An Amish Christmas Quilt (19 page)

A PERFECT AMISH CHRISTMAS

J
ENNIFER
B
ECKSTRAND

C
HAPTER
1

“Our grandson Gideon is going to Mexico, and we've got to stop him,” Anna Helmuth said as she tied a bright red ribbon around a jar of huckleberry jelly.

Felty, her husband of sixty-three years, shoved a log into the cookstove. “Why would we want to stop him? Mexico sounds mighty nice this time of year.”

“Not as nice as spending Christmas in Bonduel with Dorothy Schrock.”

“I might agree if I knew who Dorothy Schrock was,” Felty said, squinting at his wife as if trying to make sense of what she was hinting at.

“Now, Felty. Dorothy lives not ten miles down the road.”

“These days I don't get much farther than down my own lane.”

Anna picked up another jelly jar. “She's that nice young lady who is cousins with Ada Stutzman, who is a cousin to Gideon.”

Felty stood up straight and scratched his head. “Wouldn't that make her our granddaughter?”

“Of course not, Felty dear. Gideon's
mamm
Abigail is our daughter, so Gideon is our grandson.”

“
Jah
, I know that.”

“Gideon is on Ada's
dat's
side and Dorothy is on Ada's
mamm
's side. Gideon and Ada are cousins, and Ada and Dorothy are cousins, but we're not related to Ada, and Gid isn't related to Dorothy.”

“
Gute
. For a minute I thought I'd forgotten one of our grandchildren,” Felty said.

A column of wrinkles appeared between Anna's eyebrows. “I'm starting to wonder about your memory, Felty. I'm helping Dorothy make a Christmas quilt for her
mamm.
She came to our house twice last week. You sat in your recliner and shot the breeze with her for twenty minutes.”

Felty scratched his head again. “Are you talking about Dottie?”

“Oh, thank goodness. I thought for a minute you were getting demented.”

“You can't blame me for being confused. I've never heard you call her Dorothy before. She's a nice girl. As busy as a beaver yet.”

Anna nodded vigorously. “So you see why we must convince Gideon to come to Bonduel instead of Mexico for Christmas.”

“
Why
do we want to convince our grandson to come to Bonduel?”

Anna smiled as if she was sharing a delightful secret. “He's got to marry Dottie Schrock, that's why.”

Felty finished loading his wood and closed the door to the firebox in the cookstove. “Annie-girl, you're not thinking of making another match, are you? You're already working on Tyler Yoder and Beth. One match at a time is enough, don't you think?”

Anna pinched the ribbon between the scissors blade and her thumb, sliding the dull blade the length of the ribbon and turning the ribbon into a bouncy curlicue. The jelly jars were to be sold at the Christmas bazaar next week. She held it out for Felty to see. “Isn't that charming?”

“Anna, you are the charmingest girl I know. But what about Dottie and Gid?”

“Oh, Felty. I'm so pleased that you're worried about them. What should we do about Dottie and Gid?”

“We don't have to do anything. Let Gideon go to Mexico in peace,” Felty said.

Anna scolded her husband with her eyes. “We most certainly will not. He and Dottie are perfect for each other.”

“I'm sure Gideon would be glad to know you're so concerned about his love life.”

“Just because our daughter and son-in-law are going to Mexico doesn't mean Abigail and Dan have to take Gid with them. Gideon wants to be here in Bonduel celebrating Christmas with his cousins,” Anna said.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Of course. He'd much rather be falling in love with Dottie than sitting on some muggy Mexico beach wishing for a white Christmas.”

Felty gave in. “I'm sure he would. But I don't know how you'll convince him of that.”

Anna tapped her finger to her lips, deep in thought before her face lit up like a jumbo-size propane lantern. “Felty, how would you like a new pair of snowshoes for Christmas?”

“I thought you were going to get me that manure spreader from the Sears catalog.”

“I've changed my mind.”

