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Synopsis
Moving to a new Amish settlement in small-town Colorado was a brave new start for independent-minded quiltmaker Esther Liem. But helping her reckless relative will really put her special matchmaking skills to the test . . .
Mischievous and rebellious, young Ben Liem is making the wrong kind of name for himself throughout the town of Yoder. And even though his sister-in-law, Esther, somehow coaxes him into keeping company with sensible Linda Eicher, Ben can't see anything they have in common. Or that he could ever be good enough for someone like her. But Linda's down-to-earth nature and unexpected understanding have Ben trying his best to be better, no matter how challenging . . .
Linda couldn't be more surprised when Ben turns out to be caring and helpful, despite his rowdy pranks and bad-news friends. And falling in love with him suddenly seems just right. But when a heartbreaking misunderstanding comes between them, both she and Ben must risk enough to trust, stitch the pieces back together—and dare a forever precious happiness.
Release date: June 29, 2021
Publisher: Zebra Books
Print pages: 352
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The Amish Quiltmaker's Unruly In-Law
Jennifer Beckstrand
Linda Eicher tightened her arm around her little sister, Nora, who was shivering uncontrollably. She rubbed her hand up and down Nora’s arm in an attempt to generate some heat so Nora’s teeth wouldn’t crack from chattering so hard. “Cold day, ain’t not?” she said, flashing Nora a grin.
Ten-year-old Nora sucked in her breath between her teeth. “We should move to Florida. There’s lots of Amish in Florida. That’s what Brittany Peeples says. And they never have bad weather.”
“There’s no such thing as bad weather,” Linda said. “Only the wrong clothes.”
Nora made a face. “What does that mean?”
“Sounds like a whole lot of nonsense,” Mamm said.
Dat glanced back at Nora from the front seat of the buggy. “Isn’t it nice to have a heater on days like this? The buggy will be warm in no time.”
Mamm, as rigid and unyielding as ever, folded her arms and stared out the front window. “In my day, the bishop didn’t allow buggy heaters or taillights. And that was in Wisconsin. You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen a Wisconsin winter. Isn’t that right, Tim?”
“That’s right, heartzley. That’s the very reason we moved to Colorado. Our children won’t freeze like icicles every time we take a ride in the buggy yet.”
Linda smiled to herself. Mamm sounded a hundred years old when she talked about how things were “in her day,” even though she was only forty-two. Mamm liked to reminisce about the good old days when they weren’t allowed to have battery-operated lights or LP gas stoves, but she was as happy as anybody not having to live that way anymore. When Linda was nine, her parents had followed a bishop and a group of Amish people from their more conservative community in Wisconsin to settle in Colorado, where the bishop and the elders had made the Ordnung strict but not suffocating. They were still considered Old Order Amish, but heaters in buggies and LP gas refrigerators were allowed. Such things made life easier, while still keeping their community separate from the world.
“I’m not cold,” Elmer Lee insisted, even though he clamped his arms around himself and leaned into Linda for warmth. At fourteen, Elmer Lee thought it was unmanly to be cold.
Linda put her arm around him anyway. Soon Elmer Lee would be a man and too old for a schwester’s affection. Elmer Lee grunted his disapproval but didn’t pull away. Linda cocked her head to one side. “Did you hear that?”
Over the rhythmic thud of horse hooves against a snow-packed road and the sound of buggy wheels rolling over the ground, there was a strange creak and a faint swish-swish coming from behind them.
“Hear what?” Dat said with a grin. “Is Elmer’s stomach rumbling?”
Linda frowned. “Something’s behind us.” She turned around and knelt on the bench so she could see out one of the tiny windows in the back. “Ach, du lieva,” she muttered. An Amish boy was gliding over the deep snow on the side of the road behind their buggy, holding tightly to two ends of a rope. He had somehow attached his rope to their buggy, and they were pulling him along at a pretty good clip. “Ach, du lieva,” Linda said again. “He’s hitched a ride.”
“What?”
“Someone is skiing behind our buggy.”
Elmer Lee knelt on the bench and peeked out the other window. “I think it’s Ben Kiem,” he said. “He’s not doing so gute.”
Of course it was Ben Kiem, either him or one of the other troublemakers in the gmayna he hung out with. Ben was indeed wobbly on those skis, as if he’d never skied a day in his life, which he probably hadn’t. Skiing wasn’t a popular Amish sport, though Linda was always trying to convince die youngie to try it.
Mamm opened her window and stuck her head out of the buggy, letting in a blast of frigid air that obliterated any wisp of warmth from the battery-operated heater. “Stop, Tim. Stop the buggy!” she yelled. “He’s going to die.”
Before Dat could stop, Ben met a three-foot-deep drift of snow, went airborne, and crashed spectacularly into a snowbank. Right before the crash, there was a creak and a metallic pop from the buggy. It wasn’t a heartening sound. Dat pulled on the reins and stopped Snapper in the middle of the road. Dat set the brake, and the family piled out of the buggy, except for Nora, who was more cold than she was curious.
Ignoring the body lying in the snow, Mamm bent over to look at the right-side taillight, which lay shattered on the road along with the bracket that held it to the buggy. It seemed Ben had looped his rope around the taillight and used that to hook himself to the buggy.
Linda and Elmer Lee went straight for the stupid boy lying in the snow, a twisted mess of arms and legs and skis. “You okay?” Elmer Lee said.
Ben lay on his back, gazing at the sky as if he’d been camped there for hours looking for cloud animals. His black church hat had stayed on his head the whole ride, but now it was caked with snow, and the brim had partially torn away from the cap. Breathing heavily, he tried to sit up, fell back, and grimaced.
