A Marriage of the Heart (39 page)

“Joseph,” Abby murmured under her breath, “I don’t think Mrs. Knepp likes me very much.”

“What?”

“No, I’m serious. Even though she gave us the quilt and wished us well, I bet she still remembers the time I was a little girl and pulled all of her tulips up by their roots when they were just blooming.”

He laughed and turned his head with interest. “Why would you do that?”

“I thought I was saving them from being cut, so I took them home and put them in water—dirt, roots, and all. My father was so mad at me. And Mrs. Knepp’s face was as red as a beet when she found out it was me.”

“What did the doctor say?” he asked.

“He laughed, as usual,” Abby answered.

Joseph smiled. “I’m sure she’s forgiven you.” He took Abby’s hand and helped her down, and they both went to the door.

Joseph knocked on the door, and Mrs. Knepp opened it. Abby ducked her head as if she were still carrying tulip stains on her cloak, but the older woman greeted them both with a broad smile.

“Come in, come in. I’m so glad to see you both. It’s chilly out today, and I’ve got a fresh baking of gingerbread that I just took out of the oven. The doctor is here too. He just returned from delivering twins and is a bit testy from being up half the night.”

“Oh,” Abby said. “Maybe we should come back another time.”

Mrs. Knepp shook her head. “There is no ‘better time’ in a doctor’s life, my dear. Just come right in and make yourselves at home.”

With Abby at his heels, Joseph followed the smell of gingerbread, and they soon were sitting around the kitchen table sharing coffee and gingerbread with fresh whipped cream.

The doctor talked with Joseph about crops and the weather, then Mrs. Knepp invited Abby to come into the sitting room for their own conversation.

Joseph noticed that Abby was hesitant to leave him, but Mrs. Knepp pressed a kind hand on his shoulder.

“No, no,” she said. “You menfolk stay here while Abigail and I have a woman-to-woman talk.”

The doctor laughed. “You go on. Joseph and I will have seconds on the gingerbread.”

A
BIGAIL FOLLOWED
M
RS
. K
NEPP INTO THE COMFORTABLE
sitting room. A fire burned with cheerful vigor at the hearth, while comfortable chairs covered with bright afghans and quilts dotted the room. It was not the room of a rich man, as Abigail knew the doctor most certainly could be, but rather the room of a true home.

“I’d like my house to look like this,” Abigail said.

Mrs. Knepp smiled. “Yes, I’ve always found that comfortable
and neat does just as well as fancy and frilly. But, please, let’s sit down and talk. I’d like you to tell me the truth, and I give you my word that it won’t be repeated to anyone else. How is it going with you two? The doctor told me that Joseph had shared his past with you. That’s a big thing for a new wife to swallow. Are you all right?”

Abigail nodded. “
Ya
. We really have spent time talking about it and how both of us need to lean on the Lord for support to get through life. I don’t mean just looking ahead long-term, but day-to-day living. Or maybe hour-to-hour living.”

Mrs. Knepp gave Abigail a warm smile. She reached out and patted Abigail’s hand. “I still remember the tulips, you know.”

Abigail blushed. “I just told Joseph about that on the way here. I wish I could take that back. They were so beautiful.”

“You were so impulsive, but I wish that I could take back my anger at a little girl who just thought she was doing the right thing. I want you to know that I sense a change in you . . . a calmness of spirit and peace that was not there before. I also want to tell you that I’ve prayed for you often.”

Abigail bit her lip. “Thank you so much. You don’t know what it means to me to have the praise of another woman, especially one that I admire.” She smiled. “I actually came today to invite you to attend my wedding quilting. I’ve only asked a few women. The truth is that I haven’t spent much time trying to make friends with the women of our community.”

Mrs. Knepp smiled. “But you have all the time in the world to do that now.”

“I know. I just wish I’d known it sooner.”

As they said their good-byes, Mrs. Knepp pressed a small package into her hands. “Just a little something, my dear, to help with Saturday.”

