He stepped toward the doorway, and the women entered.
Beth looped her arm through her fiancé’s. “And this is Jonah.”
Mattie Lane’s hands were tucked inside her folded arms, probably in an effort to stay warm, but her smile embraced Jonah. “I think she might be just a tad in love with you.”
Gideon tried to pull his attention back to the job at hand—mounting hardware on the door.
“A tad is not nearly a success,” Jonah said. “Mattie Lane, right?”
The use of her pet name caused Gideon to cringe, and he looked up.
The smile on her face faded. “Why would you call me that?”
Jonah glanced at Gideon, and Mattie noticed him for the first time since entering the room. Her pale blue eyes stayed glued to him, as if she were too shocked to move. Gideon hadn’t realized he’d used that name when talking to Jonah, but he’d called her by that nickname since she was twelve, telling her that a day with her was a journey all by itself—a trip down a one-of-a-kind country road, Mattie Lane.
Finally she nodded. “Gideon.”
“Hi.” All the months of aching for her that had painstakingly turned into years rushed from their buried place and leveled him.
She looked back at Jonah. “It’s just Mattie.” She held out her hand and shook Jonah’s. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. Beth’s told me a lot about you in her letters.” She entered the room and peeked into the full bathroom. “I’m completely awed by this home. You’ve done an amazing job.”
Jonah shoved his hammer into his tool belt. “Gideon’s been doing everything from the contracting to the finishing carpentry while I’ve spent the better part of this past year helping Beth and Lizzy expand the product line for the dry goods store.”
Mattie glanced at Gideon as though he were some half-remembered acquaintance from her past. She shifted her attention out the window. “You have a perfect view of the store.”
“And look.” Beth took Mattie to the PVC piping that was the conduit for the Amish intercom. “It’s a direct line from the store to here. The workers can easily contact us this way.”
Mattie chuckled. “I could’ve used one of these between Mattie Cakes and my brother’s place.”
“The intercom system was Gideon’s idea,” Beth said. “He dug the trench to lay the pipe and installed it for us.”
An unfamiliar look entered Mattie’s eyes, as if anything to do with him disgusted her. She moved to the bathroom door. In bold scroll Jonah had carved “Charity endureth all things.”
“What a beautiful carving.” She rubbed her arms.
“Ya. Jonah’s work is what drew me to him,” Beth said. “I saw a scene carved on a small stump in a store in Ohio and wanted to purchase more just like it for our store.”
Gideon took off his coat and held it out to Mattie. “The heat will be in working order next week.”
She shook her head. “Denki. But I’m fine.”
“Oh,” Beth exclaimed. “I was so excited to show you around, I didn’t even notice you were freezing.”
“I took off my coat in Gloria’s car. She had it really hot in there while we were running errands in town for Mamm, and I forgot to grab it before she drove off.”
Beth frowned. “Seems like you would’ve thought about it the moment you got out of the car.”
Mattie shrugged. “One would think …”
Gideon knew that when Mattie had one thing on her mind, like seeing Beth, she didn’t notice much else until she was in a fix and needed rescuing.
Gideon thrust the coat toward her. “Take it, Mattie Lane.”
Her eyes flashed with an anger much deeper than anything to do with her refusal to borrow his coat. “Do not snap orders at me, Gideon.” She spoke each word slowly, issuing both a boundary line of how to treat her and a threat of a volcanic-sized eruption.
Gideon couldn’t help but chuckle. She’d outgrown being overly nice to everyone, and he was glad to see it. “Finally standing up for yourself. Good for you.”
She moved toward the doorway. “Beth, I’d like to see the rest of your house. And Jonah’s new workshop.”
When he realized his comment had come off as an insult, he flinched. Beth’s brow creased with concern before she placed her arm protectively around Mattie’s shoulders. “Sure.”
Jonah motioned for the women to go on without him.
Gideon stepped ahead of them. “I’m sorry. That was rude. I can’t believe I blurted that out.”