“Are you hurt?” Linda said, holding out her hand to help him up.
“I’m fine,” was his curt reply. He ignored her hand and managed to sit up by himself.
“You broke our turn light,” Elmer said.
“A rock tripped me.”
Linda smiled, glad that he wasn’t seriously hurt and glad no one in her family was as dumm as Ben Kiem. “You’re a terrible skier.”
Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise and indignation. “Nobody asked you.” He tried to stand, but it was going to be almost impossible the way his rope was tangled around his skis and his skis were tangled around his legs.
“Elmer, can you untwist the rope?” Linda bent over to see what she could do about removing the skis from his feet. And burst out laughing. She laughed until it hurt and still she couldn’t stop.
The resentment grew like mold on Ben’s face. “What’s so funny?”
“These are water skis,” Linda stuttered between giggles. “You’re snow skiing with water skis. Oy, anyhow, you look silly.”
“I do not. I was just having some fun, and they worked fine.” Elmer pulled the ropes away, and Ben tried to stand, but the skis were just too cumbersome and slick for him to gain any traction.
Linda took hold of the tip of one water ski.
Ben jerked his foot back. “Go away.”
Linda blew air from between her lips. “Let me help you get those things off, or your hinnerdale is going to freeze. You don’t enjoy sitting in the snow, do you?”
He narrowed his eyes in her direction. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I only make fun of people when they deserve it, like when they do something deerich and immature and suffer the consequences. You have to admit you look wonderful funny.”
“Leave me alone,” Ben hissed. He made a feeble attempt to reach out and pull off one of his skis, but he couldn’t bend his leg close enough to get a good grip on the ski.
Linda sighed loudly. “Ach, don’t be such a baby. Elmer Lee, come on this side.” She wrapped both hands around the tip of Ben’s left ski and tugged firmly. Elmer Lee did the same with the right ski.
Ben gasped as the left water ski came off his foot, along with his black boot. Fortunately, his stocking stayed put, though he did have a rather large hole where the big toe stuck out. Elmer Lee managed to get the other ski off without removing Ben’s boot. Linda yanked the boot from the rubber toehold of the ski and handed it to Ben. He took it grudgingly and without looking at her, quickly put it back on his foot, and pushed himself from the ground. His church trousers were soaked, and his coat and mittens were caked with snow and ice. And his hat! Oh, dear. Linda couldn’t keep a giggle from tripping from her lips.
He turned on her as if she had attacked him with a knife. “What is so funny?”
She couldn’t speak without erupting with laughter, so she clapped her hand over her mouth and simply pointed to his head.
Elmer Lee still had the power of speech. “The brim of your hat is ripped.” It was literally hanging on to the crown by a thread.
Ben reached up, grabbed his hat by the crown, and snatched it off his head. The force of Ben’s tug was too much for the brim. It gave up its hold, ripped from the crown, and fell to the ground.
Elmer Lee and Linda burst into laughter. Ben’s face grew even redder. Linda felt a tiny bit bad about laughing, but Ben Kiem had gotten his just desserts. Besides, the more she tried to suppress her laughter, the worse it got.
He tossed what was left of his hat into the snow. “That’s not very Christian of you to laugh at me.”
She was sorely tempted to scold him, but he’d probably had enough of her disapproval for one day. “Don’t look so sour. A merry heart does gute like a medicine.”
Mamm walked toward Ben carrying the shards of their taillight in her outstretched hand. “You broke our buggy. And for sure and certain, you’re going to pay for it.”
Stiffly, Ben bent over and picked up his skis and his rope. “You should ask the man that made that buggy for you to pay. The taillight wasn’t attached securely.”
“Don’t blame other people for what you’ve wrought yourself,” Mamm said, shaking her finger at him as if he were a naughty toddler.
Ben took a step back and grunted. “Okay, okay. I’ll pay to have it fixed. You don’t have to get all worked up. I was only having some fun.”
Mamm wasn’t going to let him get away with that excuse. She never let anyone get away with anything if she could help it. “Fun at another person’s expense is selfishness.”
Ben shot a piercing look at Linda. “Or spite,” he muttered.
Linda raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t being spiteful when she’d laughed at him, was she? Mostly she was amused. And maybe a little bit smug that Ben Kiem hadn’t gotten away with his mischief making like he usually did.
Mamm pinned Ben with a withering stare. “Not only did you break our buggy, but you were skiing on the Sabbath. Sabbath breaking is a serious sin, Ben Kiem. Are you going to tell your dat or should I?”
Ben’s face seemed to lose all color. Ben’s dat was the bishop, and if there was anybody who shouldn’t break the Sabbath, it was the bishop’s son. But like a cornered wild animal, he decided to attack. “I’m in rumschpringe. I can make my own choices.”
Mamm shook her head. “Rumschpringe doesn’t give you leave to break the commandments. Best to confess your sin to your dat and face the consequences like a man.”
Ben paused and pressed his lips together, as if giving Mamm’s advice serious thought. Or maybe he was contemplating how much trouble he’d be in when his dat found out about what he’d done.
Linda didn’t feel quite so smug anymore. Maybe Ben really was sorry. And maybe she could try to make him feel better. “If you really want to ski, you need the right skis. Cross-country skis are best for . . .”
Ben scowled. “I don’t care.”
Okay then. She’d let him figure out his own skis.
Mamm frowned. “Skiing is folly, Linda. A waste of your money, if you ask me.”
Linda grinned at her mother. They’d had some version of this conversation more times than Linda could count. Worrying and fussing was how Mamm showed her love. “Now, Mamm, I need sunshine and fresh air. You can’t put a price on that.”
