Christmas in Apple Ridge (36 page)

“Rescue? Do you think I wanted to be saved from Mamm’s illness?” She held her hands open, thrusting them palms up as she spoke. “What? Do you think I’d have chosen to have a different Mamm just so I wouldn’t have to go through that hardship?”

“No, of course not. But your Mamm’s health has always been fragile, and you’ve had a heavy weight on you since you were little, long before she got lupus.”

“Open your eyes, Gideon Beiler.” She waved a finger in his face. “Sure, I’ve grieved for Mamm, but because of her fragility, I learned how to embrace each day with her as if it might be our last. I learned how to love and give without allowing her illness to pull me under.”

“But it did take its toll, day after day, year in and year out.”

“Tears and sleepless nights are not signs of weakness. Jesus
wept a few times in His life, and He was awake a lot while others slept. Does that mean He was too weak to cope? Or was He showing the depth and power of His compassion?”

Gideon wished he could make her see his point, but no counterargument came to him.

Mattie ducked her head, fighting tears. “It’s impressive that you had the strength to shut me out and go through that journey on your own, but you needed to have found the strength to let me in.” She lifted her chin. “Look at who I am. I spend months planning and preparing cakes that are marred with the first slice and devoured in minutes.” She drew a shaky breath. “But having something that I’ve worked on taken apart doesn’t make me give up. It’s the thrill of creating it and the joy it brings to others and the memories it gives that matter. That’s who I am. I wouldn’t have given up on you out of fear of what the future might bring. I would have done my best to make our lives a beautiful creation while enjoying whatever time we had.”

He heard sleigh bells in the distance. Someone was coming toward them. This conversation would end soon, and he wasn’t sure when they’d have another opportunity to speak so openly.

She stepped close and tugged on his shirt. “But I have no idea who you are. I haven’t for a really long time.” She took his coat off her shoulders and held it out to him. “I’m sorry about everything you’ve been through. But in your effort to protect
me, you killed the one person who mattered the most to me—you.”

“Hello.” Jonah brought the sleigh to a stop a few feet away from them.

Beth clapped her gloved hands. “You two have taken too long to come to Lizzy’s, and we’ve come to get you.”

“Wait, I’ll be right back.” Mattie disappeared into the house and moments later came out wearing her own coat and carrying the celebration cake.

“What’s that?” Beth asked.

Mattie passed it to her. “It’s a gift for you and your guests to enjoy tonight. But I’d like to go home. Would you mind dropping me off?”

“Of course not,” Jonah said.

“I can’t really see all the detail right now,” Beth said, examining the cake in the dark, “but I can tell it’s exquisite.”

“Mattie Lane,” Gideon whispered, “don’t go like this.”

She ignored him.

Beth lifted a blanket. “Kumm. We’ll drop the cake off at Lizzy’s and be on our way.”

Jonah helped Mattie into the sleigh. “Gideon, will you take Mattie’s horse and rig home so she’ll have it for the morning?”

“Ya.” He stood alone as they drove off, knowing that the only thing more devastating than having a serious illness was the destruction wrought while trying to cover it up.

M
attie’s head throbbed as she sat at the bride-and-groom table next to Gideon, trying to eat. Six hours ago in the basement filled with loved ones seated on folding chairs, Jonah had walked Beth down the aisle in this house—their home. Beth wore a crisp burgundy wine cape dress with a sheer white cape and apron in place of the usual black one. Mattie had on the exact same outfit, as did the other girls in the bridal party.

Traditionally, Amish couples got married in the home of the bride’s parents or an uncle, so today was very unusual—like Beth and Jonah themselves.

Beth sat across from Jonah, and Gideon sat between Beth and Mattie. The placement of who sat where was a tradition that had probably begun hundreds of years ago, possibly longer. But Mattie couldn’t take much more of being paired with Gideon.

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. The idea of Gideon
going through treatment without her support tormented her. She felt as if he’d just received the diagnosis, and the realization that he’d shut her out while trying to protect her made everything worse.

