The Amish Heart of Ice Mountain (16 page)

She pressed her legs tighter together, and he dropped his hand to caress her belly and then lower. She sobbed with passion and instinctively knew what she wanted. She scrambled from him, despite his groan of protest, and let the remains of her gown fall to the floor. Then she bent and helped him work the hooks and eyes on his dark pants, just enough to reach him, heavy and hard. She changed her position, straddling him delicately, moving against him in frantic desperation. He helped her, and then she was in control, experimenting with the feel and depth of him as she pressed her tiptoes against the floor.

“
Ach
, Edward—I love you so.”

She smiled in tender triumph when he could barely form the words to give back to her and then she moved harder and they came together in the meeting of a thousand suns, each burning more brightly than the last, until she cuddled quietly against him, honey-sticky, content in the aftermath of their love.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Edward suppressed a frustrated sigh and wondered why he'd
kumme
to Martha Umble's
haus
for this very early morning visit. When Sarah's older friend wanted to, she could be as obstinate as a mule, and he had no doubt she was enjoying herself a little at his expense as well. But Sarah was more than worth it....

“So ya want a quilting fer yer bride?” Martha asked for the third time as she munched on some chestnuts she'd freed from their green spiny shells.

“
Nee
. . . not a quilting. A—a dressing.”

“Ya want us ta dress her? You've got no problem with the undressin' part, I'd wager.” She laughed aloud at her own bawdy humor, and he wondered helplessly where the bishop was.

“Okay, almost all that Sarah wears is gray . . .” he started again.

“Looks
gut
on her; matches her eyes.” Martha chewed louder than a woodchuck.

“Right, but she never had the royal blue dress of a real bride. . . .”

“That's because ya was undressed in her presence-like, young man.”

“Right, but what I'm wanting to do is get rid of all of her gray dresses, buy some colorful new fabrics, and have all of you women get together. Instead of quilting, I thought you could all sew dresses for Sarah. . . . So . . . a dressing, and I wanted it to be a surprise. I don't know; maybe it's a dumb idea.” He leaned his chin into his palm with some dejection that must have struck a chord with the
auld
woman.

“Now, now . . . I think it's a fine idea. Strange . . . but fine! What woman wouldn't want to be made a whole new wardrobe?”

“Probably my wife.” He smiled. “But I want it for her.”

Martha reached out to pat his knee. “Ye're a fine strappin' man, Edward King. Jest fine.”

Edward felt in strange accord with her complimentary words and rose to take his leave, only to turn back at the last moment to bend and press a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. She gasped and smacked at him, but he only laughed, whispering softly, “Our secret, Miss Martha.”

“
Jah
,” she agreed with a smile. “Our secret.”

 

 

Edward swatted Sarah's bottom and she squeaked, then laughed out loud. “I mean it, sir, I'm not going until you tell me what this is all about.”

He was practically chasing her around the kitchen table once back at home from his visit to Martha Umble's, but he didn't want to reveal that he'd gotten Ben Kauffman to open up an hour early. Nor did he tell her that he wanted to be there that morning for her to pick from the myriad colors of fabric for the surprise dressing.

“Let's say that left to your own devices, you'd turn this fine autumn morning into a gray day,” he joked until she ran full tilt into his arms.

She smiled up at him, obviously feigning coyness, and he bent to kiss her once and hard. “I think you're mocking my dress with your gray-day comment,” she pouted.

“Now, sweet, would I do that?” he asked her merrily, catching her arm and steering her toward the door.

“
Jah
.” She giggled. “You would.”

 

 

Sarah reveled in Edward's hold on her arm as they slowly walked the rocky path down from the cabin. She thought of the plan Jim Hanson had interrupted several days before and cast a warm smile up at her husband.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “But I might have my own secret this day as well.”

“I'll take anything from your hand, Sarah.”

She hugged his arm and thanked
Gott
for the fact that they'd been able to find a way to love.

He led her to the steps of Ben Kauffman's store and she paused, doubtfully looking up at the big windows. “Does Ben open so early now?” she asked.

“He might, if a fella makes it worth his while.
Kumme
.”

Sarah tripped gaily up the steps and was surprised when Ben met them at the door. “
Kumme
right in, folks,” he said in his booming, good-natured voice.

The strategically placed kerosene lamps lit up the familiar and comforting store as Sarah drew in an appreciative breath of mingled scents: wood, leather, spices, and dried fruit tantalized the nose and made her stomach rumble a bit for want of breakfast. But she was most surprised when Edward made a straight line for the large counter that stood before the myriad bolts of fabric available. She followed him, wondering what he was up to, when Ben, too, edged his bulk near the fabrics and looked expectant.