Mamm harrumphed. “Need fresh air? Milk the cow or feed the chickens. Don’t come crying to me if you get killed by a bear or drown in a river or fall off a cliff.”
Linda giggled. “If any of those things happen, I promise not to bother you with it.”
Mamm cracked a smile and waved her hand in Linda’s direction. “Ach, stop teasing me.”
Nora stuck her head out of the buggy. “It’s really getting cold in here.”
“Let’s go home,” Dat said. He put his arm around Elmer Lee and nudged him toward the buggy.
Mamm nodded as if everything had been settled to her satisfaction. “We will let you know how much it costs to fix the taillight. And you make certain you tell your dat what you’ve done today. Have a gute Sabbath.”
Ben probably wouldn’t have a gute Sabbath if he told his dat what he’d done, but Mamm probably hadn’t thought that through. Mamm, Dat, and Elmer Lee climbed into the buggy.
Without acknowledging Mamm’s gute wishes, Ben tucked his skis under one arm, turned away, and ambled down the road like a very old man.
“Wait,” Linda said, running after him. “Let us give you a ride back.”
“Nae, denki,” Ben said. “I’ll walk.”
She hadn’t expected him to say yes, but she’d done the right thing by asking. It was cold, he was soaking wet, and it was a long way back. He’d skied for at least a quarter mile.
She shrugged. “Okay. Let me know if you want to go cross-country skiing sometime. It’s fun, and it’s slower than downhill skiing so you’re less likely to wipe out.”
He shuffled down the road. “I’d rather go to the dentist,” he said, without looking back.
He was obviously still mad at her, because who in their right mind would rather see the dentist than go skiing? At least she could say she’d done her best.
Ben tried to walk without limping, at least until Linda Eicher’s buggy was out of sight. He wasn’t going to give that snobby girl the satisfaction of knowing that he’d hurt himself. He’d been laughed at enough for one day. And he wouldn’t have gotten into that buggy even if a pack of angry wolves had been chasing him. The righteous indignation in there would have smothered him.
He glanced behind him. The buggy turned down the road. Now he could limp as badly as he wanted to. His leg burned something wonderful, and his shoulder would for sure and certain have a big bruise. He’d fallen on something hard and unforgiving under the snow, and now his whole body screamed in agony. After less than a hundred steps, he started wishing he’d taken Linda Eicher up on her offer of a ride home. His trousers were soaking wet, he didn’t have a hat, and his shin hurt so badly, he seriously didn’t know how much farther he could go.
If Linda Eicher hadn’t laughed at him, he wouldn’t have refused a ride in her buggy. His predicament was all her fault.
Needing to lighten his load, he tossed Wally’s skis and the rope off to the side of the road. He could come back for them later when the pain didn’t make him feel like passing out. Something wet and sticky felt as if it was pooling at the bottom of his boot. A dizzying sight met him when he lifted his trouser leg. Oh, sis yuscht. An angry gash at least five inches long and who-knew-how deep ran down the length of his shin. The front of his trouser leg was soaked with blood, but Ben hadn’t noticed before because his trousers were black and already wet. A long rip in the fabric showed where something sharp had torn through his trousers and cut his leg. He turned and squinted in the direction of where he’d fallen. Smears of dark red blood stained the snow. Neither he nor any of the Eichers had noticed. He’d also left a trail of tiny drops of blood on the snowy road. Oh, sis yuscht. Skiing behind a buggy was the stupidest idea he and Wally Bontrager had ever thought up.
But Wally had dared him to do it, and Ben was never one to back down from a dare.
Ben shivered violently, whether from the cold or his own stupidity, he wasn’t exactly sure. He peered down the road toward the Troyers’ house where they had held services today. It looked so far away. Like Linda had said, he’d gone a long way on those skis. One side of his mouth curled upward. It had felt like flying.
Where was Wally? Only two buggies were still parked in front of the Troyers’ house. Most people had already gone home. Not wanting his parents to see what he was about to do with Wally’s skis on the Sabbath, he had told his parents not to wait for him. He often walked home with Wally and Simeon. Ben heaved a great sigh. If he went to the Troyers’ house, he’d have to confess to breaking the Sabbath and breaking the Eichers’ taillight. But could he make it all the way home before either freezing or bleeding to death?
He glanced down at his leg. He wasn’t going to bleed to death, but it sure hurt something wonderful. He needed to get out of the wind and prop up his leg, maybe take a nice warm bath and then wash his clothes in the sink so Mamm would never know about his foolishness. It would be harder to hide the seven-inch tear in his trousers. Did he even know where Mamm kept her needles and thread? Could he figure out how to sew even if he found them?
To sew! His new sister-in-law, Esther, knew how to sew. According to his bruder Levi, Esther was one of the best quilters in the country. Surely she would repair his trousers without telling Mamm or Dat. Esther was nice like that and so was Levi. Neither of them would tell on Ben, and their house was closer. Easier than limping all the way home.
Ben glanced to the north. Would it be faster to cut across three pastures, wading through knee-deep snow, or to take the long route by way of the snow-packed road? He’d already made one stupid decision today. He wouldn’t make another. The road it was, and he’d have to hurry. He sucked in a hard breath in anticipation of the pain. It was going to be a long fifteen minutes, but he’d brought this on himself. No doubt, Linda Eicher would say it was exactly what he deserved.
Every step was agony, but the bitter cold propelled him forward. How deerich he had been to hitch a ride behind Eicher’s buggy without planning on a way to get back. Wally had probably been cornered by his dat and ordered to go home before he could help Ben. He was on his own.
