An Amish Christmas Quilt (13 page)

C
HAPTER
6

Laurel slipped back into Deborah Esch's kitchen and was met with loud gales of laughter from the other women that made her freeze in uncertainty
.
Had someone found out about her and Matthew? Her confusion was compounded when Deborah Esch came forward and bundled the heavy, completed Christmas-roses quilt into Laurel's arms.

“There!
Ach
, stop laughing at the poor girl. She looks as dazed as a rabbit in the lantern light.” Deborah hugged Laurel, quilt and all. “You see, my dear, we all decided that the next one to come through the kitchen door would deliver the quilt to Grossmuder May. Naturally, we expected it to be a man, but . . . here you are.”

“
Ach
.” Laurel smiled weakly, avoiding her
aenti
June's eyes.
“Jah
, here I am. And—and I'd be glad to take it up to Grossmuder May.

“Wunderbar
!” Deborah clapped. “I'll see your
aenti
and Lucy home safely. Can you manage the quilt up the mountain path?”

“
Jah
, it's only a bit of a ways. I'll be fine.”

Laurel caught a tighter hold on the quilt and set back out into the cold.

 

“You say Matthew went where?” John Beider stared down at his youngest
sohn
as they stood in the cold field. Perhaps the youngster was addled by the frigid air because he seemed to be stumbling over his answer when a look of relief suddenly suffused his small face.

“Here he comes now, Dat,” Simon squeaked.

Matthew came jogging across the snowy field.

“Where have you been,
sohn
?” John asked with a frown.

“Well, I started out for supplies, but look what I found on my way back.” Matthew opened his coat and revealed a tiny kitten, black with only a white spot on its small head. He closed his coat quickly against the chill.

“A kitten? At this time of year?” John mused aloud in disbelief.

“The mother cat and the other two kittens weren't so lucky. They'd frozen to death, but this little one held on somehow.”

“What are we going to do with it, Dat?” Simon asked in clear excitement, and John sighed.

 

“We're going,” Matthew asserted, “to find some girl's lap for it to warm. It would make a nice gift.”

Simon scowled. “Sure, it would.”

“Well, you know how your
mamm
's nose runs around cats. I don't know that we could manage it in the house,” Matthew's father said.

“Don't worry, Dat. I'll take it to . . . some little girl who'll give it a
gut
home. I won't be gone long.”

His
fater
nodded. “All right, but hurry. There's a storm brewing up on the mountain, I think. Likely to
kumme
in quick. Me and Simon'll head back home now in case.”

Matthew grinned and nodded, cuffing his little
bruder
on the shoulder and gaining a reluctant smile
. Laurel will love the kitten. I wonder if she'll repay the gift with more of her upside-down kissing?
The thought sent him crunching heavily through the snow even as the wind picked up.

 

Laurel struggled to find her footing along the snow-covered path that led uphill to Grossmuder May's cabin. It had started to snow in icy gusts and more than once, she nearly toppled over from the force of the wind and the weight of the quilt.

Finally, the cheery lights of the
auld
cabin glimmered through the darkening swirl and Laurel fell against the stout wooden door. It was opened so quickly from within that she collapsed against the wizened old woman, then steadied herself with a few gasping breaths.

“Laurel May Lapp, herself, indeed,” Grossmuder May said with strangely apparent satisfaction.
“Kumme
to visit in this fine weather, have you, child?”

Laurel shook her head and felt her wet bonnet sag backwards. “It wasn't like this when I started out.”

“
Nee, nee
. . . but you must learn that Ice Mountain is where Gott works His hand at the unexpected—in the weather, and in life.”

Laurel shook out the heavy folds of the beautiful quilt, not understanding too much of the old woman's sayings, but it was always that way. Grossmuder May had an attitude about her that was as mysterious as the mountains themselves and left Laurel feeling rather adrift. But she presented the quilt with her best smile.

“The women got together today, Grossmuder. It's Christmas-roses pattern. For you.”

“For me, hmmm?” The older woman laughed. “We shall see. Now,
kumme
have some tea by the fire, child.” She put her cane under her arm and piled the quilt on the wooden table to the side of the room.

Laurel glanced out the window to the snowy blur. “
Ach
, I'm sorry, but I must go home. My
fater
will worry.”

“He will worry more should you become lost in the storm, and Luke Lapp must learn that your mother's fate is not your own. Besides, it is not as bad down below, but
nee
, it is too dangerous for you to go.”

Laurel opened her lips to protest, but realized it would do no good and that there was reason in what the old woman said. So, she dropped tiredly into a chair by the open fire and took warm sips of the ginger tea that Grossmuder May had ready. Soon, Laurel began to relax despite the deepening roar of the storm outside.

