Mammi snapped her head around to look at Ben and stopped in her tracks. “He did say that, didn’t he?” She reversed direction, away from Dawdi’s chair. “Never mind, then.”
Felty held out his hand with a smug look on his half-covered face. “Come here, Annie Banannie. I’ll have my pill now.”
Ben pressed his lips tightly together to keep from chuckling. Had Mammi tricked Dawdi into taking a pill, or had she really changed her mind? Maybe she was way more clever than Ben could ever hope to be.
Sixty years of marriage was no small thing.
The door opened, and Ben’s sister Lizzie charged like a bull into the great room. She had a basket slung over one arm and a smile pasted on her face, but one look at her expression told Ben that she was irritated about something. She glanced at him and her eyes flashed.
Jah, she was irritated at him.
“Mammi, how are you yet?” Lizzie said, depositing her basket on the table, striding to Mammi’s side, and giving her a firm hug.
“Lizzie, it’s wonderful to see you.”
Lizzie quickly moved to Dawdi and sat on the sofa. “How are you, Dawdi?”
Dawdi lifted his head from the recliner. “A lot better than your mammi thinks I am. Hardly any pain at all.”
“How did the surgery go?”
“The doctor told us it went well,” Mammi said. “But you never know. There could be unexpected complications. He’ll have to be very careful for the next three or four weeks.”
Dawdi shifted in his recliner. “Not at all. I feel so gute, I could get up and milk the cows tomorrow.”
Lizzie took Dawdi’s hand. “You must take it easy. We wouldn’t want you back in the hospital if you overdo it.”
Mammi tapped Ben on the arm. “Ben will take excellent care of us. He’s got all summer.”
All summer? Ben wasn’t planning on even being here through May. Unless Dawdi needed him, of course. He’d suffer through months of being close to Emma for Dawdi’s sake.
Lizzie studied Dawdi’s bandage. “You look like you’re wearing a bright white and red mustache.”
“Did you bring us some goodies?” Mammi asked.
Lizzie stood and went to the table. She pulled a golden-brown pie from the basket. “I made apple pies today. One for you, one for our family, and one to take to Emma’s tomorrow, maybe,” she said, lowering her eyes.
Ben’s heart turned over in its grave. Lizzie was going to visit Emma.
Lizzie gave Ben a pointed look. Jah, she was irritated about something. He had a feeling he’d find out soon enough what it was.
Mammi clapped her hands. “I love apple pie.”
“It’s not really the season for them,” Lizzie said. “But Lark Country Store had some.” She turned back to Dawdi. “What can I do for you?”
Dawdi patted her hand. “I don’t need any help, Liz. I’m feeling much better.”
Lizzie leaned closer to Dawdi’s chair. “I want to help wherever I can, even if Ben has things so well in hand.” She shot him an accusatory look again, as if everything in the world were his fault.
“Alrighty then,” Dawdi said. “You can read the paper to me.”
Lizzie picked up The Budget sitting on Dawdi’s small table and started reading. Ben helped Mammi tidy the kitchen while Lizzie read out loud. Dawdi loved The Budget, but Ben’s eyes tended to glaze over after about half a page.
Once they’d cleaned the kitchen, Mammi sliced the apple pie and scooped generous pieces onto four small plates. Ben sprayed whipped topping from a can onto each piece. They handed plates to Lizzie and Dawdi and sat together to eat. Lizzie stopped reading, even though she was at an incredibly exciting part about who had come to services in Wautoma last month.
“This is the best pie I’ve ever tasted,” Dawdi said. “Fit for a king.”
For some unknown reason, Lizzie blushed. “I hope everybody likes it.”
“Very gute,” Ben said, studying Lizzie’s face.
Her embarrassment didn’t last long. She cleared her throat and remembered to glare at Ben. “I saw Emma Nelson today,” she said, as if Emma were a regular topic of conversation.
