The Christmas Quilt

by Patricia Davids

  “Ja,” Daniel replied. “He is in line waiting to pay. Before you go, I wanted to ask both of you to supper this coming Sunday. Unless you have other plans? My sister is coming and she can cook a fine meal.”

  “We do not have other plans,” Vera answered before Rebecca could come up with a workable excuse.

  Daniel was a good man and a friend, but Rebecca couldn’t bring herself to see him as anything else. If her aunt was right and he wished to court her, he was in for a letdown.

  “Excellent. What time shall I expect you?” His delight was clear.

  Rebecca waited impatiently for the two of them to work out the details. She wanted to find Booker and speak to him before he left Hope Springs for good.

  She wanted to thank him, yes, but there was another reason. One she didn’t understand. She felt compelled to speak with him again. It didn’t make any sense but she had learned to follow her instincts when her sight failed her.

  Vera and Daniel continued discussing his dinner invitation. Suddenly, Rebecca couldn’t wait any longer. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go.”

  She unfolded her cane and moved forward, swinging it side to side as she went. Vera caught up with her. “Rebecca, what is wrong with you? That was rude.”

  “I don’t want to miss speaking to Mr. Booker. Do you see him? Where is he?”

  “Straight ahead of you, but slow down before you trip.”

  The line Gideon stood in moved quickly toward a set of tables where he could collect his expensive new quilt. He hoped they’d take a personal check. The bidding had far exceeded the amount of cash in his pocket. If they wouldn’t take his check, he’d have to use his credit card and hope it didn’t put him over his limit. This venture was foolhardy and expensive, but he was glad he had come.

  When he reached the table, he took off his glasses and hung them on his shirt pocket. “Do you accept personal checks?”

  The man at the table looked up and Gideon’s heart dropped when he recognized his cousin, Adam Troyer, beneath the wide-brimmed straw hat. He was ten years older and sported the beard of a married man, but there was no mistaking him. Gideon steeled his heart against the humiliation to come and prayed he wouldn’t be recognized.

  Adam’s eyes grew round. “Gideon? Is that you?”

  So much for remaining incognito.

  Surging to his feet, Adam grabbed Gideon’s hand and began pumping it in a hearty shake. “I can’t believe my eyes. What’s it been? Seven, eight years?”

  “Ten,” Gideon croaked.

  “Too long. What’s the matter with your voice? You sound terrible.”

  “Laryngitis. It sounds worse than it is.”

  “What are you doing here?” Adam finally released Gideon’s hand.

  “Buying a quilt.”

  “Which one?”

  “The one made by Rebecca Beachy.” Gideon handed over the yellow card with his number on it.

  “So, you were the bidder! I didn’t recognize you from across the room. There is a lot of speculation going on about you. This is the most any quilt has brought in the history of Hope Springs.” Adam nodded toward the women folding and packing the quilts into boxes behind him. They were all glancing his way.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not have everyone know who I am. Have you forgotten? I’m under the ban.”

  Adam’s face grew pensive. “I had forgotten. Like you, I went out into the world for many years, but God brought me home. We would welcome you back to the church with great joy, Gideon.”

  “I’m not here to rejoin the faith. I’m only here to help Rebecca. She and I were…close once.”

  “I remember. We all thought you’d marry.”

  “So did I, but life doesn’t often turn out the way we plan.”

  “Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”

  Gideon gave his cousin a wry smile. “I should know that one.”

  “It’s from Proverbs.”

  “Guess you can tell I haven’t been reading my Bible.”

  Adam’s gaze softened. “It’s never too late, Gideon.”

  Pulling out his checkbook, Gideon ignored his cousin’s comment and wrote a check for the price of the quilt. “If Rebecca learns the money came from me, from an ex-Amish, she might not accept it. I don’t want to make trouble for her.”

  “I understand. After this meeting I will not know you, but it sure is goot to see you. Where are you staying?”

