CHAPTER 9
John Beider was dressing to go out that morning to look for Matthew. The storm had gone, leaving a dazzling display of white against the rising dawn of a blue sky. He looked up from tying his boots when a loud knock sounded at the back kitchen door.
His heart dropped when he thought it might be news of Matthew. Ellie hurried past him to open the door and an odd, bundled trio stepped into the kitchen. Scarves and hats came off and John stood with one boot in his hand to stare at Bishop Umble, Matthew, and finally . . . Luke Lapp.
John cleared his throat, focusing on his sohn. “Matthew, we’ve been worried. . . .” John, usually never at a loss for words, trailed off in uncertainty.
“I’m fine, Daed.” But Matthew seemed too serious, almost subdued, and John faced the bishop, ignoring Luke Lapp.
“What’s the matter here?” John asked as Ellie slipped past him to gather coffee cups.
“Uh, Frau Beider,” the bishop began. “There’s no need for coffee. Perhaps if you might give us men a few moments alone.”
John saw Ellie nod wordlessly and slip into the bedroom, pulling a reluctant Simon from the breakfast table with her.
“Well?” John asked again when the bedroom door had been closed.
“I found your buwe here in—in a bed with my daughter.”
In one distant part of his mind, John heard the old cadence of his one-time friend’s voice and knew it was something he’d recognize for all his days, but another area of his brain caught the actual words and he bristled at the accusation.
“What’s that you say?”
“We were bundling, Daed. That was all.” John saw Matthew give Luke a direct gaze, and he recognized the tiredness in his sohn’s voice, as if he’d pled the same words many times.
“Of course that was all, Matthew. As you say,” John snapped as he dropped his boot and straightened his back.
“The buwe was naked. Bundling is no longer practiced and is to be done fully clothed anyway. He has dishonored my girl,” Luke bit out.
Bishop Umble raised a placating hand when John took a step forward. “Now, Luke Lapp, show reason. Matthew could not have remained in freezing clothing and Grossmuder May gave her approval to the situation.”
“Grossmuder May?” John asked. “Why were you up there?”
“He’s been secretly courting Laurel for months. But he’ll marry her today, so help me.” Luke looked like he wanted to shake Matthew, and John felt his ire rise higher.
“Matthew will marry whom he chooses.”
“Daed, I choose Laurel. I love her. I always have.” Matthew spoke earnestly.
Luke Lapp snorted as if in disbelief and John clenched his fists. “Look, Deacon Lapp, if you have something to say about my buwe, then say it out. Right now!”
“He’s dishonorable.”
“Ha! But he’s decent enough to be willing to give his life away to a daughter of yours when he could choose from any of—”
Bishop Umble shook his head and laid his aged hands on the shoulders of the two men, who’d inched fighting close. “Enough. We’ve heard Matthew. He loves Laurel. The two even came to see me to find a way to make their fathers see reason. But you both choose pride and spite.... You both choose poorly.”
John swung away, not wanting to listen when his anger was so intense. He grabbed his sohn’s hand. “You do not have to marry, Matthew.”
“He does and he will,” Luke growled. “The wedding is set for two o’clock today at my home. I expect all to be put to right when Derr Herr gives his blessing to this unholy union.” He turned with a final sweeping glare and stomped out the door.
Bishop Umble paused. “All will be well, sohn.” He patted Matthew’s shoulder and nodded at John. “Think, John Beider. Think . . .”
Then the old man left and closed the door gently behind him.
John wordlessly turned to his sohn and caught him close. Matthew didn’t resist, and John wished fervently that he could make things right for his buwe, the way he had when Matthew had been a boppli, but Matt was a man now—it was as simple as that. A man and soon to be wed to his enemy’s daughter. And despite the bishop’s admonition, it was more than John could stand to think about....
Laurel felt bedraggled by the hike down the mountain, and she clutched the Christmas-roses quilt in front of her like a shield as she entered the kitchen and met Aenti June’s searching gaze.
There seemed little point in speaking anything less than the truth, so Laurel dropped down at the kitchen table, put her arm around Lucy, and managed a tired smile. “Well, I’m to marry Matthew Beider this afternoon at two o’clock.”
For once, Aenti June appeared nonplussed, and Laurel waited while Lucy gave a happy squeal. “So, you told Dat? And he said jah?”
“Something like that, Lucy. Wherever did you get the kitten?” Laurel reached her hand out from under the quilt to pet the small creature.
Lucy gave her a less-than-obvious wink. “From the barn last night. I thought we could maybe . . . share her. I named her Friend.”
“That’s nice.”