Felty stroked his horseshoe beard. “I ain't never been snowshoeing before.”

“Perfect. Gid won't be able to resist.”

“Resist what?” Felty said.

“You'll see. I'll write Abigail a letter immediately. They're leaving for Mexico in less than two weeks.” Anna's eyes twinkled with the delights of a thousand Christmases. “It's going to be a wonderful-
gute
holiday.”

Felty wrapped his arm around Anna's waist. “As long as I'm with you, Annie, it couldn't be anything but.”

C
HAPTER
2

Mamm gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.

“Bad news?” asked Gid, looking up from his breakfast and flinching in alarm at the expression on Mamm's face as she read her letter.

“
Ach, du lieva
, Gid! Your
mammi
is going to worry me into a heart condition yet.”

Dat didn't seem quite so concerned as he scooped another helping of hash browns onto his plate. “What's the matter, Abigail? Did your
mamm
accidentally give everyone in the district food poisoning again?”

Mamm arched an eyebrow and glared at Dat. “Oh, Daniel, of course not.”

“
Gute
. I don't think anyone at
gmay
will ever eat tripe stew again—as if they ever wanted to eat it in the first place.”

“So what happened with Mammi?” Gid asked. He had a soft spot for his lovable grandmother, who sent him mittens every winter and cooked bad-tasting food seasoned with plenty of affection.

“Of all the crazy things, she's buying your
dawdi
a pair of snowshoes for Christmas.”

“That doesn't sound like such a bad gift,” Dat said.

“It is if he actually tries to use them,” Mamm insisted. “Listen to this.” Her eyes found the troubling part of Mammi's letter. “
Felty will want to go exploring the minute he tries on his new snowshoes. I'm hoping he won't get lost in the woods or fall into a lake or some other such nonsense. I know I worry too much, but I'd feel so much better if Felty had someone like Gid watching out for him on his first snowshoeing trip. Gid camps and fishes and snowshoes all the time. He practically lives in the woods. What a wonderful-gute grandson he is. Tell him I'm sending a hug with this note.
” Mamm held out the letter and waved it toward Gid. “A lot of good a hug will do us if Dat breaks his neck.”

“Dawdi shouldn't take up snowshoeing,” Gid said. “He's eighty-five years old.”

Mamm smirked. “Oh, he thinks he can do anything.”

“Write to your
mamm
and tell her to get your dat a pair of slippers instead,” Dat said.

Mamm massaged that spot just above her right eyebrow where a headache was surely starting. “She wouldn't pay me any heed. She and Dat refuse to behave like old people.”

Gid took the letter and read the important parts. Mammi had sent him a hug, for goodness sake. A hug. Her affection tugged at his heart. He couldn't leave Dawdi at the mercy of a pair of snowshoes. “Maybe I should go to Bonduel for Christmas.”

Mamm sighed, and the tension seemed to slide off her shoulders. “Oh,
denki
, Gid. I'd feel so much better.”

“And forget about Mexico?” Dat said.

“Keeping Dawdi out of the hospital is more important than Mexico.” Gid glanced at Dat. “Unless you want me to be with you.”

Dat shoveled some scrambled eggs into this mouth. “It's just nasal surgery so I can breath better at night. The doctor says it should cure my sleep apnea. The surgery's routine and quick. Besides, your
mamm
will be there. I planned on you being at the beach most of the time anyway. Won't you feel bad missing the beach?”

Gid grunted dismissively. “Ice fishing is better than the beach.”

Mamm finally relaxed enough to take a sip of coffee. “You'll have to stay with Endie Elsie and Onkel Joe. Beth and little Toby are at Mammi and Dawdi's house.”

Gid smiled. “Even better. Junior and I can go snow caving.”

Mamm reached over and patted Gid on the cheek. “You're such a
gute
boy to give up your Christmas in Mexico.”

