The Amish Quiltmaker's Unruly In-Law Read online

  Esther tilted her head to the other side, but her expression was unreadable. “Are you and Linda Eicher . . . you know. Are you a couple?”

  Ben grimaced with his whole face and made Esther giggle. “I just told you. She mocks people, and she thinks she’s better than everybody. I wouldn’t couple up with her if she was the only girl in Colorado.”

  Levi leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Maybe you better tell us what happened before we take you to the hospital.”

  Ben looked at Esther as if she could save him. “I’m not going to die. Just give me some gauze, and I’ll do it myself.”

  Esther laid a hand on his foot. Her hand was warm, and his feet were like icicles again. “You need stitches, Ben.”

  A wonderful, painful idea struck him right between the eyes. “You’re the best stitcher I know, Esther. You’ve got plenty of sharp needles and lots of thread. Why can’t you sew up my leg?”

  Esther laughed as if his request had taken her by surprise. For sure and certain it had. “Your dat would never speak to me again.”

  “Nae, he wouldn’t. You know what a liberal bishop he is. He lets you and Mammi play pickleball. He’s given permission for Mammi to lift weights and do yoga.”

  “In her dress,” Levi added, as if that made a difference.

  Esther leaned away from him and held up her hands as if stopping traffic. “Pickleball is a far cry from pretending to be a doctor.”

  “Levi is always telling me what a gute quilter you are. It wonders me if your stitches aren’t better than any doctor could make.”

  Levi shook his head. “Don’t drag me to your side of the argument, Ben. Esther is a gute quilter, but she’s not a doctor.”

  “That’s right,” Esther said. “I’d feel terrible if I left you with an ugly scar.”

  “Girls like scars. They get giddy when they see one,” Ben said. He lifted his sleeve to show Esther his bullet scar. Dat had yelled at him for three days about that one.

  Esther laughed, but her mirth came out more like a grunt, as if she was trying not to laugh but couldn’t help it. “I’m sure someday your fraa will be very impressed with that scar, but it only reminds me of the time you almost accidentally killed yourself.”

  Ben scrunched his lips together. “Ach vell, Wally almost accidentally killed me, but my friends are impressed at how close I came to death. It makes me more interesting. Just think how interesting I’ll be with a six-inch scar on my leg.”

  “The girls will come running,” Levi said drily.

  “And I deserve some thanks for helping you put up that barn last fall. Esther didn’t have a horse or a place to put it when you married her.”

  Levi made a face. “You and thirty other men from the gmayna. I’m not that grateful.”

  Ben snatched Esther’s hand and squeezed it. “Please, dear schwester. Please sew it up for me.”

  Esther expelled a long breath. “It’s going to hurt something wonderful.”

  “I can take the pain. I’m tough.”

  Esther grinned. “You are as charming as your big bruder.” She glanced at Levi. “And almost as handsome.”

  Levi laughed. “Don’t try to butter me up. I don’t think you should do it.”

  Esther wasn’t one of those fraaen who thought she had to obey her husband in everything he said. And Levi wasn’t one of those men who insisted his word was law. To Ben’s way of thinking, Levi and Esther’s way seemed like a better path for a marriage. When the husband was the only one who was allowed to be right, he was also the one who had the responsibility on his shoulders when he made the wrong decision. Ben couldn’t see but that it was nicer to share the blame and the credit, the good and the bad, with your fraa, instead of holding so tightly to your own authority that you squeezed everybody else out of your life.

  Esther was already on her feet, rummaging through the box of thread that sat on the floor next to the quilt. “I’ll do it on one condition.”

  Ben would have done almost anything to keep this last little mishap from his dat, but he stiffened anyway. What would Esther want him to do? “If you want me to babysit, I can do that. I don’t mind babysitting Winnie. She adores me.”

  “You already babysit for us plenty. And that’s too easy.”

  “You want to ask me something hard?”