After ten minutes of half limping, half dragging himself down the road, Ben was almost breathless with relief at the sight of Levi and Esther’s house. He had never seen a more beautiful sight than the tidy, red-brick house where his bruder and schwester-in-law lived with their adopted daughter, Winnie. Wisps of smoke curled from the chimney, and tiny icicles hung from the seams of the rain gutters. Those leaks would need to be caulked come spring. Ben would have to do it because Levi shouldn’t be getting up on ladders now that he had a family to take care of.
The nearness of the house gave Ben new purpose. He limped double-time down the road and practically ran across the yard to their porch. He stopped himself right before he knocked. Even though he wanted to pound the door down and get into the warmth of the house, he didn’t want to wake Winnie if she was taking a nap. He knocked softly, waited for a few seconds, then knocked again louder.
Levi opened the door, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “What has happened? You look froze to death.” He ushered Ben into the house and closed the door behind him. “Cum, cum,” he said, leading Ben into the kitchen.
Winnie sat in her highchair with spaghetti sauce smeared all over her face. “Beh!” Winnie squealed, reaching for Ben with her tomatoey hands. Beh was how she said his name, and it was actually the only word she knew. Winnie loved Ben, even if everyone else thought he was a nuisance.
Esther stood at the stove stirring a pot of liquid that smelled wonderful gute, like Christmas morning in a warm house. Ben’s sister-in-law always had something tucked behind her ear. Today it was a plastic spoon. She turned around to look at him, and her eyes flashed in alarm. No doubt, he was a shocking sight. “Ach, du lieva, Ben! Ach, du lieva. Sit down, sit down right now.”
Levi pulled a chair out from under the table, and Ben sort of fell into it. His pants were so stiff, he couldn’t bend his knees. Esther clucked her tongue, bent over him, and took his face in her hands. He hissed. The touch of her warm skin felt like a hot iron against his cheeks.
“Your face is like ice,” she said. She curled her fingers around his ears. “And no hat. Your ears are bright red. They must ache something wonderful.”
“Can I have a blanket?”
“No blanket for you.” Esther glanced at Levi. “He needs a warm bath, but not too warm or it will burn his skin.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a cooking thermometer. “Maybe a hundred degrees? Like we do for Winnie’s bath.”
Levi took the thermometer and marched down the hall to the bathroom.
Esther gasped. “There’s blood.” She turned her head in the direction Levi had just gone. “Levi, there’s blood.”
Levi shot out of the bathroom like a boomerang. “What?”
Esther pointed to three tiny drops on the floor. “Blood.”
“Sorry to get your floor dirty,” Ben said. “It should have stopped bleeding by now.”
“Do you think I care about my floor at a time like this?” Esther knelt down next to him. “Let me see.” She made a face and glanced up at him. “Left leg?”
He nodded then tensed when she reached out.
“Not to worry. I’ll be careful. I just want to see what sort of mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Ben gripped the armrests and shot a pleading look at Levi. “Don’t tell Dat.”
Levi didn’t reply, just watched as Esther studied Ben’s leg. She raised her hand and hovered it over his leg—thank Derr Herr she didn’t touch it—then untied the sticky, blood-caked laces of his boot. She turned to Levi. “Can you help?”
Levi jumped as if he’d been shot from a rifle. He knelt down beside Esther, cupped his hands around the heel of Ben’s boot and slowly pulled it off. The motion hurt a little, but mostly because his foot ached with cold.
“You’ve got a hole in your stocking,” Esther said, the hint of a smile playing at her lips. “Why is it that boys never care about their stockings? It’s an embarrassment to mothers everywhere.” She gently pulled off his stocking and nudged his stiff pant leg up to his knee. It couldn’t help but scrape against the gash in his leg.
He grunted in pain. Linda Eicher would say he deserved it.
A sound of distress came from the back of Esther’s throat. “Ach, Ben. You got yourself but good.” She looked at Levi. “We should take him to the hospital.”
Ben’s teeth started chattering. The sight of his leg caked with dried blood made him dizzy, not to mention that the cold had finally seeped into his bones. He could sure enough use a smoke right now. “I don’t need a hospital. It’s not that bad.”
“Ha,” Levi said, showing a lot less concern for his seriously wounded bruder than he should have. Something like a smile crept onto his face. “Your teeth are going to vibrate right out of your head. You need a bath, then we can talk about the hospital. I’ll fill the tub.”
Nothing in the world sounded better than a warm bath. Ben’s joints were so stiff and cold, they felt as if they might snap if he tried to move them.
Esther turned off whatever was on the stove then removed his other boot, then his stocking. This one didn’t have a hole, but she didn’t mention it, even though he deserved a little credit for one good stocking. She helped him off with his coat and laid it on the table. “Do I need to walk you to the bathroom? Levi is going to need to help you off with your trousers and such.”
For sure and certain, Levi was going to need to help. Ben’s fingers were so stiff, he couldn’t even make a fist. “I can walk, but I’ll get blood on your floor.”
Esther scrunched her lips to one side of her face. “Don’t you just love how easy it is to clean linoleum?”
Ben cracked a smile. “I’ve never cleaned it, so I wouldn’t know.”
“Ben Kiem, it’s high time you did more to help your mamm around the house.” Esther offered both hands and pulled Ben to his feet. The kitchen spun in front of his eyes for a few seconds. It was a gute thing the bathroom wasn’t far down the hall. Esther must have sensed how unstable he was, because she draped his arm around her shoulder and toddled with him to the bathroom.
The bath was pure torture and pure heaven at the same time. His skin stung something wonderful when the water touched it, but then the warmth seeped into his body and he melted like a bar of chocolate on a summer day. He washed his hair twice and gingerly washed his leg with strong soap and a washcloth. By the time he finished, the bathwater was pink.