Aenti June exploded. “Wait a moment.... What did you say?”
Laurel looked wearily at her aenti. She felt awful about the way her fater’s face had been set as they’d left the cabin—in despair, anger, sadness—all disappointment in her. It was not the way she wanted to start a life with Matthew.
“I’m marrying Matthew Beider. Dat found us together at Grossmuder May’s. . . .”
Aenti June blustered. “Do you want to marry this buwe?”
“ ’Course she does,” Lucy answered stoutly. “She’s been seeing him forever and I know he loves her.... He’s even her frieeend,” the child finished, emphasizing her last word and looking down at the kitten.
Laurel sighed. “It’s true. I love him dearly, but Fater . . .”
Aenti June seemed to rally. “Your fater will accept it in time, but right now, it’s nearly eight a.m. and you’re telling me we’re having a wedding in six hours? Why, we’ve got to get this place cleaned and I need to make a cake at least. And you need a blue dress!”
“I think it will be a very quiet wedding,” Laurel pointed out. “No guests but the Beiders and the bishop and his frau, maybe.”
“Huh! Only the Beiders . . . do you think I’d have those people in this haus without it looking just so? Now, you go to your room and get your work dress on. We’ll save time for you to bathe and do up your hair afresh. And go through your hope chest to find what you’ll be taking.”
Aenti June stopped still after she spoke, and Laurel realized the full import of her words. What I’ll be taking . . . away. To live at the Beiders’, where my fater is hated. Why have I never thought beyond the wedding to the tradition of the bride going to the groom’s home to live until a new home can be made?
Something of what she was thinking must have shown in her face because Lucy tugged hard on her arm. “Where are you going, Laurel? To Matthew’s? But I’ll miss you,” the little girl whimpered, and Laurel felt like crying herself at the suddenness of everything.
Aenti June dabbed at her eyes with her apron and gave an enormous sniff; then she reached to pat Laurel’s hand. “Mind, now, Lucy, don’t upset your sister on her wedding day. You’ll see her—we’ll see her, anytime we like.”
Anytime . . . Laurel repeated in her mind, praying that all might go well.
Matthew winced as he tightened his boot strings, and Simon must have caught his expression.
“What’s wrong with your feet?”
“Nearly frostbitten—they’re still sore a bit.”
Simon huffed. “Is a girl really worth all this trouble?”
Matthew grinned despite his tiredness. “You’ll see one day, little bruder. Now bundle up. We’re going to the Kauffmanns’ store.”
“What for?”
“Wedding coats. I expect you to stand up with me.”
“Me? Really?” Simon pushed his glasses farther up on the bridge of his nose and smiled from ear to ear.
“Jah, you. Who else would I have but my bruder?”
“Whoo-ee!”
“Simon Beider,” his mother admonished from the doorway. “Stop screaming and step out for a minute, will you? I want to talk with Matthew alone.”
Simon bounced off the bed. “All right. I’ll go get my scarf and stuff.”
Matthew studied his mother’s face when his bruder had gone. “I’m sorry, Mamm,” he said finally. “I didn’t expect things to turn out like this.”
“How did you expect them to turn out?” Her voice was curious. “Were you simply going to allow the deacon to announce the impending marriage after a service and surprise us? Shame us because you didn’t trust us enough to let us know the girl you love?”
Matthew hung his head and his mother came and sat down next to him on the bed. “Matthew, I don’t want to hurt you, but it is to be a mother’s joy to help with the planning and preparations for a sohn’s marriage.”
His head began to ache and he ran his hands through his dark hair. “Mamm, it was never you. . . . It’s Dat. I thought—with the feuding—well, that I’d never gain his blessing. I didn’t know what to do.”
His mother was silent for a few very long, uncomfortable moments. Then she slapped her hands down on her knees. “Well, we’d best get moving. Since you normally sleep with Simon, I’ll air out the guest room for you and Laurel. I know you’ll be anxious to have a home of your own kumme spring, but we’ll get along all right with Derr Herr’s help.”
“Danki, Mamm. I love you so much.” He leaned over and gave her a quick buss on the cheek. She reached to pat his face, then slipped her hand down to lay some money in his palm.
“I want you to take this, Matthew. I know you have your own savings, but I’d like to help with the coats and the fast tailoring Ben Kauffmann’s going to have to do.”
“Mamm, I can’t . . . really.”
She rose to her feet. “You can and you will. Now get a move on. You’ve only a few hours.”
Matthew smiled and nodded, then watched her bustle from the room. He closed his eyes and prayed silently. Maybe things will go better than I expect....