Huckleberry Christmas

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Beth shook her head. “He never did before.”

  Mammi’s smile brimmed with patience. “Now, Beth, God never left you without help, even when you were with Amos. Especially when you were with Amos. But maybe you were too angry at Him to recognize it.”

  “I’ve been angry at God for a long time,” she murmured.

  “It’s time to stop being angry and start listening instead of fighting Him.”

  Beth stood and looked out the window at the barn. She thought of Tyler, talking and laughing with Dawdi and Aden instead of her. Envy stabbed at her. She wanted to see his smile more than winter wanted to see spring.

  “Tyler won’t come back by wishing him to, and like as not, he won’t return unless you mend a whole pasture of fences.”

  “I just . . . want him to be my friend.”

  Mammi smiled with her whole face. “A boy that scrambled in love doesn’t want to be friends.” Sighing plaintively, she leaned on the table and pushed herself to her feet. “Let’s get labels on these jam jars,” she said, as if she’d forgotten the entire conversation. “They need more huckleberry jam at the Christmas bazaar. They’re going to sell out this year, Lord willing.”

  Beth bit her bottom lip. No matter how hard it would prove to be, she must patch up her friendship with Tyler. The thought of him out of her life left her gasping for air.

  She helped Mammi bring the supplies to the table—two-dozen half-pints of jam plus pens and labels. They wrote out labels while Toby played on the rug, occasionally coming to Beth for a drink of “wadi” or a cracker. Beth hardly said a word. Her concentration centered on the inside of the barn, where Tyler stained a chest of drawers with her cousin Aden.

  Dawdi opened the door and stomped the snow off his boots before stepping into the house.

  “How’s it going out there?” Beth asked, trying to keep her tone casual.

  Dawdi hung up his coat and pulled a small brown bag from his pocket. Studying Beth’s face, he said, “About as good as it’s going in here, it would seem. You’re looking as grim as an undertaker, and Tyler is trying to smile so hard his lips are bound to turn blue.”

  Things were worse than she’d thought. It wasn’t like Tyler to pretend to anything. His solemn expression had always attested to his inner calm. He obviously wasn’t feeling any peace at the moment if he grinned until his face hurt.

  Dawdi placed the sack in her hand and cocked an eyebrow. “He asked me to give this to you, and he said not to be mad.”

  Her heart sank as she turned the bag upside-down and four thick spools of thread tumbled from it. She couldn’t be mad. The hurt overtook every other emotion. He couldn’t talk her into marrying him, but he still must have felt obligated to be nice.

  She had turned into one of his service projects.

  She didn’t want to be one of his service projects. She wanted things to be the way they had been four days ago when they had shared a glorious evening on a hayride under the stars. She wanted it to be just like that but without the kissing or handholding. She only wanted to be friends. At this moment, Tyler’s friendship felt more important to her than any other relationship in her entire life.

  By the twentieth label, when her hand stiffened up, she quit debating with herself and determined to march out to the barn and persuade Tyler to talk to her, like they had always been able to talk with each other. She’d scold him for buying her thread, and he’d sprout that guilty grin he always got when he knew what he’d done had irritated her. She’d make him laugh at least three times. She could always make him laugh.

  She hurriedly finished the labels for Mammi, dashed to her room, and gathered Toby’s hat, coat, and mittens. Toby’s presence would ensure that Tyler would at least agree to talk to her. Even if Tyler wanted to avoid her, he couldn’t resist Toby’s big blue eyes and chubby cheeks.

  Her limbs felt weak as she stepped out the door with Toby tightly in her arms. Why should she be so shaky? She’d seen Tyler four days ago. It wasn’t as if they’d been apart for years and years. Still, she placed Toby on the ground and let him crunch through the snow as she held tightly to his hand. Unfortunately, he didn’t like to be constrained. Pulling against her, he threw his head back and grunted his displeasure.

  “Come on, Toby,” she coaxed.

  He pulled harder and flopped down in the snow.

  She squatted and lifted him to his feet. “Toby, Toby,” she said, as he struggled in her arms. “We’re going to go find Tyler. Do you want to see Tyler?”

