by Erica Vetsch
“Me, either.” Liesl giggled and scrunched her shoulders. Rolf circled, barking and leaping, eager to join in.
“You can’t change your mind now.” Oscar gently tossed his snow at his daughter, who dodged it easily. “There’s a price to be paid.”
While he was distracted with Liesl, Kate packed another snowball, this one sailing forth and hitting him in the back. He whirled.
“So, you’re a baseball player in disguise, are you?” He scooped up a huge armful of snow and shoveled it her way, sending a cascade of flakes showering over her, gentle but cold.
“Brrr.” She brushed the snow off her face, laughing.
“I thought a Minnesota girl like you didn’t get cold.” He stepped close and took the end of his muffler and wiped at the snow still clinging to her hair and cheeks. His breath plumed in a cloud, and she smelled the scent of sawdust and pine.
This close, she could see greenish flecks in his brown eyes. His mouth curved into a smile, and his beard looked so soft she wanted to touch it to confirm her suspicions. She didn’t feel the cold at all. In fact, she was tingling and warm, her blood zipping along quickly.
At that moment, a barking something hit the back of her legs and she cannoned into Oscar, tumbling to her knees in the snow, hands splayed to catch herself. She landed hard, jarring everything, and quickly rolled onto her side, stunned.
Oscar had staggered back with a shout, then yelled, “Rolf, get out of here.” He was on his knees beside her, his face a mask of worry. “Kate, are you all right?”
She took stock of herself, feeling the cold seeping through her cloak. Blinking, she studied the treetops and the bright, pale sky overhead, then took a deep breath, shaking a bit from the surprise of it all. Rolf’s big, furry face blotted out everything, his tongue lolling and swiping at her cheek.
“Get back.” Oscar pushed the dog away.
“Miss Kate?” Liesl squatted beside her. “Are you hurted?”
“I’m fine, I think. Help me sit up.” She tried to brush the hair out of her eyes and only succeeded in dumping snow from her mittens onto her face.
“No, lie there for a minute.” Oscar pushed the dog away again. “That was quite a tumble. When you’re ready, I’ll carry you back to the wagon and get you home.”
She was a bit rattled, but nothing like it appeared he was. His hand shook as he rubbed it down his pale face.
“I’m not hurt. I can get up.” She propped herself up on her elbows, but she would need help to get any farther, half-buried in the snow as she was and on a slight slope.
“You’ll do no such thing. Are you sure you’re not injured?” He reached out as if he wanted to touch her belly, but he pulled his hand back. “Liesl, go get into the wagon and stir up the straw nice and fluffy. Push aside the pine branches so there’s a place for her. I’m going to bring Miss Kate and lay her there.”
“Really, Oscar, I don’t need to lie down in the back of the wagon. I’m perfectly capable of walking there and sitting on the seat.”
She might as well have left the words unsaid for all he listened. “Does anything hurt?”
“No, though I imagine I might have tender spots tomorrow, but this Minnesota girl is getting cold lying on the snow.” And she felt awkward and huge.
“If you’re sure, then put your arms around my neck. I’m going to lift you, but if anything hurts, you must tell me right away.” He leaned close, eyes tense with worry, hands gentle.
She did as he said, torn between gratitude for his solicitous care and frustration that she needed it. He tucked his hand beneath her knees and under her back and picked her up, steadying himself in the snow, peering into her face for the first sign that she was in pain.
With careful strides, he brought her to the wagon and laid her on the straw in the back as if she was made of spun glass. Liesl had piled up the straw as best she could and stood in the box, mittens clasped tight together, her face pinched and her mouth wavering.
“Sweetling, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Come, sit by me and we’ll keep each other warm.” Kate patted the straw. “Doesn’t it smell nice, all these pine branches? Grossmutter is going to be so pleased.”
Oscar lost no time getting the horses started, but he didn’t rush them, keeping them to a brisk walk so as not to rattle the wagon too much. Embarrassment at her situation flitted across Kate’s skin. How ridiculous she must look, taking a tumble into the snow, then being conveyed home like a trussed-up turkey.
