Sarah's Gift (14 page)

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “I take it you and Benjamin are on the outs at the moment.”

Again, she thought, and saw by Molly’s expression that she was thinking the same.

“Ach, the foolish boy thinks he should spend Christmas Day at Louise’s house,” Molly said. “He’ll forget it soon enough, if we just ignore it. After all, it’s not as if Louise’s parents would even invite him. They think Louise is too young to become serious about anyone.”

“As Benjamin is,” Aaron growled, clearly not ready to regard the situation lightly.

“Now, Aaron, the boy knows that at heart,” Molly said. “Least said, soonest mended. Goodness, Nathan was just as foolish. Remember when he thought he’d go off to New York to celebrate New Year’s Eve? Boys that age are always coming up with silly ideas they know perfectly well they can’t do. I’m sure Sarah would agree with me.”

Molly seemed determined to put her on the spot. Sarah shook her head.

“I don’t think Aaron needs my opinion on the subject.” And she had no desire to have him glaring at her again.

Instead, he smiled at her with a warmth she was sure was only momentary. No matter—it still made her heart turn over.

“You’d be wrong about that, Sarah. I do value your gut opinion.”

Her heart wasn’t just turning over. It was melting in a silly puddle of warmth. Silly or not, she may as well admit the truth, just to herself. She was falling in love with this man.

It was crazy, and it could never lead to anything but heartache, but it was true. She loved him.

Aaron
made one last try at getting out of going to Emma’s as he climbed into the buggy on Friday. “It looks like this snow might start to stick. Maybe we’d be better off to stay home.”

Nathan gave him a surprised look, while Benjamin, still nursing a grudge, stared off into the distance.

Molly waved off that objection as she had all the rest. “Nonsense. We’re just going down the road. We could walk home if we had to. Now stop making excuses, and let’s get going.”

He got in and picked up the lines, clucking to the horse. “You boss your Jacob around like that, do you?”

“Jacob doesn’t try my patience with silly arguments,” Molly said, her voice tart. “You know as well as I do that Emma would be hurt if we didn’t show up today. Besides, that would be like advertising to the whole valley that you hold a grudge against her.”

“Ja,” Nathan pitched in. “You’ll have the bishop komm to call at that, ain’t so?”

“Aaron thinks he knows better that anyone. Even the bishop.”

Benjamin’s words might have been just brotherly insults had it not been for the edge in his voice. Aaron had to bite his tongue to hold back a retort. The boy was trying his nerves these days.

He managed, for Molly’s sake. Or maybe for Sarah’s. He knew well enough what she thought of the situation.

For just an instant he saw her face the way it had been in the moment he’d said her opinion mattered to him ... soft, surprised, wide-eyed.

What he’d said had been true enough, but he’d never intended to let it out of his mouth. What had possessed him to say that? He must be crazy.

Molly was chattering away about all the buggies turning in at Emma’s, and he managed, he hoped, to sound normal as he answered and joined the procession up the lane to the house. When they reached the back door, several teenage boys, laughing and jostling each other, were waiting to take care of the horses. Without a word, Benjamin jumped out and joined them.

Well, maybe that was for the best. Trying to keep the boy by his side would be futile. The worst that could happen today was some horseplay that accompanied the horse tending, especially on a day like this. Even as he assisted Molly up the steps to the porch he saw a snowball fly through the air.

The house was as crowded as he’d expected, judging from the number of buggies outside. People flowed through the dining room, where food constantly appeared as each person arrived, to the living room, where Emma sat in a rocker, Jonas standing by her side. The doors to the two new rooms stood open, accommodating the overflow.

The line moved slowly toward Emma, and he had a moment of panic. Could he really congratulate Emma on her years of service to the community?

He spotted Louise’s parents ahead of them, but Louise was not in sight.

“Maybe I should go check on Benjamin,” he muttered.

Molly clasped his arm in an unyielding grip. “You’ll do no such thing. He’s not a four-year-old, Aaron. Leave him alone.”

“I wish he were still four. He was easier to handle then.”

