by Ruth Reid
Hannah was gone, and her art supplies too.
Lindie kicked back the blanket and bounded out of bed. Her heart thumped hard against her chest as she sped down the hall. Not finding the child in her bedroom, she hurried to the kitchen.
Hannah looked up from her bowl of cereal and smiled.
Lindie sighed with relief. She signed, asking where her father was, but Hannah shrugged. Not sure if she signed the question correctly, she asked if Josiah was in the barn.
The girl shrugged again, then set her spoon down and said with her hands that she hadn’t seen him all day.
Lindie looked out the window, but it was too dark to see if his buggy was parked under the lean-to. If he was working in the barn, his lantern would give off some light through the windows. The barn was dark. Simon wasn’t around either. Although Simon often preferred to eat something simple in the grossdaadi haus. It wasn’t like Josiah to not make supper. Especially since he was the one so adamant about her staying in bed.
Lindie tiptoed down the hallway, then eased Josiah’s bedroom door open and peeked inside. A steady purring snore came from the bed. Lindie smiled. Josiah had looked exhausted earlier. She was glad to know he was catching up on his sleep.
Returning to the kitchen, Lindie grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and joined Hannah at the table. The oatmeal looked stiff. Hannah must have eaten what was left over from breakfast. At least she had taken the initiative to fix her own meal. She hoped in time Hannah would demonstrate more independence.
Hannah tapped Lindie’s arm. “Did you sleep good?” she signed.
Lindie lowered her spoon. She wanted to give Hannah her full attention since this was her first time starting a conversation. She signed, “Yes,” then asked Hannah if she finished her drawing.
Without responding, Hannah pushed back her chair and left the room.
Lindie’s shoulders fell. Apparently her communication skills still weren’t adequate.
A few moments later Hannah reappeared, toting her artwork. She lifted the paper for Lindie to see.
“Wow.” She quickly held up three fingers to form Ws and opened her mouth wide to form the O.
Hannah smiled.
The drawing of the horse pulling a sleigh was the best work she’d ever seen. She had even drawn an Amish family riding in the sleigh and snow falling.
Hannah flipped the page. The next drawing was of a deer drinking water from a pond. Her picture contained rich details as though the deer had literally posed for the drawing. Deer especially seemed to have an innate ability to sense when a human was close and would run away. It made Hannah’s drawing even more compelling.
“I see them,” Hannah signed. “Sometimes I feed them. In the woods.”
“Feed them? Out of your hand?”
Hannah nodded.
“You are special.” Lindie smiled.
“That’s what God tells me too.” She pointed to her head. “I hear him. He calls my name.”
The hairs on Lindie’s arm stood on end. Though Hannah hadn’t always communicated with Lindie, and even Josiah at times, the girl was listening to God. Tears welled in Lindie’s eyes.
Hannah shook her head. “Don’t be sad.”
“These are tears of joy.”
Hannah’s face crinkled.
“Gladness.” That didn’t change the girl’s expression, so Lindie signed, “I’m happy,” while smiling so large her face hurt. “Did God tell you to lay your hand on the deer that was shot?”
Hannah nodded. “I prayed too.”
“And the doe was healed.” Lindie spoke slowly so Hannah could read her lips.
“God said it was.”
She had never seen such a miracle as when the deer rose, and to know that God told Hannah to lay hands on the animal warmed Lindie’s core.
After finishing her oatmeal, Lindie demonstrated how the shading changed depending on what angle she held the pencil. There really wasn’t any other technique she could teach Hannah, she had such natural ability. Even so, the child seemed receptive to the attention and that thrilled Lindie.
While interacting with Hannah, Lindie lost track of the time. The wall clock indicated it was past the child’s bedtime. She hated to stop their time together, but Hannah needed her sleep. Lindie also wanted a few minutes alone to sketch a doll pattern. With the material Margaret had sent, Lindie wanted to sew Hannah a doll for Christmas, which was only four days away.
