Gathering the Threads

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “I know it’s Sunday, but I don’t think it can wait until tomorrow. The roof could cave in while we sleep.” Betsy followed him up the stairs.

  Rudy turned to Ariana. “She’s not one to exaggerate. Uncle Sim will return, confirming we need to remove the snow today. I need to be the one up there, not Uncle Sim.”

  Ariana nodded. “I agree. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Let me get the snow removal started, assuring them I’m doing the task, and then I’ll take you to the campsite to meet Quill. I can finish the job when I get back.”

  “Nee. Sim might get on the roof while you’re gone.”

  Rudy glanced toward the stairs, and his shoulders slumped. “True. But I don’t want you going without me.”

  “If that’s how you feel, I won’t stay to talk.” Ariana opened the Tupperware she’d brought with her and slid cookies into it. “But I need to let him know something. Otherwise he’ll think we were delayed, and he’ll stay there in the cold, waiting for hours.”

  “Is that so bad?” Rudy grinned. “Maybe if he gets a little frostbite, it will do me some good.”

  “You’re awful. You know that, right?”

  “I do. It’s you who have no clue.” He winked and took a bite of a cookie.

  “You stay here. Despite the winter wonderland obscuring landmarks, I know how to navigate to that campsite.” She slid the container of cookies and the thermos of coffee into her oversize purse and put it on her shoulder.

  “You’re handing him those things and telling him there can’t be any more texting, calls, or visits. Then you’re leaving, right?”

  “Ya. I promise.”

  He kissed her forehead.

  “Listen.” She cradled his face with her hands. “Tie a rope to the chimney and to you, making sure it’s a strong rope, okay?”

  He kissed her lips. “I’ll be careful.”

  Ariana slid her arms into her coat. “I’ll take your rig since you picked me up.”

  “Good thinking. I won’t need it tomorrow, and I’ll get someone to drop me off at your place later this week.” He kissed her cheek. “You make it quick. Don’t let him keep you there with excuses of any kind.”

  He had no idea who Quill was. Quill would rush her away the moment she said she couldn’t stay even though she wished they could sit down one last time and talk the way they had at the B&B. But those days were behind them. “Okay.”

  Quill turned the knob on the Coleman heater, raising the output of heat.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time. Four fifteen. She was running a few minutes late. The old campsite carried laughter and voices of yesteryear. When Ariana was younger, she tagged along with her brother Mark.

  Mark.

  He was another casualty, another loss. Mark and Quill used to be good friends. Before life fell apart. Quill had been powerless to alter the path of his own life, but he would do all he could to keep Ariana’s life on course.

  Quill was inside an alcove. A path between two boulders connected unused pastureland to this campsite, and inside this area there was flat ground between the rocks and the creek and an alcove where three boulders fit together, blocking the howling wind from those taking refuge in it. He’d removed snow from the rocks and the ground and had set out three folding chairs, old ones from the years when Ariana and Frieda used to go camping.

  A rumble echoed. The earth beneath his feet shook, and the familiar sound of branches breaking vibrated the air. He left the alcove and studied the barren patch of woods across the frozen creek. An eerie silence replaced the grumble.

  “Quill!”

  Ariana’s voice sent millions of goose bumps over him. “Ariana?” He ran down the small path between the two boulders, searching for signs of Rudy and Ariana. His horse whinnied, pawing the ground, but he saw no sign of Ariana.

  “Quill, come back!” Her scream sent his mind reeling.

  He turned, ready to run back to where he’d been, but that made no sense. He commanded his emotions to calm so he could think. As his mind slowed a bit, he realized which direction her voice had come from. He quickly freed the horse’s reins, tugged them, and ran in the direction of Ariana’s voice.

  Another faint yell caused the hair on the back of his neck to rise as if he were a dog with hackles. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Ariana!”

  He listened. Had he imagined she was calling to him? It wouldn’t be the first time, but he’d never answered before. In the past he’d always known it was his conscience, his dreams, his soul calling to him.

