“Gonna take a big tub of water to get you clean,” Sarah Rose said, smirking.
She started to turn, then apparently thought better of it. “Anna, can you stay for supper?”
“Sarah Rose, Anna might have plans.” But he hoped not. He didn’t have any idea what he’d make if she said yes, but he’d like the chance to try.
Anna glanced at Gideon, then back at her. “I have to take Annie B. some yarn.”
“Couldn’t you to do that and come back?”
He decided on the spot that his daughter could jump in puddles every day since she’d come up with such a great question.
“Couldn’t you?” he asked, and their eyes met. He saw Anna’s widen, and she shifted the reins in her hands in what seemed like a nervous gesture.
“I—suppose so. I’ll go do that now and be back in about a half hour.”
“You really think you’ll get away from her that quickly?”
She laughed again and shook her head. “Probably not. I was being optimistic.”
“See you when you get here. It’ll give me time to get the mud off and start something for supper.”
“See you soon.”
She got the buggy moving. Once she was a few yards away, she glanced back over her shoulder and waved at him. He waved back.
The afternoon that had seemed so gray and bleak as he watched his little girl walking home had suddenly become very bright indeed.
A delicious aroma hit her the moment she stepped onto the porch.
Gideon answered the door and ushered her in, inviting her to sit at the kitchen table while he finished supper.
“You’re here,” said Sarah Rose as she walked into the room. “I thought you’d never get here.”
Anna smiled at how it came out part complaint, part delight. How nice it felt to be looked forward to. She bent to hug her. “I’m sorry. I was talking to Annie B.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Gideon said, giving his daughter a stern look. “You were on your way to see her when we invited you to supper. Sarah Rose, you need to wash your hands and set the table.”
“But they’re clean,” she protested. “I just took a bath.”
“And then got dressed and put your shoes on and tied them. So wash your hands, please.”
“How can I help?”
“Everything’s ready,” Gideon told her. “I should have asked if you like macaroni and cheese. We have it often here since it’s Sarah Rose’s favorite. And it’s easy for me to make.”
“It’s Jacob’s recipe,” Sarah Rose told her as she placed a plate on the table before Anna. “You know, Jacob who’s married to Mary Katherine, your cousin.”
Gideon drew on a pair of oven mitts, opened the oven, and pulled out a casserole. “He’s given me a couple of recipes,” Gideon told her.
Anna remembered how Jacob had told her he’d been forced to learn how to cook when he offended one of his sisters by saying there wasn’t anything to cooking. His supply of home-delivered meals from his sisters and mother had immediately dried up.
She wondered if Gideon had experienced the same experience learning to cook that Jacob had: he’d told them a funny story about how the first time cooking supper for himself he’d managed to cut a finger chopping vegetables, burn his hand, and set fire to a kitchen towel set too close to the gas stove. Exhausted from a long day of farming chores, he’d fallen asleep at the kitchen table and only awakened when the macaroni and cheese casserole had started burning.
Now Jacob’s practice had paid off, and Mary Katherine enjoyed occasional help in the kitchen. She helped him with the farm when she could, just as many Amish wives did.
Had Gideon helped Mary in the kitchen? If not, he’d had to learn when he lost his wife. He’d learned how to take care of his little girl as well.
She, on the other hand, hadn’t had to take on another role like Gideon. She’d started working full-time instead of part-time to support herself, but it hadn’t been a hardship. Working in the shop would be a dream for anyone but especially someone who loved crafts as much as she. But she hadn’t taken on any of the roles of the other partner in the marriage the way he had. She didn’t do any carpentry or any of the maintenance to speak of. Her attempt to fix a pipe had shown her how woeful her skills were in taking care of her home. And Eli leased part of the land and farmed it.
She hadn’t had to raise a child by herself.
Sarah Rose added paper napkins to each plate and then sat down. Anna spread hers on her lap and frowned when her skinned knuckles stung a little. She pulled one of her hands from her lap and stared at the abused skin.
“How’d you hurt your hand?” Sarah Rose asked her.
“I was trying to fix a leaky pipe. But I’m no plumber.”
Gideon set a bowl of green beans on the table and leaned over to study her hand. “Did you clean it good?”
“The pipe?”
“Your hand,” he said patiently.
She smiled. “I knew what you meant. Yes. Put some antibiotic cream on it, too. I’m not a plumber, but I know about first aid.”
“I’ll come over and take a look at it tomorrow,” he told her as he took a seat. “The pipe, not the hand.”
“No need. I’m sure I can ask one of my brothers to do it.”
“You tried to fix it instead of calling them. Why?”
She shrugged. “Well, they’re so busy. I hate to bother them.”
They said a silent prayer over their meal and then began filling their plates. Gideon had duplicated Jacob’s recipe exactly—it was cheesy and warming and perfect for a simple supper.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Sarah Jane asked around a mouthful. When he saw her father frown, she shut her mouth and chewed. “Daedi cooks good.”
“I have a few things I cook well but not many,” he said with a shrug. “I’m working at getting better. Jacob and I have swapped recipes. But that’s not for public knowledge.”