Levi brought Ben some clean clothes and a fluffy white towel that smelled like a warm spring breeze. He didn’t deserve a warm spring breeze, but he certainly wasn’t going to refuse it. He put on Levi’s blue shirt and a pair of Levi’s underwear and wrapped the towel around his waist. It was embarrassing for his sister-in-law to see him without trousers, but they’d only get in the way when she fixed his leg. If she fixed his leg. She might refuse to help him and insist he go to the hospital.
His wound had started bleeding again when he’d gotten into the tub, and blood continued to . . .
Ten-year-old Nora sucked in her breath between her teeth. “We should move to Florida. There’s lots of Amish in Florida. That’s what Brittany Peeples says. And they never have bad weather.”
“There’s no such thing as bad weather,” Linda said. “Only the wrong clothes.”
Nora made a face. “What does that mean?”
“Sounds like a whole lot of nonsense,” Mamm said.
Dat glanced back at Nora from the front seat of the buggy. “Isn’t it nice to have a heater on days like this? The buggy will be warm in no time.”
Mamm, as rigid and unyielding as ever, folded her arms and stared out the front window. “In my day, the bishop didn’t allow buggy heaters or taillights. And that was in Wisconsin. You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen a Wisconsin winter. Isn’t that right, Tim?”
“That’s right, heartzley. That’s the very reason we moved to Colorado. Our children won’t freeze like icicles every time we take a ride in the buggy yet.”
Linda smiled to herself. Mamm sounded a hundred years old when she talked about how things were “in her day,” even though she was only forty-two. Mamm liked to reminisce about the good old days when they weren’t allowed to have battery-operated lights or LP gas stoves, but she was as happy as anybody not having to live that way anymore. When Linda was nine, her parents had followed a bishop and a group of Amish people from their more conservative community in Wisconsin to settle in Colorado, where the bishop and the elders had made the Ordnung strict but not suffocating. They were still considered Old Order Amish, but heaters in buggies and LP gas refrigerators were allowed. Such things made life easier, while still keeping their community separate from the world.
“I’m not cold,” Elmer Lee insisted, even though he clamped his arms around himself and leaned into Linda for warmth. At fourteen, Elmer Lee thought it was unmanly to be cold.
Linda put her arm around him anyway. Soon Elmer Lee would be a man and too old for a schwester’s affection. Elmer Lee grunted his disapproval but didn’t pull away. Linda cocked her head to one side. “Did you hear that?”
Over the rhythmic thud of horse hooves against a snow-packed road and the sound of buggy wheels rolling over the ground, there was a strange creak and a faint swish-swish coming from behind them.
“Hear what?” Dat said with a grin. “Is Elmer’s stomach rumbling?”
Linda frowned. “Something’s behind us.” She turned around and knelt on the bench so she could see out one of the tiny windows in the back. “Ach, du lieva,” she muttered. An Amish boy was gliding over the deep snow on the side of the road behind their buggy, holding tightly to two ends of a rope. He had somehow attached his rope to their buggy, and they were pulling him along at a pretty good clip. “Ach, du lieva,” Linda said again. “He’s hitched a ride.”
“What?”
“Someone is skiing behind our buggy.”
Elmer Lee knelt on the bench and peeked out the other window. “I think it’s Ben Kiem,” he said. “He’s not doing so gute.”
Of course it was Ben Kiem, either him or one of the other troublemakers in the gmayna he hung out with. Ben was indeed wobbly on those skis, as if he’d never skied a day in his life, which he probably hadn’t. Skiing wasn’t a popular Amish sport, though Linda was always trying to convince die youngie to try it.
Mamm opened her window and stuck her head out of the buggy, letting in a blast of frigid air that obliterated any wisp of warmth from the battery-operated heater. “Stop, Tim. Stop the buggy!” she yelled. “He’s going to die.”
Before Dat could stop, Ben met a three-foot-deep drift of snow, went airborne, and crashed spectacularly into a snowbank. Right before the crash, there was a creak and a metallic pop from the buggy. It wasn’t a heartening sound. Dat pulled on the reins and stopped Snapper in the middle of the road. Dat set the brake, and the family piled out of the buggy, except for Nora, who was more cold than she was curious.
Ignoring the body lying in the snow, Mamm bent over to look at the right-side taillight, which lay shattered on the road along with the bracket that held it to the buggy. It seemed Ben had looped his rope around the taillight and used that to hook himself to the buggy.
Linda and Elmer Lee went straight for the stupid boy lying in the snow, a twisted mess of arms and legs and skis. “You okay?” Elmer Lee said.
Ben lay on his back, gazing at the sky as if he’d been camped there for hours looking for cloud animals. His black church hat had stayed on his head the whole ride, but now it was caked with snow, and the brim had partially torn away from the cap. Breathing heavily, he tried to sit up, fell back, and grimaced.
“Are you hurt?” Linda said, holding out her hand to help him up.
“I’m fine,” was his curt reply. He ignored her hand and managed to sit up by himself.
“You broke our turn light,” Elmer said.
“A rock tripped me.”
Linda smiled, glad that he wasn’t seriously hurt and glad no one in her family was as dumm as Ben Kiem. “You’re a terrible skier.”
Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise and indignation. “Nobody asked you.” He tried to stand, but it was going to be almost impossible the way his rope was tangled around his skis and his skis were tangled around his legs.
“Elmer, can you untwist the rope?” Linda bent over to see what she could do about removing the skis from his feet. And burst out laughing. She laughed until it hurt and still she couldn’t stop.
