Читать книгу Amish Christmas Blessings: The Midwife's Christmas Surprise / A Christmas to Remember - Marta Perry, Jo Ann Brown - Страница 14

Chapter Four

Anna sliced through the dough on the cutting board, turning out the homemade noodle squares that Elizabeth would drop into her chicken potpie. They’d been able to come home early today, with few people venturing out into the snow.

Trying to keep her mind on Elizabeth’s voice wasn’t easy when her thoughts were completely absorbed by those moments with Ben out by the paddock the previous day. His laughing face as he’d spun her around had even intruded into her dreams. There, she’d been spinning faster and faster until she flew against him and his arms closed around her.

She had to stop this, now. Benjamin had been so frightened at the thought of marrying her that he’d left his whole world behind. It was hardly likely his feelings had changed now.

“I said, it’s a gut thing no one is due today or tomorrow,” Elizabeth said...or rather, repeated, since it was apparent that Anna hadn’t heard her before.

Focus, Anna ordered herself. “That’s certain sure. We don’t need any women in labor bouncing around trying to get here through the snow.”

Once the snow had decided to start, it hadn’t let up, and there was four inches at least on the ground. They’d have a quiet time of it until the roads were clear, and it always took some time for the township plows to arrive.

Anna rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand, trying not to touch anything with her floury fingers. Unless she wanted to go around in a constant state of confusion, she’d have to find a way to show Ben that she didn’t harbor any lingering feelings for him. Then they could be comfortable together, couldn’t they?

“Komm, Anna, tell me what has your forehead so tight? That’s the third time you’ve rubbed it in the past half hour.” Elizabeth stirred down the chicken broth that had come to a boil. “I know when you’re worried.”

But she’d never guess the cause of Anna’s worry, and Anna didn’t dare tell her. “Ach, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about Dora Beachy. I’m concerned that boppli might be arriving sooner than anyone expects.”

“Ya?” Elizabeth turned to her instantly. “Did you say anything to her?”

“I didn’t like to, since she’s really your patient. I did remind them that babies can arrive two weeks early or two weeks late and still be normal.”

Elizabeth nodded approval. “That was the smart thing to say. Of course, a first baby is more likely to be late than early.”

“I know.” But still, she was troubled. What if they didn’t send for help in time?

“Tell you what,” Elizabeth said, seeming to read her thoughts. “I’ll stop over next week and check on Dora. That will make everyone feel better, ain’t so?”

Anna let out a breath of relief. “I’d be so glad. Maybe I’m...”

Before she could finish the thought, they were interrupted by the soft sound of hooves on snow and the jingle of harness bells. Together they rushed to the back porch to find Josh and Benjamin grinning at them from the high seat of the sleigh. Ben held the lines, while Josh jiggled a strap of tiny bells.

“So that’s what you two boys have been up to all afternoon.” Elizabeth smiled fondly at her sons. “I should have known.”

“Get your coats on, you two. We’re going to take you for a ride.” Josh jumped down to hustle them along. “Hurry up. You first, Mamm.”

“Ach, I’m too old for such foolishness,” Elizabeth protested, but halfheartedly.

“Never,” Anna exclaimed, rushing to retrieve their coats and mittens.

Since the sleigh was a two-seater, Josh took his mother up beside him to the accompaniment of a string of warnings from his daad, who came out of the barn to join the fun. They went sliding off down the snow-covered lane, the snow muffling the sound of the horse’s hooves.

“Don’t worry, Daad.” Ben stamped snow from his feet. “He’ll be careful with Mamm.”

“When you boys start playing around with the sleigh, you forget all about being careful,” Asa said, but he was smiling as he watched. “Mind you don’t go speeding when you take Anna.”

It hadn’t occurred to Anna that logically Ben would take her for a ride since Josh had done the first trip. She was still trying to find a way to get out of it when the sleigh came sweeping back, Elizabeth laughing like a girl. Before Anna knew what was happening, she’d been bundled up onto the seat beside Ben.

He shot her a mischievous grin. “We’ll show them how it’s done, ain’t so?”