  Esther picked a spool of thread and a needle from a little box. “I’m going to have to sterilize this.” She sat back down and rummaged through the first aid kit. “There should be some alcohol wipes in here.” She looked up and smiled one of her sweetest, most devious smiles at Ben. “In exchange for me using my excellent sewing skills on your leg and possibly giving you the most brag-worthy scar in the history of scars, you’re going to drive Linda Eicher home from the next gathering.”

  Ben groaned. Was it too late to choose the hospital option?

  Chapter Three

  Linda donned her bonnet, her rubber boots, and her coat and tromped outside to feed the chickens. There was still a lot of snow in their yard, but it was a warm enough day that the icicles were melting off the house. The water droplets made a pleasant drip-drip sound on the ground as Linda made her way to the chicken coop. Dat had built a clever little door in the small coop so the chickens could get in, but big dogs and coyotes couldn’t squeeze through. Not that there were any big dogs in the neighborhood, but Linda did occasionally see a coyote prowling around.

  She stopped in the barn for a pan and feed, called her chickens, and scattered feed around the coop. One by one, the four Rhode Island Reds poked their heads out of the coop and came waddling down the ramp for their breakfast. Once they were distracted, Linda lifted the roof and collected their eggs in her basket. She closed the coop and took the feed pan back to the barn. As she did every morning but Sunday, Linda walked around to the front of the house to get the mail.

  Linda gasped. Splashes of red, blue, and purple color covered the snow in her front yard as if someone had spilled pitchers of colorful juice during the night. What in the world?

  It was . . . it looked like some sort of a picture. Linda walked down the gravel driveway and stood next to the mailbox to get a better look. Her heart skipped a beat. It was a big purple head, probably eight feet in diameter, with red circles for eyes, a green triangle nose, and a blue gaping mouth with pointy purple teeth. Beneath the head in big block letters was her name: LINDA.

  The painter had managed to spray the whole picture on her front yard without marring it with footprints, except for two prints right in the middle of the triangle nose.

  Oh, sis yuscht. How annoying.

  There was only one person she knew who could be so spiteful and childish. For goodness sake, she’d laughed at him and called him silly. Was he really that thin-skinned? When Mamm saw it, she’d give the bishop a report for sure and certain.

  If Mamm saw it.

  The fewer people who knew, the fewer people to get worked up about it. Nobody but Linda had to know about this. Ach vell, Linda and dumm Ben Kiem. What was he, an eleven-year-old? Linda huffed out a breath, set her basket on the ground next to the mailbox, and stomped on the L with her boot. Then she stamped down her whole name until there was nothing left but a mash of slushy color. She ran around the circle, stomping the purple paint into slush, then the beady eyes and that horrible mouth. Ben Kiem obviously thought she was ugly, but he was a terrible artist and had no imagination. Ach, had she ever known anyone more idiotic?

  Linda’s annoyance gave way to amusement, and she giggled as she ran around and around the yard, kicking up snow and stomping the paint into the grass beneath. Her rubber boots made that funny squishing sound in the slush under her feet. It meant spring was just around the corner, and she could spend more time outdoors in the glorious warmth. March had come in like a lion but was definitely going out like a lamb.

  Linda saved the nose for last because green was her favorite color. With the rest of the face destroyed, the nose was just a pretty green triangle sitting in the middle of
her front yard. Linda stood in the center of the triangle in the very footprints of the painter—Ben Kiem, without a doubt. She had to admire his ingenuity and his determination. Many Christmases ago, Mammi Edna had filled spray bottles with water and food coloring and let Linda and Yost go outside and spray colors onto the snow. The color hadn’t lasted long and hadn’t been very bright. Ben had used real spray paint on Linda’s snow. It was ten times brighter than food coloring and didn’t sink into the snow over time. Obviously, he wanted to make sure it lasted long enough for Linda to see it. Painting that face in the snow couldn’t have been a five-minute job, especially with spray paint. It probably took an hour at least. That was dedication.

  If that boy put his efforts into something useful, he might actually make something of himself someday.