 

Matthew saw the sliver of mellow light from inside the Lapps' barn door and knew that Laurel would be at her milking. He would never have risked coming so near the Lapp home but for the storm and the kitten, which had begun to cry piteously inside his coat. He slipped inside the barn and stood stock-still when he spotted the small form of Lucy Lapp, poised with a milk bucket near a calm cow.

“She's not here,” Lucy said quickly. “And you'd best hurry. My
dat
is coming out to check on me any minute.”

Matthew didn't stop to ponder the coincidence that both he and Laurel had told their siblings they were courting. “Where is Laurel?”

Lucy darted forward even as he opened his coat. She took the kitten in a matter-of-fact grasp and bent to dip her fingers in the steaming milk, offering it to the ravenous baby. “She's up the mountain at Grossmuder May's.”

“What?” Matthew exclaimed, feeling his heart began to pound with fear. “In this storm? I've got to get to her. She may not even have made it to the cabin. Why did she go?”

“To take the quilt. Now, hurry! And do be careful!”

Matthew slipped outside into the deepening gloom and realized that Luke Lapp stood on his porch, staring up at the mountaintop. Matthew caught his breath, then pressed hard against the barn, sliding along the far edge and out into the whirling snow

 

Luke eased quietly into the barn, not wanting to startle Lucy, but to his surprise, she knelt before the doors in the hay, feeding a young kitten milk with her small fingers.

“What are you doing, my child?”

“Feeding this poor kitten. Can we keep it, Daddi?

Luke felt his gaze trace the corners of the barn and passed a hand over his eyes, wondering if the kitten had simply materialized out of nowhere.
My mind is troubled over Laurel.... Dear Gott, let her be safe. Please, let her be safe.

He dropped to his knees in the hay and pulled Lucy close. “We must get you and the kitten both inside and out of this cold.
Kumme
.”

“Ach, danki,
Daddi
. Danki!”
Lucy's thin arms were flung around his neck and he breathed in the still baby-fresh scent of her hair.
Ach, Meg, if only you were here . . .

“I'll name the kitten Friend. What do you think of that?” Lucy chirped as he lifted her, kitten, and milk bucket high in his arms.

“
Gut
. That's
gut
.”

He opened the barn door with his hip and gasped at the dark snow. “Because Derr Herr is our friend, right, Daddi?” Lucy's high voice pierced the howl of the wind, and Luke looked down at his little girl.

“
Jah
,” he whispered, drawing her closer. “
Jah
.”

 

Matthew knew he wasn't dressed for such weather. It had begun to sleet, turning the snow into icy shards. His hands were nearly frozen in his pliable work gloves and he'd left his scarf hanging over the fence when he'd been working. But the thought of Laurel's safety prodded him onward and upward, even as he slipped and fell many a time. He wasn't even sure that he was going in the right direction and he started to pray when the faint glimmer of a kerosene lamp flashed nearly beside him. He stretched out his arms and ran smack into the side of Grossmuder May's remote cabin.
Another few feet and I would have missed it.... Thank Gott. Thank You, Gott. . . .

He found the door latch somehow and stumbled inward to collapse on the warmth of the hardwood floor.

“Matthew!” Laurel's voice was high with panic. He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn't seem to catch his breath, and the pull of wanting to sleep right there and then seemed to lure him.

“He's frozen through.” Grossmuder May's voice swirled somewhere above him. “We've got to get him warm. Help me, child.”

Matthew drifted into a pleasant lassitude until the shock of warm water on his hands and feet burned like sudden fire and he could find no refuge from the pain.

C
HAPTER
7

Luke Lapp stared out the window at the bleak weather, then slapped his hands down on the kitchen table in sudden decision. “I'm going after Laurel.”

“Are you
narrisch
?” his sister demanded, her hands on her hips, as she looked up from where Lucy cuddled the kitten in a box of flannels. “You know she made it to the cabin and is staying the night with Grossmuder May.”

But Luke caught the faint waver of uncertainty in June's voice. “I don't know that for sure.” He lowered his voice as Lucy gazed at him with a puckered brow. “And neither do you.” He cleared his throat. “Lucy, I think I'll take a bit of a jaunt up the mountain and check on your sister. You keep that kitten—I mean Friend—
gut
and warm, all right?”

“Will you be safe, Dat?” the child asked with concern.

“As Derr Herr wills, child.”

Lucy's mouth quivered. “But He willed it for Mommli not to be safe, didn't He?”

Luke wet his lips and avoided June's pointed gaze. “What Derr Herr wills is always
gut
, Lucy. It works out for good—someway, somehow.”

