by Senft, Adina
Emma welcomed the dark, cow pies and all. After the cheerful teasing and gradually increasing volume of conversation as people got to eating and visiting, the silence of the fields and the nighttime scent of green things springing from the earth were a relief to her soul.
“Did you have a good time?” Joshua asked at last, when she’d made it clear by her silence that she wasn’t going to be talking anytime soon.
“Ja. But it would have been better if we’d come separately.”
“If we’re going to be seeing each other, why shouldn’t we come together?”
“Because we’re not engaged. We’re not even courting. After tonight, seeing what a fuss people made, I think we should be more discreet if we’re going to see each other as friends.”
“Too late now.” He sounded far too cheerful. “There was such a crowd I never got the chance to really talk with you. Maybe it’s a good thing we’re walking.”
Kathryn Esch’s warning rang in Emma’s memory. “I have something I’d like to ask you.”
“Anything. Ask away.”
There was no way to make this sound good, so Emma plunged in before she lost her courage. “Is it true that you got an Englisch girl in…in the family way?”
The outline of his hat turned in her direction, but on such a moonless night she couldn’t see his face. “Is that what they’re saying? No wonder some of the matrons are giving me the cold shoulder.”
“Well, is it?”
He was silent a moment. “It pains me that you even need to ask such a question.”
“It pains me to ask it. But I would still like to know the truth.”
“The truth. Well, here it is. Ja, I was seeing an Englisch girl up there in Shipshey. I was seeing lots of girls, and come to find out she was seeing more guys than me. But I was not…” He paused. “It feels strange to talk of such things with a single woman.”
“I asked.”
“Ja, you did. Here is the truth, then. I’m not—not inexperienced when it comes to women. That girl did get pregnant. But not by me. When she had her baby, he had skin the color of Mamm’s good cocoa, and she subsequently married the father. I sent a nice pair of glass salt and pepper shakers as a wedding gift.”
Emma did not want to know what “not inexperienced” meant. But she got the drift. When Joshua came to his marriage bed, he would not be as shy and ignorant as—as his future wife, whoever she might be.
Her mind shuddered away from that faceless woman before her features became recognizable.
“Here we are at the fence,” she said instead.
“Let me.” He held the strands of barbed wire again, and slipped through after her. “I’m sure you have more questions.”
She almost wished she hadn’t. “What do you plan to live on here in Whinburg? Melvin Miller’s fields aren’t in such good shape, and harvest is a long way off.”
“I have a little in the bank, and I’m in my old room at Mamm and Daed’s. They don’t charge me rent, but I contribute what I can to the grocery bill. I have to say, though, that bringing Melvin’s fields back to health might take more than one summer.”
“He’s no farmer, it’s true. Going in with the Steiner boys on Amelia’s pallet shop has to be better for him.”
“They were talking out in Isaac’s barn about him becoming a kind of traveling salesman. Some of the men laughed at the idea—how far can you travel in a buggy, anyway? All the folks within a day’s ride already know about the pallet shop. But it might have merit.”
“Amelia says he’s always talking to people, and has even brought in some business that way. But I hope he doesn’t go through with it. Carrie has been alone enough since they got married, with him off trying to find work.”
“Carrie. She’s the blond one? The one who’s so slender she could turn sideways and not cast a shadow?”
“That’s the one. But she has a spirit as big as Moses Yoder’s barn.”
They walked into the yard and Emma ran a practiced eye over the house. All the windows were dark, except for a single lamp burning in the kitchen. Mamm would have gone to bed an hour ago and left the lamp for her.
“Gut Nacht,” she said, turning to face the shadow that was Joshua. “Denki for walking over with me.”
“What, no more questions?” The laughter was back in his voice.
“I think those two were enough, don’t you?”
“My character and my prospects. I suppose those are the most important.”
He stood there, as if he were waiting for something. Good heavens. Did he expect her to kiss him good night? As if she’d been goosed by an impertinent dog, Emma scooted up the front steps of the Daadi Haus. “I need to check on Mamm. See you next Sunday, Joshua.”
“If not sooner.”
When he turned to go, she closed the door behind her and sagged against it in relief. Without a doubt, this had been the longest evening of her life.
Chapter 10
You just need a few more evenings like that to get comfortable being with a man,” Carrie said from behind her sewing machine on Tuesday afternoon. “It takes a little while, but before you know it, you’ll be wanting him to kiss you.”
“It will take more than a little while.” Emma’s shears sang against the green fabric as she cut the last panel of their quilt top. After Carrie sewed it on, the piecing would be finished and they could begin quilting. Already the big roll of batting sat on the metal shelf in Amelia’s washroom, and they’d pieced a nice big star shape out of scraps for a backing that would show their quilt patterns nicely.