After she tucked Hannah into bed, Lindie returned to the kitchen to start working on the pattern. Having made several in the past for her nieces, it didn’t take long to complete the sketch. She opened the drawer and removed the scissors. She never liked to cut paper and material using the same shears, but she would have to make do with the only pair she could find.
She had most of the pieces cut when a noise startled her. Adrenaline surged. She spun around, her scissors raised defensively.
Josiah grabbed her wrist.
She exhaled her pent-up breath and unclenched her hand. “I’m sorry. You frightened me.”
“I noticed.” He took the scissors from her hand and placed them on the table. “What are you doing up?”
She motioned to the material. “I’m cutting out a doll pattern I want to make for Hannah.”
He cocked his head to one side and grimaced. “Lindieee.”
“Please don’t be upset. It’s a Christmas gift and I don’t have much time to get it done. Besides, I got a long afternoon nap so I’m not tired yet.”
He groaned and squinted at the clock, then ran his fingers through his hair as he looked out the window.
“Is something wrong?”
He looked at the clock again, then at her. “It’s late.”
“Jah. Are you okay?” He was acting disoriented. He needed to eat.
“I feel fine.” He rubbed his jaw. “I guess I was really tired.”
“And probably hungry.” She remembered a time when one of the ministers in her district had acted similarly. The minister didn’t get better until after he’d eaten something. She heard later that his bewilderment was from his blood sugar dropping too low. “There are sandwiches left over from church.” She placed one on a plate and handed it to him.
“Denki.”
Lindie filled a glass with water and brought it to the table. “What about Simon? Should I take him something to eat?”
“I spoke with him before I laid down. He was going to warm up some soup at his place.” Josiah ate a few bites and washed it down with a long drink.
“Did he mention anything about me being pregnant?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t bring it up either.”
She picked up the scissors and resumed cutting the material. Josiah’s reply, though honest, hurt. Why did she think he would be up front with Simon? She tried to concentrate on the pattern but felt his stare. “What—why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re beautiful.”
She leaned back, startled by his words. He was disoriented.
Then, as if he realized what he had said, he shook his head. “Lindie, go to bed. Please.” He drained the water, set the glass on the table, and stood.
“I need a flat surface to make mei cuts.” She snipped around a corner, but she couldn’t concentrate on staying on the line. She hadn’t ever been called beautiful before. Even Moses had refrained from complimenting her physical features.
He appeared to acknowledge his unusual behavior and shook his head. Perhaps the late hour had something to do with his unbridled words. She wished there was truth in his statement, but most likely it was a slip of the tongue.
She shifted her thoughts to what she would use for the face and hands of this doll. The navy-blue material was fine for the dress and apron, but she needed something different for the flesh tones. Tomorrow she would look through her clothes. A dishtowel would work. The off-white muslin would—
Josiah came up beside her, his arm rubbing her shoulder as he reached for her hand doing the cuttin
g.
Their eyes locked and she released the scissors to him.
He dropped them on the table without breaking eye contact with her.
She swallowed hard.
Josiah cupped her face in his hands, lowered his lips to hers, and kissed her softly.
She trembled as his mouth moved over hers. Placing his hand on the center of her back, he drew her against him and trailed kisses along her cheek to her ear. His breath, warm against her skin, raised the hairs on her arms.
“Lindie, I never thought I could feel this way again,” he whispered, then moved down her neck with kisses.
She closed her eyes to block out the horrific memory of the Englischer and that awful night. The man’s putrid stench was embedded in her senses, forcing a mental replay of his raspy demands. Don’t fight me.
“Nay. Don’t touch me.” She pressed her hand against Josiah’s chest and shoved him hard. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I’m sorry,” Josiah said quickly. “I just assumed—”
“That wasn’t our arrangement,” she choked out and then fled the room.