Gid shrugged off her praise. “It'll feel more like Christmas with the snow. I'll have a wonderful-
gute
time snowshoeing with Dawdi and caroling with Uncle Joe and Aunt Elsie. It may turn out to be the best Christmas ever.”

C
HAPTER
3

Did anyone truly appreciate how hard it was to fashion poinsettias out of frosting?

Dottie Schrock kept her hands steady as she put the finishing touches on the homemade cream puffs for her Christmas party. She took shallow breaths so not even the slight rise and fall of her chest would nudge her arms a fraction of an inch and possibly ruin her delectable creations. With a pastry bag of cherry-red frosting, she carefully piped five tiny petals in between each pair of green frosting leaves, creating a charming miniature poinsettia on the top of each cream puff.

Holding her breath, she squeezed out the last petal and stepped back to admire her work. She could already imagine the compliments and squeals of delight from her friends and her
mamm
when they saw her Christmas cream puffs.

Aunt Elsie came into the kitchen and slipped her arm around Dottie's shoulder. “The cream puffs look wonderful-
gute
. Everybody will want to look at them instead of eat them.” Gray streaked Aunt Elsie's chestnut hair, and the lines around her mouth indicated she'd spent much of her life smiling. Dottie wanted to be just like her someday.

Dottie did her best to think humble thoughts. The cream puffs did look delectable, but she shouldn't be proud. She had spent all this time on them because Mamm deserved the best Christmas ever. And Dottie was determined to see that everything down to the last leaf on the last poinsettia was perfect.

That's why she had carefully planned her Christmas party, handpicking twenty people to attend. Eight boys and eight girls, plus Mamm and Dat and Aunt Elsie and Uncle Joe. In her head, she'd already formed
die youngie
into couples. Not that anyone would necessarily couple up, but she had the perfect number of boys and girls in case they wanted to.

And there would be an even number of people to play Mamm's favorite Christmas game. The game would only work with an even number, and Dottie was determined to make it perfect for Mamm.

The party was only the beginning of what she had planned for Mamm's special Christmas holiday. Dottie had a few more stitches to put into the Christmas quilt she was making, and her siblings had been drilled on their parts for the family's Christmas Day program. Tomorrow she would bake stollen, a special holiday bread, and
lebkuchen
, and decorate the house with pine boughs and red ribbon—all the things Mamm used to do before she got sick. It would be the best Christmas the family had ever celebrated.

Dottie's cousin and best friend, Ada, came skipping into the kitchen like a seven-year-old and threw her arms around Aunt Elsie. “Mamm, did you see the veggie tray Dottie made? It looks like a wreath.”

“Does it now?”

“She trimmed the broccoli and formed the little trees in the shape of a circle and decorated the top with cherry tomatoes and jicama slices shaped like stars. It looks so festive.”

“Our Dottie never does anything halfway.”

Dottie squeezed the leftover frosting into a plastic dish and put it in the fridge. “I just want it to be nice for my
mamm
.”

Aunt Elsie gave her a squeeze. “Bless you for wanting to give her a happy Christmas. You're a wonderful-
gute
daughter.”

Ada reached out and dusted some flour from Dottie's cheek. “Your
mamm
will be so happy. How could anybody have a bad time with poinsettia cream puffs and bell-shaped Rice Krispies treats? She'll love all of it.”

“I hope so.” Dottie laid five cream puffs on a paper plate and set it aside. Tomorrow morning, she'd take them to her shut-in neighbor across the street.

“I'm glad you decided to have the party at our house,” Aunt Elsie said. “We have more room, and your mamm won't be tired out by a passel of guests at your house.”

“But you get all the mess,” Dottie said, giving her aunt a peck on the cheek. “
Denki
for hosting.”

“Anything for you, Dottie.”

“What else can I do to help?” Ada asked Dottie. “We've got one hour yet.”

“Will you check on the napkins? Junior folded them, but he's not always so careful.”

Dottie shut her mouth right quick as Junior strolled into the room. Junior was Ada's brother, younger by a year, and too big for his britches.