The resentment grew like mold on Ben’s face. “What’s so funny?”
“These are water skis,” Linda stuttered between giggles. “You’re snow skiing with water skis. Oy, anyhow, you look silly.”
“I do not. I was just having some fun, and they worked fine.” Elmer pulled the ropes away, and Ben tried to stand, but the skis were just too cumbersome and slick for him to gain any traction.
Linda took hold of the tip of one water ski.
Ben jerked his foot back. “Go away.”
Linda blew air from between her lips. “Let me help you get those things off, or your hinnerdale is going to freeze. You don’t enjoy sitting in the snow, do you?”
He narrowed his eyes in her direction. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I only make fun of people when they deserve it, like when they do something deerich and immature and suffer the consequences. You have to admit you look wonderful funny.”
“Leave me alone,” Ben hissed. He made a feeble attempt to reach out and pull off one of his skis, but he couldn’t bend his leg close enough to get a good grip on the ski.
Linda sighed loudly. “Ach, don’t be such a baby. Elmer Lee, come on this side.” She wrapped both hands around the tip of Ben’s left ski and tugged firmly. Elmer Lee did the same with the right ski.
Ben gasped as the left water ski came off his foot, along with his black boot. Fortunately, his stocking stayed put, though he did have a rather large hole where the big toe stuck out. Elmer Lee managed to get the other ski off without removing Ben’s boot. Linda yanked the boot from the rubber toehold of the ski and handed it to Ben. He took it grudgingly and without looking at her, quickly put it back on his foot, and pushed himself from the ground. His church trousers were soaked, and his coat and mittens were caked with snow and ice. And his hat! Oh, dear. Linda couldn’t keep a giggle from tripping from her lips.
He turned on her as if she had attacked him with a knife. “What is so funny?”
She couldn’t speak without erupting with laughter, so she clapped her hand over her mouth and simply pointed to his head.
Elmer Lee still had the power of speech. “The brim of your hat is ripped.” It was literally hanging on to the crown by a thread.
Ben reached up, grabbed his hat by the crown, and snatched it off his head. The force of Ben’s tug was too much for the brim. It gave up its hold, ripped from the crown, and fell to the ground.
Elmer Lee and Linda burst into laughter. Ben’s face grew even redder. Linda felt a tiny bit bad about laughing, but Ben Kiem had gotten his just desserts. Besides, the more she tried to suppress her laughter, the worse it got.
He tossed what was left of his hat into the snow. “That’s not very Christian of you to laugh at me.”
She was sorely tempted to scold him, but he’d probably had enough of her disapproval for one day. “Don’t look so sour. A merry heart does gute like a medicine.”
Mamm walked toward Ben carrying the shards of their taillight in her outstretched hand. “You broke our buggy. And for sure and certain, you’re going to pay for it.”
Stiffly, Ben bent over and picked up his skis and his rope. “You should ask the man that made that buggy for you to pay. The taillight wasn’t attached securely.”
“Don’t blame other people for what you’ve wrought yourself,” Mamm said, shaking her finger at him as if he were a naughty toddler.
Ben took a step back and grunted. “Okay, okay. I’ll pay to have it fixed. You don’t have to get all worked up. I was only having some fun.”
Mamm wasn’t going to let him get away with that excuse. She never let anyone get away with anything if she could help it. “Fun at another person’s expense is selfishness.”
Ben shot a piercing look at Linda. “Or spite,” he muttered.
Linda raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t being spiteful when she’d laughed at him, was she? Mostly she was amused. And maybe a little bit smug that Ben Kiem hadn’t gotten away with his mischief making like he usually did.
Mamm pinned Ben with a withering stare. “Not only did you break our buggy, but you were skiing on the Sabbath. Sabbath breaking is a serious sin, Ben Kiem. Are you going to tell your dat or should I?”
Ben’s face seemed to lose all color. Ben’s dat was the bishop, and if there was anybody who shouldn’t break the Sabbath, it was the bishop’s son. But like a cornered wild animal, he decided to attack. “I’m in rumschpringe. I can make my own choices.”
Mamm shook her head. “Rumschpringe doesn’t give you leave to break the commandments. Best to confess your sin to your dat and face the consequences like a man.”
Ben paused and pressed his lips together, as if giving Mamm’s advice serious thought. Or maybe he was contemplating how much trouble he’d be in when his dat found out about what he’d done.
Linda didn’t feel quite so smug anymore. Maybe Ben really was sorry. And maybe she could try to make him feel better. “If you really want to ski, you need the right skis. Cross-country skis are best for . . .”
Ben scowled. “I don’t care.”
Okay then. She’d let him figure out his own skis.
Mamm frowned. “Skiing is folly, Linda. A waste of your money, if you ask me.”
Linda grinned at her mother. They’d had some version of this conversation more times than Linda could count. Worrying and fussing was how Mamm showed her love. “Now, Mamm, I need sunshine and fresh air. You can’t put a price on that.”
Mamm harrumphed. “Need fresh air? Milk the cow or feed the chickens. Don’t come crying to me if you get killed by a bear or drown in a river or fall off a cliff.”
Linda giggled. “If any of those things happen, I promise not to bother you with it.”
Mamm cracked a smile and waved her hand in Linda’s direction. “Ach, stop teasing me.”
Nora stuck her head out of the buggy. “It’s really getting cold in here.”
“Let’s go home,” Dat said. He put his arm around Elmer Lee and nudged him toward the buggy.
Mamm nodded as if everything had been settled to her satisfaction. “We will let you know how much it costs to fix the taillight. And you make certain you tell your dat what you’ve done today. Have a gute Sabbath.”