“You heard your daad,” she began, then gave it up as Ben guided the sleigh in a broad circle and she had to grasp the side rail to keep from sliding right off the seat.

Ben sent the gelding off toward the woods at a brisk pace, and she held tightly.

“We’re not racing, are we?” She tried to sound stern, but the question came out on a giggle. She couldn’t help it—it was so exhilarating to fly noiselessly over the snow, the breeze sending flakes to dust her coat and melt against her skin.

“Fun, ain’t so?” Ben smiled at her again, and her heart seemed to flip in her chest.

“You might say you did this for Joshua’s sake, but we all know better. You wanted to play in the snow as much as he did.”

“You’re just the same. Remember how excited you got yesterday at the first flakes?” His voice was low and teasing, and Anna had to struggle not to meet his eyes.

“I confess. We’re all kids about something, ain’t so?”

Ben nodded, but for some reason the words seemed to set up a more serious line of thought for him. They’d nearly reached the woods, where the farm lane ended, and he drew the buggy to a stop.

With the snow muffling every sound, Anna felt as if they were alone in the world. She had to say something.

“The...the hemlocks are beautiful in the snow. Look how it’s bending the branches down. It’s as if they’re...”

“Anna.” His voice was low, but it halted her foolish chatter in an instant. “There’s something I must say to you. I’ve owed you an apology for three years, and I haven’t been able to find the words to tell you how sorry I am.”

“Don’t, Ben. Don’t.” She put out her hand to stop him and then realized it was much safer not to touch him. But she saw, quite suddenly, what she must say to ease the tension between them.

“It worked out for the best, ain’t so? I don’t mean you going away, but the fact that we didn’t get together.” Anna took a breath of cold air and forced herself to go on. “Moonlight and kisses don’t make a solid basis for marriage. We’re such completely different people now.”

Her throat was getting so tight that she didn’t think she could say anything more, but maybe that was enough. She risked a glance at Ben’s face, but his somber expression didn’t tell her anything.

Finally he nodded. “If you feel you can forgive me, that’s all that counts. I hope we can be friends again.”

Anna forced herself to smile. “Friends.” That was all she could manage, but it seemed to be enough.

Ben clucked to the horse and they turned back toward the farmhouse.

* * *

Ben did his best not to fidget as the three-hour Sunday morning service drew near the end. He’d been trying to efface himself, in the hope he could fade into the mass of black-coated men. What a wimp he’d turned into while he was away—after all, he’d grown up sitting on the backless benches for worship, and he didn’t even remember thinking it was that hard.

Hard was definitely the word for this bench. He shifted his weight slightly and earned a frown from his eldest brother, Daniel. Dan had always felt responsible for the younger ones, and that didn’t seem to have changed. His greeting had been restrained, and he’d glanced at Daad as if taking his cue from him. Joseph, so close in age to Daniel that they might as well have been twins, had followed his lead, but as they’d lined up to enter the basement when worship was being held, Joe had given him a quick smile and a wink that warmed his heart.

You didn’t expect this to be easy, he reminded himself. It seemed he was saying that a lot lately.

The final prayer, the final hymn, and the long service was over. Bishop John King, passing close as he moved through the congregation, inclined his head gravely. Ben nodded back, guessing what the bishop was thinking—that if Ben intended to stay, he’d have to make his confession before the church. It was an intimidating thought, but the forgiveness granted to the sinner afterward was sincere and complete. The wrong was wiped out as if it had never been.

Daad put a hand on his shoulder. “Not until you’re ready,” he said softly. “Meantime, help the boys set up the tables for lunch, ja?”

Ben’s throat tightened. Daad, for all his strictness with his boys, had always seemed to understand. If he ever had a family, would he have that gift? If.

“Here, Ben, give us a hand.” Joe and Dan were making short work of converting the benches to the tables that would seat them for the after-church meal. “Or have you forgot how?”

Ben grinned at the familiar joshing and grabbed the end of the table Josh was struggling with. “Josh and I will get more done than you two. Come on, Josh.” Together they raised the wooden planks easily, fitting them into the brackets that turned them into tables. Typical Amish ingenuity, he thought. The benches and tables had to be hauled from one home to the next for services, so why not make the best use of them?

