Heart in Hand: Stitches in Time Series #3 (20 page)

Adam, their driver, dropped Leah off first and then drove on to take Anna to her house. Anna’s eyes widened as she saw the buggy sitting in the drive.

Gideon stepped out.

“Someone you know?” Adam asked her, giving her a grin.

“I didn’t know you were coming over.” Anna found she was breathless.

Gideon waved at Adam as he backed the van out of the drive, then he turned to Anna. “Sarah Rose got invited to her grandparents’ house tonight.”

He bent his head, and their breath mingled. And then he kissed her, tentatively at first and then with more passion until she put her gloved hands on his chest and broke the kiss.

“I thought I’d see if you were free,” he said, his breath coming in little ragged puffs of white.

When she shivered, he ran his own gloved hands up and down her arms. “You’re cold.”

“We can’t go inside.”

“I know, I know.” He touched his forehead to hers, and then he gestured at his buggy. “I have a surprise for you.”

“I may fall asleep on you,” she warned as they walked toward it. “It’s been a very long week.”

“I don’t think you’ll fall asleep.” He helped her into the buggy, then went around to climb inside and get it moving.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said mysteriously.

He watched her face as he pulled into the drive of his friend Ira’s farm. A horse was hitched to a sleigh, and when he pranced and pawed the snowy ground, the sleigh bells on his collar jingled.

Anna turned to him and her eyes glowed. “Oh, what a perfect surprise!”

Ira held the horse’s reins until they climbed aboard, and Gideon tucked a woolen blanket around their laps. Then Ira handed the reins to Gideon, and they were off, gliding over the snow-covered ground, through the silent woods lit by the full moon rising in the sky.

“Warm enough?” he asked, holding one of her hands on top of the blanket.

“Mmm.”

“Hungry?”

“A little. But I don’t want to go. This is so lovely.”

“Ira’s wife packed a basket for us.” He gestured at the basket on the floor of the sleigh.

Anna reached down for it and lifted it onto the seat beside her. Inside she found a thermos and cups, several sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper, and a plastic container of Katie’s fruitcake cookies.

They stopped in a clearing and feasted on the sandwiches and drank the hot chocolate they found in the thermos. The wind blew gently through the bare branches of the trees and sent the ice on them tinkling like nature’s wind chimes.

“This is so romantic,” she said with a sigh, relaxing against his arm around her as she gazed up at the velvety night sky. “Did you arrange for the moon to be full tonight, too?”

“Absolutely. I wanted to show you a little romance after what you said the other night. About how you wondered if I just wanted to date you so I’d have a mother for my daughter.”

“That,” she said, shaking her head. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault,” he told her. “I was trying not to rush you, and maybe I was moving too slow. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

Gideon looked down at her hand resting in his, then back up at her. “Anna, marry me. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, God willing.”

Evidently, he’d shocked her speechless. She stared at him for the longest moment.

“It was an awkward time when we started dating. Marriage season,” he explained. “I wanted us to have the time we needed to get to know each other properly.”

He took her cold hands in his. “What do you say, Anna? Will you marry me? Can we start our lives together in the fall as man and wife?”

Anna opened the front door to her grandmother’s house and felt she stepped back in time to when she was a little girl attending her Christmas Eve gatherings.

Nothing had changed about the warm, delicious scents coming from the kitchen, the laughter and the welcomes she heard from the family and friends assembled within. She set her plate of cookies on the counter and surveyed the bounty of casseroles, breads, and desserts that would be eaten that evening. Then she walked into the living room.

Her
mamm
and
dat
were already there along with Mary Katherine and Jacob and Naomi and Nick and many of her other cousins and other relatives. She went to hug her grandfather, who sat by the fire cradling his newest great-grandchild.

Pine boughs tied with red ribbon and small pots of poinsettias adorned the mantel. There were candles everywhere lending a warm glow. They were the modern flameless ones with batteries hidden in them, Anna noticed, looking like real ones but so much safer with so many
kinner
running around the room.

She said her hellos and gave and received hugs. But as the room filled with those she loved, she wished for the one—actually, two—who weren’t there. Gideon and Sarah Rose had their own family to visit, and she wouldn’t see them until the next day.

Leah asked everyone to take a seat, and quiet settled over the room. The great-grandchild was taken off for a nap. Grandfather made himself comfortable in the big armchair, opened his worn Bible, and found the story of the birth of the Christ Child.

It was her favorite part of Christmas, this story of that long-ago night when there was no room at the inn and a very special baby had been born.

The room was quiet but for the occasional pop from the sap as the wood burned in the fireplace while her grandfather quietly read the story. His body might be old and feeble, but his voice sounded strong and commanding, filling the room. Anna glanced around and saw that every person there—child to adult—listened, rapt.

Afterwards, Anna helped the other women set out the many dishes that had been brought: ham and turkey and sandwiches and casseroles and cookies . . . my, she’d never seen so many cookies. Her frosted sugar cookies went fast. They always did.

Hours later, after the last Christmas memory had been retold, the last crumb had been eaten, the last wish for a wonderful Second Christmas had been made, the last dish washed, Anna watched the last buggy roll down the road. She closed the door and gazed out at the snow beginning to fall gently.