When they reached the farmhouse, Oscar carried her up the steps, and Liesl went ahead to open the door.
“Inge? Can you come with us? Kate took a tumble.” He didn’t stop in the kitchen but marched right up the stairs to her room.
“Really, Oscar, put me down.”
“You’re going to bed, and you’re going to let Inge take a look at you. I’ll be back in a bit with the doctor.”
He set her on the bed, and she swung her feet over the edge to stand. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t need a doctor. There’s nothing wrong with me. Yes, I had a little fall, but it was into a pile of soft snow. I was more surprised than anything, but sending for the doctor is—”
His hands were firm on her shoulders. “Lie down.”
“Grossmutter, tell him.” Kate appealed to Inge. “There’s too much to do with the Advent celebration here tonight for me to lollygag in bed.”
The elderly woman looked at Oscar’s uncompromising face, his crossed arms and his strong stance, and shook her head. “Schätzchen, perhaps it would be wise to rest for a while.”
Liesl clambered up on the bed beside Kate, kneeling on the quilt. “You should do what Daddy and Grossmutter say, Miss Kate.”
Feeling she had no choice in the face of so much opposition, Kate relaxed against the pillows. “Fine, I’ll rest here, but I don’t need a doctor.”
“You’re having one, and that’s that. Inge, please, get her into some nightclothes and under the covers, and check her out. I’ll be back with Doc Horlock as soon as I can.” He strode out of the room and down the stairs. The kitchen door closed briskly, and the clop of horses’ hooves on the snow-packed drive faded.
* * *
What had he been thinking, taking a pregnant woman out in the snow and cold, just to cut some pine branches? And why had he let her out of the wagon? And what had come over him to toss snow all over her, getting Rolf excited and precipitating the collision?
Oscar slapped the lines on the team’s rumps, urging them into a trot. With the snowy roads it would take him better than an hour to get to Mantorville.
“Lord, please let Horlock be in his office and not out making house calls somewhere.”
The sled skidded as he made the turn onto the main road, but he didn’t slacken the pace...and he didn’t stop praying.
The Amakers were under his roof, under his protection, and it was his job to see that they were well cared for and safe. And what had he done? Let his head be turned by a pretty woman who made him forget all his self-imposed and hard-learned lessons. He’d given in to those lovely eyes asking him to let her go with him to the pine grove.
And now she might have to pay dearly for his mistake.
Chapter Twelve
Kate plucked at the blanket stitch surrounding the Dresden plate pattern on the quilt. It seemed strange to be in her nightgown in the middle of the day, especially when she wasn’t ill. Inge bustled about the room, pulling another blanket from the chest and spreading it over Kate’s feet.
“You are sure you are fine?”
“Yes. I was more surprised than anything. You’re all overreacting.” She pressed her head back into the pillows and closed her eyes. She was tired, but it was the same old weariness she felt every day.
Inge sat on the side of the bed, taking Kate’s limp hand in hers. “Child, do you
know how precious you are to us? If something happened to you or the baby, I don’t know what we would do.” Her grasp, tight but somehow soft, too, pressed into Kate’s fingers. Kate opened her eyes, feeling chastened for her churlishness.
“I love you, too, Grossmutter, but nothing is going to happen to me. I wish this baby would just go ahead and show up so everyone could stop worrying about that and focus on what we’re going to do in a few weeks.”
Martin tapped on the doorframe. He held the towel-wrapped handle of the warming pan. “The kettle is boiling.”
Inge went past him into the hall. “I will bring some tea.”
“There isn’t anything I can do,” Kate asked, “to persuade you to let me get up and on with the preparations for the party?”
Shaking his head, Martin slid the bed warming pan under the edge of the quilt. Kate turned half on her side, drawing her knees up as far as she could as he rubbed the warming pan over the sheets. “It is no light matter for you to fall these days. And Oscar was clear in his instructions to keep you in that bed. You gave him quite a fright.”
“I’m sorry to cause you all so much worry.” She moved her feet down, savoring the warmth from the heated sheets as he withdrew the brass warming pan. The feather mattress was nice, and the pillow so comfortable. She’d just rest for a while. Her eyelids began to droop, and she slipped over the edge into sleep.