“I'm not always careful about what?”

“Everything,” Ada said.

When Dottie had informed him that he wouldn't be able to fold napkins properly, Junior had insisted on taking the task, rejecting help from anyone. If a girl could do it, then, he assured her, he could do it with his eyes closed. Three times Dottie had showed him how to pleat the middle of the napkin so it looked like a bowtie. He'd gotten all indignant about it, insisting he was capable of folding a few measly napkins. Then he had told her to go away and leave him alone while he folded. Sometimes that stubborn streak of his tried her patience something terrible.

“Did you do the napkins?” Dottie asked, trying to act as if she had all the confidence in the world that Junior had actually finished the task.

“
Jah
,” Junior said, his mouth twitching into a self-congratulatory smirk. “But the bow thing looked stupid, so I just folded them in half.”

Ada gasped and her mouth fell open. “Junior, that's not how Dottie wanted them done. You've ruined everything.”

Junior grunted at his sister as if she didn't even deserve a response.

Dottie took a deep breath and told herself to be patient. With few exceptions, nobody did things quite to her standards, and Junior's efforts were always well below her standards. She would hold her tongue. Hopefully, she could fix the napkins before the party started, but she must leave herself enough time to arrange the cookies into a charming star pattern on the plate. If she didn't, the cookies would look awfully plain sitting next to her tower of Rice Krispies treats.

Dottie did a quick intake of breath as Junior reached out to snatch one of her cream puffs. Ada slapped his hand away. “Not until the party, Junior. Can't you see how pretty the plate looks? You're going to ruin it. You're going to ruin everything.”

Junior held his hands out innocently. “Somebody needs to sample them. What if they taste bad? You don't want all the guests gagging at the party, do you?”

“They taste just fine,” Aunt Elsie said, taking Junior by the shoulders and steering him in the direction of the hallway. “Go make sure the sidewalk is shoveled. It's started to snow again.”

Junior grabbed a piece of chocolate from the bowl on the table as his mamm pushed him out of the kitchen. “The sidewalks are clear, and someone is at the door for Dottie.”

Ada threw up her hands. “And
when
were you going to tell us that? Three hours from now?”

“I just told you.”

“You've been shooting the breeze with us for five minutes,” Ada said. “Whoever is at the door is probably frozen to death.”

Aunt Elsie propped her hands on her hips. “Oy anyhow, Junior, sometimes I don't know where your head is.”

Junior popped the chocolate into his mouth and shrugged his shoulders, grinning unashamedly. “Right on top of my neck, where it's always been.”

Dottie took another deep breath. Junior loved to raise the hackles of the female members of his family. “It wonders me if I should go see to the door.”

“
Jah
, go,” Aunt Elsie said, waving her hands to hurry her along, “and apologize to our guest for Junior's rudeness.”

“Who is it, Junior?” Ada asked.

Junior pressed his lips together and his eyes flashed as if he were keeping a great secret. “You'll see.”

Dottie walked down the hallway to the front entryway and stopped in her tracks. Her stomach fell to her toes and shot back up again as if she were riding an unpleasant roller coaster.

Hat in hand, Gid Stutzman leaned against the doorjamb, his brow cocked and his mouth twisted into a wry grin. His loose brown curls fell across his forehead and his dark eyes flashed with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He should have received Ada's letter a week ago.

Dottie's stomach did a double back flip and three somersaults. It had been two years since she had seen Gideon Stutzman and he'd definitely grown up. His shoulders and arms had filled out nicely, and that square jaw and tan face made her heart flutter even as her stomach kept bouncing. But his appearance didn't matter. She'd always think of him as Junior's annoying teenage cousin who never stopped teasing her and made a point to make a pest of himself.

He'd sure enough received Ada's letter, because it dangled casually in his fingers like a used tissue. She swallowed hard. Oh, he was annoyed all right. And it was a good guess the letter had something to do with it.

