by Beth Wiseman
An hour later Anne Marie finished making the soup. Her mother was right—it hadn’t been that hard to make. The most difficult part had been the most tedious—picking the meat off the chicken bones. She took a taste and thought it was decent, but nowhere near her mother’s standard.
She let the soup simmer on the stove so it would still be warm when her mother came home, whenever that would be. She’d left a few minutes ago without an explanation—and without giving Anne Marie a chance to ask her about the pocketed letter.
She looked down at the red mark on her arm. A shiver ran through her as she remembered Nathaniel’s gentle breath on the welt. He was being nice, of course. But that didn’t keep goose bumps from forming on her skin at the memory.
Anne Marie entered her mother’s bedroom looking for some salve to put on the burn. Her bed was neatly made with her grandmother’s quilt and one of Aunt Miriam’s beautiful lap quilts folded across the end. The faded fabric of the old quilt contrasted with the sharper colors of Miriam’s quilt. But both were beautiful.
She went to her mother’s side table and opened the drawer. Mamm kept everything from adhesive bandages to sewing needles to ink pens in the messy drawer, the only untidy place in their house.
Anne Marie searched through the deep drawer, lifting objects and looking for the small cylinder that held the homemade salve. She spied it in the far back of the drawer. As she moved the random contents aside to reach for the jar, she touched a stack of papers held together with a rubber band. She pulled it out. Letters.
Unable to help herself, she looked at the return address. Thomas Nissley, Walnut Creek, Ohio. Her brow scrunched. As far as she knew, her family didn’t know anyone in Walnut Creek.
She should put the letters back. But curiosity won over indecision and she slipped one of the envelopes out of the pack and lifted the already opened seal. She began to read, ignoring her guilt.
“Anne Marie?” Nathaniel walked into the kitchen. He’d left Jonah and Christopher to stack the rest of the firewood before sundown. Before he went home he wanted to check on Anne Marie’s arm. It was a small burn, but he couldn’t leave without making sure she was okay.
He faced the empty kitchen and looked at the pot of soup on the stove. His stomach rumbled. He fetched a spoon from the drawer and took another taste. Now it was perfect. Even though she always denied it, Anne Marie was just as good of a cook as her mother. “Anne Marie, do you care if I have some more of this soup?” he called out.
She didn’t answer. He headed into the living room. Not finding her there, he started walking through the house, calling her name. When he was midway down the hall, he spied a light peeking through the crack at the bottom of Lydia’s bedroom door. He frowned. He had seen Anne Marie’s mother leave earlier in the day, so why was the light on in her room?
Nathaniel pushed open the door a little farther and saw Anne Marie sitting on the bed, reading a letter. Next to her, more letters were littered on the pastel quilt covering Lydia’s bed. The lines on Anne Marie’s forehead deepened. “Anne Marie?”
Her head shot up, and he saw the fury in her eyes. She stood, holding out one of the letters in her hand. “How could she do this?” she said, thrusting the letter at Nathaniel.
“Do what?”
She whirled around, her cheeks as red as holly berries. She started to pace. “I can’t believe this.”
“Anne Marie—”
“It’s one thing to keep a secret. I mean, I’ve kept my fair share of secrets.” She glanced at him. “But to do this?” She held up the letter.
He walked over to her and thought about putting his hand on her shoulder, but quickly changed his mind. “Anne Marie, calm down. It can’t be that bad.”
“Ach, it’s bad. Sehr bad.” She opened the letter. “ ‘My dearest Lydia,’ ” she read aloud. “ ‘I never thought I would feel this way about a woman again. It gives my heart wings to know you feel the same way.’ ” She pursed her lips in a sour expression. “Gives his heart wings? What kind of romantic nonsense is that?”
Nathaniel didn’t think it was too bad. But he did feel like an intruder.