“Royal blue first,” Edward said.

Ben drew the beautiful bolt of fabric down from a selection of blues and then gave a professional, appraising look at Sarah.

“What is it?” she asked in confusion.

“About seven yards give or take,” Ben muttered, measuring out the blue material against the notches carved along the edge of the table. His shears flashed with authority, and then he neatly folded and pinned the fabric and looked back to Edward. “Next?”

Sarah was about to catch Edward's arm when a tiny whimpering sound caught her attention. She turned and followed the faint noise to a box on the floor near a stand of cedar sachets. “
Ach
, Ben, what's this?” she cried.

She knelt, careless of her dress, and gently lifted the dirty and matted little black dog into her arms.

“Found him last
nacht
on a walk after that brief shower we had. I imagine he's run off from somewhere, though he don't have a collar. You're welcome to him, missus.”

“
Ach
, he's darling. Edward,
kumme
and see.”

She sensed her husband's reluctance as he knelt down next to her. “Dogs don't usually take to me except Joe's Bear, and our cabin is pretty small, Sarah.”

“Oooh, his eyes are black as coal on a winter's day. I'll call him Blackie. Can we take him, Edward,
sei se gut?
”

She gave her husband her most winsome smile and saw a reluctant grin tug at his lips. “Anything for you, sweet.” He sighed and then lifted a gentle hand to stroke the dog's strangely wispy-haired ears.

“What sort do you say he is, Ben?” Edward asked.

“An oddball, that's what.” Ben laughed, coming to stand over them as he patted his stomach. “But he'll do with some bathing and love.”

“I think he's beautiful,” Sarah murmured, clutching the little animal closer.

“Ah . . . will you be wanting to continue now with yer shopping or would you both—with, uh, Blackie of course, care to join the family for a bit of breakfast?”

Sarah looked up at Edward. “I'm sorry,” she cried. “I interrupted your fabric shopping.”

He rolled his eye at her, then laughed. “I think we'll take that breakfast first, Ben. I can hear your belly rumbling from here.”

Sarah nodded and cuddled the little
hund
closer.

 

 

The Kauffman family was huge, but as Frau Kauffman put it, there was “always room at the table for more.”

Edward thanked his hostess while he watched his wife show off her new pet to the children and took joy in her simple happiness. And he realized she didn't fuss about keeping her apron perfectly white. As much as he wanted her to wear colors like the ones she added to his life, a few muddy little paw prints on her breast did a lot to add to her own sweet attractiveness. He found himself beginning to slip into the pleasant lassitude that usually accompanied his fantasies about Sarah when Ben clapped him on the shoulder.

“
Kumme
sit by
Fater
, Edward. I think yer wife is happiest amongst the
kinner
.” Edward nodded and slipped over to the bench next to Solomon Kauffman, who was as near to ninety as a man could be. Everyone on the mountain knew that the old man suffered from bouts of senility, but he was always treated with the greatest respect, as any elder should be.

“You like toast?” the
auld
man asked in a patronizing tone during the silence of grace. Edward tried not to smile and opened his eye to give a quick nod. A few of the younger
kinner
giggled and Ben cleared his throat. “What about weasels? You like weasels?” Edward shook his head, then breathed a faint sigh of relief when the exact twenty-one seconds of grace were over.

“Elijah King here, he don't like weasels!” Solomon crowed to the now busy table. No one seemed to mind much, but Edward froze.
Elijah King . . . my grandfather . . .
He passed the steaming platter of scrambled eggs and glanced down the table to Sarah. She was staring at him, her beautiful face serious.
But she doesn't know . . .
He pushed aside the insidiously dark thought, trying not to analyze exactly what it was she didn't know and accepted a fresh biscuit from Solomon.

“You still runnin' shine, Elijah?” Solomon asked conversationally. “I'll take ajar or two if you've got it handy.”

Edward stared down at his plate and shook his head.

“
Daed!
That's not Elijah King—it's Edward, his grandson,” Ben called down the table as he chewed a piece of ham steak.

“What?” Solomon yelled back. Then he muttered to Edward, “These young folks all mumble, Elijah. Now, what about that 'shine?”

 

 

Sarah didn't question Edward when he told Ben that they would finish shopping another time. Instead, she followed him outside as he absently took her free hand and helped her down the steps while she carried the dog.

Edward's head was bowed and he appeared deep in thought, and she hated to intrude. So, instead, she silently prayed for him until they'd turned the bend in the road. Then she stopped and Edward did likewise, but she could tell he was paying no attention to where they were.

