Huckleberry Christmas (17 page)

He responded by squeezing her with those strong arms and leaving her breathless in a thousand different ways. “Beth, my Beth. I love you like crazy.” She felt powerless to do anything but try to stay on her feet. She feared her knees might buckle at any second or she might float off the ground and never come down again. Had her heart ever beat such a wild rhythm before?

His mouth returned to hers, and his second kiss was filled with longing and tenderness so profound that Beth ached with compassion. How could she not love this man?

He pulled away from the kiss but still held her close. “Remember when I told you I didn’t believe in love? I made a mistake. I’ve never felt anything like this before. I’m so far off the ground that I’m halfway to Heaven. I want to marry the woman I love. The woman I can’t live without. I want to marry you, Beth. Please say yes.”

With her hands still around his neck, Beth laced her fingers together to keep them from trembling. This did nothing to steady her ragged breathing. “I thought you didn’t care about love.”

He withdrew from their embrace and placed his hands on her shoulders. “If I were willing to settle for just anybody, you know I’d be married already. There are probably a dozen girls who’d say yes to me tomorrow if I asked. Lorene Zook, Millie Coblenz, even Eva Raber would probably say yes, if I could convince her to say anything. Don’t you see, Beth? That’s not what I want.”

Beth took a step back. His words knocked her out of her romantic stupor and brought her crashing back to reality. The pain and heartache of three years with Amos assaulted her as the memories came flooding back. “Why did you say that?”

He stiffened and squared his shoulders as if readying for an attack. She’d done it to him too many times before. “I’m sorry if what I say upsets you, Beth. But I won’t take it back. I love you.”

How many times had Amos said he loved her before they were married? Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes. “Amos often told me he could have married any girl in our district. He’d point them out after gmay.
Look, Beth, there’s Grace Martin. Look how pretty she is. She wanted to marry me. I could have had Wanda Weaver or Esther Miller, who actually knows how to cook. I could have had any girl I wanted, and I got stuck with you.
” She choked on the memory.

Pain and anger burned in Tyler’s eyes. The raw emotion she saw there made her catch her breath. His words were slow and measured as if he kept his composure with great effort. “You’re always saying you want me to fight back,” he said, the muscles in his jaw tensing, “but I refuse to fight with a dead man. I am not Amos Hostetler, and if I haven’t convinced you of that by now, I never will.”

“Amos used to—”

His control almost crumbled. “I don’t care what Amos used to do,” he snapped, his eyes flashing with lightning.

Beth froze. In all the time she had known him, with all the abuse she had heaped upon him, she had never seen him truly angry before.

Taking a deep breath, Tyler turned his face from her and wiped his gloved hand across his mouth. When he spoke, his self-possession had returned. “You don’t want to see the kind of man I really am, because you’d rather hold on to your pain like a security blanket. You can refuse to trust God because of what happened in the past, but I refuse to suffer because of it.” He took a step toward her and reached out a hand but lowered it before she had time to decide if she wanted to take it. “I love you better than my own soul, Beth, but I’ll not compete with a dead man for the rest of my life. You won’t forgive Amos, and you’re angry with God.”

“What do you know?”

“Oh, you’re angry all right. You’ve given God the cold shoulder ever since I’ve known you. You think you can manage your life all by yourself with no help from anyone, even Him.”

“Because God abandoned me.”

“You’re wrong, Beth. If you were willing to open your eyes, you’d see His tender mercies everywhere. And you’re fooling yourself if you think you don’t need to be rescued. But I can’t do it. Open your heart and let Jesus change you. Nothing else is good enough.” Frowning with his entire body, he reached up and yanked the mistletoe from its string. “Please accept my apology for what I said about all those other girls. But I’m done explaining myself.” He tromped out of the barn, leaving it a much more desolate place. Springtime had disappeared, and she felt as cold and empty as a starless winter night.

Beth should have been overjoyed, but she felt numb. She snipped the thread and held out the mint-green dress for a final look. Her last Christmas order and it was a whole nine days before Christmas. She’d made enough money to put away five hundred dollars and have a little leftover for some Christmas shopping for Toby and the rest of her family.