Chapter Twenty-One
Josiah lifted his head, punched the feather pillow, and plopped back down. He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he envisioned Lindie wrapped in his arms. He should have told her his feelings had changed and not assumed hers had too.
That wasn’t our arrangement.
Her words had cut him to the core.
He entered this marriage expecting difficulties, and it had been difficult being married to someone he didn’t love. But it wasn’t nearly as hard as being married to someone who didn’t love him in return. He should have kept his distance. They were doing fine before he . . . fell in love.
So much for following Simon’s advice. She didn’t want to consummate the marriage. Far from it, she had a look of terror in her eyes when he touched her.
Oh, Lord, what a mess I’ve made of this. I need help. How am I going to keep the agreement we made?
He closed his eyes and tried to focus his thoughts on Caroline, but Lindie’s face appeared. Even when he closed his eyes tighter, her freckles and bright-blue eyes loomed before him. So did the lingering memory of her soft lips.
All this thinking and restlessness had caused him to sweat. He tossed the covers off. The woodstove didn’t usually pump out this much heat. Not in December. He sat up, removed his T-shirt, and hurled it to the floor.
The following day he woke before daybreak and went out to the shop. He used the jack plane to mill the rough bark and reduce the thickness. Later, to achieve a more accurate measurement, he would spend time flattening and truing the boards. Josiah worked until his arm muscles throbbed from the back-and-forth movement.
Simon limped into the workshop. “I didn’t realize you wanted to start so early.”
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Nay. I don’t sleep much anymore. I’ve been up reading the Bible.” He came closer and inspected the board. “Started with the cedar first? I thought you had orders for the elm.”
“I do.” He guided the planer over the wood, and wood shavings curled and fell on the floor. “This is a Christmas gift for Lindie. I should have started it earlier.”
“It has a nice grain.” Simon motioned to the grossdaadi haus. “I made some kaffi. Would you like a cup?”
Josiah nodded and set the tool on the bench. “Jakob should be here shortly. I thought we could work on rough cutting banisters out of the elm.” Josiah followed Simon into his house.
“What about your cedar project?”
“I don’t think that will take too long. Especially if these sleepless nights continue,” he muttered under his breath.
Simon poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Josiah as someone called out from the shop.
“Josiah? Are you out here?”
“There’s Jakob.” Josiah took his cup with him and stepped into the shop.
Not wanting to get on Josiah’s bad side, Lindie stayed on bed rest. But it didn’t ease the awkwardness between them. When he brought her meals into the room, he didn’t stay long. Sometimes he didn’t say anything other than what the meal was and that he hoped she liked it.
With so much time alone, she prayed for courage to tell him what had happened. How it wasn’t his fault she panicked when he kissed her. Moses recoiled as if she were poison when he heard the truth. He blamed her and she did nothing to try to change his mind. Nothing she said would have changed the outcome. Maybe Josiah would blame her as well. She couldn’t bear to live in the same house, under any arrangement, if he recoiled at the sight of her too.
Someone tapped on the door. “Kumm in,” she said.
Josiah cracked the door open but didn’t enter the room. “You didn’t forget about your doktah’s appointment, did you?”
“I guess I did. I’m sorry.” She had lost track of the days spent in bed. That meant there were only two days before Christmas. She missed the flurry of baking she and Margaret used to do. It didn’t feel like Christmas at all.
“We need to leave soon.” He closed the door. His footsteps tromped down the hall and shortly after, the bell jingled over the door.
She crawled out of bed and chose a dress. Black. Not unlike the bleakness she felt. She pinned the front closed, then touched her kapp. Her hair had come undone from lying in bed all day. By the time she unraveled and brushed out the tangles, twisted it back into a bun, and secured it under the kapp, it was time to leave.
Josiah had the buggy waiting outside the door. A cold gust of wind swirled around them. He took her elbow and guided her down the steps and over the path blanketed in wood shavings.
Hannah sat beside Lindie and they shared the quilt. Josiah refused, saying he was warm enough.