  Should she tell him that? She had half a mind to march over to Ben Kiem’s house and scold him for wasting his life on petty pranks and idle activities. But there was probably nothing Linda could say that Ben’s dat hadn’t already said. It was too bad. Ben seemed determined to throw away his youth. He hung around with Wally and Simeon at the park, smoking cigarettes and listening to Wally’s boom box.

  Why did he still act like a rebellious teenager? He seemed healthy and capable enough. His broad shoulders and muscular arms proved he knew how to work.

  One thing was for sure and certain. If he didn’t change his ways, he was going to ruin his life. It made Linda sort of sad. She didn’t like to be sad, so she shook her head and thought about spring and camping and stargazing and hiking to the top of Mount Lamborn. Ben Kiem’s life was none of her business, even if she did hate to see him throw it away. She couldn’t help everybody, and a boy who painted ugly pictures of her in the snow certainly didn’t want her to meddle.

  Still, Ben Kiem’s squandered life was all she could think about as she picked up her egg basket and checked the mail. She glanced at the front yard, which looked like a herd of cattle had trampled all the snow, but Mamm would never guess what had gone on here this morning. Linda smiled. Ben was safe.

  * * *

  Ben frowned as he watched Linda climb out of the buggy with Freeman and Suvie Sensenig. Nothing but the deepest respect and gratitude for his sister-in-law could make him go through with this. But Esther had sewed up his leg liked he’d begged her to, and Dat hadn’t found out about his little skiing mishap, at least not yet. Linda’s mamm, it seemed, hadn’t told Dat yet. Maybe she felt sorry for him. Maybe she had completely forgotten about it. Old ladies forgot lots of things.

  While keeping his gaze on Linda, Ben took one last drag on his cigarette, threw the butt to the ground, and stamped it out. He’d agreed to ask Linda if he could drive her home from the gathering, but he didn’t actually have to do it. She wouldn’t consent to let him drive her home in a million years. Linda Eicher was far too good for him, and she knew it. But last night he’d started to worry that maybe Linda would say yes out of pity or just so she could make fun of him behind his back. So he’d hiked over to her house in the middle of the night and painted that ridiculous face in her front yard. It was childish and immature and mean, but he had to make sure she hated him so badly that she would never even consider getting into a buggy with him.

  He’d told Esther he would ask, so he would, and then he could honestly report that Linda had refused him, and Esther would be satisfied. Or if not satisfied, at least convinced that he’d done his best to fulfill his part of the agreement. Linda was going to laugh at him and turn up her nose and glare at him like he was a fresh pile of manure. He wasn’t looking forward to it at all.

  With arms linked, Linda and Suvie practically skipped up the sidewalk of the Sensenigs’ house where the gathering was being held. Ben wanted to catch her before she went into the house. Might as well get this over with or the dread would hang over him all night. Ben could be brave when he wanted to be. With purposeful steps, he came up behind the two girls and tapped Linda on the shoulder. Linda turned around and peered at him with a slightly amused, slightly surprised expression on her face, as if he were wearing a shoe on his head. “Linda, can I talk to you privately?”

  Suvie giggled. Linda gave her friend a knowing look and smiled like she was the smartest girl in Colorado. “Okay.”

  With a lump the size of a horse in his throat, he turned and led her to the edge of the grass, far enough so no one would hear them talking, close enough so no one would think he wanted to be alone with Linda Eicher.

  She didn’t lose her smile, but Ben wasn’t fooled. She was mocking him. “So, Ben Kiem, you ski, you paint, you smoke. Is there anything you can’t do?”

  He swiped his hand across his mouth. “Look, let’s get this over with, okay? I’m wondering if... can I drive you home from the gathering tonight?”

  Her mouth fell open and there was a breathless pause before she started laughing. She doubled over and laughed and laughed until she almost couldn’t breathe. What was it with Linda and laughing? It seemed like whenever she wasn’t in church, she was either laughing or getting ready to laugh. Was her life really that funny?

  Ben had known he was going to embarrass himself just by asking the question, but he didn’t expect his face to get warm and his gut to ache. “I’ll take that as a no,” he snapped. “You can quit laughing now.”