“Shall we have a cup of tea before bed?”

“That would be nice.” She stayed at the window, looking out.

“Missing someone?” her grandmother asked, coming to slip her arm around Anna’s waist. “Or maybe two someones?”

“Gideon needed to spend tonight with his parents. They’re not really able to get out much these days. Not in the cold weather, anyway.”

“But next year . . . maybe you’ll be spending it with Gideon and Sarah Rose and his parents.”

Anna smiled. Her grandmother wasn’t fishing for information—she would ask if she wanted to know something.

The teakettle whistled, and Anna moved quickly to turn off the flame beneath it and pour them both a cup of hot water. Anna breathed in the soothing scent of chamomile as she sat at the table and tried to relax.

“So tell me what’s troubling you.”

It was a statement, not a question. Her grandmother knew her so well.

“What makes you think I’m troubled?” she asked, bluffing.

Her grandmother just looked at her. “All day today while you’ve been helping me you’ve had that little line between your eyebrows, the one you get when you’re thinking about something troubling. And you were very quiet. That’s not like you.”

“Are you saying I talk too much?” Anna asked in what she hoped was a teasing voice.

Leah reached over to take her hand. “You were almost withdrawn tonight.”

“I’m just tired. We’ve been so busy at the shop and then all the cleaning and cooking.”

“True. But I also know that anniversary dates of when we lost our husbands are hard, too.” She paused, looking at Anna with sympathy. “Especially when they’re near a holiday.”

Anna pushed her mug away. “Bless Samuel,” she said after a moment. “He held on until after Christmas. Tammy, the hospice nurse, was amazed. Said he told her he didn’t want Christmas ruined for me if he died that day.”

She sighed and rubbed at her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “Samuel didn’t consider that I’d think about him every day. Especially near Christmas. After all, how could I not remember that was the season our dreams died?”

Her grandmother reached over and grasped her hand. “Samuel had a will of iron, and he wanted to live for you even more than for himself. But just before he died he told me he wondered if it was God’s will for him to go.”

“I know. You told me.” That had happened on one of the days when her grandmother and some of her friends had come to the house and insisted Anna take a break. She hadn’t wanted to but, under their kind, yet firm insistence, had taken their buggy and gone into town for a few hours. She’d come home to
find Samuel talking with her grandmother and noticed that he seemed more at peace than he’d been in a long while.

The other women had fussed over her, making her eat some soup they’d prepared and waved away her thanks for them cleaning up the house and putting some meals in the freezer.

“That’s what I figured it was.” Still, Leah watched her. “Is everything all right with you and Gideon?”

Anna lifted her chin. “Everything’s fine.” More than fine, she wanted to say. He asked me to marry him and I said yes.

So why didn’t I say that?
Anna wondered.
And why didn’t I say yes to Gideon?

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive. I’m just tired. And, of course, I’m a little disappointed that he couldn’t come tonight. But I’ll see him tomorrow.”

She yawned and covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m glad you invited me to spend the night. I think I’ve got just enough energy to climb the steps and fall into your guest bed.”

Getting up, she walked to the sink to wash her cup, then did the same when her grandmother handed her the cup she’d used. Together they climbed the stairs to their rooms and exchanged a hug before going into them.

But long after she climbed into the narrow bed in her grandmother’s guest room, Anna lay there, exhausted from her day but totally unable to sleep.

Second Christmas dawned cold and clear.

Visitors began arriving after breakfast bearing good wishes and presents. Last night they had celebrated the birth of Christ, the gift of God to man.

Today was a day to celebrate the joy of the season and the gifts friends and family had made, gifts made from the heart and hands.

Gideon and Sarah Rose showed up at 9:00 a.m. dressed in their Sunday best.

“Hope it’s not too early,” he said, looking sheepish. “Someone here couldn’t wait.”

“Merry Christmas!” Sarah Rose cried, holding out a package covered a bit clumsily with wrinkled wrapping paper and a lot of tape. A package almost bigger than she was.

“Thank you!” Anna accepted the gift and bent to hug her. “Come inside. It’s cold out!” She carried the box and surreptitiously shook it to see if she could guess what it was, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Gideon.

He grinned at her and took the box. “No guessing.”

Sarah Rose bounded into the house. “Leah! I have a present for you!”

Anna smiled at him. “How about some coffee to warm you up?”

His eyes darkened. “How about a kiss?” he asked in a lowered voice.

“Hey, Gideon, are you coming or going?”

John slapped him on the back and eased past him to enter the house.

Shrugging, Gideon stepped inside and slapped the other man on the back. “Coming,” he said. “Not letting you eat all the food!”

Anna shook her head and smiled as she shut the door and followed Gideon inside. Like Sarah Rose, he carried packages. Unfortunately, he hadn’t put tags on any of them so that she could tell which was meant for her.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked quietly, leaning forward so no one could hear.

Not that anyone paid them any attention. John talked animatedly with Lizzie in the kitchen, gesturing with the cookie in his hand as he spoke. Leah sat with several friends in the kitchen, enjoying tea and plates of goodies.

She nodded. “Why don’t you two go into the living room and I’ll get your coffee? Sarah Rose, someone gave me a package of white hot chocolate mix. Shall we try it?”