Wedding Ring (19 page)

Helen wondered if Obed wanted to hurry the wedding so that their mother could be there to see it.

They filled their stomachs with sausage from the hog they’d slaughtered in the fall and hominy they’d grown themselves. Helen had made a breakfast cake studded with black walnuts, and every crumb was gone by the time they rose to open presents beside the tree.

There were fresh oranges for everyone, as well as fudge and Delilah’s peanut brittle. Tom had made Delilah a new cutting board for her kitchen and an identical one for Helen’s hope chest. Obed had bought both women small bottles of toilet water, honeysuckle for Delilah and apple blossom for Helen. Cuddy had found a new sink for the kitchen that drained into the yard so that they no longer had to haul the dishwater outside. Better yet, he promised to install it before the new year.

The men got new shirts from Helen, sewn from fabric she’d bargained for at the store with eggs and fresh milk. Delilah and Mavis had made each family member a small fruitcake rich with nuts and dried fruit.

“It’s a good Christmas,” Delilah said when the last gift had been presented. “We are rich in the ways that matter.”

Helen could feel that, too, that sense of having nearly everything she needed right here in this room and on this farm. But, for her, there was still one person missing. Fate Henry. And oddly enough, if she ever got to call Fate hers, he would take her away from her family.

They spent the rest of the morning doing only the most important chores; then Helen took to the kitchen again to help her mother finish preparing a feast centered around their very own country ham.

By the time she had cleaned up, family and neighbors began to arrive. They offered hot cider and roasted peanuts, and talked about the way the weather had warmed too much for a white Christmas. People came and went. Tom and Obed went off to visit friends, and Helen cleaned up after one group of guests just in time for a smaller group to arrive as twilight descended.

She had hoped that Fate might stop by, but he hadn’t said anything when he helped decorate the tree. She wished she had asked him to come, but she had been afraid it might scare him after her talk of the wedding ring quilt. He was a quiet man, and shy to boot, and she was afraid she might never know what he felt for her unless she asked him outright. But if she did that, he would surely run away for good.

She was just serving more hot cider when there were shouts outside and the ringing of bells. She thought she heard a horn blowing, then another followed by a shout.

“Pelsnickles! Pelsnickles!”

Delilah faced her daughter. “Well, I haven’t heard that for a year or two.”

Helen’s eyes were shining. “Somebody’s pelsing us!”

“Well, don’t just stand there talking about it. Go and let them in.”

“But the cider—”

“I’ll take care of everything. You just leave it to me, Lenny. Go on, now.”

Helen charged into the living room just in time to see her father heading for the door. Cuddy was a tall, thin man, but years of throwing feed sacks into the backs of wagons had roped his lean arms with muscle. If he didn’t want the pelsnicklers in his home, he could easily throw them out.

“Daddy, you’re going to let them in, aren’t you?” she demanded as he reached for the door.

Cuddy turned, and she saw he was grinning. “Why would I turn them away?”

“I thought maybe you was worried about Mama.”

“It’ll do her good. Never a Christmas passed without the pelsnicklers when she was a girl.” He threw open the door, and there, standing on the porch, were eight monstrous strangers. “Come on in,” he said, opening the door wider. “Just come on in this very minute.”

The monsters grunted as they made their way inside. “You know who we are?” one questioned in a deep voice.

“I might or I might not,” Cuddy said. “How about you, Helen?”

Helen stared. The men—although it was possible there were women among them—were dressed in old ragged clothes padded everywhere so they looked to be twice as big as they were. Their hands were covered by old work gloves, and their faces were masked. Some wore decorated feed sacks over their heads with slits where their eyes and mouths were. Some masks were fancier, like they might have been bought at a store. All of them wore hats pulled low over their heads.

She recognized Tom immediately and was careful not to smile at him. She knew his gloves and the old shirt that was now stuffed until it was likely to split along the seams. “Don’t know a one of them,” she said. “Not a single one.”

“Me either,” Cuddy said, although clearly he did. “Let’s have our guests figure this out. And your Mama, too.”

Aunt Mavis had arrived with the last batch of guests, and she stood when the pelsnicklers strolled in. “Well, will you look at this, Delilah? Never saw a handsomer bunch, except maybe when your Cuddy came pelsnickeling the Christmas before you married him.”

Delilah was seated, but her cheeks were flushed with excitement. “You’re welcome here,” she told the pelsnicklers. “We’ve got cider and candy, cake and nuts. You help yourself.”

Mavis cornered her niece as the new arrivals loaded up plates. “Did you put the boys up to this, Lenny?”

“I didn’t know a thing about it.”

“They used to come every year, groups of them all through New Year’s,” Mavis said. “Your mama and me were the best at guessing who they were. It wouldn’t have been Christmas without the pelsnicklers. Daddy always took them out back and gave them liquor. I suspect your daddy’ll do the same.”

Helen was sure he would. Making whiskey was a skill often employed in the hills above Fitch Crossing Road.

The pelsnickelers were getting rowdy, and although Delilah was laughing at their antics, she seemed to be gasping for air. Helen knew it was time to calm things down a little.

“I know who you are!” She pointed at one of the revelers who was smaller than the others. “Jacob Sommes, you take off your mask.”

The mask came off and it
was
Jacob, a friend of Obed’s, as she had predicted. There was laughter and much backslapping. Jacob shrugged and reached for another piece of peanut brittle.

The masks came off one by one as the boys were identified. Tom was one of the first to be caught, and Obed followed soon enough, until only three names hadn’t been guessed.

Helen moved closer. “Mama, do you know who this is?” she asked, pointing at one of them.

Delilah nodded. “I do.”