Already some of the women were carrying bowls and platters down the stairs from the Fisher family’s kitchen. Each family took a turn to host worship, but it only made sense to do winter worship at a home that had a warm, dry basement instead of a barn.

They were finishing the last table when Ben spotted Anna coming down, her arms around a huge coffee urn. Anna had made it easy for him to forgive himself for the hurt he’d offered her. At least he didn’t have to worry about that. So why didn’t her rational acceptance make him feel more content?

“Let me take that.” He discovered he’d moved to help Anna before he’d consciously decided on it. He grabbed the urn. “It’s heavy.”

For an instant she resisted, but then she let go and smiled. “Over here on the end of the table,” she said, gesturing to the long table that was already becoming covered with the fixings of the after-church lunch.

He set it down in the spot she indicated. “I see...” Ben lost his train of thought when he heard his mother’s name, coming from a small knot of women a few yards away.

“...saying that it’s not fair for Elizabeth Miller to just stop doing her home visits. She’s our midwife, and she shouldn’t be pushing us off on someone second-best, like Anna Zook.”

Ben recognized Etta Beachy’s strident voice even though her back was to them. Obviously some things didn’t change. Etta was known as the biggest blabbermaul in the church district.

He didn’t realize he’d taken a step toward the woman until he felt Anna’s hand on his arm. She shook her head.

“Don’t say anything,” she murmured. “Your mamm wouldn’t like it, and I don’t need defending.” Her smile flickered. “Your mamm would say that the irritating people in the church are sent to teach the rest of us patience.”

Ben gave a reluctant nod. Anna was right, and that sounded exactly like his mother. But still, he didn’t like to hear the woman talking that way about Mamm. And what made her so sure that Anna was second-best?

It seemed he’d lost some of his patience while he was living Englisch. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it lightly. “If so, Etta fills the role to perfection, ain’t so?”

Anna tried to suppress a giggle and didn’t quite succeed. Her eyes danced even as she shook her head at him.

How could he have ever thought her plain? When her face lit with laughter, she had an elusive beauty that intrigued him.

Whoa, don’t go there. He eased his hand away from hers. “Denke. For keeping me out of trouble.”

She glanced away, and a slight flush rose in her cheeks.

“And imagine that Ben Miller, sitting in worship like he belonged there.” Etta apparently wasn’t finished with his family yet. “He ought to be in the penitent seat. Why hasn’t he confessed?”

Interestingly, two of the women had drifted away, maybe not wanting to be associated with Etta’s views. The one who was left tried in vain to shush her with an agonized glance in their direction.

To Ben’s surprise, he felt Anna stiffen at his side. Was she really angrier at the slight to him than at the reflection on herself? Of course, knowing Anna, he suspected she wouldn’t admit to being angry at all. But she couldn’t deny the way her eyes snapped or the flush on her cheekbones.

Oddly enough, that amused him. “Relax,” he whispered. “I’ll show you how to deal with the Ettas of the world.”

Not looking back, he strode over to Etta and her embarrassed companion, hearing a small gasp from behind him.

“Etta Beachy. It’s nice to see you after all this time.” He produced a smile. “And this must be Sally Fisher, ain’t so?”

Sally nodded, her color high. “Gut to see you home again, Benjamin. Wilkom back.”

Etta, obviously not sure what he might have overheard, pressed her lips together into a thin line. For a moment he thought she wouldn’t say anything, but then she gave a short nod. “Your mamm must be pleased to see you after all this time.”

“Three years,” he said, determined not to let her ruffle him. “I see you haven’t changed a bit.” Still as big a blabbermaul as ever, he thought.

Something that might have been a chuckle escaped Sally. He nodded to each of them before heading for the table where Daad and his brothers were waiting. But on the way he couldn’t resist a glance back at Anna.

She shook her head at him, but her eyes twinkled. Maybe he’d taken the sting out of Etta’s comments for her.

Another thought struck him as he took his place at the table and he thought again of her reaction to the criticism of him. Perhaps Anna wasn’t quite as indifferent to him as she wanted him to believe.