* * *
“Mrs. Amaker.” Something pressed on her shoulder, giving it a small shake.
Kate didn’t want to open her eyes. In fact, she wasn’t sure she could, her lids were so heavy, her mind so muzzy from slumber. She didn’t recognize the voice, anyway. Perhaps she was still dreaming.
“Kate.”
She knew that voice was Oscar’s and it sounded concerned. In a moment, when she was more awake, she would see what he needed.
“Kate, wake up. Please. Dr. Horlock is here.”
Managing to crack open one eyelid, she tried to focus. A yawn welled up and threatened to split her jaw. She barely got her hand up to cover her gaping mouth. “Sorry.” She blinked, struggling up out of somnolence.
“Is there something wrong with her? Why isn’t she alert?” Oscar paced at the foot of the bed.
Dr. Horlock set his bag on the quilt and smiled. “I think it’s because she’s sleepy. So would you be if you rarely found a comfortable way to sleep, or if you had a person living inside you who was seemingly trying to kick his way out the moment you finally snatched some rest. At least, that’s what my wife claims. She’s due in three more months.” He motioned for Oscar to go out into the hall and turned back to Kate, who rubbed her eyes and pushed her hair back from her face.
“Now, young lady, Oscar tells me you were plowed over by that shaggy beast of his.” He took her wrist in his fingers, finding her pulse and comparing it to his pocket watch. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“It wasn’t much of anything, really. The dog bumped me in the back of the legs, and I went down face forward into the snow. I caught myself on my hands and knees, and I sort of fell over onto my side so I wouldn’t land on my middle.”
The doctor nodded, pursing his lips, keeping his eyes on the watch.
“So you got shaken up a bit.”
She nodded, and he glanced up, letting her wrist drop. “Yes. A bit. I was more surprised than anything.”
“I’d like to listen to the baby. Have you felt him move since the fall?”
Kate paused. Had she? She’d become so used to the baby rolling and kicking and tumbling that unless he delivered a hard smack to the underside of her ribs, she didn’t take much notice. A frisson of worry flicked across her chest.
“I don’t know.”
Dr. Horlock drew his stethoscope from his bag and gently turned back the quilt. Placing the small bell end against her abdomen and the tong ends into his ears, he closed his eyes. Slowly he moved the bell from one place to another, listening, his face calm and untroubled.
Finally, when Kate was ready to grab his lapels and beg him to get on with things, he opened his eyes. “I think he’s sleeping. But I can hear his heart going nice and strong. I imagine he’ll be waking up and squirming around soon enough.” He asked a few more personal questions about her condition, and then patted her shoulder.
“I’m going to recommend you stay in that bed until at least tomorrow, and that you take it easy for the next little while.”
The rest of the day? Kate shook her head. The nap was nice, but she had things to do. “We’re having company this evening. It’s our turn to host the Advent party. I need to help Inge get ready.”
“No, you don’t. Inge and Martin and little Liesl have things well in hand. Anyway, if I let you out of that bed too soon, Oscar might have me tarred and feathered.” He coiled his stethoscope. “I think you’ll be just fine, but a little extra rest for a woman so close to her confinement is never a bad thing.”
“I wish you’d talk to Oscar. He refuses to let me do much of anything now, but if you tell him I have to stay in bed until tomorrow, he’ll probably insist I not get up at all until the baby’s born.”
Dr. Horlock chuckled as he went to the washstand and began to scrub his hands. “Expectant fathers can be like that. It seems like the bigger and tougher they are, the more they worry and fret.”
Heat charged into Kate’s cheeks. “Oscar isn’t my husband.”
The doctor stopped, his hands dripping water onto the hardwood floor. “Oh, that’s right. I’m so sorry. I forgot.” He reached for the towel on the back of the washstand. “It just seemed so familiar to me, the wife calm and steady and the husband pacing a groove into the floor. I’ll have a word with him before I leave.”
“Inge won’t let you out of the house without some coffee and a pastry or two.” Kate tried to cover her embarrassment with hospitality.