“Only because you have so much trouble letting him grow up.” Molly gave him a direct look that reminded him of Mammi. “He is growing up, Aaron, like it or not. It’s time to let him do so.”

He was saved the trouble of answering by the approach of Sarah and Jonas’s wife, who were working their way down the line, greeting newcomers, urging people to eat. He could hear Sarah answering someone’s question about the new rooms, explaining their purpose, praising him for the fine work he’d done on them.

She meant well, but he’d just as soon not be linked in everyone’s mind with the birthing rooms. Too late for that now.

Gideon, Rachel’s husband, worked his way free of a cluster of women who seemed to be discussing childbirth. He gripped Aaron’s arm with a look of relief.

“Aaron, just the person I need. I’ve left some cases of soda on the back porch to stay cold, but Rachel is insisting they be brought in, along with glasses she thinks they stored in the pantry. Can you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing.” Glancing past Gideon, he spotted Rachel in the dining room, directing her helpers as they arranged food and replenished trays. “Never argue with a woman who’s on a mission.”

“Ach, you’re right about that.” Gideon led the way through the crowd to the kitchen. “Rachel’s the sweetest-tempered woman in the world, but when she’s in charge of something, you’d best hop to.”

Aaron managed to suppress a laugh. Everyone knew how happy Rachel and Gideon were, having found love so unexpectedly after the loss of their first loves. The new baby would just round out their joy.

The kitchen, thankfully, was free of people at the moment. Gid gestured vaguely toward the porch. “If you’ll get the soda, I’ll search for the glasses.”

Aaron headed for the back door as Gideon vanished around the corner into the pantry. Maybe the shock of cold air would get rid of the feelings that roiled inside him.

The cases of soda were stacked against the wall of the house. He picked up two and backed into the kitchen, letting the door swing shut.

“How many do you want, Gideon?”

“I’m not Gideon, but I’d say that’s probably enough,” Sarah said.

He turned slowly, trying not to betray any emotion at all when he looked at her and knowing that was probably useless. Sarah seemed able to see right through him.

“Sarah. There’s a wonderful-gut turnout today, for sure.”

“Ja.” Sarah’s expression bloomed with a smile so warm it would surely melt the snow outside. “Aunt Emma is so happy. She never suspected a thing, and she was just overwhelmed when people started arriving. It’s such a tribute to her work.”

That was the last thing he wanted to talk about. “How was your Christmas Day? You and Emma went to Jonas’s house, ja?”

She nodded, face clouding a little. “It was lovely to observe the day with them.”

“But—”

She smiled ruefully. “Ach, all right. Ja, Jonas tried to persuade his mother to move in with them and sell this house.”

“And what did Emma say to that?”

“That she would think on it.” Sarah gazed at the kitchen wall, but he knew she was seeing what lay beyond—the two new birthing rooms that seemed to represent a fresh start for her.

“If Emma did sell . . .” The thought hit him and wouldn’t let go. If Emma sold out, Sarah might give up her practice. She’d be free to do anything, including marry again.

“Ach, nothing is going to happen very soon.” Sarah made an obvious effort to shake off her concerns. “Don’t worry. We’ll still be here when Molly has her baby.”

“Ja.” He wouldn’t pretend to be happy with the arrangements.

“The telephone goes in this coming week. By the time Molly goes into labor, it will only be steps away.” She came closer to him, putting her hand on his arm as she looked up in his face. He seemed to feel that touch through every cell of his body. “Aaron, I promise you, at the least sign of trouble, I’ll call the paramedics. They can be here in minutes.”

His muscles froze. Sarah snatched her hand away as if she felt it.

“Help would be closer than that if she would just go to the hospital to have this baby.”

“That isn’t the birth Molly wants,” she reminded him.

“You don’t need to tell me that.” He bit back any other words that might spill out. Just a moment ago he’d been indulging in ridiculous daydreams. Thinking that if Emma sold the house, Sarah might be free to give up her practice. Free to marry again.

He knew what he was really thinking. That this was a woman he could love, except for the one thing she’d never give up.