“I made arrangements with Rebecca Troyer to watch Hannah while we are in town,” he said, adding, “Simon and Jakob are busy and I didn’t want her to get in their way.” He turned the buggy onto the main road and they traveled the short distance in silence.
Josiah set the brake. “I’ll be just a minute.” He climbed out and waited for Hannah. She mitten-waved good-bye to Lindie, then hurried to the house.
Lindie readjusted the blanket to leave enough for Josiah should he change his mind. So far he’d kept his distance—both physically and emotionally. Why had he complicated things, crossing the boundaries—the boundaries he set?
Josiah pushed the blanket aside when he sat down on the bench. The silence made the trip into town seem longer than usual.
Doctor Ethridge was happy with her weight gain and that she hadn’t vomited since her last visit or experienced any more sharp pains.
“Does this mean I can increase mei activity?”
“I don’t see why not. I’m very pleased with your progress. As long as you don’t overdo it, I think it will be fine for you to resume your normal routine.”
“Will you tell Josiah?” Maybe he would feel as relieved as she was to hear the news from the doctor.
“Sure.” He picked up the phone and gave his receptionist instructions to send Josiah into his office.
Josiah entered the room and sat in the chair beside Lindie.
“The baby doesn’t appear to be in any distress,” Doctor Ethridge said. “The gestational measurements are still less than I’d like, but I’m very pleased with Lindie’s weight gain. According to Lindie, she hasn’t had any more pains, nor has she vomited in the last two weeks.” He smiled at Lindie, then turned his attention back to Josiah. “I told her it would be all right to resume normal activities provided Lindie comes into the office if she experiences more pain or begins vomiting again.”
“That’s gut news,” Josiah said to Lindie.
She smiled.
“Do either of you have any questions?”
They both answered no at the same time.
“I would like to see you in a month to make sure your weight gain is still on track.” Doctor Ethridge closed her chart and stood. “I
won’t keep you.” He walked to the door. “I’m sure you have last-minute things to do before the holidays.”
Lindie’s thoughts whirled with special dishes she wanted to prepare for Christmas and the house-to-house visitation the women had discussed last Sunday. Josiah hadn’t mentioned anything about it, but now that she was no longer on bed rest, he would surely approve of fellowshipping within the settlement.
Josiah touched her arm. “Why don’t you go up front and make your next appointment. I’ll meet you in the lobby in a minute or two.”
“Okay.” His sober expression was difficult to interpret. She hoped he wasn’t planning to convince the doctor to keep her on bed rest. She proceeded toward the corridor. It wasn’t right to eavesdrop, but surely God would forgive her if the conversation was about her.
“The tests came back inconclusive. They need to be repeated.” The doctor’s voice was muffled, yet discernable.
Lindie looked over her shoulder as the door shut behind them. What tests? She arranged for her next appointment with the receptionist, then sat on the cushioned chair against the wall and waited for Josiah.
A few minutes passed before he came to the lobby. “Everything all set?”
“Jah.” Lindie stood. “I made an afternoon appointment, is that all right?”
“That’s fine.” This time he seemed more eager to leave the office than she did. Once outside, he guided her by the elbow down the sidewalk, then helped her into the buggy.
Josiah took his spot on the bench. White clouds of air escaped from his mouth and he shivered.
She lifted the corner of the blanket. “I’ll share with you if you’re kalt.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine.” He clicked his tongue, signaling Molly, and the mare lurched forward.
They traveled out of town and over the first hill before Lindie broke the silence. “It snowed while we were at the doktah’s office. Are the roads slippery?”
“A little.”
Another long stretch of silence followed. Since her arrival, she hadn’t had much of a chance to develop any close friendships. Not like those she had in Ohio. The houses were too far apart to drop in on neighbors as she had done in Ohio. Besides, she hadn’t wanted to ask Josiah to take the buggy.