  He hurried down the path, looking for signs of her. Through the barren woods he saw a horse and carriage where she would’ve left it to go on foot through the woods to the old campsite. He headed that way, leading the horse and moving quickly. “Ariana!”

  As he walked among the trees, he saw where her footprints veered off the trail. He followed them and saw a dead tree that had broken under the weight of the snow. Limbs were scattered over the ground. He continued following the footprints until he saw her about fifty yards away. Why was she walking that way? She knew these woods, this area, as well as he did.

  “Ariana!”

  Rays of light surrounded her. She had a leather satchel slung across her body and a black winter bonnet covering her head. The brim of her winter bonnet was wide and followed the curve of her face, limiting her peripheral vision. But it was Ariana bundled under that coat and bonnet.

  When he took another step, he sank into snow that came up to his knees. “Ariana.” He pulled himself onto the horse.

  Why was she still walking deeper into the woods? Quill dug his heels into the horse’s sides, clicking his tongue. Soon he was within feet of her. “Ari.”

  She turned, looking confused. “It wasn’t you?”

  “No. Did you see someone?” He dismounted. In all their years of coming here, he hadn’t seen another person in this area.

  “I…I thought it was you. He…he called to me, and I…I…” She held her head as if it hurt.

  “A dead tree fell near some of your footprints. Were you hit by a falling limb?”

  “Nee.”

  He moved in closer. “Take off your bonnet.”

  When she ignored him, he untied and removed it. She had on her white prayer Kapp, straight pins keeping it neatly in place. She had smudges of blood on her forehead, but he saw no gash or cuts. “I need to check your head, okay?”

  Again she said nothing.

  He ran his fingers lightly over her head, feeling for bumps or cuts. “Do you recall being hit when the tree broke?”

  She pulled away. “The man…”

  Quill looked across the ground nearby and saw only her footprints. Added to that, he didn’t like how shaken she seemed to be. “Where’s Rudy?”

  “He couldn’t come.”

  He tugged on the reins, bringing the horse closer to her. But Ariana just stood there, staring into the woods.

  He tilted her chin, gazing into her eyes. “Ari, do you know what day it is?”

  “I…” She looked behind her. “It wasn’t you?”

  He shook his head and pressed his fingers against her face so she would look at him. “What day is it?”

  She stared at him, her scattered emotions seeming to settle a bit. “It’s the first Sunday in February, a between-church day, and I’ve been back in Summer Grove three weeks, and yet I’ve managed to anger and alienate half of the community, including my Daed.” She rattled off the list, and her eyes filled with tears.

  He wanted to pull her into his arms and assure her it would all blow over soon. Maybe it wasn’t traces of blood on her face. Maybe it was dirt from under some thin patch of snow.

  She shivered, but all she’d shared seemed to indicate she didn’t have a concussion. Maybe stress and cold were causing her to see things. “Let’s go to Mamm’s, or maybe you should go home.” He couldn’t take her all the way to her house, because if she was seen with him, it would cause far more
trouble for her. But he could get her close and watch until she was inside.

  “A man was right there.” She pointed deeper into the woods. “Evidently it wasn’t you, but he needed me to follow him. He needed my help.” She rubbed her shoulder.

  “Did something hit your shoulder?”

  “Maybe.” She tilted her head. “We’re not supposed to see each other anymore. I wasn’t supposed to stay. Rudy’s patience with everything…with me is thin.”

  He swallowed hard. “Sure.”

  She gazed into the woods. “But you need me, don’t you?”

  “No, Ari.”

  She sounded only slightly coherent. The snow was up to her bare knees under her dress and had to be in her boots. Did hypothermia make people see things? Regardless, he needed to stop looking for a stranger and get Ariana someplace warm.

  “But…you said…he said…” Her breath was raspy, and her shivering increased as she pointed into the woods. “You did.”