Ben felt the heat travel up his neck as he clenched his jaw. Lizzie obviously had a bee in her bonnet about something, but he’d rather not discuss Emma in front of Mammi and Dawdi. It was tricky enough when Emma came to Huckleberry Hill and Mammi insisted Ben spend hours with her in the garden.
He didn’t know how strong he could be. And he certainly didn’t want Mammi and Dawdi to get their hopes up about Emma.
Jah. He wouldn’t want to upset Mammi and Dawdi for anything.
He shot to his feet and nearly lost his piece of pie in the process. “Thanks for coming, Lizzie. The pie tasted wonderful gute.”
Lizzie stood as if she’d been expecting some sort of reaction from him. “Why don’t you come outside and see me off, big brother?”
She retrieved her sweater from the hook and handed him the coat hanging next to it. It happened to be Dawdi’s coat, which was about four sizes too small. He looped it back on the hook, gave her a smirk, and opened the door. They walked out together. The late-afternoon sun felt comfortably warm at his back. No need for a sweater.
“Okay,” he said, deciding not to mince any words. Lizzie never did. “I’m really sorry for whatever it is I did.” Then a depressing thought came to him. “Have you changed your mind about being Emma’s friend?” The way she frowned at him made his heart sink. “I take it the reunion didn’t go well.”
Lizzie’s face turned a pale shade of purple. “Go well? Emma thinks everything is her fault. She welcomed me back with open arms. We’re best friends again.”
Ben almost breathed out a sigh of relief, but her expression stopped him short. Maybe he shouldn’t be happy just yet. Lizzie still acted as if he were waving a red bandanna in front of her face and taunting her. “Okay?” he prompted.
She shoved her hands onto her hips and stared him down even though he towered over her by seven or eight inches. “All this time. All these months. How could you?”
“How could I what?”
She narrowed her eyes to barely visible slits. “Don’t interrupt me.”
He shut his mouth and pretended he didn’t have one.
“It must have been very hard when Emma broke up with you.”
The memory almost bulldozed him. Why would she bring up such a painful event? He flexed his tingling fingers.
She looked at him as if he’d stolen an Englischer’s car. He crushed his lips tighter together. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”
“You told me not to interrupt.”
She stomped her foot and turned a deeper shade of purple. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re the one who called off the engagement.”
A puff of air could have knocked Ben to the ground. He couldn’t keep his voice from shaking. “You didn’t know?”
“All I know is that you told me you had to get away from Emma, that you weren’t going to get married.” The anger seemed to melt from her expression and she looked truly hurt. “You loved her so much, Ben. I assumed she called it off because you never would have.”
Ben’s throat went dry. He loved Emma with every beat of his miserable heart. But sometimes love had to be unselfish. He briefly closed his eyes and told himself for the millionth time that it was better this way. Emma would recover in time, and in the end, she would be glad she hadn’t married him.
“I feel so deerich, foolish,” Lizzie said.
“It doesn’t matter. Now you know.”
“All these months I’ve been blaming Emma for driving you away. I told her that I’d lost my brother because of her.”
Lizzie’s words felt like a slap in the face. Emma must have been devastated—more devastated than she already had been.
And her pain was his fault. Again.
Lizzie’s face clouded over, and she hooked her elbow around his arm. “Cum. You need to sit down before you fall.”
He did as he was told. He suddenly didn’t feel so strong.
Lizzie softened her voice and spoke as if she were delivering very bad news. “Everybody thought Emma had broken it off. You moved to Florida, Ben.”
“But didn’t she explain everything to you?”
She huffed out a breath. “I accused her of driving you away, remember? She wouldn’t have wanted to explain anything to such a rotten friend. She just pasted on that fake smile and tried to work herself to death. I thought she acted that way because she was happy to be rid of you.”
A black pit threatened to swallow Ben whole. Poor Emma. He had found some measure of peace in Florida because he thought Emma had somehow moved on, that she wasn’t mourning for him. Now all that disappeared. She must have suffered more terribly than he had anticipated.