He drew a breath of relief when the little girl nodded, apparently satisfied, as she looked back down at the kitten. Then he strode past June to make his way to the bedroom to bundle up thick for the hard trek ahead.

 

John Beider paced the confines of the kitchen despite Ellie's pleas that he sit down and pray instead of worrying. Matthew had not returned and the storm had indeed come on quickly.

“John, most likely he's in town somewhere. Probably at the Kauffmanns' store, sitting around the stove and drinking coffee. Stop fretting.”

“I should go and look for him.”

His wife threw up her hands. “Go and look? In the middle of a blizzard?
Jah
, that would be wise.”

John noticed the quiver in her voice and realized she was worried too, but his going out would only trouble her more. He drew a steadying breath and reached to pat her shoulder.

“All right, Ellie. You've convinced me.” He glanced at Simon, who was idly poking at a checkers game. “I'll tell Simon a story while you get supper, and likely Matthew will be home when this all blows over.”

Ellie sniffed and nodded, and John silently bent his head to pray for a moment before joining Simon at the table.

 

The pain had eased somewhat, and Matthew was now conscious to the point of realizing that the torturous warm-water soaks had probably saved his fingers from frostbite. He gazed around the cabin's bedroom, then tried stretching in the big, down-filled bed, only to wince at the attempt. Then Laurel bustled in and even the weight of the heavy quilts piled atop him couldn't distract his mind from the knowledge that he was naked and that he'd had no hand in getting that way himself.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, reaching a cool hand to his brow.

Awkward . . . strange . . . yearning
. The words tussled in his brain until he could do nothing but give her a reassuring smile. She smiled back, then bent as if to kiss his mouth, and he tensed automatically.

“Laurel . . . I—I'm not dressed.”

The sudden flush on her pretty cheeks told him all he wanted to know about his lack of clothes and he closed his eyes with a groan.

“You were soaked, Matthew. I—I had no choice.” Her voice sounded forlorn and he opened his eyes to see the half-shamed expression on her face. He knew immediate regret at his foolish pride and stretched out a swollen hand to awkwardly pull her close.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“Do you think me wanton?”

He smiled. “
Jah
. . . wanton and brazen and perfect. In fact, I'd like to show you how much I appreciate your vices if I . . .”

“There'll be no showing of any kind,” Grossmuder May laughed from the doorway.

Matthew jerked even as Laurel jumped and the old woman laughed again. But then she sobered. “Laurel, come lift the bundling board down from the rafters. We haven't much time.”

“Bundling board?” Matthew exclaimed. He knew the old custom of his people of bundling among courting couples. It was when a couple would lie abed with each other, fully clothed, with a bundling board bolstered between them while they got to know each other. But, he was not fully clothed and how did Grossmuder May know they were courting anyway?

He opened his mouth to protest, wanting to save Laurel from further discomfiture, when Grossmuder May shushed him. “Enough thinking questions. He'll be here soon, and it must appear as though Laurel sleeps alone in the bed.”

“Who'll be here?” Matthew asked, confused by the woman's easy discernment of his thoughts.

Grossmuder May sighed as if annoyed by an obvious answer. “Laurel's
fater
, of course.”

 

Laurel froze in horror as she pulled the thin board down from amongst the dried herbs and onion ropes. “My—
fater
?”

“Jah,”
Grossmuder May answered easily. “Luke Lapp. Hurry on now.”

Laurel let the old woman slip the board from her fingertips and followed her back into the bedroom in a frantic daze.

“But what are we going to do? My
fater
will kill Matthew!”

Grossmuder May rolled her eyes. “Don't overdramatize, child. You and Matthew will bundle in the bed properly. I will tell your
fater
that you are asleep and need not be disturbed. I will sleep in my rocker by the fire and your
dat
will do the same in the opposite chair.”

“But . . .”

Grossmuder May held up a wrinkled hand for silence. “In the morning, you and your
fater
will leave first and then Matthew later. It's simple, really.” Laurel saw her cast a stern eye in Matthew's direction. “So long as you are quiet, all should be well.”

Laurel lifted her hands helplessly. “But how—why—do you know? Why do you help us?”

“I've got eyes, child, haven't I? Any man who'd risk losing his hands to this mountain is worth his salt and a fine match for you, no matter your
faters'
feuding. And moreover, I was young once myself.”

A rampant knocking at the cabin door sounded from the next room, and Grossmuder May calmly handed Laurel the bundling board. “Down the center of the bed, child. I'll get the door.”

She hobbled out and flung down the thin curtain that separated the bedroom from the front room and kitchen.

Laurel stared at Matthew in dismay as the rumble of her
fater's
voice seemed to fill the cabin with its power.