Helen was surprised, because she didn’t. “Who is it?”

“It’s the girl who’s going to be my new daughter someday.”

Helen felt a pang at the thought that anyone else could share that title. “Dorothy, you take off that mask,” she said.

The mask—complete with yarn whiskers and floppy calico ears—came off, and Dorothy laughed as everyone broke into applause.

“I couldn’t help it,” Dorothy said. “Obed made me do it.” She went to him, and he put his arm around her.

“Gus,” Helen said, pointing at the shorter of the remaining two, “take off your mask.”

“Aw heck, Lenny.” Gus Claiborne stripped off his mask, a fearsome looking thing with dried leaves and acorns glued to it.

Helen’s heart was beating too fast now. She was hoping she knew the identity of the last pelser. He was as round as a good potato, padded so thoroughly he could probably roll down a hill without injury. The mask was painted with black and white stripes, and the eyes were ringed with red. The mouth was painted blue and smiling.

“Go ahead, Lenny, guess,” Tom said.

“I think you’re Fate Henry,” she said, pointing right at his chest. “I think Fate Henry’s in that silly old costume somewhere.”

There was a moment when she thought she might be wrong, because he didn’t move. Then off came the mask, and she saw she’d been right.

Everybody laughed and applauded. In a moment everyone was in groups, talking, telling stories, eating and working on the cider she’d set out. But Fate was still facing her.

“You got time to go outside a minute?” he asked.

She looked at her mother and realized Delilah was watching them. Before she could ask, Delilah shooed her toward the door, then turned to say something to Cuddy. Cuddy began to corral the pelsers, and Helen knew what was coming next. Her father was going to take the boys outside and introduce them to the local moonshine. They would finish off the evening with firecrackers, the way they always finished Christmas Day.

“You’re going to miss the fun,” she told Fate. “Daddy’s taking the boys out back.”

“I’d rather be with you.”

Helen’s heart sped. “Let me get my coat. You got enough padding to keep you warm.”

“I’ll be out front.”

She met him there a few minutes later. She wondered how any man dressed as he was could still make her breath catch in her chest.

“How many houses you been to?” she asked, trying to be casual even though her tongue suddenly seemed too large for her mouth.

“Just a few. Obed, he wanted your mama to see us, on account of…” He looked away.

“On account of her being sick,” Helen said. She wasn’t yet ready to admit out loud that her mother was dying.

“Uh-huh. She liked it, didn’t she?”

“She liked it. She sure did.” Helen didn’t know what else to say. What did men and women say to each other? She could talk about chickens and cleaning house and how much starch to put in a Sunday shirt, but what else did she know about? What did Delilah say to Cuddy in their moments alone?

“You have a good Christmas?” he asked.

“I did. Was yours good, Fate? I wished, well, I wished you’d come over earlier. I was gonna ask you to, but I just didn’t know…”

“Know what?”

“Well, if you’d think I was being forward.”

He smiled, and just then the first firecracker went off out back. Helen hadn’t expected it, and she jumped, brushing against him.

Fate put his hands on her arms to steady her. “Took you by surprise, didn’t it?”

“It did. Now the chickens are going to be all mixed up for the rest of the evening, cackling and crowing and trying to get away.” She looked up at him just in time to see his mouth descending to hers.

Nobody had to tell her what to do. She just leaned closer and turned her face up to his. The pressure of his lips against hers stole her breath. Her eyelids closed, and her lips parted.

He stepped away at last. “That’s what I was hoping for to make my Christmas a good one,” he said.

“Fate…” She smiled. She was dazed and ecstatically happy.

“I got you something,” he said. “A present.”

Unexpectedly, she wanted to cry. She swallowed hard. “You didn’t have to. I didn’t think—”

“I know you didn’t, Helen. I never give you a reason to think much one way or the other, but it’s not that I didn’t want to. It’s just…”

“You don’t think you can afford a wife.”

He nodded. “But that’s gonna change. Open my present first, then I’ll tell you how.”

“Oh, you got to wait right there first. Can you wait?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She turned on her heel and hurried back into the house and up to her room. She joined him again, holding something behind her back. “Who goes first?”

“You go.”

She held out a pair of warm woolen socks she had knitted for him, hoping foolishly the entire time that she would be able to give them to him someday. “I made these from wool from Mrs. MacNamara’s sheep. She spun it herself. They’re real warm, and your boots never look warm enough to me.”

“You been paying attention to my boots?” he asked with a smile.

“I been paying attention to everything,” she admitted.

He held the socks against his cheek. “They sure are soft. I never had a pair this soft.”

She was so happy she didn’t know what to say.

“And now for you.” Fate reached inside his shirt and felt around. She giggled, watching him, and the sound surprised her. When had there been time in her life to learn such a thing?

He pulled out a roll wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. “Here it is.”

“Part of your costume?”

“Open and see.”

He handed her the package, but no matter how hard she tried, she was too excited to untie the knots. He helped her at last, standing close, with his arms around her.

She folded back the paper, and there inside were yards and yards of the blue fabric she had wanted for her quilt. The wedding ring quilt.

“I want you to finish it,” he said softly. “And I want you to think of me when you do.”

She turned in his arms, and her eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, Fate, it’s so much money. It cost so much.”

“I’d give you anything I can, Helen. I will—if you’ll let me.”

This time she kissed him. His arms came around her, and he pulled her against his silly padded chest with his silly padded arms. She thought nothing could have been more romantic.

“You’ll marry me?” he asked at last.

“Oh, you know I will!”

“You gotta know what I’ve got planned, though, Helen. You know there’s nothing for me here. And I don’t want to be a farmhand all my life.”