“Excuse me.” He turned, groping for the door handle. “I’ll . . . I should bring in some more of the soda.” He slid out, closing the door behind him, and took a deep breath of cold air. It didn’t help. Maybe nothing would.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

S
arah
stood there for a long moment after Aaron went out, fists clenched, breath ragged. There was too much between them, and at the same time, not enough.

Feelings—they had plenty of those. She knew she wasn’t imagining that Aaron felt something for her. Unfortunately, those feelings were all tangled up with his pain over the way his mother died.

She bit her lip. If only she could tell him the story Aunt Emma had told her. Her aunt hadn’t asked her to keep silent, but even so, how could she? Aunt Emma, those nameless others in the church who’d known about what his father had done . . . they’d all agreed it was best that Aaron and his siblings be protected from that knowledge. She couldn’t go against their wisdom.

“Aaron?” Gideon pushed through the door and looked around. “I thought Aaron was in here.”

“He went out . . . I think he went outside to get something. I must see if Rachel needs any help.” She hurried into the front of the house, not wanting to see the curiosity in Gideon’s face.

“Denke.” Aunt Emma was standing in the middle of the living room, everyone silent around her. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “You are all so gut to komm here today. You have made me feel wonderful gut about the years I have spent with you.”

Sarah’s breath caught. Those words almost sounded like a prelude to Aunt Emma saying she was leaving.

But she didn’t. She thanked the community, she glanced around the room, naming those at whose births she had assisted, and she made more than one person wipe away a tear. But she didn’t say that she was leaving.

Still, the worry wasn’t over. Sooner or later Aunt Emma would want to make a change. Ideally, by then Sarah would be in a position to buy the house from her, maybe even to bring in another midwife to assist her. But how soon would that be?

Someone spoke to her, and she wiped her worries away so that she could nod and smile and urge people to eat. There would be time enough later to think about the future. Maybe, after today, Aunt Emma would be ready to talk about what that might hold.

Sarah was urging a big serving of peaches-and-cream cake on Bishop Mose when she heard a vaguely familiar voice behind her.

“I don’t know where Louise has gotten to. I thought she was with her sisters.”

Sarah turned to catch a glimpse of Louise Buckholtz’s mother, looking fretfully around the crowded rooms. After her daughter’s plunge into the icy pond, Louise’s mother was probably more than a little cautious about her.

“Ach, she’s here somewhere,” her husband responded. “We’ll find her when it’s time to leave.”

A trickle of worry ran along Sarah’s skin. Louise was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Benjamin, and the other boys who’d been helping outside had come in to get warmed up. Besides that, Aaron hadn’t reappeared.

Sarah worked her way through the crowd to the kitchen. The ones she wanted weren’t there, either, but a cluster of teenagers had gathered around the table, talking and laughing. They looked up when she entered.

“Does anyone know where Louise Buckholtz is? Her mother is looking for her.”

Silence, but a few looks were exchanged. She understood. They didn’t want to tell on one of their own. Well, she wouldn’t force the issue. Louise and Benjamin weren’t in the house. That meant they were either snuggling in one of the empty buggies or in the stable.

She went quickly to the back hall and took down a thick shawl. Louise and Benjamin’s behavior wasn’t her concern, as she was sure Aaron would be quick to point out to her. Still, she’d felt a bond with the two of them since the incident at the pond.

Outside, she crossed to the long line of buggies and began walking along it, her feet making no noise on the soft snow. She saw no one, and the snow, falling more rapidly now, seemed to blanket any sound.

She’d nearly reached the end of the row when she heard voices, coming not from one of the buggies but from the structure beyond. Apprehension building, she went quickly through ankle-deep snow to the barn. The door was shoved back a foot or so. The voice she heard was Aaron’s, and it was angry.

She pushed the door farther, its scrape interrupting his words, and stepped inside.

It was fairly evident that Aaron had burst in upon Louise and Benjamin. They had probably been snuggling on that conveniently placed hay bale, smooching to judge by Louise’s flushed cheeks.

“Louise, there you are.” Sarah forced her voice to a calm cheerfulness that she didn’t feel, not daring to look at Aaron as she crossed to the girl. “Your mamm is looking for you. Maybe you’d best go and see what she wants.”