After staring ahead for several long moments, Mattie turned to Beth. “Can I have a minute with Gideon?”
“Ya. Sure.” Beth took Jonah’s hand, and they went down the hallway.
Now that they were alone and could speak freely, Gideon would soon know whether Sol had told her about his visit to the hospital.
She studied Gideon. “I’ve always had a backbone. Any confusion I had about when to use it was your fault, not mine.”
He wasn’t sure exactly what in their past made that statement true, but he nodded. “I ask your forgiveness for thinking otherwise.”
The Amish ways forced her to forgive him, so he felt no sense of release when she said, “Forgiven.”
He held out the coat. “In that case …”
Her eyes, sizing him up, carried disrespect. He still didn’t know if Sol had told her about his visit. She wasn’t as easy to read as he’d expected.
She took the coat from him and slipped it on and, after buttoning it, waggled her shoulders as if enjoying its warmth. “Anything that keeps you uncomfortable while doing the opposite for me works for me. Thanks.”
She shoved her hands into the pockets and left.
Gideon sighed. He had set her free, and she’d prospered from it. She’d gone to Ohio and built a successful business and met Sol. He’d expected her coolness toward him, but he was beginning to question if he could ever be content with it.
Mattie got up from the dinner table and began stacking plates. Oddly enough, after barely stomaching the Thanksgiving meal yesterday with her brother and his family, she’d enjoyed having leftovers today with her parents.
Her mom stood.
“Mamm, take your cue from Daed, and sit.” Mattie patted her mother’s thin, delicate skin.
Daed’s gray hair had the shape of having worn a hat all day. “Ya, Rebecca. What other child do you have who’ll wash dishes?”
Mattie laughed. “The price one pays for having so many sons.”
Mamm sat back down at the table, her eyes bright in spite of the new wrinkles weighing on her eyelids. Mattie’s brothers had been right. She’d needed to come home and spend extra time with their mother.
“Verna came by today while you were out,” Mamm said. “She was bent on seeing you. I promised her you’d walk over there tonight.”
Mattie put the dishes in the sink, wishing her mother hadn’t told Gideon’s grandmother she’d visit. She’d seen Gideon ride bareback past the front window a few minutes ago. While he was working on Beth and Jonah’s home, he was probably staying with his grandmother rather than trekking back and forth from his parents’ place.
His winter jacket hung on the coatrack in the front hallway, and he could go the whole winter without it for all she cared.
“Mattie?” Mamm called.
She turned. “I don’t want to go tonight. Can it wait until tomorrow?”
“I suppose. But I gave my word, and you’re obviously feeling well enough to walk across the street.”
Daed shifted his chair away from the table. “I agree with your Mamm. I don’t want us to have to make up an excuse for why you’re not up to seeing her.”
Mattie stared at Gideon’s coat, hating the idea of having to be nice to him.
Mamm followed her gaze. “What’s wrong?”
Unwilling to burden her mom with petty emotions that should have been long dead by now, she kissed her cheek. “Not a thing. I’ll go see Verna.”
“She’ll be so pleased.”
She put on the co
at Gloria had dropped by the house a few hours ago, then grabbed Gideon’s. Crossing the narrow street, she coached herself on how to speak gently. She climbed the two stone steps, knocked on the door, and waited.
Verna opened the door. “Mattie.” She hugged her warmly. “Kumm mol rei.”
Mattie stepped inside, warmth and the smell of dinner surrounding her. “It’s good to see you. How are you?”
“Fair to middling for a woman my age. I sure was sorry to hear about your cake shop. I remember a couple of years ago when Gideon told your brother about—”
“Mammi Beiler,” Gideon interrupted. He stood at the kitchen table with a plate of pancakes and bacon. “Kumm eat.” He set it on the table.
“Oh, he fixed a meal for me. I’m having breakfast for dinner because yesterday I sent all the Thanksgiving food home with his Mamm. I should go see if it’s any good before it gets cold.” Verna went to a chair and sat.
