Melting Hearts Page 4

  “I’ll wait outside,” Peter told her as he went out the door. Once again Mattie noticed his hands were bare, and so did Onkel Atlee.

  “That bu needs some gloves,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve been meaning to give him mei spare ones.”

  “You do have a few things on yer mind,” Mattie said. Carolyn had started experiencing morning sickness, which in turn made her husband nauseated. This morning at breakfast they had both turned a little green when Carolyn put her hand over her mouth.

  “True.” He took the pad of paper next to the cash register, and then she saw him write gloves for Peter. “There. That might help me remember. Now, geh on. The taxi will be here any minute.”

  Mattie complied, but she dragged her feet as she went into the kitchen for her coat and purse. She even paused to retie a perfectly tied ribbon on a package of eggnog bread on her way back through the store. When she saw the taxi pull into the parking lot, she went outside, breezing past Peter. She started to put her hand on the handle of the front-seat door, but Peter dashed in front of her.

  “You can get in the back,” he said, pulling open the door and getting inside. Before he closed the door, she heard him say, “Hi, I’m Peter Kaufmann. Thanks for picking us up on short notice.”

  Mattie scowled as she got into the backseat. How rude. Why was it such a big deal that he sit up front? Not that she cared, really. But he had told her where she would sit, and she didn’t like that one bit. Not that she was surprised. She’d known Peter’s real personality would come out sooner or later. He was showing his true colors.

  Peter halfway tuned out Carl, the friendly taxi driver who clearly never met a stranger. He was probably in his midsixties and the kind of guy who always had a story. He also had the radio on low, and Christmas music hummed in the background. Normally Peter would listen and engage in conversation, but right now he was too busy trying not to laugh. He was getting Mattie’s goat, all right, and he loved every minute of it.

  He could tell she was appalled when Atlee suggested they go to Barton together. Mattie could never hide her feelings, which had worked against her more than once as they grew up together. When the kids picked on her for her freckles and skinny body, she tried to hold back the tears. But everyone could see she was upset, which made them tease her more. Peter hadn’t engaged in any of that. He’d thought it was cruel, especially when Lizzy joined in. Her supposed best friend would turn on Mattie every once in a while, and Peter never understood why Mattie put up with it.

  The memories made him frown. Wasn’t that what he was doing now? Annoying her on purpose, making her mad for his own amusement? When he grabbed the front seat from her, her face had turned bright red, and she was biting her bottom lip with her two front teeth as her eyebrows flattened into a line. He had to admit that angry Mattie was a little bit . . . cute. In her own coltish way. And up until now, that had been funny.

  He glanced over his shoulder and looked at her. She was staring out the window, her brow still flat but her face back to its normal color. Guilt hit him. He shouldn’t have made her upset . . . but it had felt good. He was tired of her righteous attitude toward him. If she only knew the truth. But he wasn’t going to tell her. That was Lizzy’s responsibility.

  He faced the front and tried to focus on Carl’s story about the history of the area, which was mildly interesting. But all he could think about was how he owed Mattie an apology.

  A brief time later Carl pulled up to the store where they were going to buy the sugar. “I’ll park over there and wait in the car,” he said, pointing to a parking lot. “Take your time. I’ve got my book to read.”

  “Aren’t you going to be cold?” Mattie asked as she opened her door.

  “Nah. This isn’t bad. I grew up in Manitoba. Nothing compares to Canadian cold.”

  After Carl drove off, Mattie had just turned to go inside when Peter called her. “Mattie.”

  She took a few steps, but then she turned around. “I want to get this over with,” she said, a spark in her brown eyes.

  Yeah, she was still mad, and she had a right to be. He went to her. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For taking the front seat.” He shifted on his feet. “And, um, annoying you in the bakery.”

  “You weren’t annoying me,” she said, averting her gaze.

  “Ya, I was, because I meant to.”

  Her eyes flew to him. “You were trying to make me mad?”

  “Stupid, I know.”