  “I’m not staying. I’m driving back to Rochester, New York, tonight.”

  “Rochester? Nee, you aren’t driving that way. The sheriff just told us the interstate has been closed south of Akron due to the ice storm.”

  “You’re joking.” This was a complication Gideon hadn’t foreseen. He should have paid more attention to the weather forecast before jumping in his car and driving three hundred and fifty miles.

  “It’s settled,” Adam declared. “You’re staying with us. My wife, Emma, and I run the Wadler Inn. You can’t miss it. It’s on Main Street at the edge of town. We’re normally booked solid during the auction, but we’ve had a couple of cancellations.”

  Gideon glanced around to make sure no one was listening. He leaned closer. “I’m under the ban, cousin. You cannot offer me a place to stay. Just speaking to me could cause trouble for you.”

  “You let me worry about that. The bishop here is a good man and just. Unlike your old bishop in Berlin, he is not eager to condemn a man for his sins. He truly believes in forgiveness. Besides, it is my duty to pray for you and to give aid to those in need. You look like you’re in need. Go to the inn when you leave here and tell the man at the front desk that I sent you. There is no need to mention that you are my wayward cousin.”

  “Thanks, Adam. I appreciate it. Is there anyone else who might recognize me?” Gideon slipped his sunglasses back on. He knew what Adam was risking by associating with him. He risked being shunned by members of his church. Gideon wouldn’t stay if it meant trouble for Adam.

  “Some of my family lives near here, but they did not come today. I’m not sure they would know you. You are much changed.”

  Relieved, Gideon signed his check and left it lying on the table knowing Adam should not accept anything from his hand.

  With a slight nod, Adam acknowledged Gideon’s thoughtfulness.

  Gideon caught sight of Rebecca and her aunt making their way through the crowd in his direction. Turning back to Adam, he said, “As soon as the roads are open I’m out of here.”

  Adam’s face grew serious. “Life doesn’t always work out as we plan.”

  “If Rebecca asks for my name, tell her I wish to remain anonymous.”

  “I can do that. It is good to see you, cousin. I have missed you. All your family has missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. How are…how are my parents?”

  “I had a letter from them just last week. They are well. Your brother Levi has a new son. That makes four boys for him now.”

  “Levi is married? Scrawny, shy Levi?” Gideon found it hard to believe his brother had four kids. He was only a year younger than Gideon.

  “Betty and Susie, too. They each have a girl and a boy.”

  He had eight nieces, nephews and in-laws he’d never met. How sad was that? “Grandchildren must make my mother happy.”

  “Not as happy as having you return.”

  Gideon swallowed back the lump that rose in his throat. “When you see them—”

  He paused. Coming here had been a mistake. It opened up far too many painful memories. “Tell them I’m doing well.”

  Taking his box with the quilt packed inside, Gideon turned and made his way toward the exit. Ten feet short of the opening he heard her call his name.

  “Booker, please wait!”

  Keep walking. Pretend you don’t hear her.

  His feet slowed. He could give good advice to himself but he apparently couldn’t follow it.

  What would it hurt to spe
ak to her one more time? After today he’d never see her again. Just this once more.

  Turning around, he waited until she reached him. Her aunt hung back, a faint look of displeasure on her face. It wasn’t seemly for Rebecca to seek out an Englisch fellow.

  She moved toward him until her cane touched his feet. When she opened her mouth to speak, he forestalled her. “I know what you’re going to say, Miss Beachy, but there is no need.”

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. He memorized the fine arch of her brows, the soft smile that curved her lips. She wore a pair of dark, wire-rimmed spectacles, but he knew her eyes were sky blue. If this was the last time he saw her face he wanted to remember it until the day he died.

  “There is always a need to show our gratitude for the kindness of others, Mr. Booker.”

  “Consider me thanked. I’ve got to get going.” Any second now he was going to blurt out his identity and undo all of the good he’d accomplished.