  Quill had no idea what was going on, but being practical seemed the best way to move forward. “He’s not the man you’ll need to answer to.” He grabbed the horse’s reins again. “Kumm.” He interlaced his fingers for her to use as a step.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  He wanted her warm for sure and maybe to see a doctor. “You thought it was me, and it wasn’t. So, please, come on.” He motioned for her again, but she stayed put. “Now, Ari,” he growled.

  She looked into the woods, obviously trying to catch a glimpse of the man. “Could you please stop ordering me around?” She sounded more preoccupied than annoyed.

  “Gladly. Just as soon as you stop being difficult. When did you become like this?”

  She turned, gazing up at him, disappointment seemingly mixed with disbelief in her hauntingly beautiful eyes. “So that’s how you see me? Difficult? I’m the problem?”

  “At this moment? Yes.” He pointed. “Get on the horse, and when you get warm and dry, get to a doctor.”

  She stared at him, disbelief showing more clearly on her face.

  He removed his coat and put it around her shoulders. “If you don’t get on the horse, I’m going to put you on it. Are we clear?”

  “It’s clear.” But other than trembling she didn’t budge. “I’m not the problem.”

  He bent and lifted her at the waist with his shoulder as if he were carrying a sack of feed.

  “Quill, you’re not hearing me.”

  He sat her on the horse, both legs on one side, but he knew she’d have to straddle it or chance falling off. She intertwined her fingers with the horse’s mane.

  “Yeah, well, apparently neither one of us is capable of hearing the other one.”

  “You’re being just like Daed and the bishop.”

  He could have ripped out his hair in frustration. Her words cut, and it wasn’t true, but right now as her lips were turning blue and she began shivering harder, he didn’t care. “Now that you’ve got that clear, go home.”

  He slapped the horse’s rear, and it took off toward the path and then headed out of the woods.

  With this much snow, he could safely let the Coleman burn itself out. He strode through the woods toward her rig, determined to follow her and make sure she got home safely. Despite the trees between them, he saw her come to a stop near the carriage, get off his horse, and get into the rig.

  His pulse beat against his temples as he assured himself it was time to walk away. She didn’t need him, and Rudy was no longer fine with their relationship. He’d known this day was coming. But he’d expected to be able to say a reasonable good-bye.

  Colored streamers hung across the ceiling, and balloons were tied to the kitchen chairs as Skylar spread chocolate frosting across the top of the huge cake. Her siblings had ushered Lovina and Isaac into their bedroom a couple of hours ago, and then they helped decorate this room in a way it’d never been decorated before.

  Other than the party frills, it was another Sunday afternoon that felt like something from a hundred years ago. The living room was teeming with siblings, spouses, nieces, and nephews, all wearing old-fashioned clothes. A roaring fire was keeping the winter chill out, and the aroma of fresh-baked goods filled the air. The house hummed with life, and none of it was artificial—no earphones plugged into a device, no electronic games, no voices coming from a TV.

  This way of life had some powerful, soul-strengthening aspects that had helped her get clean and start thinking about life differently. But she couldn’t discount the other parts of living Amish. The overzealous authority of her Amish dad. The lack of musical instruments, which she would remedy now that she had some money, but where would she be allowed to play? Her Amish mom and siblings accepting that Ariana wasn’t allowed to return to work at the café. Not that Skylar minded that part, but it was odd that everyone remained calm and passive about Ariana’s new misfortune, as if she deserved what was going on. Skylar could come clean about the phone, but apparently that wasn’t much of an issue any longer. Ariana had turned it off and put it away.

  Martha came to the counter and covertly slid a card toward Skylar. “All of us have signed except Ariana.”

  “She’s been gone since we started pulling this together before lunch.”

  Martha held up a pen. “I could sign it for her. It won’t matter as long as she’s here in time for cake.”

  Skylar nodded, weary of feeling like a cat facing a dog when it came to Ariana. She put a few candles on the cake. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday, but what was a surprise without someone having to blow out candles.

  “Hey.” Salome walked into the kitchen with her husband and their brood behind her. “I thought Ariana was going to be back by now. I’ve held off the gang about as long as I can, and I’m sure Mamm and Daed are ready to be released from their room. The cake ready?”

