Lilly's Wedding Quilt (33 page)

She sank backward. “That makes three I’m afraid. I guess I forgot myself.”

“Me too,” he mumbled. “Are you … done?”

“For now. Do you like your gift so far?”

He gave a hoarse laugh. “I love it. I’d say it’s the best birthday present I’ve ever had.”

“And your birthday’s hardly begun.” She trailed her fingertips down his arm and delighted in his shiver of response.

J
acob swung the axe with ruthless precision in the early morning light, setting wood chips flying. He felt restless and frustrated and upside down inside. He loved Lilly’s surprising gift, and his scalp tingled at the thought of the remaining kisses. He found himself trying to figure out how she’d work them all in before the end of the day.

“Think that’s enough wood, son.” His father spoke from behind him, and he almost dropped the axe.

“
Daed
, don’t come up behind me like that! I could’ve taken your ear off.”

His father laughed. “Don’t forget who taught you to cut wood. I’d say you’ve cut enough to last for the next three weeks.”

Jacob glanced at the pile, amazed at how much he’d worked through.

“Put your coat back on, son. You’ll catch a chill sweating like that in this cold.”

Again, Jacob hadn’t even noticed the cold; he’d been so occupied with his thoughts. Now he shivered in his light-blue, long-sleeved shirt and reached for the black coat he’d flung over a stump. He bent and gathered an armful of wood and turned with his
daed
to walk back toward the house.

“So, were you working off your first Valentine’s as a married man or the fact that you’ve turned twenty-five?”

“No. I was just thinking. Uh,
Daed
—do you understand women?”

His father choked on a laugh. “
Nee
, that would be their Creator who best understands them.”

Jacob tried to smile and his
daed
went on.

“Let’s sit down for a minute, son.”

Jacob sank down on the cold back porch step and moved to make room for his father. He stared at the wood in his arms. “Things are so much easier when you’re working outside. I know what to do, how to behave—because you taught me all that,
Daed
.”

“Then try and learn from what you know. Look, Jacob, nobody’s born married. You have to work at it. Think about how long it took you to know everything that you do about horses. Pour that kind of interest into your wife. And remember, the family is the center, the place of true treasure.”

Jacob was quiet.

“You think on it, son. Pray and see what comes to you.” His
daed
patted his arm and rose to go inside while Jacob hugged the wood and bent his head to do as his father suggested.

L
illy had difficulty concentrating at school, so she did what she’d never done before in all of her teaching. She took the liberty of calling an early dismissal on account of the holiday. The children stared at her at first as if she were
narrish
but soon gave way to clapping and whoops of joy. Even Abel smiled.

“So,” she encouraged them, “go home … give your family their valentines, and remember Who it is who loves us all.”

John Zook caught Abel’s hand, and the rest of the group soon fled with them. She had no idea what the school board would say, but today she didn’t care. She had twenty-two kisses left to give to her husband.

J
acob saw her buggy turn down the lane along the main fence and automatically started to head for the barn.

“Hey, where you going?” Seth called. “That’s your
fraa
.”

“Yeah … uh, I know.”

“Fighting on your first Valentine’s Day? What’s wrong with you?”

Jacob turned on his heel and strode back to the fence as Lilly pulled up, her beautiful smile lighting up her face as she peered from the buggy.

“Hello,” she called. “I’ve given myself the afternoon off.”

She slipped down and came over to the fence while he stared at her in wonder.

“You let the
kinner
go home early?”

“Yes. Hi, Seth.”

“Hiya
.”

“Why did you do that?” Jacob asked, though there was something in her eyes that told him the answer.

“You know,” she murmured.

He reached to cup her chin across the fence. She yielded to his hand, a smile playing about her lips.

“Two,” he murmured, nuzzling closer to her.

“What?”

“Two kisses. Right now, if you would so please.”

She leaned forward, careless of Seth, and let her hands slide up to his shoulders.

“All right, if you insist.”

She kissed him twice, but he felt so enraptured that he couldn’t tell where one kiss ended and the other began. Then she drew back and he gripped the fence hard.

“You did say two, right?”

He nodded weakly.

Seth cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for staring but odd behavior has always fascinated me. I mean, not that you look odd, but, well, I haven’t seen kissing like that since … I don’t think I’ve ever seen kissing like that.” His voice took on a forlorn note.

“Go away, little
bruder
, and find your own
fraa
. Mine owes me some more of my birthday gift.”

Seth grinned as he started past them. “I see, well, I bet that was a pretty present to open.”

“I’m still unwrapping,” Jacob confessed as he lowered his head to claim yet another of his sweet gifts.

C
HAPTER 41

T
wenty. Twenty. Twenty … Somehow, his innocent but clever wife had got him thinking about kissing in terms of delicious rationing, like drops of water to a thirsting man. But he found his thirst increased with each kiss so that their spontaneous walk in the woods near the Wyse farm became fraught with exquisite tension. He felt as
naerfich
as a colt and struggled to concentrate on the patches of snow and exposed tree roots along the trail he’d run as a young
buwe
.

“So, if you weren’t getting kisses,” she asked, shooting him a smiling sidelong glance, “what would you have liked to have had as a favorite supper for your birthday?”

You
. He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Pork chops, scalloped potatoes, apple butter, and fresh bread.”

“I’ll have to remember.”

“And what’s your favorite food?” he asked.

“Funnel cakes,” she answered without a pause.

“Funnel cakes? Really? Like at the fall fairs?”

“Mmm-hmmm. I love pinching off the warm dough and sliding it in the powdered sugar. I can eat a whole cake alone.”

“There’s a fun side to you that I don’t know.”