Ben probably wouldn’t have a gute Sabbath if he told his dat what he’d done, but Mamm probably hadn’t thought that through. Mamm, Dat, and Elmer Lee climbed into the buggy.
Without acknowledging Mamm’s gute wishes, Ben tucked his skis under one arm, turned away, and ambled down the road like a very old man.
“Wait,” Linda said, running after him. “Let us give you a ride back.”
“Nae, denki,” Ben said. “I’ll walk.”
She hadn’t expected him to say yes, but she’d done the right thing by asking. It was cold, he was soaking wet, and it was a long way back. He’d skied for at least a quarter mile.
She shrugged. “Okay. Let me know if you want to go cross-country skiing sometime. It’s fun, and it’s slower than downhill skiing so you’re less likely to wipe out.”
He shuffled down the road. “I’d rather go to the dentist,” he said, without looking back.
He was obviously still mad at her, because who in their right mind would rather see the dentist than go skiing? At least she could say she’d done her best.
Ben tried to walk without limping, at least until Linda Eicher’s buggy was out of sight. He wasn’t going to give that snobby girl the satisfaction of knowing that he’d hurt himself. He’d been laughed at enough for one day. And he wouldn’t have gotten into that buggy even if a pack of angry wolves had been chasing him. The righteous indignation in there would have smothered him.
He glanced behind him. The buggy turned down the road. Now he could limp as badly as he wanted to. His leg burned something wonderful, and his shoulder would for sure and certain have a big bruise. He’d fallen on something hard and unforgiving under the snow, and now his whole body screamed in agony. After less than a hundred steps, he started wishing he’d taken Linda Eicher up on her offer of a ride home. His trousers were soaking wet, he didn’t have a hat, and his shin hurt so badly, he seriously didn’t know how much farther he could go.
If Linda Eicher hadn’t laughed at him, he wouldn’t have refused a ride in her buggy. His predicament was all her fault.
Needing to lighten his load, he tossed Wally’s skis and the rope off to the side of the road. He could come back for them later when the pain didn’t make him feel like passing out. Something wet and sticky felt as if it was pooling at the bottom of his boot. A dizzying sight met him when he lifted his trouser leg. Oh, sis yuscht. An angry gash at least five inches long and who-knew-how deep ran down the length of his shin. The front of his trouser leg was soaked with blood, but Ben hadn’t noticed before because his trousers were black and already wet. A long rip in the fabric showed where something sharp had torn through his trousers and cut his leg. He turned and squinted in the direction of where he’d fallen. Smears of dark red blood stained the snow. Neither he nor any of the Eichers had noticed. He’d also left a trail of tiny drops of blood on the snowy road. Oh, sis yuscht. Skiing behind a buggy was the stupidest idea he and Wally Bontrager had ever thought up.
But Wally had dared him to do it, and Ben was never one to back down from a dare.
Ben shivered violently, whether from the cold or his own stupidity, he wasn’t exactly sure. He peered down the road toward the Troyers’ house where they had held services today. It looked so far away. Like Linda had said, he’d gone a long way on those skis. One side of his mouth curled upward. It had felt like flying.
Where was Wally? Only two buggies were still parked in front of the Troyers’ house. Most people had already gone home. Not wanting his parents to see what he was about to do with Wally’s skis on the Sabbath, he had told his parents not to wait for him. He often walked home with Wally and Simeon. Ben heaved a great sigh. If he went to the Troyers’ house, he’d have to confess to breaking the Sabbath and breaking the Eichers’ taillight. But could he make it all the way home before either freezing or bleeding to death?
He glanced down at his leg. He wasn’t going to bleed to death, but it sure hurt something wonderful. He needed to get out of the wind and prop up his leg, maybe take a nice warm bath and then wash his clothes in the sink so Mamm would never know about his foolishness. It would be harder to hide the seven-inch tear in his trousers. Did he even know where Mamm kept her needles and thread? Could he figure out how to sew even if he found them?
To sew! His new sister-in-law, Esther, knew how to sew. According to his bruder Levi, Esther was one of the best quilters in the country. Surely she would repair his trousers without telling Mamm or Dat. Esther was nice like that and so was Levi. Neither of them would tell on Ben, and their house was closer. Easier than limping all the way home.
Ben glanced to the north. Would it be faster to cut across three pastures, wading through knee-deep snow, or to take the long route by way of the snow-packed road? He’d already made one stupid decision today. He wouldn’t make another. The road it was, and he’d have to hurry. He sucked in a hard breath in anticipation of the pain. It was going to be a long fifteen minutes, but he’d brought this on himself. No doubt, Linda Eicher would say it was exactly what he deserved.
Every step was agony, but the bitter cold propelled him forward. How deerich he had been to hitch a ride behind Eicher’s buggy without planning on a way to get back. Wally had probably been cornered by his dat and ordered to go home before he could help Ben. He was on his own.
After ten minutes of half limping, half dragging himself down the road, Ben was almost breathless with relief at the sight of Levi and Esther’s house. He had never seen a more beautiful sight than the tidy, red-brick house where his bruder and schwester-in-law lived with their adopted daughter, Winnie. Wisps of smoke curled from the chimney, and tiny icicles hung from the seams of the rain gutters. Those leaks would need to be caulked come spring. Ben would have to do it because Levi shouldn’t be getting up on ladders now that he had a family to take care of.
The nearness of the house gave Ben new purpose. He limped double-time down the road and practically ran across the yard to their porch. He stopped himself right before he knocked. Even though he wanted to pound the door down and get into the warmth of the house, he didn’t want to wake Winnie if she was taking a nap. He knocked softly, waited for a few seconds, then knocked again louder.