  “Ugh. You’re worse than I thought.”

  His contrition turned to anger. “Is that even possible? You’ve accused me of some awful things in the past, and you’ve treated me like I’m worse than the manure in a barn.”

  She lifted her chin. “Because you are.”

  He flinched. That was it. He was finished with her. She was mean, plain and simple. Lizzy taught her well. He blew past her and went into the store. He didn’t have a clue where the sugar was, but he didn’t care. He just had to get away from her before he said something he would regret.

  Mattie watched Peter leave. She had crossed a line this time, and guilt hit her like a tractor trailer. She had no right to say that to him, even if she thought he was a jerk. But other than his behavior in the last hour, he hadn’t been acting like a jerk. Maybe he is a nice guy.

  She shook her head. Being nice for a short time didn’t make up for what he did to Lizzy. Despite that, she needed to apologize. She went into the store, passing the bundled-up young man wearing a Santa hat and ringing a bell. Normally she would put some change into the dangling red kettle next to him, but she had to catch Peter.

  She spotted him struggling to pull out a shopping cart that was stuck to another one. That might have been humorous if he wasn’t so angry and she wasn’t so contrite. By the time she walked over to him, he had dislodged the cart and was shoving it through the automatic doors.

  “Peter,” she said, following him.

  But he didn’t slow down. Then he stopped a woman who was wearing a vest with the store’s name on it. “Where’s the sugar, please?” His voice was low and uncharacteristically tight.

  “Aisle eight,” she said, pointing to the other side of the store.

  He took off again, and Mattie hurried after him. Christmas music played from the sound system, and holiday glitter, lights, and sparkle were everywhere. Normally she’d saunter through the wide aisles to enjoy it all, but right now she had to catch Peter. “Stop,” she said just as they got to the aisle where the sugar was kept.

  He turned to her. “What?”

  She moved to stand close to him, looking around to make sure no one was watching them. “I’m sorry.”

  “Fine. You’re sorry. Let’s find the sugar and get out of here.” He pushed off again, and she trailed after him. Great. She’d have to repeat her apology, because he clearly hadn’t accepted it the first time. She started to get mad at him all over again, but this time she knew she was at fault.

  “How many bags?” He was crouching in front of the sugar on the bottom row of shelves. He didn’t look at her as he crammed three five-pound bags under one arm.

  “Ten,” she said meekly. “That should do it.”

  He put the three bags in the cart, and then he put in seven more before pushing it toward her. “Geh pay for these. I’m going to find Carl.” He took off, leaving her gripping the handle of a cart half full of sugar.

  All right. Let him stew. He had a right to. She would tell him she was sorry again later, when they were alone. Until then, she would take care of business. She decided to add two more bags of sugar to the cart and then went to check out. By the time she had the cart outside, Carl’s car was waiting along the front of the store, parked away from most of the crowd.

  Mattie pushed the cart to the car, and Peter got out. The trunk lid flipped open, and somehow he grabbed all the bags of sugar at once without dropping a single one. Wow. She hadn’t realized he was that strong. He dumped them all into t
he trunk, and then he shut the lid before getting into the backseat. She quickly slid into the front seat and shut the door.

  “The hardware store is next, right?” Carl said, glancing at Peter in the rearview mirror.

  “Yes,” he ground out.

  Mattie sank into her seat. It was going to be a long ride back to Birch Creek.

  Carl drove to the hardware store and pulled up in front of it. “How long do you think you’ll be?” he asked as Peter was getting out of the car.

  “Not sure. Twenty minutes or so?” Peter leaned back in. “Depends on how busy they are. But I’ll have most of the stuff delivered.”

  “I might come in with you, then. I need a few things myself. I’ll pull around back and park.”

  Peter shut the door, and Carl parked behind the building. “Care to join us?” Carl asked with a good-natured smile, apparently oblivious to the tension between her and Peter.

  “Sure,” she mumbled with little enthusiasm. As she got out of the car, she realized Noelle’s shop was only a few doors down. “Actually, I have another errand to run. I’ll meet you back here.”