Lizzie scooted closer to him and draped her arm over his shoulder. She kept her voice low and soothing even though Ben could tell she was rumbling like a volcano beneath the surface. “I don’t understand. Why did you call things off with her? You two were everybody’s ideal couple. We were all a little jealous at how good-looking you both are. Although it was no mystery you found each other. Good-looking people seem to find other good-looking people to live happily ever after with.”
“We found each other because you invited her to the lake four years ago. It’s all your doing.”
“So?” She studied his face. “Why did you break up with your perfect match?”
He held his breath for what seemed like ten minutes and thought of all the things he could say to Lizzie but wouldn’t. “I don’t deserve her.”
Lizzie raised both eyebrows and blinked exactly twice. “That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard in my life.”
He lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. Stupid or not, that was all he could give her. If he told her everything, she’d argue with him, and he didn’t want to argue. He’d debated with himself so many times that he had a permanent headache. But still, he thought that maybe he could make Lizzie see reason without really giving her all the information. “Emma would have been miserable being married to me. I know you think that’s dumb, but it’s truly the way I feel. I love—loved—her too much to let her chain herself to me for life. I won’t do it.”
Lizzie batted her eyes as if a stiff wind had blown chimney ash into her face. She patted his hand as if she were explaining things to a five-year-old. “I believe you’re suffering from a severe case of low self-esteem.”
He pulled his hand away. “It’s not right for Emma and me. Can you trust me when I tell you it’s just not right?”
Lizzie seemed unmoved by his plea. “If I don’t know why you broke up, how can I help you get back together?”
Ben’s heart leaped at the possibility even as he recognized what a disaster it would be to Emma’s tender feelings. “Nae. We won’t get back together.”
Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “You can’t stop me from trying to make it happen.”
He turned to stone. Couldn’t Lizzie see how hazardous such an attempt would be? “If you push me, I’ll go back to Florida in a second and ask cousin Aden to care for Dawdi.”
All the light seemed to drain out of her. “You’d leave us again?”
He sighed in resignation and put a comforting arm around her. “I’m not going to be here much longer anyway. You know that.”
“Then it won’t matter what I do. Offended or not, you’ll be going away again.”
“I’m sorry, Lizzie. That’s how it has to be.”
She nestled closer under his arm. “Then I should enjoy the time we have left together.”
“Jah, instead of wasting your time trying to match me with girls I don’t want to be with.”
He flinched as Emma came around the bend in the lane. Had she heard any of their conversation?
Her mouth quivered as if she were trying to smile but found it impossible to actually do it.
An empty space yawned in the pit of his stomach. She’d heard enough. Hurting her had become a regular habit, even though he would as soon move to Africa as injure his dear Emma. He didn’t know how his heart could take much more of being near her and watching both of them suffer.
“Emma,” Lizzie said, a little too loudly as if to warn Ben of Emma’s approach. “I was just giving Ben a piece of my mind.”
Could he say anything to wipe that forlorn look off her face? “My dawdi’s surgery went well.”
The surgery went well? Was that the best he could do? He ran a hand down the side of his face. Why had Emma ever fallen in love with him?
Emma nodded gravely, marched up the porch steps, and bolted into the house. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said over her shoulder as she disappeared down Mammi’s hall.
Lizzie frowned and cuffed him on the shoulder. “I’m so mad at you right now.”
Ben spread his arms in surrender. “I don’t know what to do. What do you want me to do?”
“Stay in Bonduel and marry Emma.”
“I can’t, Lizzie. Don’t ask. Don’t ever ask again.”
Chapter 6
Ben’s legs felt as stiff as boards as he shuffled into the barn through the side door. Enough sunlight streamed through the high windows to let him see by, and if he propped the door open, he’d have no need for a lantern.
It had been two weeks since Dawdi’s surgery, and Emma had avoided him as if he had a foul smell hanging about him. It was better this way. As long as she stayed away from him, he wouldn’t have to gaze into those lake-blue eyes and dream about what a paradise it would have been to have Emma as his wife.