  Toby’s eyes lit up. “Mommy.”

  Toby let her take his hand and lead him to the barn. She swung open the door, and their footsteps echoed in the cold, dim space.

  “Mommy,” Toby called.

  Tyler and Aden were gone. How had she not seen them leave from the kitchen window?

  Her disappointment felt as palpable as if she were choking on a piece of stale bread. She needed to see Tyler. Why had he left without even a glance in her direction? Her eyes involuntarily traveled to the ceiling, where an empty string dangled from one of the rafters. Tyler had kissed her right here. The mere memory sent a thrill dancing up her spine.

  Why was she fighting this? Why did she struggle so hard to deny what lay in the very core of her soul—the thing that would make her deliriously happy and fill her life with purpose again?

  Because if she admitted her true feelings, she would have to do something about them.

  Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe as the truth came rushing toward her and almost knocked her over. She loved Tyler so fiercely she thought her heart might burst with the intensity of it. But fear paralyzed her—the same fear that had been her constant companion since Amos died. It felt like a mountain impossible to climb.

  Toby yanked his hand from her grasp and toddled toward the stalls.

  “Toby, no. Toby, stop!”

  He didn’t heed her. At the sound of her voice, he ran as fast as his little legs would take him while she chased frantically after him. She saw it coming even as it was too late to stop it. He tripped on a crack in the floor, fell face first onto the cement, and cried out in pain.

  In horror, Beth gasped and scooped him into her arms. He held his breath momentarily, then let out a scream that surely rattled the walls. A sickly purple goose egg already grew on his forehead and the skin on the tip of his nose was scraped raw and bleeding.

  Beth clutched him to her breast even as she felt her heart would stop beating. “Oh, Toby. Oh, my little baby.” She found the milking stool in the dim light and sat down with Toby bawling hysterically in her grasp. She pulled a tissue from her coat pocket and lightly patted the scrape on his nose. He screamed harder and swatted her hand away. Tears ran down her face. “Why didn’t you listen to me? I told you not to run. You’ve got quit fighting me all the time, heartzly.”

  She took in her breath sharply. Mammi’s words came back to her as if they were flashing in bright letters in the sky.

  It’s time to stop being angry and start listening instead of fighting God all the time.

  Toby’s crying wound down as her agitation grew. Had she really been behaving like a two-year-old? Toby fought every effort to guide him. He threw tantrums when she tried to change his diaper. He became ferociously angry when she held his hand to cross the street. She tried to watch over him, and all he could do was be mad about it. She remembered the look on his face when she’d taken him to the doctor to get shots. He’d acted as if she’d betrayed him, even though the immunizations were for his own good.

  Oh.

  Had some good come out of her marriage to Amos? Had she been mad at God all this time for sending blessings she had been too stubborn to recognize?

  Toby’s wails died down to whimpers, and she dabbed the tissue to his nose once again. Not a lot of blood, but it would sure be sore for a few days. She took off one of her gloves and softly pressed her cold hand to his goose egg hoping to make it feel better. He grunted and nudged her hand away. Never mind.

  “The
re, there. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

  Was it? How could she reassure Toby when she wasn’t even convinced of it herself?

  Pressing her lips against Toby’s cheek, she bowed her head and prayed with silent fervor. “Dear Heavenly Father, after what happened with Amos, I was mad at you.”

  The thought seemed so silly. God already knew her heart. She wanted Him to change it.

  “I want to trust you again, to see your hand in my life and recognize the good that came out of three years with Amos, if there was any. Please show me the way.”

  Behind her she heard the snow crunching underneath someone’s feet and turned to see Dawdi making his way across the yard. “Your mammi said you came out to see Tyler. I should have told you he and Aden left about ten minutes ago.” When he came closer, he noticed the tears in her eyes and the sorry condition of Toby’s face. “Oh, sis yuscht! There’s been some sort of kerfuffle.”

  “He fell” was all she could muster.