What was she supposed to think … or feel? He’d broken her heart, and, unknowingly, she’d been furious with him while he spent two years battling for his life.

Beth leaned behind Gideon, who was chatting with Jonah, and caught Mattie’s attention. “Gideon will lead the first round of songs, so be sure to tell him some of your favorites.”

Mattie did her best to keep a smile pasted on for Beth’s benefit, hoping not to dampen her cousin’s celebration. “I think I’ll choose some sad, pitiful dirges,” she teased, “to match your mood today.”

Beth laughed.

When Mattie sat forward, her eye caught Gideon’s, and it was all she could do to keep from bursting into tears. He’d betrayed her—both of them, really. When the main part of the meal was over, a multitude of women removed dirty tableware. Lizzy cut the cake and dished it onto dessert plates, and Beth’s sisters-in-law and aunts served everyone. Mattie enjoyed the
ooh
s over Beth and Jonah’s wedding cake and received compliments galore once people took a bite of it. Whatever else Gideon had destroyed or stolen, he hadn’t ruined the part of her that was a cake maker and decorator.

A distant, fuzzy thought tried to enter her consciousness, and she turned to Gideon as if studying him would bring clarity. He said he’d asked her brother James about Sol, but when? There was no way Gideon had talked to James on her phone at the store. And until her shop burned, James never went to the Kings’ store to use their phone. Had Gideon spent his limited strength and money to come to Ohio to check on her?

He turned to face her, and she knew he had. How many times had he come to Berlin in the last three years?

“Just think about our canoe ride down the Susquehanna … and the wild dance that man performed before he tipped us over,” Gideon whispered.

She allowed a weak smile to surface. Is that what got him through—thinking about their good times?

The endless questions were on her last nerve, and she wished they’d stop.

In a few minutes she could leave this spot and maybe be able to breathe again. By tradition, when the meal ended, close family would wash dishes and clean up while the bride and groom, their friends, and the other guests visited or freshened up. In an hour or so, everyone would reconvene for songs and rounds of snacks. She scanned the room, looking for her escape.

Mamm was going into a spare bedroom with a stack of wrapped gifts. That’d be a quiet, out-of-the-way place to hide for a bit. When Beth and Jonah got up to mingle, Mattie knew
she could disappear without being missed. She wound her way through the crowd, but before she got to the closed door of the bedroom, her Mamm opened it and stepped out.

Mamm grinned, shutting the door behind her. “Sorry, Mattie, this room is off-limits to anyone trying to take a peek at the gifts.”

Mattie fought the desire to shrink into her mom’s arms and weep.

Mamm’s smile faded into concern. “Mattie, sweetheart.” She cupped her face with her soft hands. “I thought you’d feel better today.”

Tears welled in Mattie’s eyes, and Mamm took her by the hand, led her into the room, and locked the door behind them. “You came home early last night and went straight to bed. And now you’re sad. What’s wrong?”

Mattie wiped her tears. “Gideon didn’t break up with me because of someone else. He lied about her, about a lot of things.”

Mamm stared wide-eyed. “Are you still in love with him?”

Mattie couldn’t answer her. She went into the half bath and rinsed her face, the cool water easing the burning in her eyes. “I might have thought I was yesterday, but how can I be?” She buried her face in a towel, trying to get control. She took a breath. “I don’t know who he is.”

“I was disappointed in him when he broke up with you. Truth of the matter is, I was really angry that he’d hurt you.” Mamm tightened her hands into fists and shook them before she smiled. “And if I’d seen him out and about, I might’ve scolded him, but he left Apple Ridge about the same time you did. During the first two years, I heard he returned for two or three days around Christmas. Then about a year ago, he returned for good, and I was at Verna’s when he came in. He didn’t look anything like the man who’d left here. But I talked with him for a bit. I don’t remember what it was about, but I saw …” She tapped the center of her chest. “I saw with the same part of me that sees God, and I knew right then that whatever took place between you two, he’s the same man he’s always been—patient, kind, and trustworthy.”