  He was keenly aware of Rebecca’s aunt standing a few paces back. A burly man came out of the crowd and stood with her, a look of displeasure formed on his face, too. Gideon turned his back to them. It was possible they’d met but he wasn’t sure.

  This was nuts. He wanted to see Rebecca again. He’d done that. He wanted to help her and he had.

  Mission accomplished. Walk away.

  No, what he really wanted was an answer to why she stopped loving him. But that was an answer he was never going to get.

  “Good luck with your surgery, Miss Beachy. I wish you every success.” He turned away and walked out into the stinging cold sleet.

  Chapter Three

  Rebecca held on to her aunt’s arm as they entered the lobby of the Wadler Inn. The instant she stepped inside the building she was surrounded by the smells of wood smoke, baking bread and roasting meat. She felt the heat and heard the crackling of burning logs in the inn’s massive fireplace to her right.

  The clatter of cutlery and plates being gathered together as tables were cleared came from her left. The Shoofly Pie Café was adjacent to the inn and accessible through a set of wide pocket doors. The murmur of voices and sounds told Rebecca the doors were open. The discordant noise increased the headache growing behind her eyes.

  As her aunt moved forward, Rebecca automatically counted her steps so she could navigate the room by herself in the future. Although she had stayed at the inn several times in the past, she needed to refresh the layout in her mind. She thought she knew the place well, but a chair carelessly moved by one of the guests or a new piece of furniture could present unseen obstacles for her.

  The thump of feet coming down the stairs and the whisper of a hand sliding over a banister told her the inn’s open staircase was just ahead. The tick-tock of a grandfather clock beside the stairway marked its location for Rebecca.

  “Velkumm.” Emma Troyer’s cheerful voice grew closer as she left the stairs and came toward them.

  “Hello, Emma.” Rebecca smiled in her direction.

  “I just finished readying your room. I’m so happy you decided to stay with us again.”

  “We’re glad to be here,” Vera replied.

  Staying at the inn had become a ritual for the two women following the quilt auctions. It was a time Vera truly enjoyed when the work of cooking, cleaning, sewing and running the farm was put on hold for a few days so she could relax and visit her many friends in town.

  Rebecca would rather be back in her aunt’s small house. The openness of the inn disoriented her, but she never said as much. Rebecca loved her aunt dearly. Vera deserved her little holiday each year. If Rebecca had insisted on staying home alone, her aunt would have cancelled her plans and come home, too.

  Emma said, “Rebecca, I couldn’t believe it when I heard how much your quilt went for.”

  “God was good to us,” Vera said quickly.

  Rebecca shook her head. “It was not worth that much money. The Englisch fellow who bought it did so out of pity. He saw a story about me on his television. That’s the only reason he came.”

  Vera patted Rebecca’s arm. “It matters not what his motivation was. His being there was God’s doing.”

  “How much more money will you need for your surgery?” Emma asked.

  “Another twenty thousand dollars,” Vera answered.

  “So much?” Emma’s voice echoed the doubt in Rebecca’s heart. It was unlikely they could raise enough money in time.

  She said, “Doctor White has told us the surgeon who is perfecting this operation is moving to Sweden to open a special clinic there after Christmas. If we can’t raise the rest of the money before then it will be too late.”

  Emma laid her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “Do not give up hope. We know not what God has planned for our lives.”

  Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “I must accept His will in this.”

  “Are you hungry?” Emma asked. “We’ve started serving supper in the café.”

  Vera said, “I could eat a horse.”

  “Goot. My mother has been waiting impatiently for you. I’ll tell her you’re here and we can catch up on all the news. Did you hear my Aenti Wilma over in Sugarcreek broke her hip last week?”

  Rebecca said, “You two go ahead. I think I would rather lie down for a while before I eat.”

  “Is your headache worse?” Vera asked.

  Rebecca appreciated her aunt’s concern. “Nee. I’m sure a few minutes of peace and quiet are all I need.”

  “Let me show you to your room,” Emma offered.