Anne Marie plopped on the bed, her shoulders slumping. “She’s been writing to him for months. Apparently she’s in love with him.” She looked up. “Oh, and he’s coming for Christmas. When was she going to tell us? When he landed on our doorstep? ‘Oh, by the way, this is Thomas, my secret beau that I didn’t bother telling anyone about. Merry Christmas!’ ”
Nathaniel bit his lip to keep from chuckling. Anne Marie in a snit was entertaining. But he didn’t want her anger directed at him. He cleared his throat and sat down next to her. “I’m sure your mother had her reasons for not telling you.”
“They better be gut ones.”
“What’s going on here?”
Nathaniel froze at the sound of Lydia’s sharp voice. He glanced at her standing in the doorway, her nostrils flaring much in the same way Anne Marie’s had moments ago.
Lydia crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you two doing in my bedroom?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Anne Marie jumped from the bed and faced her mother. “Don’t be upset with him. He was only checking on me.”
Her mother uncrossed her arms, lowering them to her sides. “Nathaniel, I think you should leave.”
Nathaniel rose. He glanced at Anne Marie, concern in his eyes. She looked away. He slipped out the door, not saying anything to either of them.
Lydia shut the door behind him. She looked at the letters on the bed. “I see you’ve been snooping.”
“I wasn’t snoop—”
“Don’t lie.” Lydia scooped up the letters.
“I was looking for salve for my burn—the one I got making your recipe, by the way.” She lifted her chin. She sounded childish, but she didn’t care.
Lydia folded the letters carefully and began putting them in the envelopes. “How did the soup turn out?”
“Soup? Don’t you think we have something more important to talk about?”
Her mom turned to Anne Marie, her eyes starting to blaze. “I’m trying not to lose my temper. I’m very disappointed in you.”
“Disappointed in me? You’re the one keeping secrets.”
She averted her eyes. “I was going to tell you and the buwe about Thomas.”
“Before or after the wedding?”
Lydia froze, keeping her gaze from Anne Marie.
Dread pooled inside Anne Marie. “Nee . . . you’re not . . .”
Her mother sat down on the bed. She moved the letters to the side and patted the empty space beside her. “Anne Marie, sit down.”
“I’m fine standing.”
Lydia sighed. “All right. As I said, I was waiting until the time was right. You’ve been busy with your candlemaking, and I’ve been trying to get things ready for the cookbook.”
It sounded like a list of excuses to Anne Marie. “Who is Thomas?”
“He’s a mann I knew from my childhood. He used to live in Paradise. When he was twelve, he moved to Walnut Creek. Like me, he married and had children, although now they are grown and have their own families. He’s lived alone for several years.”
Anne Marie refused to feel sorry for him. But she couldn’t help but soften her stance a little. “How did you start talking to him again?”
“He came to Paradise six months ago, to visit his bruder’s familye. I was delivering some soaps and candles, and when I saw him . . .” Her eyes grew wistful. “He recognized me right away.”
“How romantic.” Anne Marie nibbled on her finger, unable to keep the bitterness out of her tone. “Love at first sight.”
“Nee, it wasn’t like that. You have to understand, Anne Marie. I loved your daed very much. I never thought I’d fall in love with someone else. But something changed these past few months. Thomas started writing me first. Friendly letters, reminiscing about childhood. Then the letters became more personal.”
“So I read.”
&n
bsp; Her mother scowled. “You’re not making this easy, dochder.”
“You should have said something to me. To all of us.”
Mamm raised her voice. “I’m not allowed to have anything of mei own? Any privacy?”
Anne Marie opened her mouth, then shut it. She looked at the letters. Her mother was right. But that didn’t change anything.
“Thomas is visiting his bruder for Christmas. He’ll be coming here to meet you and Jonah and Christopher.” Her mother stood, squaring her shoulders as she faced Anne Marie. “You will treat him better than you’ve treated me today.”
Anne Marie pressed her lips to keep from saying something she’d regret.
“Since you want to know everything,” Mamm continued, “I went to see Miriam today. I needed her advice about Thomas.”
