Melting Hearts

by Kathleen Fuller

  Her barb bounced off him. He’d experienced her sharp tongue before. And even though they both knew he hadn’t been talking about the bakery specifically, she obviously couldn’t resist getting in a dig.

  Mattie turned from him and rounded the counter toward a woman standing in front of a display of pies. “May I help you?” she asked, her tone shifting from the acidic one she’d used with him to one pleasant and helpful. Sweet. Nice, even. She definitely hadn’t exhibited anything close to sweet when she was in his company over the last months. Didn’t know she had it in her.

  Realizing there was no sense standing there among the flurry of activity, especially not with Mattie around, he decided to go back to the house and wait for Atlee. He glanced over his shoulder as he opened the front door. Mattie was talking to the same customer and pointing to a sign that said Buy three pies, get one free. As the woman nodded, Mattie lifted her head and looked at him. Her face pinched into a scowl. That was the Mattie he was used to.

  Irritated, he sneered back at her, and then he left.

  This is going to be a challenge. Not the addition. He’d been working in construction since he was fourteen, both residential and commercial. He could build an addition in his sleep. But dealing with Mattie was a different story. Hopefully, she wasn’t staying with Atlee and Carolyn too—although she more than likely was since she was their niece. Maybe he’d need to find another place to stay. But what would Atlee think if he did?

  Once at the house, he dropped his duffel bag on the ground, sat down on the cold front porch steps, and put his chin on the heels of his hands.

  Merry Christmas to me.

  2

  ALTHOUGH THE BAKERY CLOSED AT SIX, SEVERAL CUSTOMERS were still finishing up their purchases a few minutes after. Mattie told Carolyn to go home, that she would ring up the last sales and close up. Her aunt looked relieved. Mattie was still getting to know her since she and her uncle lived in Birch Creek, but she thought Carolyn looked especially tired this evening. Maybe the Christmas rush was really getting to her this year.

  When Carolyn came back from the kitchen, having donned her coat and placed a black bonnet over her kapp, she said, “Don’t work too late. Baking that pumpkin bread can wait until tomorrow morning.” Mattie nodded, and then Carolyn opened the front door, letting cold air into the warm bakery.

  When the last customer had left, Mattie locked both the front and back doors and then finished washing the rest of the dirty pans, bowls, and utensils. Then she went to the front and straightened the merchandise on the shelves. She neatened all the displays as much as possible and made a mental note to go back to Barton to buy some more ribbon and maybe some other decorative Christmas items from Noelle’s shop. While the bakery did look festive, she thought it could use a few more special touches.

  When the displays were to her satisfaction, she made one more check of the bakery. Then she put on her coat, locked the back door behind her, and walked home to the Shetlers’.

  When she opened the Shetlers’ front door, she inhaled the cozy scent of burning wood. She crossed the living room and held her hands in front of the woodstove. She’d forgotten her gloves this morning, and while the walk between the bakery and the house was short, the sun had set, dropping the temperature even further.

  Once her hands were sufficiently warmed, she started to remove her coat. The garment was halfway off when she heard someone coming downstairs. Turning to see who it was, she groaned and then faced the stove again.

  “Peter,” she muttered, unable to look at him again.

  “Mattie.” She heard him start toward the kitchen, but then he stopped. “Looks like we’ll be living in the same haus for a few weeks.”

  Might as well be an eternity. “I guess we are.” She heard him moving closer behind her, but she refused to turn around.

  “Since that’s the case,” he said, “I think we need to call a truce.”

  Now Mattie turned around. He was right, of course. Not that she wanted to admit it, but they couldn’t be at each other’s throats if they were both living here. “Fine. Truce.”

  He smirked. “Somehow I don’t think it will be that easy.”

  “I don’t care what you think.” She pressed her lips together, cringing. She had a bad habit of smarting off, a habit she was trying to control—even if someone like Peter deserved it. She drew in a breath. “I’m sure we can be civil to each other. I don’t want to make mei aenti and onkel feel uncomfortable.”