Abigail climbed into the buggy and started to unwrap the gift.

“What is it?” Joseph asked.

Abigail sat and stared at the contents of the package. It was a beautiful case of quilting needles, some with golden eyes, and a bright silver needle threader. “Oh, they’re so beautiful.”

Joseph cast an eye over the small gift. “If you say so. They look sharp to me, and I can just see one of the ladies pricking her finger and getting blood all over the quilt.”

“Do you have to be so positive?” Abigail asked.

Joseph laughed. “Well, I try.”

She sighed. “On a more serious note, there is one more woman I would like to invite to the quilting, but I don’t have time to deliver a personal invitation.”

“Who is it? We still have half the afternoon.”

“Your sister,” she said in a quiet voice. “But I know she’s too far away.”

“Oh . . . that’s really nice. She’d love it. I told you that she is an artist, and she’d think quilting with a bunch of Amish women would be just the height of modern art.” He pressed her hand. “Thank you for thinking of her.”

Abigail nodded and held her new needles in a tight grasp.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

J
OSEPH TOOK
A
BBY’S HOPE OF INVITING HIS SISTER TO
heart and stole away in the dark of night to put a call in to New York. Angel said she’d be on a plane Friday night.

“But I don’t have any way to pick you up at the airport. The horse just will not do.”

She’d laughed, his own laugh, many gentle tones lighter. “You forget that I’m a New Yorker and pretty resourceful, Joe. I’ll be there, but don’t tell her. Okay?”

He’d agreed and was glad he’d made it back to the master bedroom in time for a cuddle with Abby. It was gradually becoming a regular thing, this touching of her skin to his. One hand against him here, one knee drawn up in sleeper’s balance, her cheek resting against his shoulder. It was enough to both lull his sensibilities and make him want to scream at the same time.

T
HE MORNING OF THE QUILTING DAWNED BRIGHT AND CLEAR
but ice cold. A fine frost covered the fields, making enchanted things of the barren trees and the stray bent plants. Abigail was excited as she looked out the window. She’d never been the hostess of a social gathering before and wasn’t entirely sure of what was expected of her, but she would make a good try at it. Joseph and her father had already left, the buggy tracks on the driveway proof of their eagerness to get away before any of the invited females showed up.

Joseph had kissed her, though, and wished her well. “I’ll pray for you,” he’d whispered. “That you will have a fulfilling and peaceful time with your friends.”

She clung to that prayer as the first buggy arrived and she saw the ladies from Yoder’s all pile out in a ridiculous number from behind one horse. She wondered how they had managed to fit, especially when they came bearing baskets and boxes and bags bulging with supplies. She opened the door, and George the cat skittered outside.

Judith was the first to enter and gave Abigail a big hug. “Thank you, Abby, for having us. It’s a good, cold day to stay warm and happy inside.”

Abigail tried to help the older woman with her packages, but Judith waved her away. “No, honey. You just go on ahead and greet your guests. I’ll take care of all our stuff.”

Abigail hugged each woman from Yoder’s in turn, ending with Tillie, who had a broad smile on her face.

“We brought just about everything you could think of for your pantry, Abby. And we’ll have your quilt finished in no time.”

Abigail wanted to cry, but laughed instead. She felt so overwhelmed by the generosity and love that filled the room. She watched as Judith and Ruth made short work of filling the shelves of her pantry and was amazed at the canning jars full of bright colors. Yellow peaches and corn and squash, red tomatoes and jellies and preserves, green beans and peas and bread-and-butter pickles . . . The baskets kept producing. Soon she had a more than an adequately stuffed provision of stores for the coming winter.

“There,” Judith said with a smile. “Next year we’ll come again at canning time and help you do all of this work, so you can know what you’re about.”

Ruth interjected, “I say we come in the spring when it’s time to order seeds, so she’ll know what to plant in the kitchen garden.”