“Dottie Schrock, I would have a word with you about this letter.”

Her stomach stopped its roller coaster ride and lodged in her throat. “I'm wonderful busy right now,” she managed to squeeze out.

He nodded. “Oh, I'm sure you are.” His other brow rose to meet the first one. “Getting ready for the party I'm not invited to.”

Dottie feigned innocence. Either that or die of embarrassment. She'd rather not pass away at the young age of twenty. How had Gid found out about the party? “What do you mean?”

“Hmm,” he said, studying her as if he were a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. He looked as if he wasn't about to let her get away with anything. “Let's see here.” He unfolded Ada's letter. “
Dear Gid, We are so happy you will be spending Christmas with us while your parents are in Mexico. Junior wants to go camping with you so you can show him how to make an ice cave.
And so on and so on,” he said, his gaze scrolling to the bottom of the page. “Ah, here it is.
It wonders me if you could postpone your arrival until Christmas Eve.
” He glanced at Dottie.

Her face felt hot, as if she'd been standing next to the roaring wood stove all afternoon. She resisted the urge to squirm and tried to look mildly interested even though she knew what came next. She'd helped Ada write the letter.

Gid kept reading. “
Dottie is sure we're going to be extra busy up until Christmas, and we don't want you to feel ignored. I hope you understand how busy we will be. We really think it's better if you don't come until Christmas Eve. Or maybe even Christmas Day. Love, Ada.
”

“It wondered me why Ada was so concerned about my arrival date.”

“You read that part. She was afraid you'd feel ignored. Everyone is too busy to entertain you.”

Gid's eyes flashed, and he looked as if he wanted to laugh. “
Jah
, I'm sure that was the first thought that came into my cousin's head when I told her I was coming.”

Gid was a cousin on the other side of Ada's family. Dottie was very glad that she and cocky Gid Stutzman were of no relation whatsoever.

He held the letter up like a stop sign. “When I saw your name in her letter, I got suspicious.”

Gid
would
get suspicious. He probably couldn't fathom why anyone wouldn't be eager to have him at her party. Any party. No doubt, he thought he was everybody's favorite. Dottie pursed her lips. Well, he was not her favorite.

“Ada and I are best friends. Are you saying she's never mentioned me in a letter before?”

Gid smirked. “When I got Ada's letter, I wrote to Junior. He told me that you were throwing a party on the very day I had planned on coming into town.”

Dottie resisted the urge to growl. Junior couldn't fold napkins, and he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. At the moment, he was not on her good list. Truth was, he never had been.

Gid narrowed his eyes and stared her down. “You don't want me at your party,” he said. The very idea seemed amusing to him.

Dottie thought she might suffocate with embarrassment. Though she hadn't seen him for two years, she remembered how blunt Gid could be, and his wide grin only made it worse.

Boys! Tilting her head back, she clamped her eyes shut and clenched her teeth. “Okay. You're right. I asked Ada to write and tell you to come a day later than planned.”

He seemed on the verge of laughing. “You wrote the letter for her, didn't you?”

“Maybe,” she grudgingly admitted, wondering if her face was as red as the poinsettia frosting.

Her admission pushed him over the edge. He threw back his head and laughed. “I thought so, Dottie Schrock.”

“Thank you so much for laughing at my humiliation.” He'd done it before. She didn't know why it irritated her now.

That brought him up short. For the first time since he'd arrived, he lost the aggravating smile. If she didn't know better, she'd think he almost looked contrite. “I'm not laughing at you. Honest.” His lips curved upward again as if he found it impossible to keep from grinning. “I'm laughing at how clever I was to figure it out.”

Dottie ground her teeth together until she thought they might crack. Gid was nothing if not arrogant. But the lack of an invitation to her party must have taken his confidence down a peg or two. She didn't want to feel smug about that, but she couldn't help herself.

She pasted a look of sympathy on her face. “You're upset that I didn't invite you to the party. I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings.”