  “I don’t either. Yer onkel was nice enough to give me this job.” He stuck his hands into the pockets of his pants. “What happened with Lizzy was months ago. Let’s just let bygones be bygones, ya?”

  But Mattie couldn’t bring herself to agree. Peter wasn’t there when her friend Lizzy cried in her arms over his horrible treatment of her, finally confiding in Mattie after he broke up with her. “He’s cruel,” Lizzy had told her, her eyes red and puffy. “I’ve never met anyone so cruel in mei life. And to think I loved him!”

  The only right thing Peter did in that relationship was breaking up with her—although he’d broken Lizzy’s heart in the process.

  She turned from him and stared at the glowing fire.

  “I guess forgiveness isn’t in yer vocabulary,” Peter mumbled, and then she heard him leave the room.

  Guilt prodded her. She was supposed to forgive him. She knew that. But every time she’d tried to, Lizzy had told her another story about how horrible he’d been to her. Peter might seem to be a nice person on the outside, but now Mattie wasn’t fooled.

  It didn’t help that she’d always thought he was physically attractive, even before Lizzy and he started to date. Of course, it hadn’t been a surprise to her that Lizzy—with her flawless skin, sparkling blue eyes, golden-blond hair, and always knowing exactly the right things to say to boys—had snagged Peter before Mattie even had a chance. That was okay, though. Lizzy was her best friend. They’d been friends since they were toddlers because their mothers were so close. Sure, over the years Lizzy had hurt her feelings at times, but no one was perfect.

  Not even me.

  She sighed. Peter was right. She needed to forgive him, for good this time. She hung her coat on the rack near the front door and then went into the kitchen. She glanced at Peter, but then she quickly fell back into the habit of ignoring him. She would deal with forgiving him later.

  The delicious aroma of the chicken and noodles steaming on a platter in the center of the table made her stomach growl. She hadn’t had time for a snack that afternoon. Not that snacking at the bakery wasn’t tempting. The chewy date cookies had called her name, but she’d been too busy to try even one. “Supper smells wonderful, Carolyn,” she said as her aunt put a big bowl of honeyed carrots on the table.

  “It does, thanks to yer onkel.” She looked at her husband and smiled. “He made most of the meal.”

  “I have a gut teacher.”

  “Do you need help with anything?” Peter asked as her uncle poured iced tea into a glass.

  Mattie kept herself from frowning. This was what annoyed her about Peter. He could come across as kind and generous, but she knew deep down he was anything but.

  Forgiveness, remember? She set her bitterness aside and said, “I can help too.”

  Onkel Atlee shook his head as he finished filling the last glass. “We’re all set. All we need to do is pray.” He and Carolyn sat down at opposite ends of the round table. It was a bit small since only the two of them lived there, but it did seat four.

  Mattie sat down across from Peter and closed her eyes. Instead of praying for the food, she prayed for strength to get through the next few weeks.

  After the prayer, Mattie and Peter reached for the rolls at the same time. He got there first and held out the basket to her. “Roll?”

  She snatched one and set it on her plate.

  No one talked for most of the meal, other than both Peter and Mattie complimenting the cooks. Carolyn was unusually quiet, and she hadn’t even finis
hed her meal before she started to yawn.

  “Why don’t you geh to bed?” Onkel Atlee said. “We can take care of the kitchen.”

  “Nee.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m fine.”

  “You look exhausted. Please, geh get some sleep. You’ve been running yerself ragged these past couple of weeks.”

  After a pause, she nodded and pushed away from the table. “Okay. But I’ll be up bright and early to make breakfast.”

  She was looking at Mattie, and Mattie nodded, but she’d tell her uncle to make Carolyn sleep in. She’d get up and make the meal. She hoped her aunt wasn’t coming down with something. “Gute nacht,” she said as Carolyn left the room.

  Her uncle started after her, but then he turned back. “There’s cherry crumble for dessert. Somehow Carolyn had the energy to make it last night.”

  “You aren’t having a piece?” Peter asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m going to check on Carolyn.” Concern etched his features. “She’s been overly tired lately.”

  “I’ll clean the kitchen,” Mattie said.

  “And I’ll help,” Peter added.