He also didn’t like to be reminded of how badly he’d hurt her last August and how deeply she still felt it. Even though she forced a painful smile when he was near, he knew his presence tortured her. Why else would she retreat to the safety of Mammi and Dawdi’s bathroom every time he looked at her the wrong way?
The sooner he could get out of Bonduel, the better. Emma must be allowed to heal.
He gathered the tools he would need from Dawdi’s bench and walked to the hooks on the wall where Dawdi hung his harnesses and other tack. He fingered the harness that needed repair yesterday and decided he might need that lantern after all. He could have sworn one of the straps was nearly worn through. Today it looked as good as new. Better than new. Someone had already replaced it.
He rubbed the back of his neck as he took a closer look at the buggy. The leather had been oiled and the buggy’s exterior buffed. Even the velvet seats had been brushed and the floor cleaned. Had Mammi done this? Or Emma?
Well then, one fewer item on his long list of things that would need to be done today. He limped to the bench and stowed Dawdi’s tools where they belonged.
The door on the other side of the barn opened and flooded the space with light. Emma walked into the barn and began searching for something on the shelves along the far wall. Ben turned into a statue. He was partially hidden behind a stout pillar and the buggy, so if he didn’t make a sound, Emma would never know he was there.
Why did his chest ache and his heart hammer against his ribs every time he laid eyes on her? He’d done his very best to let her go and move on. His body hadn’t gotten the message. He indulged in a little self-pity. She was so beautiful. Why had God required this sacrifice of him? Didn’t God want him to be happy, to have Emma beside him for a long life dedicated to God’s service? He squeezed his eyes shut and banished those thoughts from his head.
God is good. His ways are not my ways.
Emma stood on her tiptoes rearranging pots and seed boxes, still looking for something, but she wasn’t tall enough to see the highest shelves. Ben resisted the almost overpowering urge to go to her aid. He was tall enough to reach anything Emma might need.
She stretched her arm all the way up and her fingertips brushed against a ball of twine on the top shelf. She wouldn’t be able to get it down by herself. Too late he decided he should help her. Before he had a chance to step out of the s
hadows, her sleeve brushed against a teetering watering can on the shelf below, and it toppled off its perch and clocked Emma on the forehead.
Ben gasped, forsook his hiding place, and went quickly to her side. She groaned as her hand flew to her right eye. Blood had seeped between her fingers by the time Ben reached her.
“Emma, are you okay?”
While she pressed her hand over the right half of her face, he led her to the milking stool and helped her sit. Then he found another milking stool and sank next to her.
Emma pulled her hand from her face, caught sight of the blood on her fingers, and immediately slapped her hand back over the wound. “Oh, bother,” she mumbled.
Ben had to concentrate on keeping his breathing steady. He usually didn’t mind the sight of blood, but this was Emma’s blood. Why had he not set aside his own selfishness and helped her in the first place?
“Can I have a look?” he said, as calmly as if he were asking for a glance at the latest news in The Budget.
She faithfully clutched her face. “Head wounds always look more serious than they are. I’ll go in and get a little bandage from Anna.” She tried to stand.
Ben nudged her back down. “It wouldn’t be very gute if you fainted on your way to the house and flattened Mammi’s newly planted petunias.”
Frowning in concentration, she studied him with her good eye. “I need the twine for measuring to the center of the pumpkin mound. I want to move Anna’s plant from the pot this morning. I’m a little clumsy today, I guess.”
“That watering can was bound to come over on you. It was teetering before you even walked in the barn. Someone didn’t scoot it back far enough on the shelf.”
“I’m the one who put it away,” she said.
“Oh.”
Her mouth drooped. “I’m all thumbs, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I’ve never noticed that about you. Some people are naturally accident-prone.”
“Same thing.”
“Can I see your very impressive cut?”
“How do you know it’s impressive?” she asked.
Huckleberry Spring Page 8