Anna tried to keep a straight face. “Are you afraid the other men in the community will think you’re less manly?”
“It’s not funny. You know some of them think men and women have certain roles.”
“Do you think that’s really true these days? If it ever was? We’ve always worked together as partners in the community. And when we’re—” she stopped, glanced at Sarah Rose who was finishing up the last of her supper, and she hesitated.
“Sarah Rose, do you want more macaroni and cheese, or are you ready for dessert?”
“Dessert!”
Gideon grinned. “Well, what a surprise.”
“Can I pick?”
“Maybe we should let our guest decide.”
Sarah Rose considered that, and although Anna could tell she wanted to choose, she nodded. The kind might be having some problems, but her good manners prevailed.
“I’d rather you choose,” Anna said. “I don’t know what you have.”
“Two kinds of ice cream and some chocolate chip cookies Daedi and I made last night.” She thought about that for a moment. “We could make ice-cream sandwiches!”
“I would never have thought of that,” Anna told her. “I’d like one.”
“Vanilla or chocolate chip ice cream?”
“Can’t have enough chocolate chips. I’ll have the chocolate chip ice cream.”
Sarah Rose looked to her father and got the same order. She went off happily to make the requested desserts.
“Now, what did you start to say?” Gideon asked, turning back to her.
Anna bit her lip. “When we’re widowed, things often change. You had to start taking care of Sarah Rose, and that involved doing things you hadn’t before—things that a mamm usually does. And you’ve done them well. Some men would have just gotten remarried quickly so they didn’t have to do things that weren’t easy.”
His eyes searched hers. “Well, danki. That’s very nice of you to say.”
“I’m not trying to be nice,” she said, straightening. “I’m not tha
t nice.”
“What?”
Her face flamed. Why had she blurted that out? She sounded like an insecure teen. But she was feeling a little off-kilter lately, realizing that she was still trapped in a self-prison of grief that left her with conflicting emotions.
And this attraction she felt for Gideon. She’d never been interested in anyone but Samuel. He’d been her friend at school and then the boy she went with to singings and other church functions and then the one she’d exchanged that first tentative kiss with . . . and then her husband. It felt strange . . . and a little unnerving to be around a man who seemed interested in her. She didn’t know how to act.
“What about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“What have you learned to do since Samuel died?”
Her gaze fell to her plate. “Well, I haven’t had to raise a kind on my own. And I certainly haven’t learned how to do home maintenance very well.”
“But you’ve learned how to support yourself. And you’re a great teacher. Sarah Rose and I have learned how to knit, and your class is so much fun she looks forward to it.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
He frowned. “She doesn’t seem to like school very much.”
“Jenny talked to her at the shop, and that’s what she said. Mary Katherine didn’t like school very much. She was so creative and just wanted to daydream and sketch designs for her weaving once she got interested in it. Everyone’s not the same. Maybe Sarah Rose just hasn’t discovered what she’d like to do yet and doesn’t think school will help her with it.”
“I never thought about it that way.” He looked at the kitchen window, but Anna felt he was looking inward. Then he shook his head and got up to pour them more coffee.
Sarah Rose walked in with a plate of cookie sandwiches with enormous scoops of ice cream in the middle. Anna didn’t know how she was going to get one in her mouth, but there was no way she was going to say that. The child was wearing an enormous grin.
“Look what I made!”
“I can’t wait to try one.”
She was offered the first choice as the guest and chose the smallest, but still, the cookies were big, there were two of them, and they were stuffed with an enormous gob of chocolate chip ice cream. By the time she finished eating it on top of the macaroni and cheese supper, she was stuffed.
“I’m just going to roll home,” she said with a satisfied sigh. “I won’t even need the buggy.” Anna glanced at the window. “And speaking of getting home, I hate to eat and run, but I need to get home soon.”
She stood and began picking up the empty plates.
“Guests shouldn’t—”
“Don’t be silly,” she told him. “You cooked, and Sarah Rose set the table and made dessert. I should do the dishes.”
“She’s right, Daedi,” Sarah Rose said, clearly liking Anna’s statement.
“We don’t take advantage of friends,” he chided. “Now, how about you wash and I’ll dry and put away, and then we’ll follow Anna home to make sure she gets there safely.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“We do,” he said firmly. “It’s getting dark.”
She wanted to argue with him, but Sarah Rose watched them avidly and she sensed it wasn’t a good thing to do in front of her.
It felt good to sit and relax in the warm, cozy kitchen and rest after a busy day on her feet. But as she watched this handsome man as he moved around so comfortably in a room many Amish men shied away from working in, she couldn’t help envying his easy relationship with his daughter.
They’d talked about how their lives, their roles, had changed after the deaths of their spouses. She wondered if it had been easier for him or harder that he’d had Sarah Rose to care for after Mary died. In a way, it meant that he’d had to push himself to look out for someone else rather than dwell in grief the way she’d done for so long. Then again, he had someone to live for, someone who obviously loved him.
It was wrong to envy, but she felt that emotion. She’d waited and hoped for some sign that Samuel would leave her a part of himself after he died, but God hadn’t had that in His plan for her.