  She grabbed his arm before he could walk away. “I’m sorry,” she said, though the remains of her laughter tripped from her mouth. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you or hurt your feelings or whatever.”

  “You didn’t hurt my feelings. But you shouldn’t make fun of people.”

  Linda took a deep breath and sighed, the wide smile still in place on her lips. “Ach, Ben. I’m not making fun. Truly I’m not. But you have to admit you’re acting strange, and it struck me as funny. I know you don’t want to drive me home from the gathering tonight, so why did you ask?”

  “So your answer is no? That’s all I needed to hear.” He could tell Esther he’d tried.

  She stepped in front of him and propped her hands on her hips to block his escape. “Is it another one of your tricks? Because they don’t upset me, if that’s what you’re trying to do. Your pranks and little paintings say more about your character than mine.”

  She was so smug. “What do you know about my character?”

  Her blue eyes danced in amusement. “I know that you’re not a very gute artist or skier.”

  “Very funny.”

  “But I know you’re determined and persistent when you put your mind to something. I mean, who else would spend that much effort painting my face in the snow? And then you were so careful with your footprints.”

  He folded his arms, turned his face away, and stifled a smile. He had gone to quite a bit of trouble to paint that picture. Linda had actually noticed. “Do you think I know what you’re talking about? A face in the snow?”

  “I felt kind of bad stomping on it, but if my mamm had seen it, she would have told your dat for sure and certain. You should have thought that one through better.”

  “I take risks.”

  “You’re reckless. It’s not the same thing as taking risks. You should never dive into a lake until you’ve checked how deep the water is. It’s foolhardy to put yourself in danger like that.”

  Ben shrugged and did what he always did when someone disapproved of his choices. He simply told himself he didn’t care. It made life easier when you didn’t worry about what other people thought of you.

  “But I also know you’re tough,” she said.

  Ben looked at her in surprise. She didn’t seem to be teasing him.

  “You’re coordinated because you stayed on those water skis as long as you did, even though you don’t know how to ski. And then you wouldn’t get in my buggy, even after you were hurt, because you wanted to prove a point. I’m not sure what point you wanted to prove—maybe how manly you are—but stubborn or not, you’re definitely tough.”

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

&nbs
p; Amusement gave way to some other emotion on her face. Sympathy maybe? “I saw the blood.”

  “You did?”

  “That’s why I offered you a ride. But I didn’t want to make a big fuss about it. You were embarrassed enough already.”

  “I wasn’t embarrassed,” he said, just to be contrary.

  “Okay, okay. You weren’t embarrassed.” She rolled her eyes and laughed, then stopped and studied his face. “I’m not making fun of you. Oy, anyhow, you need to learn to laugh at yourself, Ben.”

  “I don’t like it when people laugh at me.”

  She sighed and tempered her smile. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing with you. It looked like you were having a gute time on those skis until you crashed. You got some good air, then fell out of the sky like a duck full of buckshot.”

  He couldn’t keep his lips from curling upward. “I got pretty high. And I was going really fast.”

  “How bad did you hurt yourself? You’re here, so you didn’t bleed to death.”

  Would Linda be impressed with his wound or just find it another reason to laugh at him? He decided to trust her. He motioned for her to follow and led her to the bench swing in Millers’ front yard. After brushing off the snow and seeing that the metal was reasonably dry, he sat down and lifted his trouser leg up to his knee. Esther had wrapped the entire bottom half of his leg with gauze and made him promise to change it every twelve hours, as if she knew the magic number for gauze changing.

  Linda’s lips formed into an O. “I can’t see a thing, but it looks serious.”

  Ben found the edge and slowly, carefully unwound it from his leg. Square gauze pads underneath covered the cut. The rolled gauze was just to keep the square gauze pads in place, and they also had to be changed every twelve hours—because of Esther’s random magic number.

  Linda bent over his leg, her eyes full of excitement. Her eyes were an interesting color of blue, like an icy lake in the moonlight. “This is looking interestinger and interestinger.”