  He gave them a small smile. “Danki. I gotta admit, it’s nice to have extra hands around here.” He stood. “See you both in the morning.”

  Mattie turned to Peter when her uncle was gone. “You don’t have to help me,” she said, keeping her tone as even as possible. She was tempted to add a sarcastic comment, but she held her tongue.

  “I know.” He calmly buttered a second roll. “Four hands are better than two, though.”

  She couldn’t keep her gaze from narrowing. “I’m not fooled, by the way.”

  “Fooled by what?” He took a bite of the roll, looking completely unfazed by her words.

  “This nice-guy act. I know it’s for the benefit of mei aenti and onkel.”

  He swallowed, set down the roll, and then leaned forward. “Have you ever thought that maybe it isn’t an act?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Lizzy says otherwise.”

  Peter scowled. “I don’t understand the hold that maedel has over you.” He scooted his chair back. “You want to clean the kitchen yerself? Be mei guest.” He grabbed his roll and strode into the living room.

  Mattie uncrossed her arms and looked at the table. There wasn’t that much to clean up, and she didn’t care that Peter left her to do it alone. But his comment about Lizzy bothered her. How dare he judge their friendship? Then again, he was probably still mad at her for the scolding she’d given him after he broke up with Lizzy, after Lizzy had told her he’d even cheated on her. When Mattie directly confronted him about his behavior, he’d made no denials. He’d refused to talk about his relationship with Lizzy at all. So no, she wasn’t buying this nice-guy image.

  She cleared the table, put up the leftover food, and washed the dishes. The cherry crumble would keep, and she didn’t have the appetite for it anyway. She covered the baking dish with foil and left it on the kitchen counter, and then she went into the living room and sat down on one end of the couch. The basket with her crochet supplies was on the floor, and she picked up the scarf she was working on. It was a gift for her father, and it wouldn’t take her long to finish.

  She used a big hook and thick yarn, and the work kept her mind off Peter for a little while. When she finished the scarf, though, he came back to her thoughts. She hadn’t seen him since he left the kitchen. Maybe he’d gone to bed too. She shrugged. She didn’t care where he was. She also had to admit she didn’t like the lump of bitterness sitting in her stomach like a cinder block. She couldn’t blame that all on Peter, though. She was the one holding on to anger with all her might.

  Mattie turned off the gas lamp, stirred the coals in the woodstove, and then went upstairs. She shivered as she entered her bedroom. The heat from the stove didn’t reach the upstairs rooms, and even though she was used to cold winter nights, she didn’t like them. As quickly as she could, she changed into her winter nightgown, took off her kapp, and braided her hair. Then she said her prayers and burrowed under the heavy quilts. It wasn’t long before she was warm, and normally she would drift off to sleep right away. Instead, she lay awake, annoyed. She couldn’t stop thinking about Peter.

  Maybe she should call Lizzy and tell her Peter was here. But what would be the point? Lizzy had dated other guys since Peter.

  She flopped over on her side, frowning. Meanwhile, Mattie had yet to go on even one date. What was wrong with her that no man in their community was interested in her? Could it be her freckles? She had tons of freckles, and she’d never liked them. She once tried to get rid of them by rubbing lemon slices over her cheeks, but that only made her eyes water.

  Also, her slim figure was almost boyish, and she’d been extremely awkward during her teenage years. Lizzy had been both lovely and popular. They didn’t have that much in common, especially once they were young adults. That’s why Mattie thought herself lucky that their friendship had lasted so long.

  But why didn’t she miss Lizzy as much as she’d expected to?

  After leaving Mattie in the kitchen, Peter blasted out the front door. Clearly Atlee was worried about his wife, enough that he had forgotten about the evening chores, so Peter went to the barn to feed the horse and four pigs. He made sure they had enough hay, and then he swept the barn floor. He also tried to put Mattie out of his mind.

  He had just put the broom away when Atlee walked into the barn.

  “Danki,” Atlee said, stopping in front of him. “I can’t believe I forgot about the animals.”