“I’m counting on that.” He snapped the case shut. “Send for me if anything troubles you.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He opened the door, and Oscar brushed past him into the room as if he’d been hovering by the door. “What’s the verdict?”
“She’s fine, but I want her to rest. In bed until tomorrow, then in a nice comfy chair or settee for a good part of each day.” Dr. Horlock spoke as he went down the stairs, his voice becoming fainter.
Oscar stood at the foot of the bed, looking down on her, and she smoothed her hair again. “Oh, mercy, I didn’t even take my hair down before I fell asleep. I must look like a back-brushed cat.” She pulled the pins out, letting her messy hair fall over her shoulders. It would be a rat’s nest if she didn’t braid it.
Oscar’s hands tightened on the footboard. “You look fine. Rest like the doctor says, and I’ll be up to check on you later. And don’t worry. I’ll head into town and tell Mrs. Hale and Mrs. Tipford we’re not hosting tonight.”
Her hands stilled in her hair. “No, please. Inge and Liesl would be so sad. They’ve been planning this for weeks. I promise to stay up here, but please, let them have their party.”
He appeared to be considering it, but he wasn’t looking at her. He kept his gaze on the flowered wallpaper over her head.
“Ask Dr. Horlock if it’s all right.” She gripped the edge of the blanket. It meant so much to her to be able to give Inge at least a little joy this Christmas. She didn’t want to be the cause of her sweet Grossmutter missing out on her celebration. And Liesl was practically bursting from her skin anticipating the arrival of guests. “I don’t want anyone to be disappointed.”
“You promise you’ll stay in bed?”
“Yes.” Though she would be the one disappointed to miss the guests and the fun. She had been looking forward to tonight, too. Not just the company, but seeing the joy on Liesl’s face, the happiness shining from Inge’s eyes.
He sighed, and his li
ps pressed together, as if he had come to a decision.
“Fine. I’m going to go talk to Dr. Horlock, and you’re going to go to sleep.” He scrubbed the back of his neck with his palm. “You scared about ten years off my life today.”
“I’m sorry. I will be more careful. The doctor says I’m fine, though. The baby is fine, too. Dr. Horlock said he could hear the baby’s heartbeat, and he’s sleeping right now—most of the time he’s moving around a lot, so that’s good.” She rubbed her hand against her side where even now an elbow or knee thumped. “Ah, he’s awake.” She tried a small smile, but Oscar wasn’t in a smiling mood yet.
“I’ll go see the doc. You rest.”
Kate napped off and on all afternoon, interrupted periodically by an excited Liesl climbing the stairs to tell her about the latest decoration or treat preparation.
“Miss Kate, I made a paper chain, and Grossvater made a row of paper stars. He folded the paper, and cut and cut and cut, and then, when he opened the paper, it was stars, holding hands.” She clasped her own hands under her chin, marveling. “And we hung the tree branches we got today in the window.”
Inge entered the room with a bowl of popped corn and the sewing kit. “I thought you two could string the popcorn up here together. Something nice and quiet. I hate that you are being left out of the fun.”
So Liesl climbed up beside Kate, and Inge put the bowl of popcorn into her lap. Kate took the sewing box and threaded a needle with a length of white cotton. “You can pick out just the right pieces for me, and I’ll poke them onto the thread.”
When they had a string long enough, Kate coiled it into the bowl. “There, you can take that downstairs. It will look lovely.”
“Miss Kate,” Liesl said, sliding off the bed and reaching back for the bowl. “What do you want for Christmas?”
Pausing from replacing her sewing needle in its case, Kate looked up. “Me?” She’d been too busy to think about what she might want for Christmas. If she had her heart’s desire, it would be to stay here in Minnesota, to be able to keep her farm. “I think what I would love best for Christmas is to see everyone in this house happy. For us to make some lovely memories to carry with us forever.” She wound her thread and tucked it into the sewing basket. “What about you? Have you decided on just what you would like?” If she was still set on getting a baby, would the dollhouse Oscar was building be a disappointment? Or the apron Inge had sewn? Or the pink dress Kate had been working on in secret?