She let go of his hand, then reached up to encircle his neck with her free arm. “Hey,” she whispered.

He looked at her then, his tiger's eye veiled and hurting. “What?”

“I love you,” she said clearly as a light breeze stirred up the brown and red leaves at her feet.

“I love you, too.”

She heard the expected answer but knew it lacked focus, so she tried again, stretching to place a warm kiss on his lips, then using the tip of her tongue to tease at his mouth. She could tell when he came back to her, suddenly deepening the kiss, slanting his head to taste more of her until Blackie yelped at the closeness.

Edward drew back with visible reluctance and Sarah gestured to the brown paper–wrapped fabric he carried.

“That bridal fabric, Edward . . . would you like to see me in it?”

“
Jah
,” he said simply, but she let her lashes fall, then glanced up at him with desire sparking through her at her intimate thoughts.

I know I can reach him with my body and heart even if I can't with my mind. . . .
“I thought how nice the blue would look spread out on our bed,” she confided in seductive tones. “What do you think?”

He blinked. “I never thought of that. . . .”

He sounded so surprised that she laughed, then kissed him once more.

“Well, I'm glad I've got a creative mind,” she said, and the morning seemed much brighter.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sometime later
,
Edward smiled in sleepy contentment when Sarah bent to murmur in his ear.

“I forgot something at Ben's.”

“Mmm . . . 'k,” he slurred, then began rewinding the past half hour in his thoughts like a long gossamer strand.

Sarah had deposited the little dog into a convenient basket, where it had settled comfortably; then she went to wash her hands at the pump sink.

He'd watched her, clutching the paper-wrapped fabric, seeing the play of liquid and sunshine between her delicate fingers, and he'd felt more charged and excited than he could ever remember. It was the first time she'd suggested their lovemaking and in such a creative fashion that he could hardly wait to undress her. But then she'd dried her hands and walked toward him, loosening her
kapp
and hair until the entire shiny mass had fallen to brush at her hips as she neared him.

His nostrils were filled with the fresh scent of her, and he reached out a hand to caress her hip through the usual gray dress. But she forestalled him by reaching to take the fabric from his hand. She turned and he helplessly followed the swing of her hips into the bedroom. She'd opened the fabric with tantalizing slowness, the sounds magnified in his ears, his senses heightened. And then she'd dropped the wrapper and approached the bed to shake out the fall of royal blue and then carefully begun to spread it out on the bed.

He'd moved again, coming up behind her to catch her hips, but she somehow stepped away. “Help me,” she'd whispered, and he ground his teeth but obeyed. When the fabric was in vibrant place, she'd undone her apron and he'd gotten the point in his brain that he was to be treated to the sight of Sarah undressing herself in the bright slant of morning sunlight....

The sudden sound of Blackie the dog whining interrupted his pleasant thoughts and he glanced ruefully toward the basket, where the little whiskery face looked up expectantly.

“You need a bath,” Edward said. “And I could use a cold dip in the creek.”

 

 

“I tell you, Sarah,” Ben Kauffman shook his head, “I was going to take that horse back to market this coming Saturday.”

“
Ach
, please don't, Ben. I mean it. I really do want to barter with you for Sunny so that Edward can find happiness when he rides.” Sarah struggled to keep the note of desperation out of her voice as she glanced through the store window to the pasture beyond, where Sunny grazed.

Ben had taken the huge black gelding back after the accident on the road, but Sarah knew in her heart that Edward missed the animal, though he would never speak of it.

“And frankly, Sarah, yer arm's still in a cast.... Would you really want the big brute that ran you down around the farm?”

“
Jah
, I would.” She nodded. “Now let's barter. I give you, for all nine children and you and your wife and Solomon, of course, a lifetime of care as you need healing and you give me Sunny.”

Ben smiled. “I'm a business owner, Sarah. I can't put stock in a future like that—suppose the
kinner
remain healthy as dirt?”

She gave him an arch look and began to tick off ailments on one hand. “Toothache, insomnia, cold in the lungs, headache . . .”

Ben held his hands up in a placating manner. “
Jah, jah
. . . all right.”

“Annnd . . .” She kept her tone low. “I think I have an herbal mixture that might help Solomon sleep better at
nacht
.”

Ben's face took on a look of intense interest. Sarah had heard through Martha Umble that many was the time Ben had stubbed a bare toe at night following after his
fater
, who sleepwalked, and Ben loved his sleep. Sarah was not above wielding a little herbal power if it meant fetching Sunny back where he belonged.