Levi opened the door, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “What has happened? You look froze to death.” He ushered Ben into the house and closed the door behind him. “Cum, cum,” he said, leading Ben into the kitchen.
Winnie sat in her highchair with spaghetti sauce smeared all over her face. “Beh!” Winnie squealed, reaching for Ben with her tomatoey hands. Beh was how she said his name, and it was actually the only word she knew. Winnie loved Ben, even if everyone else thought he was a nuisance.
Esther stood at the stove stirring a pot of liquid that smelled wonderful gute, like Christmas morning in a warm house. Ben’s sister-in-law always had something tucked behind her ear. Today it was a plastic spoon. She turned around to look at him, and her eyes flashed in alarm. No doubt, he was a shocking sight. “Ach, du lieva, Ben! Ach, du lieva. Sit down, sit down right now.”
Levi pulled a chair out from under the table, and Ben sort of fell into it. His pants were so stiff, he couldn’t bend his knees. Esther clucked her tongue, bent over him, and took his face in her hands. He hissed. The touch of her warm skin felt like a hot iron against his cheeks.
“Your face is like ice,” she said. She curled her fingers around his ears. “And no hat. Your ears are bright red. They must ache something wonderful.”
“Can I have a blanket?”
“No blanket for you.” Esther glanced at Levi. “He needs a warm bath, but not too warm or it will burn his skin.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a cooking thermometer. “Maybe a hundred degrees? Like we do for Winnie’s bath.”
Levi took the thermometer and marched down the hall to the bathroom.
Esther gasped. “There’s blood.” She turned her head in the direction Levi had just gone. “Levi, there’s blood.”
Levi shot out of the bathroom like a boomerang. “What?”
Esther pointed to three tiny drops on the floor. “Blood.”
“Sorry to get your floor dirty,” Ben said. “It should have stopped bleeding by now.”
“Do you think I care about my floor at a time like this?” Esther knelt down next to him. “Let me see.” She made a face and glanced up at him. “Left leg?”
He nodded then tensed when she reached out.
“Not to worry. I’ll be careful. I just want to see what sort of mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Ben gripped the armrests and shot a pleading look at Levi. “Don’t tell Dat.”
Levi didn’t reply, just watched as Esther studied Ben’s leg. She raised her hand and hovered it over his leg—thank Derr Herr she didn’t touch it—then untied the sticky, blood-caked laces of his boot. She turned to Levi. “Can you help?”
Levi jumped as if he’d been shot from a rifle. He knelt down beside Esther, cupped his hands around the heel of Ben’s boot and slowly pulled it off. The motion hurt a little, but mostly because his foot ached with cold.
“You’ve got a hole in your stocking,” Esther said, the hint of a smile playing at her lips. “Why is it that boys never care about their stockings? It’s an embarrassment to mothers everywhere.” She gently pulled off his stocking and nudged his stiff pant leg up to his knee. It couldn’t help but scrape against the gash in his leg.
He grunted in pain. Linda Eicher would say he deserved it.
A sound of distress came from the back of Esther’s throat. “Ach, Ben. You got yourself but good.” She looked at Levi. “We should take him to the hospital.”
Ben’s teeth started chattering. The sight of his leg caked with dried blood made him dizzy, not to mention that the cold had finally seeped into his bones. He could sure enough use a smoke right now. “I don’t need a hospital. It’s not that bad.”
“Ha,” Levi said, showing a lot less concern for his seriously wounded bruder than he should have. Something like a smile crept onto his face. “Your teeth are going to vibrate right out of your head. You need a bath, then we can talk about the hospital. I’ll fill the tub.”
Nothing in the world sounded better than a warm bath. Ben’s joints were so stiff and cold, they felt as if they might snap if he tried to move them.
Esther turned off whatever was on the stove then removed his other boot, then his stocking. This one didn’t have a hole, but she didn’t mention it, even though he deserved a little credit for one good stocking. She helped him off with his coat and laid it on the table. “Do I need to walk you to the bathroom? Levi is going to need to help you off with your trousers and such.”
For sure and certain, Levi was going to need to help. Ben’s fingers were so stiff, he couldn’t even make a fist. “I can walk, but I’ll get blood on your floor.”
Esther scrunched her lips to one side of her face. “Don’t you just love how easy it is to clean linoleum?”
Ben cracked a smile. “I’ve never cleaned it, so I wouldn’t know.”
“Ben Kiem, it’s high time you did more to help your mamm around the house.” Esther offered both hands and pulled Ben to his feet. The kitchen spun in front of his eyes for a few seconds. It was a gute thing the bathroom wasn’t far down the hall. Esther must have sensed how unstable he was, because she draped his arm around her shoulder and toddled with him to the bathroom.
The bath was pure torture and pure heaven at the same time. His skin stung something wonderful when the water touched it, but then the warmth seeped into his body and he melted like a bar of chocolate on a summer day. He washed his hair twice and gingerly washed his leg with strong soap and a washcloth. By the time he finished, the bathwater was pink.
Levi brought Ben some clean clothes and a fluffy white towel that smelled like a warm spring breeze. He didn’t deserve a warm spring breeze, but he certainly wasn’t going to refuse it. He put on Levi’s blue shirt and a pair of Levi’s underwear and wrapped the towel around his waist. It was embarrassing for his sister-in-law to see him without trousers, but they’d only get in the way when she fixed his leg. If she fixed his leg. She might refuse to help him and insist he go to the hospital.
His wound had started bleeding again when he’d gotten into the tub, and blood continued to . . .
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The Amish Quiltmaker's Unruly In-Law
Jennifer Beckstrand
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