Micah paced to the end of his workshop and gazed out the window overlooking the house. He and Thomas had been hard at work over an hour and still there was no sign of Abigail. It wasn’t like her not to show up.
Just then, a buggy pulled into his driveway. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he told Thomas, who was adding more wood to the kiln. Micah jogged up to the driver’s side of the buggy and stopped short at the sight of Abigail’s brother, David.
“Guder mariye,” David said.
Elizabeth climbed out from the passenger side.
“Mariye,” he muttered, turning toward Elizabeth. “Is something wrong with Abigail?” She’d appeared fine at church yesterday, although he never had a chance to ask if she was feeling better from her bout with the flu.
“Nett that I know of,” she replied with a shrug. “She asked me to sit with your grandmother today. You do still need someone, right?”
“Jah.” Micah had hoped to get the bulk of the work done by the end of the day.
“I have a few errands to run, so I’ll catch up with you later,” David said.
Micah nodded. He turned to Elizabeth as David’s buggy pulled away. “Abigail didn’t say why she couldn’t come today?”
Elizabeth shrugged again. “She pulled the unfinished horse blanket out of the closet and asked if I had any unused material or an old dress she could have.”
“I thought maybe since she was sick the other day . . .”
“I don’t know, maybe she is. She moped most of yesterday.”
Moped? That wasn’t like Abigail. Perhaps she’d overdone it by attending services and she’d relapsed. She certainly wasn’t someone to shirk work obligations. After all, she had sent Elizabeth in her place. But something Elizabeth said about Abigail wanting to work on an unfinished horse blanket niggled at him. Maybe she wasn’t sick after all but was planning to follow through with purchasing Cactus. Would she ignore her father’s wishes?
He went inside with Elizabeth and introduced her to Mammi, who had many of the same questions about Abigail’s whereabouts. Then he tracked along the snowy path back to the shop. Maybe if he worked fast, he could visit her later this evening and get to the bottom of things.
Abigail cut the dress Elizabeth had given her into strips. She’d never used a dress to make quilt binding, but she didn’t have much choice. With only a few dollars to her name, she couldn’t afford new material. Abigail spread the horse quilt out on the floor. It was larger than a full-size bed. She threaded the needle.
Her little sister Sadie poked her head into the room. “Do you have a pencil I could use? I’ve worn mine down to the nub and I need one for schul.”
Abigail motioned to the table beside the bed. “There should be one in the drawer.”
Sadie skirted the material on the floor so she didn’t step on it. “Your blanket is big.”
“Jah. Even looks big for a horse, doesn’t it?”
Peter called for Sadie to hurry, a first for one of the boys to be eager to go to school. Sadie grabbed a pencil from the drawer and rushed out the door.
Abigail began sewing the strips of material together. She jabbed her finger with the needle several times trying to hurry. God had given her a purpose for the quilt—or so she believed after the dream she had last night.
Abigail steadily stitched the material in place, turning the strip just right to miter the corners. Without having anyone to talk to, she progressed quickly. She stitched the two ends together.
Hours later, she rubbed the kinks in her neck muscles. “Lord, if this is Your will, please give me favor for borrowing Daed’s buggy.” She stood, folded the quilt, then went downstairs.
Seated at the kitchen table, Mamm looked up from darning socks. “Are you feeling better?”
Abigail nodded.
“I have a pot of stew and biscuits ready for lunch.” Mamm glanced at the wall clock. “Your father and David should be in any minute. They’re working on something privately out in the barn. I think I might be getting a new rocking chair for Christmas.”
Her mother had hinted ever since the leg on the old one cracked. Their family made most of their gifts for each other and had fun teasing one another about the surprise. Don’t lament over what’s already done, she chided. Needs must always come before wants, even if it’s another person’s need. And Malinda’s family needed the money.
Lord, You gave me peace last night about giving the money away. I don’t want to grumble or have any regrets about it now. I did the right thing.
“I think your daed is trying his best to cheer me up. This will be the first Christmas without mei sister and her family.”
“Have you talked with Aenti Doreen lately?”
Mamm frowned. “You know I haven’t.”
“I just thought with Christmas a few days from nau maybe . . .”
Daed and David were in the midst of a friendly debate over fertilizers when they came in from the barn.
Mamm set her sewing aside and went to the stove.
Abigail loitered by the kitchen entry, listening to her daed and brother’s conversation as they removed their coats and hats. Daed chuckled over something David said. Abigail smiled. Asking to borrow his horse and buggy was easier when he was in a jovial mood. She scooted over to the counter beside her mother as they approached the kitchen.
Daed tilted his head and drew in a breath through his nose, as he always did. “Something smells gut.”