“And?”
The hardness in Mamm’s eyes softened. “He asked me to marry him.” She smiled. “And when he comes here for Christmas, I’m going to tell him ya.”
Although the words made Anne Marie take a step back, she couldn’t deny the look of love in her mother’s eyes. She looked away, guilt gnawing at her. She’d been unfair to her mother. And immature.
“Say something, Anne Marie. Please.”
Anne Marie finally looked up, the glistening tears in her mother’s eyes melting away the betrayal. “I want you to be happy, Mamm.” She took a deep breath, forcing out the words. “If Thomas makes you happy, then that’s what counts.”
Her mother hugged her. “Danki, Anne Marie.” She stepped back, wiping her eyes. “I understand why you were upset. It’s a lot to take in, especially when we start packing for the move—”
“What move?”
Her mother paused. “The move to Ohio.”
Anne Marie’s chest felt like a load of baled hay landed on it. “Moving? We’re moving?”
“Thomas’s home is in Walnut Cre—”
“Our home is here.”
“And his business is there. I can produce my cookbooks anywhere. Although I probably won’t anymore. I want to focus on making a gut home for our familye.”
“We have a gut home.” She spread her arms, gesturing to the space around them. “We always have.”
“And we will have one in Walnut Creek.”
“What about Miriam? Grossmutter and Grossvatter have already moved away. You’ll leave her here alone?”
“I talked to her about that too. She’ll miss us, but she understands. And Seth’s family is here. She’ll hardly be alone.” Mamm took Anne Marie’s hand. “I know it will be a big adjustment for everyone.”
She pulled her hand from her mother’s. “I won’t leave. I can live with Miriam and Seth.”
“You can’t. You know how small their haus is.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Mamm rubbed her fingers across her forehead. “Miriam and Seth would take you in if you asked, but you know it would be a hardship. And unnecessary, since you would have a home with me and Thomas.”
Anne Marie blinked away the tears. Her mother and Thomas. It sounded strange. Unnatural. But her mother spoke of her future husband as if he’d always been a part of her life. She spoke of Thomas with love.
Her heart constricted. What about her life? Her friends, her candlemaking business? She had to start everything over because her mother fell in love?
“Now that you know,” Mamm said, sounding more cheerful than she had in a long time, “we can start packing. The wedding will be in early January. We’ll move right after that.”
Anne Marie fisted her hands together. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t leave everything she knew. Everyone she loved.
“Mamm?” Jonah’s voice sounded from the opposite end of the house. “Anne Marie?”
Her mother sighed. “I guess it’s time to tell the buwe.” She looked at Anne Marie, hope in her eyes. “It would help if you could be supportive and an example for your bruders. You’re not the only one having to sacrifice.”
Anger bubbled up inside her. Unable to speak, she rushed past her mother, past Jonah and Christopher in the living room.
“Hey!” Jonah said, spinning around. “Where are you going?”
“Out.” She opened the front door and ran into the cold evening, the screen door slamming behind her.
Nathaniel guided his buggy down the road, tucking his chin into his coat to ward off the chill. Good thing his horse knew the way home, as he wasn’t as focused on driving as he should be. Anne Marie consumed his thoughts.
She was overreacting, but he sympathized with her. He couldn’t put himself in her place, since his parents had been married for years. Just thinking about one of them being with someone else was impossible. But Lydia deserved to be happy. So did Anne Marie.
A car behind him honked its horn, pulling his attention back to the road. As the vehicle zoomed past, Nathaniel looked in his side mirror. He squinted in the pale light of dusk. Someone was walking behind him. As he slowed his buggy, he could see it was Anne Marie.
He pulled the buggy to a stop, holding the reins as he came to a halt on the shoulder of the road. Although her street wasn’t busy, it was best to be cautious. As she neared, he could see her rubbing her hands over her arms.