Gideon walked to Mattie and held out his hand for the coat. “Thanks.”
He didn’t look like the man she’d once loved. That man had been carefree and gentle. This one seemed hardened and weary. Maybe trying to keep an Amish girlfriend while dating Englischer girls did that to a man.
She gave it to him. “Denki for the use of it.”
“Not a problem.”
“It’s clearly mealtime, and I should go.” She turned to Verna. “Good to see you. Maybe you can slip over one morning before I go home. We could have hot chocolate in front of the roaring fire like we used to.”
“And maybe some oddly shaped coffeecake?” Verna asked.
Mattie laughed. “Sure. But if they come out oddly shaped these days, it’ll be intentional on my part.”
“That reminds me.” She stood. “I have something for you. Wait right here.” She headed for the stairs. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to be a few minutes.”
Gideon moved to the stove. “Care for some hot tea?”
“No.” The word came out harsher than she’d intended. It wouldn’t have been easy to be nice to him under the best of circumstances, and she was far from her best self.
He stole a sideways glance before grabbing the kettle off the stove. He reached into a cabinet and pulled down the delicate china cup she’d always used when visiting here. He rinsed and dried it. “I know it’s been rough for you lately.” He set a variety of tea bags on the table and poured hot water into her cup.
She dumped the cup of steaming water into the sink. “Please don’t act like you’re my friend.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
That was the problem. Everything about him offended her. “How’s Ashley?”
Surprise reflected in his eyes for a moment. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“Ya.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s hard to keep the decent ones around when you keep cheating on them.”
Hardness entered his eyes. “Give it a rest, Mattie Lane.”
She took a seat across the table from him, wishing she was in Ohio baking and decorating cakes. And wishing he’d stop calling her Mattie Lane.
They both stared at the kitchen table, and she wondered if he was thinking about the same thing she was—the day she caught him with Ashley.
It’d been Christmas Day. They’d attended the annual Christmas singing on her birthday the night before. She’d enjoyed it as much as ever, except Gideon hadn’t been his usual fun-loving self. When he hugged her good night, he said he was really tired and wouldn’t come over on Christmas. Actually, he’d been using exhaustion as an excuse for weeks, and he’d said the doctor thought he might have mono. So she’d wanted to do something special to help him feel loved until he was on his feet again.
She spent all day making a beautiful Christmas cake to take to him, and she wrote a love letter as part of her Christmas present. She hired a driver to take her the twenty miles to his parents’ home in Plainview.
With his gifts in tow, she arrived at his parents’ place. Gideon lived in a tiny house less than a stone’s throw from his parents, but as a single woman, she couldn’t visit him there.
When his mother opened the door, she stammered something about Gideon not being around and reluctantly invited her in. Mattie tried to have their usual relaxed conversation, but Susie was obviously upset.
Mattie wondered what was going on. If Gideon didn’t feel well enough to come to her place on Christmas Day, why wasn’t he at home resting? She visited for a minute before leaving the cake.
She hadn’t been willing to leave her love letter with his parents, so she went to his little home across the yard, intending to shove it under the door. When she reached his doorstep, she heard voices. She started to knock on the window of the door but then caught a glimpse of him through the curtains. He was holding a woman with long, free-flowing black hair, dressed in jeans and a silky gold jacket. An Englischer.
Jealousy flew over her. Nothing was as insulting as a Plain man wanting a fancy woman. Mattie followed the ways of their people, and he was supposed to respect and honor that, not go chasing after something … someone different.
She opened the door. Gideon and the girl jumped, looking as guilty as forbidden lovers caught in the act. “What’s going on?”
“Mattie.” Gideon was breathless. “What are you doing here?”
“Answer my question. What is going on?” She said each word deliberately.
The woman began to cry. “Tell her, Gideon.”
He rubbed his forehead, a habit he had when trying to figure out what to do. “Okay, Ashley, I will.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “You’re finally going to tell her the truth?”