A knock interrupted the conversation, and Abigail went to
greet Katie and Mrs. Knepp. They both bore baskets, which turned out to be full of spices of every kind.

“You’ll have the best-stocked medicine closet in the district, next to the doctor’s,” Mrs. Knepp declared once she’d finished putting up her gifts. “And you’ll need it, if Joseph keeps insisting on trying to ride wild horses!”

They all laughed together, and Abigail felt the warm camaraderie and power of what a group of women could accomplish together if they set their minds to it. A year ago, stocking a pantry would have been something she would have disdained. Now she saw it as the result of tremendous work and an accomplishment to protect and provide for those you love.

The ladies had just settled around the quilting frame when the sound of a motor vehicle barreling down the lane reached them inside.

“What in the world?” Abigail asked as she rose from her place and hurried to look out the window. Her first thought was that Joseph had been hurt again somehow, but then she saw a slender
Englisch
girl hop out from the passenger side and wave the driver away. The girl began walking toward the porch, a bright patchwork bag swinging jauntily over her shoulder and her long black hair blowing in the wind. Abigail’s heart caught, and her eyes filled with tears. There was no mistaking her identity; she was so much a delicate version of her husband.

Abigail ran to the door and flung it wide just as the girl had the screen door open to knock.

“Abby?”

“
Ya
, I mean, yes . . . and you’re . . .”

“Angel, Joe’s sister. I hope it’s all right . . . He called me the other night and said that you wanted—”

Abigail half sobbed and threw her arms about the girl. All of the usual reserve and uncertainty were gone as she hugged her new sister-in-law, who returned the embrace with enthusiasm.

“Come in,” Abigail sniffed. “Please come in. I’m sorry I’m so emotional . . . It’s just that you look so much like Joseph.”

Angel rolled her dark eyes. “I know. It’s always been that way. And I have to say that Joe was right—you are one beautiful girl!”

Abigail smiled and caught her hand. “Come and meet my friends. Everyone, this is Joseph’s sister, Angel, from New York. She came just for the quilting. She’s an art student.”

Judith moved over a space and patted the empty chair beside her. “Sit down here, honey, and tell us about yourself. Your brother’s become a hero around these parts lately.”

Angel smiled. “He’s never been one to look before he leaps . . . except, I bet, when he married Abby . . . I bet he did a whole lot of looking then.”

They all laughed, and Abigail thanked God that here was someone new and wonderful who was willing to love her and her family. It was almost more than she could bear.

And later, when the remaining three stars had been quilted, the women stopped to admire each other’s handiwork. The stitches were marvelous in their uniformity and precision, and Abigail felt a warm glow inside as she surveyed them. She’d used her mother’s thimble throughout the quilting and knew a rippling sense of peace that the woman lost to her long ago had still been a part of the day.

Then she served the teaberry cookies and hot tea. They all talked and laughed, and Angel fit right in, sharing stories from New York and listening with obvious, deep interest to the life tales of the women around her. And Abigail felt encircled by love and laughter that melted away all the vestiges of uncertainty in her heart about herself as a person and becoming a wife in truth.

J
OSEPH TILTED HIS ROOT BEER BOTTLE BACK AND LET THE
rich sweetness slide down his throat. He was playing checkers
with his father-in-law in a little country store, and they’d attracted quite an interest from the Amish men looking on. Joseph was an expert at checkers but decided early on in the game that it wouldn’t be quite right to beat this particular opponent, so he let himself slip on a last move.

“Aha!” Solomon cheered, taking his king. And the other men murmured in approval. Soon Joseph and Solomon were back in the buggy, shivering a bit against the cold.

“You think we can go back now?” Joseph asked and was surprised when the usually taciturn man laughed out loud.

He still found it hard to match the renewed good humor of his father-in-law with the stoic man he’d worked with all fall.

“
Ya
, we can go back, in time for a cookie or two. I bet they’re about finished now except for the talking, and that will never be finished.”