  “I can find my way,” Rebecca insisted. She didn’t want to be treated like an invalid.

  “Very well. I’ve put you in number seven, the same as last year.” Emma pressed an old-fashioned key into Rebecca’s hand.

  “Danki. Enjoy your visit.”

  She opened the white folding cane she carried and headed toward the ticking clock she knew sat beside the staircase. The clock began to strike the hour. It was five o’clock.

  When she located the first riser, she went up the steps slowly, holding tight to the banister. There were fifteen steps if she remembered correctly. When her searching toe found the top of the landing, she smiled. Fifteen it was.

  She walked down the hallway, letting her cane sweep from side to side. The rooms were numbered with evens on the left and odds on the right. It took only a few moments to locate her door.

  She fumbled with the key for a second and lost her grip on it. It fell, struck her toe and bounced away. The hallway was carpeted. She couldn’t tell from the sound where the key landed.

  Annoyed, Rebecca dropped to her knees and began searching with her hands, letting her fingers glide over the thick pile. The carpeting was a concession to the English guests that stayed at the inn. Amish homes held no such fanciness. A plain plank floor or simple linoleum was all anyone needed.

  The sound of a door opening across the hall sent a rush of embarrassed heat to her cheeks. A second later the door closed.

  She knew who it was. She recognized the spicy scent of his aftershave. Her heartbeat skittered and took off like a nervous colt at a wild gallop.

  The silence stretched on until she thought she must have been mistaken. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. She cocked her head to the side. “Is someone there?”

  “Can I help?” His raspy voice was a mere whisper.

  It was Booker. God had given her another chance to spend time with him. “You have already helped a great deal. The price you paid for my quilt was outrageous.”

  “Some works of art are priceless, but what are you doing on the floor?”

  “I dropped my room key.”

  “Ah. I see it.” A second later he grasped her hand and pressed the cool metal key into her palm, then gently closed her fingers over it.

  Waves of awareness raced up her arm and sent shivers dancing across her nerve endings. She didn’t trust her voice to speak as he cupped her elbows and drew her to her feet. The warmth from his hands spread
through her body, making it difficult to breathe.

  She’d known this dizzying sensation only once before. The first and only time Gideon Troyer had kissed her. Would this man’s kiss light up her soul the way Gideon’s had?

  Shame rushed in on the heels of her disgraceful thought. What was the matter with her? This man was Englisch. He was forbidden, and she was foolish to place herself in such a situation.

  She was inches away from him. Gideon’s pulse pounded in his ears like a drum as he studied Rebecca’s face, her lips, the curve of her cheek. Behind her tinted glasses he saw the way her full lashes lay dark and smoky against her fair skin. The long ribbons of her white kapp drew his attention to the faint pulse beating at the side of her neck just where he wanted to press a kiss.

  She was everything he remembered and so much more. The girl he once loved had matured into a beautiful woman. He longed to pull her into his arms and kiss her. To see if those lush lips tasted as sweet as they did in his memory.

  His grip tightened. Suddenly, she grew tense in his grasp and tried to pull away.

  He was frightening her. This wasn’t a romantic interlude from their past for her. To her he was a stranger. He released her, took a step back and tried to put her at ease. “Would you like me to open the door for you?”

  “No. I can manage.” She retreated until her back was against the wood.

  She didn’t look frightened, only flustered. A pretty blush added color to her cheeks. Adam must have known she was staying at the inn. It would have helped if his cousin had given him a heads-up.

  Gideon said, “It was nice talking to you. Perhaps we’ll see each other later since the ice is going to keep me here for a day. Wait, should I use the word see, or is that being insensitive?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Her flustered look changed to confusion.

  “I don’t know how to address a blind person. You’re the first one I’ve met. Can you give me a few pointers so I don’t stick my foot in my mouth?”

  Her charming smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “There isn’t a special way to address us, and you don’t have to be concerned about using the word see. I use it all the time.”