  Dawdi reached for Toby and took him into his arms. “You was running away, wasn’t you? You don’t like to stay still.” He brushed his hand lightly across the giant purple goose egg on Toby’s forehead. “Let me see your eyes,” he instructed.

  “Eye,” Toby repeated.

  Dawdi walked out of the barn, into the sunlight muted by gray, and examined Toby’s eyes. He shaded Toby’s face and then pulled his hand away, exposing Toby’s pupils to the brighter light. He repeated his examination three times. “His eyes look like they’re working okay. I don’t think he has a concussion.”

  Beth exhaled in relief. “He hit pretty hard.”

  “Jah, I can see he did.” Dawdi took the tissue from Beth and dabbed around the scrape on Toby’s nose. “One of your mammi’s ointments will have you as good as new in no time.” He kissed the top of Toby’s head and tousled his curly red hair. “He’s the spitting image of Amos Hostetler.”

  Beth had never liked hearing that. It meant she would never be free of Amos’s memory. But today she thought of her son instead of her son’s father. She couldn’t even imagine her life without Toby. She remembered laughing in delight at that shock of bright red hair on a tiny, perfect baby just minutes after his birth. When the nurse had laid Toby in her arms, Beth had thought she would burst. She’d never experienced such indescribable love for another human being before. Her feelings had overflowed and coursed through every cell in her body.

  That love had never subsided. She imagined it must be a small taste of the love that Jesus felt for her. It had to be. He had died for her. And for her son.

  Without Amos, I wouldn’t have Toby. The best gift God has ever given me.

  How could she ever be mad at God for such grace?

  With Toby in his arms, Dawdi turned and hiked to the house. “Let’s have Mammi take a look at that nose.”

  Before following them, Beth paused for a moment and looked to the sky. “Thank you, Heavenly Father, for my Toby. He is the best thing in my life. And thank you for Amos for giving my baby to me.” Her voice cracked. Not since the first month of her marriage had she thanked God for her husband.

  A warm sensation radiated from the center of her heart to the tips of her toes and fingers. She felt as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled to herself. God would show her the way. She just had to listen.

  And quit fighting.

  Chapter Twenty

  Toby did not want to sit, so Beth ended up following him around the large warehouse while Dawdi pushed the empty stroller. Every December, Kessler’s warehouse was home to the annual Christmas bazaar, where Amish and Englisch alike set up booths and sold their merchandise for Christmas treasure seekers. The Kings sold Mammi and Dawdi’s huckleberry jam in their booth of specialty Amish foods. Yost Bieler sold clever wooden toys and gadgets, and even Vernon Schmucker had a booth where he peddled his Yellow Zonker and grasshopper pattern fishing flies.

  Toby tromped around the warehouse, dodging people and booths, sporting a scab on the tip of his nose and a fine bruise that covered the right half of his forehead. He paused occasionally to let passersby ooh and aah at him, but he didn’t stay still for long. He marched along, oblivious to his mother, who followed his every step and made sure he didn’t steer into any trouble.

  Very much like God did with her, Beth thought. How truly unaware had she been that Heavenly Father continually watched over her? Since Tuesday she’d been assembling a list of tender mercies she had ignored in the last four years. It was becoming quite lengthy. Near the top of that list she noted the night that Tyler Yoder had taken a beating from Isaac. Beth had no doubt who had brought Tyler to her door at that very moment. It was nothing short of a miracle, and she had only just recognized it.

  Her eyes scanned the crowds for any sign of Tyler. Although it wasn’t likely he’d be here, she kept a lookout. She had to talk to him, and since he’d probably determined to never set foot on Huckleberry Hill again, she would need to go to him.

  But she didn’t know how she would patch things up once she did talk to him. “Please be patient with me” sounded selfish after all she’d already put him through. “I need more time” seemed like a weak excuse. He probably wouldn’t believe “I love you,” even though the feeling was as real as the warmth of the sun streaming through the clouds on a stormy day. He had every reason to reject her. He was ready, and she wasn’t. With every fiber of her soul, she wanted to be ready to open her heart to him and trust her life to God. She couldn’t give herself fully to Tyler until she could give herself fully to God.