She wondered what He did have planned for her. Widows and widowers often remarried without a long wait here. Some reasoned that God didn’t want you to do without love and companionship . . . He wanted you to add to your family if you were still in your childbearing years. Samuel had even talked to Anna just before he died about hoping God would send another mann to love and care for her and protect her after he was gone.
“Anna, can I get you anything? More coffee?”
“Maybe you want another ice-cream sandwich?” Sarah Rose asked with a note of hopefulness in her voice.
“Sounds like someone else does.”
She just grinned.
Anna couldn’t help smiling. Sarah Rose was a sweet girl, but she certainly had a gift for winding people around her little finger.
“I couldn’t eat another thing,” she said. “Not even a tiny little chocolate chip. Maybe some other time.”
“Daedi, she could come back for supper, can’t she?”
Gideon dried a dish and put it in the cupboard, then closed the door and hung the dish towel up to dry. His eyes met hers. “Anna can come back for supper any time she wants.”
Something passed between them, something warm and wonderful and suddenly a little bit frightening. She hadn’t felt like this with anyone but Samuel. But what he asked—the step he wanted her to take—she wasn’t ready for that yet.
“I—thank you very much,” she said quickly. “I’ll have to let you know.”
She’d let him know?
Gideon reached for his jacket and handed Sarah Rose hers. “I’ll go hitch up the buggy. You ladies get your jackets on and join me when you’re ready.”
Sarah Rose giggled. “Daedi called me a lady.”
“He called me one, too,” Anna told her with a grin.
Gideon walked out to the barn and set about hitching up the buggies, thinking about what she’d said. He didn’t know what to think of her reaction, not having much experience with women. After all, he and Mary had fallen in love almost before they had left school, and they’d married when they were barely twenty. Now he was twenty-eight and looking at starting all over, and he didn’t know how to do that.
Not that there was a shortage of women. They approached him and struck up conversations at church services and Sarah Rose’s school activities and social events and shops. They brought food. He and Jacob had discussed how often unmarried young women and sometimes widows showed up with casseroles and cakes and pies and desserts and bread still warm from the oven.
Well, that had stopped some time ago at Jacob’s house. When he was a bachelor, his mother and sisters had worked out a schedule to keep him fed so that the single young women would stop coming. And then, Jacob had thoughtlessly let it slip to one of his sisters that really, cooking couldn’t be that hard. She’d handed him a saltshaker to season the foot he’d put into his mouth and told him he better learn because she and the women of the family weren’t feeding him anymore.
After they talked about their mutual experience with ladies bearing food, Jacob gave Gideon a couple of recipes. The macaroni and cheese tonight was one of them. He’d found Mary’s recipe box and worked on making some of his favorites from it as well.
Sarah Rose ran down the back stairs, followed by Anna. As usual, she hadn’t buttoned her jacket, and one side of her collar stood up and the other was tucked inside the jacket.
“Can I ride with Anna on the way to her house?”
“Long as you don’t ask to ride back with her.”
“What?” she stared at him, then she laughed. “Oh, you were being silly.”
He started to help her into the passenger side of the buggy, but she’d already climbed into it with the agility of a monkey.
Once again, he wondered if Mary would want him to work more on making sure Sarah Rose wa
sn’t a tomboy.
He followed Anna’s buggy and wondered if his daughter was talking Anna’s leg off.
The trip to Anna’s didn’t take that long, and soon they were saying good-bye to Anna and traveling back to their own house. Sarah Rose began to wind down by the time they pulled into the drive.
He sent her inside while he put the buggy and horse in the barn. After he gave the barn one last look, he picked up the lantern and headed out the door.
Outside, the night was crisp and cool. The wind blew a rag of a cloud away and stars began winking on.
When he stepped into the kitchen, he saw Sarah Rose standing before the freezer, staring longingly at the little plastic baggies of leftover ice-cream sandwiches she’d made for dessert after tonight’s supper.
She turned when she heard him enter. “Daedi—”
“One,” he said. “And you eat it quickly so you can study your spelling words before you go to bed.”
“I still get a bedtime story,” she said, sounding like she expected an argument.
“Of course. But a short one. It’s almost bedtime.”
He watched her compare several of the sandwiches before choosing one she evidently decided was the biggest. She reminded him of Mary so much at that moment with her determination to get what she wanted—he’d teased her once that she’d done that with him and she’d laughed and agreed. She had a quiet way of getting her way, but she always got it. Sarah Rose was smart like her mother had been about that.
There wasn’t much of himself he could find in his daughter unless you considered that she was a tomboy and wanted to do things most boys enjoyed.
He poured a cup of coffee and watched her unwrap the sandwich, then bite into it.
That memory of teasing Mary that she’d gone after him and not stopped until she’d gotten what she wanted. She’d laughed and agreed.
Maybe I need to do that with Anna, he thought. Maybe he needed to convince her that they should see if they were the pair God meant them to be. So what if he’d been pursued the first time. This was a different woman. That she was different than Mary was a good thing. It wouldn’t be fair to her to be thought of as a copy of Mary.
Heart in Hand: Stitches in Time Series #3 Page 8