She put her arm around the girl’s waist, urging her toward the door, afraid Louise was about to make the situation worse by being defiant. But Louise was obviously upset and embarrassed, and she clasped Sarah’s hand gratefully.

“Denke, Sarah. You are right. I should go to my mamm.” She dared a look at Benjamin. “I will see you later, Benj.”

Benjamin didn’t bother to reply. His fists were clenched against his sides, and he was glaring at his brother. The two of them wore such similar expressions that it would have been laughable if they weren’t both so on edge.

Sarah saw the girl out the door and paused. She’d give a lot to go with Louise and let the Miller brothers fight this out for themselves. But the thought of Molly stopped her. At this stage of her pregnancy, the last thing Molly needed was more family stress. For her sake, if not theirs, Sarah would have to try to intervene.

She’d never be able to move Aaron, but Benjamin might be an easier proposition. She went to him, taking his arm in a grip he couldn’t ignore.

“Komm, Benjamin. All the helpers have gone inside to eat before getting busy again when folks start to leave.”

He drew back against her grasp. “My brother and I—”

“Can talk later,” she finished for him. “The way it’s snowing, there’s not much time before everyone will decide to head for home. Komm, you’re needed.”

He held out against her for another moment. Then he gave a quick nod and strode out of the barn.

Now for Aaron.

Please, Lord, let me say the right thing to him.

She turned to face Aaron, meeting a look so thunderous that it made her quake inside.

“I suppose you had a reason for interfering in family business that doesn’t concern you.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“My reason is to keep you from making a mountain out of a molehill,” she said, with a briskness she didn’t know she owned. “Those two will do nothing more than steal a kiss or two, like any teenagers, unless you convince them otherwise.”

“
Me
convince
them
.” He took a stride toward her so that he loomed over her, his face dark with anger. “Don’t you mean you? You’re the one who acted as if their behavior was perfectly natural, sneaking out here alone together.”

“Komm, Aaron.” She fought to keep her voice light. “All of us did the same when we were that age and fancied ourselves in love. And if no one started making us feel like star-crossed lovers, we quickly found out the truth for ourselves.”

“I’m afraid I was too busy taking care of my brothers and sister to do any such thing when I was that age.”

The words were a reminder of what lay between them. She fought the longing to tell him the truth about what had happened when Benjamin was born. But if it were to be done, it couldn’t be like this, blurted out because he was angry with her.

“Most of us did. That’s what rumspringa is for, figuring out who you’re meant to be with for the rest of your life.” The thought of Levi made her heart wince, but she went steadily on. “My daad always says his beard went completely white when the three of us hit rumspringa within two years of each other. But whatever he felt, he managed to make us believe that he trusted us. And we felt we had to live up to that trust.”

Aaron shook his head, frowning, like a horse shaking off flies. “How can I trust Benjamin when he does something like this, sneaking off with a girl? Should I just act as if it’s nothing?”

“No, of course not. You should talk to him calmly, not when you’re angry. Help him to see that he must protect Louise by not giving anyone cause to gossip about her. He will respond when he knows you trust him.” She prayed she was right, for all their sakes.

“Will he?” The anger faded slowly from his face, leaving concern and worry in its place. “Once he was the little bruder I loved and protected. But as he grew, it seemed a gap came between us. Now—now I just don’t seem to know him.”

She couldn’t help responding to the lost note in his deep voice. She put her hand on his arm, longing to comfort him. “One thing I know for certain sure is that making Benjamin feel you don’t trust him could push him straight into the thing you fear.”

Aaron took a breath so deep it made his chest heave. “You make it sound easy. Trust him. But it seems every time I speak to him he flares up at me.”

He looked down, seemed to realize she was touching him, and put his hand over hers. His was warm and hard from the work he did, but gentle, too. Her breath caught.

“You . . . You have to try.” Just as she had to try to gather her scrambled thoughts. “Maybe, when you look at him, you could picture that little bruder who tagged along after you. Don’t tell me he didn’t, because I wouldn’t believe it.”