She glanced at Mammi, who was washing up the breakfast dishes. After last Friday night, Mammi hadn’t exactly been cross with her, but she’d acted like an exasperated mother whose child wouldn’t eat her broccoli. “My dear,” she had cried when Beth told her about the mistletoe disaster, “how am I ever going to convince you that your mammi knows best?”

Toby sat on Dawdi’s lap while Dawdi read him a book. With wide eyes, he bounced excitedly on his great-great-grandfather’s lap with his finger in his mouth. Dawdi never actually got through a whole book. Toby just liked turning pages. Toby could use a new pair of shoes and another book for Christmas. And maybe a ball. Toby loved playing catch with Tyler.

Beth’s heart grew heavier at the thought. Toby wouldn’t be playing ball with Tyler again. The balls would be a waste of money.

Beth blinked back the unjustifiable tears. She would be fine. Just fine. Better to be sad over what might have been than to risk another miserable marriage.

Miserable marriage? Her heart rebelled at the thought that marriage to Tyler would be terrible. Tyler, who always put others before himself, couldn’t be as bad as Amos. But how could she know for sure? She refused to take the risk. Better to be lonely than desperately unhappy.

But at the moment, she didn’t feel merely lonely. Her heart had cracked into a million shards of glass. Could she live with that pain for the rest of her life?

Hearing a quick step on the porch, she smoothed her apron and willed her heart to slow to a gallop. Her reaction was silly. It wouldn’t possibly be Tyler. He’d told her he was done explaining himself. He wouldn’t be back.

Her cousin Aden poked his head into the great room. “Hello, everybody,” he said, with the wide smile that seemed to be a permanent part of his face. Beth hadn’t seen him without one since he’d married Lily Eicher. “We are here to finish that chest for Lily.”

We
? Beth held her breath. Tyler was surely with him.

“How nice to see you,” Mammi said.

“Tyler made me promise to come.” He glanced at Beth with a playful gleam in his eye. “Although I think he’d say he spent his time well on those days I didn’t show up.”

Beth couldn’t muster any kind of smile. Aden obviously didn’t yet know that Tyler had given up on her or that he would probably consider his hours on Huckleberry Hill a complete waste of time.

“Tyler’s right behind me in his sleigh,” Aden said. “Dawdi, do you want to come out and help us?”

“Sure do.”

“I’ll go out and get started,” Aden said. He nearly shut the door before swinging it open again. “It’s nice to see you, Beth. I’m sure Tyler will be in to say hello.”

Nae, he wouldn’t.

Dawdi closed the book and placed Toby on his feet. He rocked back and forth a few times to gather enough momentum to stand. He retrieved his heavy coat from the hook and pulled his gloves, hat, and scarf from three different pockets. When sufficiently bundled, he tromped out the door.

“Make sure Tyler comes in to see us before he leaves,” Mammi said.

Beth’s heart raced. She should have told Dawdi not to bother but couldn’t bear to say it. She wanted to see Tyler in the worst way. Oy, anyhow.

The corner of Dawdi’s mouth quirked upward. “I ain’t about to tell Tyler Yoder what to do. He’s a man. He can make up his own mind.”

Mammi raised her eyebrows as if Dawdi were the one who wouldn’t eat his broccoli. “Do you really believe that, Felty?”

Dawdi chuckled, shook his head, and walked out. He started singing the minute the door closed behind him. “
Joy to the world, I love my Annie-banannie, but she should keep her nose out of other people’s porridge.
” His lyrics didn’t quite fit the rhythm of the original music, but he altered the tune somewhat to make it work out. Despite her low spirits, Beth smiled.

Mammi propped her wet hands on her hips. “I’m not fond of porridge. I prefer to stick my fingers in other people’s pies.”

Beth had the sudden overpowering need to jump from her chair at the sewing machine and race to the kitchen. She dropped the new mint-green dress on the table before stealing a peek out the window. She caught a glimpse of Tyler’s leg before it disappeared into the barn with the rest of him. Her heart flip-flopped. It was a very good leg.

She turned to see Mammi staring at her with a loving scold on her lips. “I truly thought the mistletoe would work.”