She slipped her hand into his. “Maybe there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”

“True. But I plan to spend a lifetime discovering your secrets, Lilly Wyse.” He stopped, turned to her, raised her slender fingers to his lips. “I claim kiss number twenty.” He carefully selected her left pointer finger and popped the tip into the warmth of his mouth. He heard her gasp as he drew upon her skin gently, letting his teeth edge against her. She tasted of summer and sky. He smiled at his pleasant fancies as he released her with reluctance.

“That … that wasn’t a kiss,” she declared.

He stared down at her, then tucked her arm into his, continuing the walk. “Now that presents an interesting topic for discussion, Mrs. Wyse. What exactly constitutes a kiss in your opinion?”

“Well, not that. I’m not a piece of candy.”

He felt a delicious churning in his chest at her innocent words. “
Ach
, there are so many ways that I could answer that, but none are quite suitable for a lady, I’m afraid.” He watched her delicately flush with delight.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” She sniffed, a cover for the smile he could see playing about the edges of her mouth.

“No worries. But back to the issue at hand. What exactly is a kiss?” He asked the question in a calm voice but the words did something warm to him as he tried to come up with his own definition.

“Well, I’m sure it’s a question that’s been asked through the ages—”

“No fair playing teacher,” he chided.

“I’m not! Well, all right. I am.” She laughed. “When I was younger I used to practice kissing my reflection in the bureau mirror.”

“Really?”

“
Jah
, and I’m not going to ask how you practiced. I don’t think I want to know.”

“My wrist,” he confessed, feeling himself flush.

“What?” She stopped stock-still.

He turned his free arm over, stroking the veins and underside of his wrist, and shrugged. “It’s … it’s kind of a sensitive spot. So, I’d practice.”

“When?”

“You mean how old I was?”

“No. When would you practice?”

“
Ach
, when I was alone, of course.” Then he laughed out loud, remembering something.

“What?” she demanded.

He shook his head. “Too strange.”

“Now you’ve got me curious. What?”

“Well, I always practiced when I was certain to be alone— except once. I was supposed to be milking, and I was, but I had my other arm back against the cow, my mouth on my wrist, half asleep, when my
daed
walked in.”

She giggled and he thrilled to the delightful sound. “What did he say?”

“He laughed and I woke up all the way and fell backward off the milking stool. Then he helped me up and warned me that I’d better not leave any marks on my wrists or my mother would know what I’d been up to.”

“Marks?”

He lowered his gaze to her lips. “Yeah, you know.”

She shook her head slightly and he felt a dizzying wave of desire. “Marks—from doing it too hard,” he explained.

“Oh.” Her gaze slid away to the safety of the ground and he cupped her chin, gently forcing her to look up at him.

“Do you know what I mean?”

She wet her lips. “Wouldn’t—wouldn’t that hurt?”

He smiled. “Wonderfully. Do you want me to show you?”

“Uh … I don’t think—”

“Just watch,” he whispered. He felt her shock when he pulled from her slightly and slid his black coat sleeve up from his wrist. He turned his arm over and lowered his mouth to his own skin, feeling a curious mix of excitement and exhilaration in the knowledge that she stared at him. He watched her from lowered lashes as he drew hard against the pulse point, feeling the throb of his own blood beneath his lips. He lifted his head after a few moments, then held his arm out for her inspection.

“See?” he asked hoarsely. They both stared at the reddened mark that stood out against the tan of his skin.

She reached delicate fingertips to rub against the spot, pressing slightly against the damp imprint. “It really doesn’t hurt?”

He drew in a shaky breath and half-laughed.
“Nee
.”

He knew by instinct what she was going to do before she ever dipped her head, and the knowledge jolted through him so hard that he felt like his heart would stop. She kissed his wrist and he closed his eyes against the wet stinging movement of her novice mouth. She drew back after a few seconds and he forced himself to open his eyes. She stared up at him uncertainly and he smiled at her with dazed warmth.

“Was that … all right?”

“
Jah
,” he breathed. “More than all right. I’ll never forget.”

She smiled shyly. “Was that nineteen?”

“That might have to count for more than just one.”

“So, that was a kiss, then?”

“If that’s your definition of a kiss, Lilly, I’d say we couldn’t agree more.” He caught her hand and eased up her sleeve. “But what about your poor neglected wrist, my
fraa
?”

He watched her breathing increase as he encircled her delicate bones with his thumb and forefinger. “Have you ever heard of snow kissing?” he asked with husky interest and she shook her head.

“Noooo.”

“Do you want to learn how?”

“To kiss the snow? Are you going to dump me in a snowbank?”

“Snow kissing has to be done just right before the snow melts.” He stooped to scoop up a palmful of clean snow. “Let me see your wrist.”

She offered her arm hesitantly, and he laid a finger full of cold snow across the delicate veins so clear beneath her pale skin. Then he bent his head, hovering near the wrist she’d reached to support with her other hand. “See,” he murmured. “The cold of the snow against the heat of your skin … mmmm … makes it start to melt, but then I put my mouth over the snow …” He broke off to do as he’d explained and heard her startled gasp as he lapped the snow from her wrist then kissed the warm-cold spot with gentle pressure. He lifted his head to stare into her transfixed blue eyes, then placed a drop of snow against her parted lips. He meant to go slow, to entice as well as to teach, but one touch of the melting liquid cold giving way to the warmth of her lips and he lost all track of rational thought. He kissed her with such intensity that they both moved until her back was against a wide tree. His fingers dug into the bark of their own accord, heedless of the melting snow in his palm.

He broke away once to catch his breath. “Lilly … I think … do you want …” And then she stretched to encircle her arms about his neck and he was lost. One kiss followed another in mindless succession until he was sure he’d gone past the bounds of his birthday gift to something even more tantalizingly special.