  As soon as Mattie entered Noelle’s store, the scent of cinnamon and pine reached her, calming her a little. The small diffuser in the window next to the door had to be the source of the wonderful smell. The warmth of the small shop, which was packed to the brim with yarn, fabric, and other crafting materials, made Mattie smile. She loved shopping in craft stores, especially at Christmas, and right now she needed a respite from her feud with Peter.

  “Hi,” Noelle said, coming toward her. She was a pretty lady, with tortoiseshell glasses and dark-red hair, the shade Mattie had always wished she had. “Merry Christmas! Mattie, right?”

  “I’m surprised you remembered.”

  “I’m pretty good with names. How can I help you?”

  Mattie realized she shouldn’t take too much time looking for candles and other Christmas decorations as she’d once planned, so she just asked for holiday ribbon. “Do you still have some in stock?”

  “A few rolls. We’re almost sold out, so you came just in time.” She tilted her head toward the checkout counter. “They’re in a bin over there.” She led Mattie to a wicker basket.

  Mattie selected three rolls of ribbon, all red with a thin gold stripe down the middle. The design was nothing too fancy but it was still Christmas-y. She put the rolls on the counter and then spied a large box on the floor next to the register. She hadn’t noticed it when she was here before. On the front was written Donations Appreciated, and inside was a variety of winter outerwear. Many of the items looked handmade, but a few coats and jackets were obviously store-bought.

  “Do you know someone in need?” Noelle asked as she picked up one of the rolls.

  “No. I was just wondering what you were collecting.”

  “Winter clothing, as you can see. I’ve had this box out all fall. When it’s full I take the donations to local shelters.” She shook her head. “They always seem to need the help when it gets cold. I’m taking this box to Akron before too long.”

  Mattie thought about the scarves and hats she was making as gifts while she was in Birch Creek. “How long will you be collecting donations before you go?” she asked.

  “Up until Christmas Eve.”

  That would give her plenty of time. Mattie held up her hand. “Can you wait to ring those up? I have some more purchases to make.”

  The hardware shop wasn’t too busy. Peter arranged his delivery, and then he purchased nails, screws, shims, and a bucket of mortar for the foundation to the addition. He had to dig it out first, which would take a while since he was working by himself now that Atlee was working in the bakery. He didn’t mind doing the work alone, and he would be happy to have a shovel in his hand to burn off a little steam right about now.

  The clerk rang him up, charging the purchases to Atlee’s account. Carl had already finished shopping and returned to the car, first reminding Peter where he’d parked. Peter took the bags and the bucket of mortar and headed out the front door, ready to get home. He didn’t want to spend another moment stuck with Mattie.

  When he pushed on the glass door, he struck something. Then he saw Mattie sprawled on the sidewalk, large plastic bags strewn all around her. “Gut grief,” he said, lowering his own bags and the bucket to the ground.

  As he knelt beside her, she sat up, clasping her shoulder and then slowly moving it.

  He helped her up, making sure to lift her under her other shoulder. She was so slight that he didn’t have to strain at all to pick her up. He set her on her feet and bent down to look into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Ya.” She bent to pick up her packages, but he beat her to it. He hung the two large bags, which didn’t weigh much either, on his right forearm, and then he picked up the bucket and his bags. “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “It’s all right. I wasn’t paying attention.” She looked sheepish. “I was admiring some of the schee yarn I just bought.”

  Well, if that wasn’t the girliest thing he’d ever heard. It almost made him laugh, but then he remembered he was supposed to be mad at her. Yet his anger had disappeared the moment he realized he’d slammed her with the glass door. They headed for Carl’s car. “What are you going to make with it?”

  “Things. I can carry mei bags, Peter.” She reached for them, but he wouldn’t relinquish them.

  “Yer shoulder might be hurt more than you think.” He expected her to fuss at him, but she only nodded, and they continued toward the car.