Mattie scoffed. “I’m pretty confident he’s not trustworthy, but I think …” She twisted the hand towel into a thick rope and moved from the tiny bathroom to the edge of the bed. “I
know
he still loves me. He’s never stopped loving me.”

“But you care for Sol now.”

“At least he’s not a liar. Gideon deceived me when he broke up with me. He was sick, Mamm, and he didn’t want me to know.”

“Sick?” she whispered. “Oh.” A faraway look entered her eyes. “Now it all makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t you see? His confession, which he made only because he was cornered with the truth, makes him a fraud and a hypocrite.”

“Oh, Mattie, sweetheart.” Mamm’s face crumpled, sadness and understanding shadowing her smile. She sat beside her. “If I could have spared you, my little sweet-sixteen girl, and your Daed from having to know about and cope with my illness, I would have.”

“What? No you wouldn’t.”

“Ya, I would’ve. And even though your brothers were married with homes of their own, I’d have spared them the heartache too if I’d known how. It may be the one dream shared by everyone struck with illness. If we could find a way, we’d keep our loved ones from shouldering the strain and hurt, from having their quality of life jerked away from them.”

Unable to accept what her mother had said, Mattie went to the window. Last night’s fresh layer of snow was marred and ugly because of people shoveling it out of the way, driving rigs across it, or walking through it. She felt like that snow looked. But life caused people to have to move about, and that meant mucking up the once-pristine landscape.

Mamm came to her side and put her arm around Mattie’s waist. “I always thought that his wanting to see other girls was a lie. I’ve asked your brothers and their children who are your age, and no one ever saw him with another girl. They say he’s
never gone to singings … except the Christmas ones. Even then, he came and left by himself.”

She’d loved their first date, when he took her to the Christmas singing, so much that she’d made him promise he’d always go until they were married. And it sounded as if he’d kept that promise, even when she wasn’t there to see it.

Mattie closed her eyes. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t our place. All we had was our speculation, and you assured me that you didn’t want to talk to Gideon about anything, that you just wanted to move to Berlin. So we let you. It was a year later when we saw him looking so poorly and attending a singing by himself. By that time your new business was taking off, and you were starting to see Sol, and we thought you were happy.”

Her self-righteous attitude melted. “What am I supposed to do? I’m with Sol.”

“Then explain that to Gideon. He set you free to do just that, didn’t he?”

“I didn’t want to be set free.”

Mamm lifted Mattie’s chin and looked into her eyes. “Mattie, do you love Sol?”

She wished Mamm hadn’t asked that. “I care for him a lot. But I’m not ready to marry him tomorrow.”

“Next year then?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“It’s okay to hate the sin of lying, but have mercy on the man who loves you more than himself.”

She blinked her eyes, trying not to cry. “I can’t hurt Sol.”

“If you love him, don’t let anything stop you from marrying him. But if you marry him for the wrong reasons, you
will
hurt him for years and years. And you’ll hurt yourself and Gideon too.” Mamm took her hand. “Now, kumm. I need to finish bringing presents in here, and you need to be fellowshipping with Beth and Jonah’s guests. Everyone here is buzzing about the cakes you made for these weddings.”

Her Mamm was so proud of her, but if she could see how selfishly her daughter acted at times, it’d wound her. When Mattie had moved to Ohio, she’d wasted no time starting to date others. What she should’ve done was take a little time to figure out why Gideon suddenly wanted to be free of her. But no, not her. She was too proud and too busy reorganizing her dreams to waste any time on him.

Halfway down the hallway Mattie tugged on Mamm’s hand, and she stopped. Mattie hugged her. “Denki.”

“Gern gschehne.”

As they left the hallway, Mattie saw Gideon across the room, standing near a window, talking with Aden Zook. In spite of his sin, his heart had been in the right place. And she did know who he was.