Beth pretended to be very interested in some fabric scraps on the table so Mammi wouldn’t see the flash of pain in her eyes. “I already told you, Mammi. Tyler and I are just friends.”

Mammi dried her hands on a towel, came around the counter, and wrapped her arms around Beth’s waist for a grandmotherly hug. “Dear Beth. Why do you want to be so miserable?”

“I don’t. I want to be happy.”

“Then why are you jogging down the road to unhappiness? No, not jogging. Sprinting. I’m trying to get you turned around, but you’re not making it easy.”

“I can’t be so shortsighted as to trade my future, even for something I want wonderful-bad right now. That was my mistake with Amos.”

“You don’t think Tyler will make you happy?”

“He might, but I can’t be sure. My first marriage cured me of any desire to marry again.”

Mammi pulled out a chair and motioned for Beth to sit. Then she sat and reached under the table, where she kept a ready basket of knitting supplies. She took up a pair of needles already threaded with blue yarn and started knitting. It came as naturally as breathing to her. “I’m knitting a blanket for Suvilla Mast and Alvin Hoover’s wedding in April, in case you wanted to know. Have you noticed how my matches always seem to work out?”

“Except for me, Mammi.”

“You shouldn’t let Amos ruin the rest of your life. He was a pill, but do you really want to give his memory that much power?”

Beth leaned her head on her hand. “It was so hard.”

“Well, I can’t help you there. Marriage is hard work. One time I made Felty so mad, he slept in the barn for a week. But our disagreements forced us to learn to get along. He would hurt my feelings, and I would make him so mad he couldn’t spit straight, but he got tired of sleeping in the barn. We had to talk even when we couldn’t stand to look at each other.” She patted Beth’s hand. “No person will make you as happy or as angry as your husband. But if you can’t bear the sorrow, you’ll never know the happiness.”

“Amos never made me happy.”

“Maybe you weren’t married long enough.”

“We were married too long.”

Mammi shook her head. “In marriage, you have to give a little.”

“To the point of losing myself?”

“To the point of becoming your best self and helping him become his best self.” With yarn poised on her knitting needles, Mammi leaned in and whispered as if she were sharing some grand secret even though Toby was the only one around to hear. “Don’t you see? You are strong, Beth. Amos might have learned eventually. You could have taught him how to be a gute husband.”

Beth fell silent. She didn’t know if she believed that. Would she have found the strength to insist that Amos be a better man? “What if he had refused to be better?”

“Then God would have told you to leave him and given you the strength to do it.”

Beth drew back in surprise. “Leave him? I couldn’t have left him. I would have been excommunicated.”

Mammi shrugged. “There are some married Amish folks living apart, usually because one of them is too proud to change. It happens. We don’t believe in divorce, but I am convinced that God would never want one of his children to be treated the way you were treated. He wants you to be happy.”

“But He didn’t stop me from marrying Amos in the first place.”

Mammi’s needles clicked in comforting rhythm. “God lets everyone make their own choices. Amos chose to be mean. God would have let him reap the consequences of those choices. You could have come back to Wisconsin to live with your folks. Or even left the church, if it came down to that. God would have shown you the way.”

Beth shook her head. “He never did before.”

Mammi’s smile brimmed with patience. “Now, Beth, God never left you without help, even when you were with Amos. Especially when you were with Amos. But maybe you were too angry at Him to recognize it.”

“I’ve been angry at God for a long time,” she murmured.

“It’s time to stop being angry and start listening instead of fighting Him.”

Beth stood and looked out the window at the barn. She thought of Tyler, talking and laughing with Dawdi and Aden instead of her. Envy stabbed at her. She wanted to see his smile more than winter wanted to see spring.

“Tyler won’t come back by wishing him to, and like as not, he won’t return unless you mend a whole pasture of fences.”

“I just . . . want him to be my friend.”

Mammi smiled with her whole face. “A boy that scrambled in love doesn’t want to be friends.” Sighing plaintively, she leaned on the table and pushed herself to her feet. “Let’s get labels on these jam jars,” she said, as if she’d forgotten the entire conversation. “They need more huckleberry jam at the Christmas bazaar. They’re going to sell out this year, Lord willing.”