  “Nee problem.” And it wasn’t, because he’d had an excuse to stay away from Mattie. Besides, he wasn’t just going to do his job while he was here. He’d help out if he was needed in other ways. “How’s Carolyn?”

  “Sleeping.” Atlee frowned. “She’s exhausted, and she’s been working too hard.” He rubbed his chin through his salt-and-pepper beard. “But she says I’m overreacting. Maybe I am.”

  Peter nodded, but he understood why Atlee might jump to conclusions. Losing his first wife had been hard on him. “I’m sure she’ll be fine with a gut night’s sleep.”

  Atlee nodded, but he still looked worried. “Guess I’ll geh to bed now.”

  Peter started to leave the barn with Atlee, but then he stopped, picked up a curry comb, and began brushing the horse. He was still avoiding Mattie, which wasn’t exactly mature of him. They were both twenty-two and should be past these childish games, but Mattie had gotten under his skin. If she only knew the truth about Lizzy. But Peter wasn’t going to be the one to tell her. It probably wouldn’t make a difference anyway. Mattie Shetler had blinders on when it came to Lizzy Miller. She always had.

  More than an hour had passed before he finally ran out of things to do. He closed up the barn, and then he shoved his hands into his pants pockets and looked up at the night sky. It was cloudless, but the moon was bright. It was also bitterly cold. He’d been so irritated with Mattie that he’d left the house without a coat, wearing just a navy-blue pullover sweater and denim pants. The work in the barn had warmed him up enough, but now that he was outside, his breath was coming out in puffy clouds. Shivering, he hurried back to the house.

  He entered the back door and turned on the battery-operated lamp in the center of the kitchen table. The room was spotless, as he’d expected. Except for that bit of flour he’d seen on her dress at the bakery, Mattie was the tidiest woman he’d ever known. In school she kept her desk neat at all times, and her handwriting was perfect. She never had a hair out of place or a stain on her clothes. Since he was also neat, he kind of admired that quality in her. He just wasn’t as fastidious about it.

  Spying the cherry crumble on the counter, he decided to have some before he went to bed. He had just put a piece on a plate when he thought he heard someone behind him. He turned to see Mattie standing in the doorway, wearing a plain robe belted at her slender waist. Instead of a kapp, a light-green kerchief covered her hair—except for the long bra
id draped over one shoulder. He was about to say hi, but he didn’t bother. He wasn’t in the mood for another conversation that would head south faster than he could snuff out a candle. He put the foil back over the crumble, found a fork in a drawer, and then sat down at the table.

  Mattie didn’t move, and when he glanced at her, he saw indecision on her face. Then after her gaze landed on his crumble, she marched to the counter and got herself a piece. As she passed by him on her way out of the kitchen, he blurted, “There’s room enough at this table.”

  He groaned inwardly. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? He’d also wondered that earlier tonight, when he’d approached her while she was warming her hands. But something had made him try to make peace with her. It lasted about as long as he should have expected. He plunged his fork into the sweet crumble crust and focused on something pleasant—the delicious-looking dessert.

  Mattie paused, and then she surprised him by sitting down. Across from him, of course. She kept her head down as she took the edge of her fork and neatly cut off a corner of the crumble.

  In the dim light of the kitchen, he couldn’t see the auburn tones he knew were in her hair, but for some reason he kept looking for them.

  “Stop staring at me. It’s rude.”

  “I wasn’t staring.” He ducked his head, avoiding her brown eyes, and scooped up two cherries.

  He heard her set down her fork. “Why did you ask me to sit here?”

  He put down his fork, too, and looked up at her. “Why did you agree to?”

  “I don’t want to get crumbs in mei bed.”

  Peter couldn’t argue with that. He wouldn’t want crumbs in his bed either. “What are you doing up?”

  “Not that it’s any of yer business, but I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Why not?”

  Her nose scrunched, turning the individual freckles on it into one brown clump. “Like I said, none of yer business.” She took a large bite of the crumble.

  “Milk helps with insomnia.” When she didn’t answer him, he got up, went to the gas-powered refrigerator, and took out a quart of milk. He poured some milk into a glass and then set it in front of her. “Here.”