Finally? How long had Gideon been seeing this Englischer woman?
“Go on home and rest. I’ll be over later tonight.” He escorted Ashley to the door.
Once she was gone, he turned to Mattie. “I … I’d hoped we could get through the holidays before …”
Mattie’s head spun, and her body felt as if it had turned to lead. “Tell me now, Gideon. Right now.”
“I … I think it’s best if you see other people. You’ve never dated anyone else. And I need to be free too.”
Mattie shook all over, trying her best not to cry. “What? Why?”
“It’s the way it needs to be.” His voice wavered, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
He had feelings for her. She could see that even as he broke up with her. But they weren’t enough for him. She’d seen him with Englischer girls before. She’d only been fifteen the first time she saw him getting out of a girl’s car. But he always had some excuse—she’d had a flat tire, and he’d helped change it before she gave him a lift, or she was a stranger dropping by his house to see if he wanted a free puppy.
The night she saw him with Ashley, she had no choice but to set him free and go live with her brother as quickly as she could pack up all her baking equipment.
For three years she’d put her heart and soul into building a new life. And she’d done everything in her power to avoid thinking about Gideon. But seeing him now, in the flesh, brought back memories of all she’d held dear. She’d loved him. But what can be done when the one you love doesn’t feel the same way?
Mattie looked up from the kitchen table, wishing she’d accepted that cup of tea after all. “I’ve met someone.”
Gideon’s jaw clenched. “I’m happy for you.” He brushed his hand along the edge of the table. “That being the case, can we let go of the past and get along as friends?”
“I’ll try.” She played with her empty cup. “I will.”
Verna came into the kitchen with a stack of used cake pans. “I’ve been collecting these for years. Didn’t know why, ’cause you had plenty of your own. But now maybe they’ll help.” She set them on the table in front of Mattie.
“Oh, Verna, this is so kind of you.” Mattie lifted each one. There were heart-shaped, round, rectangular, Bundt, square, and ring pans. “Denki.�
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Tears clouded her vision. The pain of losing her shop and everything in it still rattled her very soul.
Gideon stared into his mug, looking uncomfortable. “I know you’ll consider that what I’m about to say are the words of a man who thinks everything and everyone can be replaced. But you’ll rebuild. Whatever the insurance company doesn’t cover, the communities—both here and there—will.”
She should simply nod, but the need to tell someone who would understand pressed in hard. “I lost the notebook.”
It seemed that grief and disappointment ran through his eyes, and she found a measure of comfort in his compassion for her loss.
After he’d given her the notebook, they’d spent years going places to get ideas for creating cakes and had filled the book with rough sketches they’d drawn and pictures they’d cut out of cake-decorating magazines. She could feel his laughter wash over her as they went through museums, trying to draw ideas as they came up with them when neither one of them was any good at freehand art.
He used to take her to Front Street in Harrisburg, and they would stroll along the Susquehanna. Watching the river was what gave her the idea for her rough-ride icing, which was a huge hit with customers. Then the two of them would eat at the Fire House Restaurant, a renovated fire station built in the eighteen hundreds. Between Gideon’s ideas and other sites in Harrisburg, she’d garnered a lot of her cake-making ideas.
As she sat across from him, remembering so many of their dates, she realized how self-absorbed she’d been. Did they ever do something he enjoyed?
She looked up and met his green eyes, wanting to acknowledge that maybe she had played more of a part in their breakup than she’d admitted. But she couldn’t say it, not without asking why he hadn’t talked to her about what bothered him in their relationship before he cheated.
“I guess the notebook was a little like us—years in the making and destroyed in just a few minutes.” Mattie gathered her pans. “Well, I’m just a bright spot right now, aren’t I? I think I’ll take my gloom elsewhere for a bit.”
Verna hugged her. “You’ll feel better in a few weeks, and you’ll get back on your feet again in a matter of months. You always do.”
The Christmas Singing Page 5
