel you have to tell this former Englischman about your plans.” She bit her lip and then gave him a mischievous smile. “Unless of course you want to tell me.”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” he said.

  And regretted having to say that.

  Anna felt herself hugged from behind as she walked down the front hall to the room that had been set up for the reception.

  For a split second she wondered if was Gideon, but he wouldn’t do something like that and besides, the person was a woman and she was laughing.

  Turning, she saw that it was Naomi. “I’m so happy!”

  Anna grinned. “Really?”

  “Giving away another hug?” Nick asked, coming up to join them. “Save some for me.”

  Naomi blushed. “Nick!”

  His eyebrows went up. “Too much? Sorry, love.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m trying to be more circumspect now that I’ve joined the church.”

  “Really?” she asked, glancing down at his arms.

  “It’s our wedding reception,” he told her. “You’re not saying a mann can’t show his love and affection for his fraa, are you?”

  “There’s appropriate and there’s . . . not,” she said sternly.

  But Anna saw her cousin’s lips curve in a smile.

  “Keep working with him,” Anna advised. “He’ll make a good Amish mann.”

  “I’ve already shown her that, or she wouldn’t have married me,” Nick said with a grin.

  She’d never seen him so happy and lighthearted.

  “What a day!” he said, looking around him. “Look, it’s time to eat again.”

  Naomi rolled her eyes. “It’s Nick’s kind of day. Two all-you-can-eat meals and snacks and desserts as well.”

  He took her by the hand. “C’mon, people will expect us to be at the—what’s it called? The neck of the table?”

  Laughing, shaking her head, she let him lead her away. “You know very well that it’s the eck. You just have to tease.”

  “Nick! Can I pull you away from your bride for a moment?”

  Naomi let him go with a smile and took a seat next to Anna. “Did you hear the news about Daniel in Florida?”

  “No, what?”

  “I just heard he’s getting married. Isn’t that a wonderful surprise? I can’t wait to tell Nick. They got to be friends when we were in Florida.”

  “You’re just happy someone else you know is getting married.”

  Naomi smiled and nodded. “I’m working on you next.”

  “I’m invited to three weddings this week. That’s enough for me. I don’t need my own.”

  Gideon looked directly at Anna as he reentered the room.

  “Oh,” Naomi whispered. “Oh, my. I had no idea.”

  “Don’t start getting them,” Anna hissed. “Stop looking at him.”

  “How long have you been dating him?”

  “I haven’t,” Anna told her, giving her a quelling glance.

  Naomi made a humming noise. “Well, I’d say he’s sure interested in dating you.”

  Anna opened her mouth to say she knew that, but then she shut it. She didn’t need to give Naomi any more information. Naomi wouldn’t gossip, but she didn’t want any questions.

  “Nick’s waiting for you.”

  Naomi laughed. “He’s waiting for me so he can eat again.” But she joined him, and they exchanged such a look of love Anna knew that Naomi was very sure of his feelings for her.

  Later that night, Anna lay on her side, thinking about meeting Gideon for coffee the next day as she looked up at the stars through her bedroom window.

  She pressed a hand to her stomach. Butterflies were competing with the food she’d eaten at the evening meal at the wedding reception. It was so silly to be feeling like a maedel about to go out on her first date. My goodness, she was in her midtwenties, and she was a widow.

  But she’d dated only one man—loved only one man—since they were youngsters at school. Only one.

  And Gideon had been giving her those . . . looks that reminded her that she was a woman and he was a handsome and—dare she say it to herself—sexy man attracted to her.

  It was enough to make any woman have butterflies just thinking about it.

  Reminding herself that it was just coffee didn’t seem to be helping. Sleep just wasn’t coming.

  She sat up and reached for the basket with her knitting that she kept by the bed, hoping that it would soothe her. Maybe she just hadn’t allowed herself enough time to slow down and relax from the excitement and busyness of the wedding before she got into bed . . .

  Of course, she knew that wasn’t it. The long day and the physical work of helping to serve and wash up had made her so tired she’d found climbing the stairs to the bedroom a chore.

  It was meeting Gideon for coffee. And it didn’t help to remind herself that it was just coffee.

  So she told herself if she wasn’t ready to date yet or if she decided Gideon wasn’t the man God had set aside for her, well, then she didn’t have to see him again.

  Dating was, at least, a little easier than what Jamie had told her it was like in the Englisch community. Couples who dated here almost always knew each other from childhood, and dating was kept private, which took some of the pressure off. Dating itself consisted of attending singings and other structured, often chaperoned activities that were still fun.

  Less “drama” a
s Jamie called it, and Anna liked that she and Samuel had known each other so well by the time they got married.

  As for Gideon, there was so much she already knew about him. It should have made it easier. But it didn’t. He’d been a friend before, but now that he was asking to date, it changed everything.

  She rubbed at her forehead, feeling a bit of a headache coming on.

  No, this was getting way too worked up. It was just coffee. And a relationship wasn’t supposed to be something you stressed over. Hers with Samuel had been loving and deep, but it had been so much fun, a partnership of working together to build a marriage and a home. She’d never lain awake and found herself stressing about things—not even the first date.

  You were so young then, though, she reminded herself. Dating then—the older people in the community still sometimes called it courting—was just an innocent evening at a singing or a drive with Samuel, and a starry-eyed hope they’d get married one day.

  Now she and Gideon were widowed. They both were at a stage where they knew life could be short, that the person that they built all their hopes and dreams on could be called away. That they could be left alone, so very alone.

  Her knitting needles stilled. She stared at the baby hat that she was knitting. Neither of them would have children without getting married. Gideon was fortunate—he had a kind already, but if he wanted more—she had no doubt he wanted more. Kinner were God’s gift to couples. Large families were encouraged . . . expected. If Mary had lived, it was likely that she and Gideon would have had at least another kind or two by now.

  Just as she and Samuel would have had a baby or two. She’d so hoped that she would get pregnant quickly, but it hadn’t happened and then before they knew it, Samuel became so sick, his disease draining the life from him before the chemo weakened him. Pneumonia had swept in, and he was gone.

  Anna looked down at the baby hat in her hands and dumped it into the basket beside the bed. Even if she failed to get to sleep the rest of the night, she didn’t want to think about the kind she’d never had with Samuel and now would never have.

  She lay down again and placed her hand on the empty side of the bed. This was the time of day she always missed Samuel the most. She felt warmth flood into her cheeks as the thought came to her that Gideon could change that. It was best for a widow not to think of that part of life when she didn’t have a mann . . .