Huckleberry Christmas

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Tyler attempted a carefree laugh. He didn’t want her to suspect that talk of Amos always made him angry enough to spit. She didn’t say much about Amos in their normal conversation so it was a good sign that she felt comfortable at least mentioning her late husband in Tyler’s presence.

  “I would have preheated the oven, but Mamm suggested I wait so you could tell me the temperature you want,” he said.

  “Let’s do about three hundred and fifty degrees. That should be perfect.”

  “That’s one thing that always amazes me, how a gute cook can tell how hot she wants the oven just by guessing.”

  “Guessing is not the sign of a gute cook. It’s the sign of a cook who doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

  Chuckling, Tyler turned the dial on the LP gas oven. “I don’t even know how many degrees you need to bake a cake, so you’re still more skilled than I am.”

  “Don’t make that conclusion until you see how the cake turns out.”

  Tyler washed his hands. “While the oven heats up, do you want to take a look at the cheese I made yesterday?”

  Beth’s face fell, and Tyler felt that pang of guilt he always experienced when he thought about Erla Glick and her schemes with Beth. In giving Beth the impression that there was more between him and Erla than there was, he felt he deceived her.

  The mere mention of Erla seemed to put Beth in a sour mood. Was she jealous? He didn’t feel quite right toying with her feelings like that. If something he did upset Beth, he should quit, no matter how good of a plan Erla Glick thought it might be. Even if Tyler ended up finding the back door to Beth’s heart.

  When Beth hesitated, Tyler said, “I made it all by myself.” He reached into a cupboard above the sink and pulled out four covered plastic containers. “These work pretty good as cheese caves,” he said.

  He opened the first container and gasped.

  Beth peeked into the bowl. “I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that.”

  Tyler opened the other three containers. The mess inside each looked the same as the first. “It looks like an explosion of curds and whey,” he said, almost laughing at the disastrous result.

  The corner of Beth’s mouth twitched. “Maybe it’s not so bad. You should taste it.”

  “You taste it.”

  She giggled. “I’m not touching it. I’d rather not be in the hospital for Christmas.”

  “I was so proud of it.” Tyler stuck his finger into one of the containers and pushed the white chunks around. “I never should have tried cooking anything without close supervision.”

  “I’m afraid even the hogs might not eat that. You probably cooked it too long, or it got too hot before you stirred it.”

  He regarded Beth curiously. “You know how to make cheese?”

  “It’s one thing I know how to make well. Treva refused to eat any cheese but mine.”

  He slapped his forehead with his palm. “I’ve been wasting all this time with Erla when you could have been teaching me?”

  She lowered her eyes. “I wouldn’t say you’ve wasted all that time.”

  “I would.” He might as well be honest about it. “I’d rather spend my days with you and Toby than do anything else.”

  An attractive blush tinted her cheeks even as the corners of her mouth drooped. He’d been too honest. She wasn’t ready for his confession of undying love.

  “Erla is putting together goodie baskets to hand out when we go caroling to the shut-ins on Friday. I was in charge of the cheese. The baskets will be a failure.”

  “I wouldn’t say failure. They’ll just be without cheese.”

  A wonderful idea jumped into his head. He couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity if he had ruined the cheese on purpose. “Will you help me make more?”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Please. I really need your help.”

  “This is a switch, you needing my help for a change.”

  Tyler had the sudden, overwhelming urge to wrap her in his arms and tell her he desperately needed her help every day. He needed her help just to feel whole. He needed her to bring complete happiness into his life. Instead, he opted for an earnest gaze and a nod. “I’ll help you make the cake—”

  “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 c
heese.”

  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.

  I decided to take a risk on you.

  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.

  Chapter Eighteen

  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.