A Miracle of Hope (The Amish Wonders Series) (24 page)

“Be careful, Josiah.” Lindie wanted to add that it wasn’t good to spoil a child. She untied her winter bonnet and removed it. Snow fluttered to the floor. “Maybe you should consider starting off small. She could build her supplies as she learns.”

“So you think I’m spoiling her?”

She lifted one foot to remove her boot and wobbled.

Josiah steadied her while she finished taking them off. “Well?” He waited.

“You said yourself that you wanted the
very best
for your
maydel
.” She pushed the wet boots out of the way. “Sounds like spoiling to me.”

“So it does.” He smiled. “There should be paper inside the
top drawer of the desk. Will you jot me a list of the names of those fancy brushes?”

“Sure.” She sat down at the desk, pulled out a piece of paper from the drawer, and wrote down the names. She also made a list of ingredients she needed for baking.

The door opened and Simon and Hannah entered. Hannah shucked her coat at the door.

Simon craned his head toward the desk. “Did you find the package that came for you, Lindie? I left it on the kitchen table.”

“A package? For me?” Lindie shot out of the desk chair.

She scooted past them and rushed into the kitchen. The return label on the box was Eli’s address. She grabbed a knife from the drawer and cut open the package. Yarn. She stopped herself from squealing with delight. Margaret knew how much she loved to knit. Lindie pulled out several different colored balls. At the bottom of the box, she found material—enough yards to make several outfits for the baby. Perhaps even a new dress for Hannah and herself. She opened the note.

Lindie,

I wanted to send you some material.

I wish we could spend the day sewing together like old times.

The yarn is left over from knitting, but you should be able to make plenty of potholders out of it.

I miss you. Write when you can.

Margaret

Lindie smiled. “I miss you too,” she whispered.

“
Nau
you’ll have something to do while you’re on bed rest,” Josiah said, coming up beside her.

“Shh.” Lindie didn’t want Simon to overhear and ask if she was ill. She reached for cups from the cupboard and set them on the counter.

“
Nay
caffeine,” Josiah said as she lifted the coffeepot.

“Half a cup.”

He shook his head. “The
doktah
said none.”

Footsteps stopped behind them. Simon cleared his throat. “While you’re going after Jakob, I’d like to talk with Lindie.”

Chapter Eighteen

L
indie tried to recall the last time Simon had spoken directly to her. She wiggled the kettle. “Can I pour you a cup of
kaffi
?”

“Nay denki.”
He pulled a chair away from the table and sat. “Will you join me?”

Lindie returned the kettle to the stovetop. She swept her hand over the front of her dress and drew in a steady breath. She took the seat opposite him at the table.

Simon cleared his throat. “I know things were rough for you at the start given the . . . unusual circumstances.”

He hadn’t indicated he was aware of her pregnancy before, but she couldn’t imagine what else he could be referring to.

“You seem to have adjusted.”

“I think so.”

“Hannah has too. And Josiah . . .” His voice drifted off.

Lindie swallowed hard. “Is something wrong?” She didn’t know Simon well enough to decipher the distant look in his eyes or his sober expression. Earlier, under the quilt in the buggy, she had felt so close to Josiah. His face had lit up when he spread
his hand over her belly. In that moment, she’d allowed herself to pretend it was Josiah’s baby growing inside of her.

“Josiah’s been under a lot of stress lately.”

Lindie nodded. “That’s
mei
fault.” She barely mouthed the words. Simon had told her that himself not long ago.

“This cough he has . . . it’s lingered for weeks. He hasn’t had a cold this prolonged in six years. Has he complained of
nacht
sweats?”

She hadn’t shared the night with him to know the answer. Warmth spread over her face, and she shifted on the chair and looked down at the puddle of melted snow from Simon’s boots.

“I’m worried about him. I don’t know that he should be taking trees down.”

Lindie bowed her head.
Give me the right words of comfort, Lord
. She looked at him and spoke softly. “I know it was hard on both you and Josiah losing Caroline the way you did. I don’t know why he’s so adamant about timbering again. I told him
mei bruder
would understand.”

“I’m worried he isn’t well enough to be working in the woods.”

The door opened and Hannah peeked around the corner. Josiah walked up to the kitchen table. “I left word for Jakob to
kumm
over when he can. The bishop said he was running an errand.”

“I think I’ll work on the pallets,” Simon said as he made his way to the door.

Josiah leaned close to Lindie. “What was that all about?”

“He’s worried about you.”

He pulled back and pointed at his chest. “Me?”

“He thinks you’ve been coughing too much.”

“Someone needs to tell him this is flu season.” Josiah laughed, but it broke into a cough.

“Hmm. Sounds like Simon has a valid point. I think you need to stay inside where it’s warm.”

“Are you the
doktah nau
?” He wagged his brows. “You’re on bed rest yourself. How are you going to take care of me? Because I can cough a lot more.” He exaggerated a fake cough, then winked.

“In all seriousness, Josiah, I don’t think you should work in the woods. Wait until spring.”

His playfulness sobered. “This is something I have to do.”

“I’ll write Eli a letter and explain how—”

His fingers covered her mouth. “It isn’t about Eli.” He dropped his hand, turned, and picked up the box she’d received. “
Nau
follow me.”

She trailed him to her bedroom where he set the box on the floor, then fluffed the feather pillows and pulled the covers back.

“Get in,” he said.

Only two weeks to get Christmas gifts and baking done and she was stuck lying in bed all day. Lindie batted her eyes but failed to get a different response from him. She plopped down on the bed.

Josiah sat on the edge of the mattress. “In a few minutes, I’m going to send Hannah in here. I don’t want her outside when I bring those trees down. Can you make sure she stays with you?”