“
Ach
, all right.” Ben groaned. “The horse is yours. I haven't been able to break him in a whit anyway, and I want something gentler for the missus.” He stuck out a hamlike hand and Sarah took it firmly.

“Deal.” She smiled.

“I'll get one of the
buwes
to walk Sunny over for you. No sense you takin' a chance with that arm.”

“No need, Ben,” Sarah's
fater
spoke up from behind her. “I'll take the horse and see Sarah home.”

Sarah turned to smile in grateful surprise at her
daed
but realized that she was still a bit uncertain around him after his newly expressed tenderness toward her. Yet she knew that they needed time together, and she was more than happy to give it.

 

 

Mahlon held the reins of the black horse carefully and glanced over at Sarah as she walked a bit apart along the dirt road.

“I don't know if ya remember the time I cut down that big horse chestnut tree we had towerin' over the cabin?” he asked.

“I do,” she replied simply, and he knew why her answer was brief.

He cleared his throat. “I've been doin' some rememberin', Sarah. It
kummes
to me that I was harsh with ya that day. . . .”

She smiled slightly. “I wanted to make a necklace out of the horse chestnuts, but we don't wear jewelry—of course.”

Mahlon shuffled a bit, then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a wonderful chunky necklace of rich brown horse chestnuts, each carefully strung next to the other to form a beautiful link with nature's abundance. “Here ya go, child.”

He was pleased when she stopped and reached out a shaking hand to take the offering. “
Ach, Daed
. . . why . . .”

He smiled, feeling his throat tighten. “We only got so much time to make things right, Sarah, and I'd like to start. There's no harm in a necklace made of
Gott
's bounty. It would please me if you'd wear it.”

Sunny whinnied a bit when she came into Mahlon's arms, tears falling gently down her pretty cheeks. “
Danki, Daddi. Ach, danki
. . .”

He patted her soft head and knew peace in his heart. “You be welcome, child.”

 

 

“What
en der weldt
are you doing?” Joseph asked, walking through the leaves.

Edward looked up from the old tub he'd decided to use to bathe Blackie. The little
hund
seemed to have a particular aversion to the water and had all four feet stretched out, looking like some dripping rat instead of a respectable dog.

“Sarah found a pet,” Edward said with a half smile as Blackie shook, spraying water all about.

Joseph laughed. “Well, you'll have to introduce it, er, him, to Bear. Priscilla wanted me to
kumme
over and invite you both for supper tonight.”

“I'd like that,” Edward said honestly. “I feel like I haven't talked to
Daed
in a while.”

“He misses you, but he doesn't want to intrude on you and Sarah. I remember what it was to be a newlywed—you're kind of in your own little world.”

Edward arched a brow at his big
bruder
. “What are you talking about? You're still a newlywed.” He lifted a towel from the ground and swathed the little dog in it, hugging the animal close to his bare chest when he felt it shivering through the cotton.

“I guess I am,” Joseph agreed good-naturedly, then appeared serious. “Say, that Jim Hanson came around and talked to
Daed
when I wasn't home.... Almost has him convinced to invest in this Marcellus Shale thing.”

Edward got to his feet and shook his head. “I'm sorry, Joe. I need to get rid of that guy or the community is going to be hurt.”

“But what if he's on the up-and-up?” Joseph asked idly, bending to tip the tub into the grass.

“He's not,” Edward said flatly. “I can feel it.”

“Well, he sure seems . . .” Joseph broke off, and a grin stretched across his face.

“What?” Edward asked, trying to dry the squirming dog.

“Here
kummes
your bride, and I think she may have a present for you.”

 

 

Later that afternoon, they walked out to the barn together. Sarah still wore her chestnut necklace and Edward had rejoiced with her when she'd explained its origin. But now she knew great pleasure in watching him feed first
auld
Mollie and then Sunny a bit of carrot, making low, soothing sounds from the back of his throat that caused Sarah herself to shiver with delight.

“Do you like your gift?” she asked lightly. Edward turned and caught her in his arms. “I do indeed, sweet. I wonder if you'd trust me enough to go riding with me on Sunny?” He touched her casted arm, then bent to kiss it with a penitent gesture that moved her heart.

She still felt leery of the tall horse, but she trusted Edward more than she'd ever thought possible. “Of course . . . or at least I'll try.”

He drew a deep breath and nodded, staring down at her with his heated tiger's eye. “I can't promise never to hurt you again, Sarah.”

“And I wouldn't want you to,” she protested earnestly.

“I know. But I can promise to always trust
Gott
with my actions, and I pray that I will bring you the honor you deserve both as my wife and as my best friend.”

She smiled up at him, joy trembling on her lips. “I couldn't ask for anything more.”