“Ach, those were the times when he thought his big brother could do no wrong. They are gone, I think.”

At least he wasn’t angry anymore. But he was holding her hand with such tenderness and speaking so softly that her foolish heart was tumbling over itself.

“Just try, Aaron. For Molly’s sake, as well. She’ll do better if she’s not worrying about the two of you, ain’t so?”

“How is it you understand my family so well, Sarah?” His fingers tightened on hers, and she looked up to find his face very close. “How is it you understand me?”

“I . . . I don’t . . .” Whatever words she might say were lost in the intensity of his gaze, and her heart swelled until she thought it would burst. Aaron’s eyes darkened. A pulse beat at his temple. And then he lowered his head and kissed her.

The world narrowed to the strong circle of his arms. All she could hear was the steady beat of his heart against her palm on his chest. She couldn’t feel the chill of the air for the warmth that flowed from him.

Then he pulled back, taking a quick step away from her. He looked . . . confused, as if he didn’t quite know what had just happened.

“I shouldn’t—” He stopped, shook his head, started again. “I’m sorry.” He smiled a little, lifting his hand to run his fingers along her cheek in a feather-light caress. “I can’t chide Benjamin for smooching in the barn when I’m doing the same thing, can I?”

She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Thank goodness Aaron didn’t seem to expect anything. He just cupped his hand under her elbow and led her toward the door.

Aaron
propped the latest copy of the Amish weekly newspaper up in front of him and leaned back in his chair, feigning a relaxation he didn’t feel. Molly didn’t seem to notice, in any event. She sat across from him in the rocking chair, sewing at some tiny baby garment, a soft, secret smile on her face. The old house was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of her rocking and the crackle of the fire he’d started in the fireplace when they got home.

He tried to concentrate on the printed page and failed completely. The events of the day were too powerful to shut out. He could pull a book from the bookcase at his elbow, but he probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate on that, either, even though some of those books were like old friends.

Benjamin had stayed out of his sight since that encounter in the stable, which was just as well. Aaron needed time to think before he talked to the boy.

And he needed to avoid thinking about what had happened between him and Sarah.

“Well?” Molly said. “You might as well put down that newspaper and stop pretending you’re reading it. Talk to me about it, whatever it is.”

He took his time folding the paper and putting it into the basket beside his chair. But Molly still looked at him, eyebrows arched, face questioning.

“How do you know something happened? Did Benjamin come to you about it?” He couldn’t help the way his voice sharpened on the question. If the boy was trying to drag Molly in between them—

“Ach, how could I not guess? Benjamin and Louise disappeared from view, then you and Sarah. And then Louise comes back in looking like a scalded cat.”

“I’m sorry about that.” His fingers tightened on the arms of the chair. “Sarah tried to treat her as if everything was fine, but Louise was upset.” He had upset the girl—that was the truth of the matter.

His reaction to finding them together had clouded his common sense. He’d been fortunate that Sarah had come in when she had, though he hadn’t appreciated that at the time.

“Well?” Molly’s foot tapped. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?”

“Just what you thought happened. Benjamin and Louise had sneaked away from the rest of the kids. They were smooching in the barn when I found them.”

“Well, at least he had sense enough to meet her someplace out of the cold,” Molly said.

Aaron glared at her. “He shouldn’t have been meeting her anyplace. Don’t tell me you condone sneaking around.”

Molly considered that, head tilted. “No, I don’t, but I’m not exactly surprised. They’re young, and they fancy themselves in love.”

Aaron shifted his gaze away from her. “You sound like Sarah. That’s just about what she said.”

“I thought Sarah figured into this story someplace. What did she do?”

“She came in on us before I had a chance to say much.” He blew out a breath. “All right, I admit it. That was gut, because she kept me from saying all the wrong things. She talked to Louise as if nothing was wrong, saying her mother was looking for her.”

“That was clever of her,” Molly said. “If you’d had your way, you’d probably have reduced the girl to tears, and then where would we be?”

She was right, little though he wanted to admit it. “Maybe Louise should be doing a bit of crying,” he muttered.