  She was working on trust. God was working on her heart.

  Toby picked up his pace and ran recklessly toward one of the corner booths. Her heart somersaulted when she saw where he was headed. Tyler stood near the candy booth with that solemn look on his face Beth had come to cherish. With his arms folded casually across his chest, he talked with one of the ministers in the district.

  The brightly colored candy sitting in open bins was not what had attracted Toby’s attention. “Mommy, mommy!” he cried as he pumped his little legs with all his might and ran headlong on a crash course for Tyler.

  Hearing his nickname, Tyler turned, caught Toby in his arms, and tossed him into the air. Toby squealed in pure delight, and Tyler’s serious face bloomed into a genuine smile.

  Beth finally caught up with her escapee, her heart pounding like a window-rattling bass drum. Tyler barely glanced at her, but she saw him stiffen at her presence. The drum played double time.

  Tyler anchored Toby securely in his arms and examined his face. “Oh, no, Toby. What happened?” He looked sincerely stricken. “Have you been running from your mother again?”

  “He fell in the barn. On the cement.” Why couldn’t she speak to Tyler without panting for air? “I didn’t hold his hand tight enough. I feel like a horrible mother.”

  He regarded her with those achingly beautiful eyes before quickly looking away, as if gazing at her too long would be dangerous. “You are a wonderful-gute mother,” he said, his frown etched on every line of his face. “Toby is two, unsteady on his feet, and independent.” He nudged a lock of hair from the bruise. “He is determined to learn things the hard way.”

  Toby leaned his head on Tyler’s shoulder and tapped Tyler’s chest with his chubby hand. Tyler was his favorite person in the world. In turn, Tyler nuzzled his chin against the top of Toby’s head and patted his back in a slow, easy rhythm.

  Beth took a deep breath. “Tyler, can we have a talk?”

  Tyler pressed his lips together and refused to look her in the eye. She could see his desire to be nice warring with his resolve to keep away from her. He turned and pointed to the bins of candy. “Could Toby have a sucker? They’ve got root beer.”

  Her heart sank. He seemed determined not to let her break through his defenses. “Jah, he can have a sucker.”

  Tyler quickly picked a sucker from the bin, paid a quarter for it, and gave it to Toby.

  Doubt paralyze
d her. What could she say to him to tear down that seven-foot wall he had built between them? “Can . . . can you come over tonight?” She tried for a playful grin. “The floors need sweeping.”

  He persistently looked anywhere but at her and forced a smile that could have been pressed into his face by an iron. Like Dawdi had said, he was smiling so hard his lips were going to turn blue. “I can’t. We’re having a Christmas get-together with some of the aunts and uncles.”

  Beth winced. She couldn’t bear that fake smile. She never wanted Tyler to pretend anything with her.

  She should have held her tongue, but she couldn’t help it. Couldn’t he see how hard she tried? “Don’t smile like that.”

  His lips didn’t move from their unnatural position. “Like what?”

  “Like you’re barely tolerating me,” she snapped.

  He didn’t fight back. Of course he didn’t fight back, but at least he wiped the grimace off his face and finally met her gaze. “I’m sorry I offended you, Beth. The last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings.”

  Don’t apologize, she wanted to scream. I don’t want your apologies. I want you to wait for me. I want you to love me.

  Instead, she turned her anger inward, where it belonged. Her stubbornness hadn’t allowed God into her life or love into her heart. She had pushed Tyler away and had no one to blame for his behavior but herself.

  She slumped her shoulders and tried to keep a sob from escaping her lips. “I’m sorry, Tyler.”

  Surprise flitted across his features before he put up that wall again. “It’s no use, Beth. It’s no use.” He said it with such an air of finality that she almost lost her composure. She frantically blinked back the tears that already brimmed in her eyes.

  Tyler pretended not to notice. He transferred Toby into her arms while Toby protested loudly and reached for him. “Have a merry Christmas, Beth.” He caressed Toby’s cheek with his large hand. “You be a gute boy for your mamm. And no more falling.”