“Anne Marie,” he said, moving toward her but keeping a grip on the horse. If he let go, his horse would head straight home. Anne Marie stopped a few feet away. “What are you doing out here?” he asked. When she didn’t say anything, he tilted his head toward the buggy. “Get in.”
She shook her head but walked toward the buggy.
“Wait.” He slipped off his jacket and handed it to her. “You’re freezing. Put this on.”
“Then you’ll freeze.”
“I’ll be all right.”
She looked at the coat for a moment, then took it. The edge of the sleeves reached past her fingertips. Then she climbed into the buggy. When they were on their way, he said, “Want to talk about it?”
“Nee.” Her voice sounded thick.
His heart lurched. Anne Marie was several things: a bit excitable, a little melodramatic, and occasionally annoying. She was also tough. During their long friendship, he’d only seen her cry once, and that was when they were talking after her father’s funeral. Whatever happened between her and Lydia after he left was serious.
Without thinking twice, he reached for her hand. She gripped it. Her fingers were cold, but they soon warmed in his palm. Neither of them spoke as he drove to his house. When he pulled into his driveway, he stopped in front of the clock shop. “Are you ready to talk now? We can geh into the workshop. Nee one will bother us there.”
She nodded. Looked at him with tears in her eyes.
And his heart melted.
CHAPTER SIX
“Here. This will warm you a little more.”
Anne Marie took the mug of coffee from Nathaniel. “I never knew you had a coffeepot in here.”
“It’s in the back. We use a camping stove to percolate it. Daed can’t geh more than a couple of hours without his kaffee.”
She took a sip of the hot, strong brew as she sat on Nathaniel’s workbench. He pulled a chair over and sat across from her, holding his own mug. “Now are you ready to tell me what’s going on?”
Anne Marie paused. She didn’t want to say the words out loud. But Nathaniel would find out soon enough, as would the rest of the district. She wanted him to hear it from her. “We’re moving.”
He frowned. “Who’s moving?”
“My mamm, mei bruders . . . me.” She explained everything to Nathaniel.
He became very still, as he usually did when he was deep in thought. But his expression remained unreadable. Finally he leaned forward. “I know you’re upset, Anne Marie, but this isn’t the end of the world.”
The warmth she’d felt from the coffee and his coat dissipated. “That’s easy for you to say.” Her eyes narrowed. “Your world hasn’t been turned upside down.”
“Look, I don’t like the idea of you movin
g either.” He stared at his coffee. “I really don’t like it,” he mumbled.
“What?”
He looked at her again, a muscle twitching in his left cheek. “At least you’re not moving too far.”
“Nathaniel, it’s Ohio. That’s a day’s ride on a bus.”
“Ya. Just a day’s ride. It could be worse. You could be going to Florida.”
“It doesn’t make any difference.” She set the mug on his spotless workbench, next to an old clock. “What if I lose touch with everyone here?”
“That won’t happen. There are letters—”
“You know I don’t like writing letters. I don’t even mail out cards.”
“Then you’ll have to come back to visit. And I’ll come visit you.”
She looked at him, trying to judge if he was serious. He glanced down at his mug so she couldn’t read his expression. Then he looked up, smiling. “And until you move, I promise we’ll spend as much time together as we can.”
She shot up from the bench. “But what if it isn’t enough?” she said, shoving her hands into the pockets of his coat. She wasn’t cold anymore, but for some reason she didn’t want to take it off. “I feel like I’m losing everything. My home. My friends . . .” She looked at him. “You.”
He stood and faced her, his deep brown eyes meeting hers. “That won’t happen. I promise.”
The words were easy to say with only a few inches between them. With a few months and several hundred miles separating them, there was no guarantee they would stay close. “I want to believe you.”
“Then do.”
She kept her gaze locked on his, and for the first time since her world had been flipped over, her pulse slowed. His steady presence had that effect on her. She forced a small smile. “I should geh. I don’t want to worry Mamm.”
“I thought you were mad at her.”