Abigail recalled Micah’s expression the first day she had worked for him. She had pretended not to notice how long he’d looked at her. She pushed the thought aside. If he’d been interested in her, he would have never shot down her dream to own Cactus.
“Place the biscuits and butter on the table please,” Mamm said.
Abigail did as her mother requested. Once they were all seated and prayers were said, she turned toward her dad. “Would it be possible for me to borrow the buggy?”
David groaned. “I wanted to use it to go—”
Daed lifted his hand, cutting David off. Daed gave Abigail his attention. “Where do you plan to go?”
“Into town.” Daed’s scrutiny was difficult to avoid. She shifted on the chair. Did he know something about Gingerich’s?
Mamm broke the tension. “Don’t you think you should stay home and rest? You haven’t been feeling well lately.”
“I don’t have a fever.” Abigail briefly placed her hand on her forehead. “It’s just a sore throat,” she rasped.
“That sounds like laryngitis to me.” Mamm took a sip of tea.
David lifted his fork and paused before it reached his mouth. “Well, if she’s nett going to use the buggy, can I?”
Daed shook his head at David, then turned to her. “Abigail, you can use it.”
“Danki, I won’t be long,” she said, more for her brother’s benefit. She soaked the corner of a biscuit in the stew gravy, then took a bite. She loved the flavor of the beef and the fresh vegetables they had canned from the garden last summer.
Daed and David’s conversation about farming continued. Mamm talked about a new recipe for turkey stuffing she planned to make for Christmas, and Abigail offered to make the sweet-potato casserole since everyone liked it last year. In a short time, the Christmas menu was planned as well as what they would bring to the district fellowship on Second Christmas. Abigail had always looked forward to the district fellowship on the day after Christmas, but this year, without Malinda, Abigail wasn’t sure she wanted to go.
“I’ll harness Molly,” Daed said after he finished eating. He and David returned to their project in the barn while Abigail and Mamm cleaned the dishes.
“I’ve started a list of things we’ll need,” her mother said. “I thought you could stop by Gingerich’s Market while you’re in town.”
“All right.” Abigail hadn’t planned on going to the market. She scanned the list. This wasn’t too bad. She should be able to get in and out quickly.
The pungent aroma of evergreen filled her senses as Abigail entered Gingerich’s Market. She hurried through the aisles, collecting the items on the list, then sucked in a breath when she approached the register.
“Abigail, I’m glad you came in.” Fran held up her index finger. “Wait here a minute.” She disappeared into the back room and returned a moment later with an envelope. “You left so suddenly the last time you were here that I didn’t have a chance to pay you for your baked goods.” She handed Abigail the envelope.
“Danki.” Abigail smiled. She still had a few Christmas gifts to buy.
“I’ve had several customers ask about your cookies and pies,” Fran said.
Abigail bit her tongue. She wanted to believe Fran was her friend and wouldn’t spread gossip, but she’d told Micah everything.
Fran rang up the items on the counter. “Hopefully, you’ll be able to sell your baked goods again soon.”
“Jah, maybe.” Christmas had always been her busiest time of the year. She missed those sales. Abigail paid for the grocery items. “I hope you have a merry Christmas.”
“You too. I’ll see you at the fellowship on Second Christmas.”
Abigail forced a smile and held it until she was out the door. This year wouldn’t be the normal joyful occasion. How could it be without a bu, a horse, or her cousin? She had nothing to be joyous about. She placed the sacks of groceries into the back of the buggy. After stopping to buy a new lantern for her mother and puzzles for Edith for Christmas, she searched for the homeless man.
Her gaze landed on a man slumped against the hardware store. He was wearing what looked like an Amish-made coat. Abigail grabbed the quilt from the bench and a few bananas from the bunch.
“Hello again,” she said, walking up to him.
He grumbled something undecipherable when she repeated the greeting. When he turned, she got a better look at the coat. Wool-lined, hand-sewn stitches. It was Amish made. She held up the bananas. “I thought you might like these.”
He peeled one and took a large bite.
She debated whether she should ask about the coat. It certainly wasn’t something he would have found in a Dumpster. “I thought you might need a blanket.” She set it down next to him. “I made it.”
He continued chewing.
She stood there a moment. “I should probably go. Nice visiting with you.” She turned away.
“Why are you doing this?” His words slurred. “Strangers go by me every day. They step over me and don’t acknowledge me, but you . . . you not only acknowledge me, you give me stuff.”
“God placed you on mei heart,” she answered.
“Why? I’m no one.”
“Jesus loves you.”
The man huffed. “I don’t know why He would.”
“His love is unconditional.”
“I heard that before.” He flung the banana peel across the alley, draped the quilt over his shoulders, then slumped against the brick building and closed his eyes.
Her shoulders slumped. Lord, why did You place him on mei heart if what I say makes no difference?