  Carl had already opened the trunk for them, and Peter placed their purchases next to the bags of sugar. He shut the lid and saw that Mattie was already in the front seat. At least they wouldn’t be bickering over where to sit—which in hindsight seemed childish. He got into the backseat.

  Dusk rapidly descended as they drove back to Birch Creek. By the time they reached the bakery, the CLOSED sign was already on the door. “It’s only a little after five. Onkel Atlee must have closed up early.” Mattie pressed some bills into Carl’s hand. “Thank you for taking us.”

  “My pleasure. Do you need some help with your bags?”

  “I’ve got it,” Peter said.

  Mattie unlocked the bakery while Peter got the bags of sugar. He put them on the bench by the front door and then went back for the rest. Carl drove away as Mattie grabbed one of the bags of sugar.

  “I’ve got that.” Peter reached for it, and his hand brushed hers. He looked at her. “Mattie, just let me carry this stuff inside, all right?”

  “All right. I’ll hold the door open.”

  He made quick work of putting the sugar on the worktable in the kitchen. “I’ll put those away in the morning,” Mattie said, coming up behind him.

  Turning, he faced her. “How’s yer shoulder?”

  She moved it and winced a little. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Maybe you need some ice on it.” He didn’t see disgust in her eyes when she looked at him. Maybe it hadn’t been there earlier either.

  “Peter, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to make a joke out of her apology, but he could tell she was serious. “I know. And I acted badly trying to get you riled up. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I haven’t been treating you very well,” Mattie said, looking away again. The tips of her ears turned bright red. “I guess I deserved a little push back.”

  He was surprised. This wasn’t the Mattie he was used to. Had the door knocked her in the head too? “We really do need to come to an understanding,” he said.

  “I agree.” She met his gaze. “I promise I won’t be so rude from now on.”

  “And I promise not to try to get yer goat.” He held out his hand. “Truce? For real this time?”

  She took it. “Truce.”

  She’d removed her gloves, and as he shook her hand, he noted how soft and delicate it was. It was nice.
Very nice.

  Mattie released his hand. “I need to start supper,” she said. “Although I’m sure Carolyn already has. She’s going stir-crazy staying home all day, and mei onkel is only going to let her do so much.” She left through the double kitchen doors.

  Peter stared at his hand, still feeling the warmth from hers.

  5

  THAT EVENING, MATTIE SPREAD SOME OF THE YARN SHE’D bought on what space was left on the coffee table in the living room. Carolyn had decorated it earlier that day with a pine bough and a candle for Christmas. Then she put the rest of the skeins on the couch cushion beside her. She had a variety of yarn—some bulky, some baby fine, some dark, some light. It was enough to make quite a few hats, scarves, and mittens for Noelle’s charity box. Now she needed to roll the yarn into balls. It was tedious work, but if she didn’t do it, the yarn would tangle as she used it. And she’d rather make the balls all at once to get it over with.

  She was on her third skein when Peter walked into the room, eating an apple. He paused at the foot of the stairs and watched her. She was aware of him, which annoyed her, just like she’d been aware of the feel of his hand as she’d shaken it. It was cold, as expected, and roughly calloused, which she’d also expected. What she hadn’t expected was the shiver that traveled down her spine when they touched. The pleasant shiver. Maybe that was what every girl felt when she shook a boy’s hand.

  Not a boy. Peter was a man, and for some reason she’d become more aware of that too. Not to mention becoming more aware that her shoulder did hurt. He was right. She might have to put some ice on it.

  Peter held his apple in midair. “What are you doing?”

  “Making yarn balls.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s easier to crochet that way.”

  “You going to do all of them?”

  “Ya.” She continued to wind the forest-green yarn in her hands.

  “You realize you’ll be here all night.”

  He was exaggerating, but it would take her a couple of hours to wind them all. “Nee, I won’t.” She focused on her task, and then she heard him crunch another bite of his apple before she heard footsteps. He’d gone into the kitchen, not up the stairs.