Josiah decided not to wait for Jakob. If the trees were already down when Jakob arrived, Josiah could use him to help debark and lumber them. Besides, the more he thought about it, he couldn’t risk the trees falling the wrong way. He didn’t even
want to bring Moose out until the trees were ready to be hauled out of the woods.

Josiah sharpened the axe against the grinding stone, his thoughts flitting. Could he really move forward? Simon seemed to think Josiah was ready. But he and Lindie had a long way to go before any real change would happen. They must build a friendship first before he would consider inviting her into his bed. A prickly sweat broke out under his clothes at the thought. He wasn’t ready.

Josiah checked the blade’s sharpness. It was ready. There was no sense putting this off. He’d spent three years wondering what life would be like had the tree fallen in a different direction.

The snow crunched under his boots as he made his way out to the woods. The long walk provided ample opportunity to unearth the past. Memories he’d buried in order to protect his heart now were exposed. It was time he dealt with reality. He supposed this was part of the healing process. Until recently, he never thought he would want to go forward.

Josiah scanned the area. The lumber trail, once wide enough for a wagon, was overgrown with brush. The chains would easily get tangled. He chose a standing of elm trees close to the edge so it wouldn’t be too difficult for Moose to drag them out.

Josiah leaned the axe against the tree, pulled his hankie out of his pocket, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Taking the first swing was more difficult than he thought. He swept the snow off a fallen log and sat down.

Jesus, I need your strength to get beyond this moment. I believe Caroline is with you and it’s time for me to go on with
mei
life. Hannah, Simon . . . we all need to move forward. Jesus, will you show me how to open
mei
heart to Lindie? Love her the way you love the church?

Josiah sat with his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands until the cold and wet log soaked into his pants. He stood, walked around the selected tree, and determined the best direction for it to fall. He chopped a few notches in the side he wanted to drop, then moved to the opposite side.

He readied the axe as someone cleared his throat behind him. He brought the axe back down.

“I thought you could use some help,” Simon said.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Simon nodded.

Josiah and Simon worked in unison, both consumed with their own thoughts. When the tree hit the ground with a thunderous thud, they shared a moment of silence.

Josiah wiped his face with his coat sleeve. He cleared his throat. “I’ll start removing the limbs if you want to get Moose and the chains.”

“
Jah
, okay.” Simon limped over to the field.

Josiah straddled the log and chiseled away at the branches with the hatchet. When Simon returned with Moose, Jakob was with him. Several hours later Josiah held his lower back and stretched. Every muscle ached. He ambled into the house exhausted.

Lindie met him at the door. She helped him out of his coat, then insisted he sit down.

She knelt down in front of him and unlaced his boots. “Are you okay? You look dog tired.” She tugged hard and his sock came off with the boot. “You smell like cedar pitch. I thought you were taking down elm trees,” she said, pulling off the other boot.

“I needed an extra tree.”

“What for?” She set his socks aside.

He leaned down and smiled. “Can’t a man have any secrets?”

“You were out there so long, you had me going crazy with worry.”

He reached for her hands and pulled her up off her knees, then stood. “I think I like the sound of that,” he said, leaning toward her. He caught himself about to kiss her and jerked back. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, but a crimson shade flashed over her face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I’ll get you a dry pair of socks.”

Chapter Nineteen

U
nder Josiah’s mandate, Lindie had followed the doctor’s orders and for four long days she’d stayed in bed. It hadn’t been all bad. She’d had plenty of time to knit Josiah and Simon scarves for Christmas. She hoped they weren’t too put off by the multiple colors. None of the balls of yarn were full skeins. But since Joseph in the Bible had a coat of many colors, maybe they’d be okay with it.

But now it was Sunday. Lindie tossed the covers aside, crawled out of bed, and quickly selected a forest-green dress and black apron to wear. Josiah couldn’t possibly expect her to miss church service.

Standing at the stove, Josiah looked sideways at her and frowned as she entered the kitchen. Not the warm greeting she’d wanted.

“What are you doing out of bed?” He stirred the oatmeal, which smelled like cinnamon.

“This is Sunday.” That should be enough reason, but she continued, “I feel fine. Great, in fact. And I’m well rested.”

“Is that so?” He removed the spoon and set it aside, then
moved the pot of oatmeal over to the wire cooling rack. “You feel great?” He crossed the room.

“Jah.”
She squared her shoulders.

“Well rested, you say?” Josiah placed his hand on her lower back and turned her toward the hall. “
Gut
, then I must be doing something right.” He prodded her forward.

“Josiah.” She wheeled around, bumping into his chest. He stepped back, but she closed the distance between them. “Up until
nau
, I’ve bitten
mei
tongue when you’ve hovered over me as though you were calculating every calorie I consumed.”

“And you’re finally gaining some weight.” His eyes traveled the length of her.

“I’m
nett
spending another day in that bed.
Mei
backside will spawn bedsores.”

He grinned and tugged on her elbows, drawing her closer to him. She peered up into his eyes as he towered above her.

He bent so that his cheek rested against hers and whispered next to her ear, “I can make a paste that will take care of your backside problem.”

She sprung back, finger pointing. “That’s
nett
funny.”

Still grinning, he shrugged.

“Don’t you have livestock to feed before church?”

“I already did the chores. I wanted to have enough time to sit with you while you ate breakfast.”

“You mean monitor
mei
intake. Are you keeping record of what I eat?”

“
Jah
, I am.” He turned her around. “And by the way,” he said, nudging her toward the hallway, “you’re
nett
drinking enough milk.
Nau
get back into bed and I’ll bring your breakfast in.”