  “Ya.” Martha gestured toward it as if she were Vanna White showcasing the letter board.

  Even Skylar’s married siblings who didn’t live in this house were here—Malinda, Abner, Ivan, and their respective spouses and broods. The children were restless, ready to spring the surprise on their grandparents and have cake.

  Skylar set the cake in the center of the table. “Maybe we should—”

  “Grossmammi! Kumm!” Ten-year-old Andrew hollered up the stairs, drowning out Skylar’s suggestion that they wait for Ariana.

  John, the youngest Brenneman sibling and barely more than a year older than his nephew, ran toward the stairs. “Mamm! Daed!”

  “Is Ari here?” Mark asked.

  Martha shook her head, but the older grandchildren, all twelve of them, had raced after John, hurrying up the stairs, whooping and squealing with delight. There was no stopping the party at this point.

  Abram, Susie, and Mark joined the adults around the dining room table. The house had thirty people in it. Maybe Ariana would arrive before Isaac and Lovina realized she wasn’t there.

  Lovina and Isaac floated down the steps, laughing while talking to the grandchildren. The children sang a few lines of a slow song, but its rhythm was faster than anything Skylar had heard at church. Of course she recognized very few words, but the adults joined in, and when it ended, no one clapped, only stood, all smiles and calmness.

  Isaac scanned his adult children. “Was iss geh uff?”

  Martha picked up the envelope from the table and passed it to them.

  After Isaac and Lovina studied the card and the handwritten gift card, their faces lit up—a mixture of joy and humility radiating from them.

  “New plumbing?” Lovina burst into tears. Isaac’s eyes twinkled as if he had a few tears in his own eyes. They hugged their children, laughing and clearly proud of their family, seemingly unaware Ariana was absent.

  Skylar lit the candles.

  Salome gestured. “Kumm. Out the light.” Salome winked at Skylar, and Skylar was sure it was an Amish saying.

  The room erupted in laughter and chatter. After Isaac and Lovina blew out the candles as a team, th
ey hugged their children and grandchildren. Susie began cutting the cake and doling it out judiciously to the grandchildren.

  Something near the doorway caught Skylar’s attention.

  Ariana.

  The part of her dress that hung below her coat appeared to be wet and stiff, and her face was pale. But more than that, she appeared frazzled, as if she was on the verge of a meltdown. Who could blame her?

  She closed the door, and the room slowly grew quiet as each person noticed her. John rushed to her with a plate of cake. “Mamm and Daed are getting new plumbing. No more sopping up water from broken pipes or hauling water from the well.”

  Ariana’s smile was faint. “That’s great.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d been crying.

  “Ya.” John pushed the plate toward her, as enthusiastic as any eleven-year-old boy with cake. “It’s a party. Skylar did it.”

  If Skylar had wanted to exclude Ariana and make it clear to Lovina and Isaac that Ariana had no part in this, she’d accomplished her goal. But the victory sliced a gash in Skylar’s soul.

  Ariana looked at her family, tears welling as she nodded. “That’s so wonderful.” She hugged John as if her emotions were from excitement, but if any of the adults believed that, Skylar wasn’t one of them. Ariana’s eyes met Abram’s, and in that moment an entire conversation seemed to take place. They were the real twins, and no amount of manipulation from Skylar would change that.

  Ariana walked toward Skylar, and Skylar’s first reaction was to run. Ariana clutched her hand and nodded. “Good party in every way, Skylar.”

  As crazy as it seemed, Ariana seemed to mean it. Why was her hand so very cold? She turned to her Mamm and Daed and said, “Congratulations.” When she removed her leather satchel and coat, it was evident her dress was wet and parts were frozen. “I’ll be down in a bit. I need to change.”

  Lovina took the coat and satchel from Ariana. “What happened, child?”

  Ariana’s eyes swam in tears. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “I’m fine.” She cleared her throat and looked at her youngest brother. “You guys leave me a piece of that cake.” She went up the stairs.