Beth bit her bottom lip. No matter how hard it would prove to be, she must patch up her friendship with Tyler. The thought of him out of her life left her gasping for air.

She helped Mammi bring the supplies to the table—two-dozen half-pints of jam plus pens and labels. They wrote out labels while Toby played on the rug, occasionally coming to Beth for a drink of “wadi” or a cracker. Beth hardly said a word. Her concentration centered on the inside of the barn, where Tyler stained a chest of drawers with her cousin Aden.

Dawdi opened the door and stomped the snow off his boots before stepping into the house.

“How’s it going out there?” Beth asked, trying to keep her tone casual.

Dawdi hung up his coat and pulled a small brown bag from his pocket. Studying Beth’s face, he said, “About as good as it’s going in here, it would seem. You’re looking as grim as an undertaker, and Tyler is trying to smile so hard his lips are bound to turn blue.”

Things were worse than she’d thought. It wasn’t like Tyler to pretend to anything. His solemn expression had always attested to his inner calm. He obviously wasn’t feeling any peace at the moment if he grinned until his face hurt.

Dawdi placed the sack in her hand and cocked an eyebrow. “He asked me to give this to you, and he said not to be mad.”

Her heart sank as she turned the bag upside-down and four thick spools of thread tumbled from it. She couldn’t be mad. The hurt overtook every other emotion. He couldn’t talk her into marrying him, but he still must have felt obligated to be nice.

She had turned into one of his service projects.

She didn’t want to be one of his service projects. She wanted things to be the way they had been four days ago when they had shared a glorious evening on a hayride under the stars. She wanted it to be just like that but without the kissing or handholding. She only wanted to be friends. At this moment, Tyler’s friendship felt more important to her than any other relationship in her entire life.

By the twentieth label, when her hand stiffened up, she quit debating with herself and determined to march out to the barn and persuade Tyler to talk to her, like they had always been able to talk with each other. She’d scold him for buying her thread, and he’d sprout that guilty grin he always got when he knew what he’d done had irritated her. She’d make him laugh at least three times. She could always make him laugh.

She hurriedly finished the labels for Mammi, dashed to her room, and gathered Toby’s hat, coat, and mittens. Toby’s presence would ensure that Tyler would at least agree to talk to her. Even if Tyler wanted to avoid her, he couldn’t resist Toby’s big blue eyes and chubby cheeks.

Her limbs felt weak as she stepped out the door with Toby tightly in her arms. Why should she be so shaky? She’d seen Tyler four days ago. It wasn’t as if they’d been apart for years and years. Still, she placed Toby on the ground and let him crunch through the snow as she held tightly to his hand. Unfortunately, he didn’t like to be constrained. Pulling against her, he threw his head back and grunted his displeasure.

“Come on, Toby,” she coaxed.

He pulled harder and flopped down in the snow.

She squatted and lifted him to his feet. “Toby, Toby,” she said, as he struggled in her arms. “We’re going to go find Tyler. Do you want to see Tyler?”

Toby’s eyes lit up. “Mommy.”

Toby let her take his hand and lead him to the barn. She swung open the door, and their footsteps echoed in the cold, dim space.

“Mommy,” Toby called.

Tyler and Aden were gone. How had she not seen them leave from the kitchen window?

Her disappointment felt as palpable as if she were choking on a piece of stale bread. She needed to see Tyler. Why had he left without even a glance in her direction? Her eyes involuntarily traveled to the ceiling, where an empty string dangled from one of the rafters. Tyler had kissed her right here. The mere memory sent a thrill dancing up her spine.

Why was she fighting this? Why did she struggle so hard to deny what lay in the very core of her soul—the thing that would make her deliriously happy and fill her life with purpose again?

Because if she admitted her true feelings, she would have to do something about them.

Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe as the truth came rushing toward her and almost knocked her over. She loved Tyler so fiercely she thought her heart might burst with the intensity of it. But fear paralyzed her—the same fear that had been her constant companion since Amos died. It felt like a mountain impossible to climb.