CHAPTER 15
“Well, Lucy, your dream was indeed from Derr Herr.” Luke looked down at his little daughter as she held the kitten box close in the confines of the sled.
“So you’re not mad at me for running away?”
Luke had to laugh, a free sound that gave him refreshment inside . John Beider held out his hand to me in goodwill.... “Nee, little one. I’m not mad, but please don’t make a habit of running. My heart could not take it.”
Lucy snuggled close to him. “I promise to be gut, Daddi.”
Luke smiled down at her. “And I promise to listen more closely when you tell me that you have a message from Gott.”
He turned his focus back to the snowy road and remembered that he’d have to tell June she’d be having five unexpected guests for supper. The thought made him laugh again and he felt like a much younger man inside.
Laurel laughed aloud in the clear mountain air as she darted behind a pine tree only to be caught in Matthew’s strong arms as he swung her off the ground for a lingering kiss.
“Matthew,” she protested when he let her catch her breath. “Simon will see.”
“Simon saw,” the younger boy called from beside a nearby tree, and Laurel smiled at his dry tone.
She nuzzled closer to Matthew’s chest, still filled with disbelief at her fater’s show of goodwill that morning.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Matthew said, resting his chin atop her bonnet. “I can’t fathom it either. But I wish . . .” He stopped, and she tilted her head backwards to stare up at him.
“What?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Well, I wish that you might have been able to have a big wedding. I know a girl must dream of those things.”
“I dreamed only of you, my love,” she whispered. “And I wouldn’t trade our wedding for all the guests and gifts in the world.”
He rewarded her answer with another deep kiss, and she heard Simon snort nearby.
“Look, can we stop the mush and pick a tree? I’m freezing.”
“Ach,” Laurel exclaimed. “Let’s get two trees—one for each home. The Beiders’ and the Lapps’.”
“Great idea,” Matthew said, grinning.
“Oh, boy.” Simon shook his head. “Jah, it’s a great idea, but you’d think that, Matt, even if she asked to go round up ostriches with orange plumes.”
Laurel lifted her nose and suppressed a giggle. “I’ll have you know, Simon Beider, dearest bruder-in-law, that I’d only ask to look for purple-plumed ostriches and never during a Christmas tree outing.”
She was secretly pleased to see Simon smile. She so wanted her new family to accept her. Then she caught Matthew’s hand and pulled him into a clearing of long-needled pines.
“Here we are. Any of these would be perfect. And the long needles will hold the bread-dough decorations nicely.” She ran a gloved hand caressingly down a fragrant tree branch.
In the end, they chose two trees that barely fit in the back of the sleigh, and Laurel knew they’d have to wrestle the pines into the doors of the cabin homes. But she believed in big trees to match the ebullient spirit she felt inside at this time of year and in especial thanksgiving for the healing going on in their fathers’ hearts.
John watched in fascination as his new daughter-in-law twisted the ornament bread dough with deft and artistic hands. In the past, Ellie had normally used cookie cutters and food coloring to paint the ornaments, leaving the buwes not all that much interested in decorating. But Laurel had an infectious smile and encouraged everyone to try their hand at making more individualized ornaments.
“At home,” the girl chattered happily, “we paint them after with a coat of lacquer and some of the ornaments have lasted for years.”
“What a gut idea!” Ellie exclaimed, still hoarse, but up and joining in the fun.
Soon, an odd but creative assortment of decorations was spread out on cookie sheets. John watched Laurel take Matthew’s hand and guide it to leave a thumbprint next to hers in the dough. Then she carefully etched in the date of their wedding. A small straw was used to leave a hole in the top of each piece, where ribbon would be tied later.
John was surprised to see how deeply Simon concentrated on his piece of dough and his penknife. He soon bashfully revealed a full wreath, with leaves neatly displayed, as well as holly berries and a bow. Then the ornaments went into the oven and were properly painted with food coloring to finish.
While the decorations baked, Ellie served a quick lunch of chicken salad, dumpling soup, and fresh lemonade. Then, Laurel gathered them all near as she, with simple garden gloves on, threaded holly leaves onto fishing line to create a full, beautiful garland to place atop the mantle of the fireplace.
John was happy to see that Ellie showed genuine joy in Laurel’s work. He imagined it did not always go so well when a new woman was about in the kitchen or adding to family traditions. But he was blessed in his home, his table, and now his new relationship with Luke. John still had no true idea how he’d gotten up the nerve to extend his hand to Luke. It truly had to be Gott’s work, but now that it was done, and Luke had responded in kind, John thought of all the time they must catch up on. And he also realized how foolish he’d been to sacrifice a friend over a shotgun so many long Christmases ago.
Once the decorating and the afternoon chores were done, Matthew discreetly sought out Laurel in their room.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, closing the door behind him.
“Ach, mending my gut apron for tonight.” She bent forward in the small rocker near the window to get closer to the fading light.
She glanced up at him briefly. “What are you doing?”
He pretended to consider. “I did my chores, made my ornaments, had my lunch, listened to my wife’s instructions . . . and now, I think, we should do something together.”
“What is that?” Her pretty brow wrinkled in thought as if trying to remember something she might have forgotten, and he took a step backwards to the bed. He caught the top quilt of Christmas roses in his hand and flung it out onto the pristine hardwoods with a gentle flair and an arched brow.
“Matthew,” she protested in hushed shock. “It’s broad daylight.”
“It is not,” he contradicted, raising a hand to the fading afternoon outside the window.
He was pleased to see her blush and he moved to take the apron and needle from her carefully, laying them aside on a small worktable. “Kumme, lie with me, my frau.”
“But what will your parents think, and Simon?”
He grinned. “Simon’s currying the sled horse, Mamm is rebraiding her hair, and Daed is dozing in front of the fire. Any other protests?”
She rose to her full, slight height and straightened her spine, which pushed her breasts out delightfully. “I am not protesting. I know my duty as a wife.”
“Duty?” he scoffed. “Duty on the second day of our marriage?” He made himself take on a discouraged expression. “And to think that I believed you enjoyed our, um—time on the floor.”
She laughed then, moving toward him. “I suppose I do sound a bit prudish. I expect it’s only the second year of marriage before a wife may mention duty.”
He enjoyed her teasing and gave her a wolfish smile. “My love, so long as I have will in my body, what we do together will never be duty to you, and never be less than all the pleasure I can give.”
“Is that a promise?” she breathed as he caught her close.
He kissed her until she felt like melting beeswax inside and would have lain with him anywhere.
“That, Laurel Beider, is my word of honor.”