“Why do you say that?” Amelia wanted to know. “If you don’t want to kiss the man, maybe you shouldn’t be courting.”
“That’s the trouble.” A final snip, and the big panel fell to the table, arrow-straight. “What if I want to kiss a man who wouldn’t dream of kissing me, and don’t want to kiss the one who does?”
Carrie’s foot stopped its motion on the treadle. “Emma Stolzfus. Did something happen between you and that Englisch man in New York?”
They had no inkling about who her heart had really chosen, because she had not done much more than hint about it. But Amelia and Carrie wouldn’t judge her for giving away her heart to someone who didn’t want it. They would give her sympathy and kindness, not ridicule. What was she afraid of?
She could make a choice, here and now. She could let them think that the man who haunted her was Tyler West without saying much at all. Or she could be honest and tell them the truth.
These are your friends—closer even than sisters. You know the secrets of their hearts. It isn’t fair for you to keep yours back.
As she took a breath, the decision wasn’t so hard to make, after all. “It’s not Tyler West. It’s Grant Weaver.”
Silence fell in Carrie’s sunny front room as both she and Amelia spooled back over the past few weeks. Emma could see understanding dawn at about the same rate as the blush rose in her face.
“You really meant it,” Carrie said at last. “You really care. Oh, Emma.”
In those two words, Emma heard pity and understanding. “I know it’s foolish and wicked. I know he’s married. I know it’s a sin. And I still can’t help it.” Now that her secret was out, the words fell out of her mouth as though she’d pulled a stopper from a drain. “He worked around our place for those weeks, eating in my kitchen, joking with Mamm, asking my opinion, and I feasted on all of it like it was Christmas dinner. And then, when the work was done, he drove away without a backward look.” She pulled herself together. “He had no reason to look back, of course.”
“He’s building Mandy and Kelvin’s house on the acreage Daniel Lapp gave them,” Amelia said. “It’s good he has work to take his mind off this mystery about Lavina. He must be working hard, because we haven’t seen much of him.”
“He wasn’t at your folks’ on Friday?” Carrie asked.
“Neither were you. We missed you—especially when Emma and Joshua made such a grand entrance. Peopl
e are going to be talking about it for weeks.”
“I heard about it, never fear. I wish I had been there, but I didn’t feel well.” She got the needle going again. “Cramps.”
It would have been more than cramps. It would have been confirmation that, for one more month, there was no possibility of a baby. The ache in Emma’s heart deepened to include empathy for Carrie. It was bad enough to be bereaved once or twice in a lifetime. But to wait every month, only to find out that the little life you hoped for had been taken away yet again…that would be ongoing. A relentless, unending bereavement.
Amelia caught her eye and Emma brought the conversation back into the safer, clearer shallows of her love life. “Yes, Joshua made sure we arrived as a couple, and I let him. But oh, my friends, I’ve been going over and over it in my mind and I can’t get any further. Maybe you can help me if we talk it out.”
“Is it so hard to care for him?” Carrie asked softly. “Joshua, I mean.”
“Imagine if he were courting you when all the time you cared about Melvin. How would you feel?”
Carrie nodded. “If Melvin didn’t care, that would be a problem. What’s that saying about the bird in the hand?”
“That’s exactly what it is. Do I take the bird in the hand, because the one in the bush will never love anyone but his wife, no matter if they’re separated or not?” Emma hated the way her voice trembled. But her whole heart was in this conversation. She couldn’t help it if all her emotions were involved, too.
“Emma,” Amelia said gently. “You must put Grant aside and not think of him anymore. God has closed that door, and it’s wrong to keep knocking on it.”
“You’re right.” Emma sighed. “I know. I have to stop nourishing these feelings.”
“Give someone else a chance,” Carrie said. “You may find that God knows what He’s doing after all.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Joshua Steiner liking you,” Amelia said. “I can’t blame him a bit. And who knows? There may be other people out there who like you, too.”
Carrie finished the seam and snipped the threads. “There’s nothing to make a man take notice like another man taking notice.”
“Thus speaks the voice of experience,” Amelia said to no one in particular.
“I’m just telling the truth.”
Emma laughed. It was all so unlikely, as if they were talking about someone else altogether. “Well, now I’m prepared, anyway.”
“Emma.” Carrie got up and gave her a hug. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that love is the last thing you can prepare for.”
May 30, 2012
Dear Emma,
It was great to meet you here in New York and I hope you had as good a time as I did. I appreciated getting to know you a little, and learning about life in your world.
I know you don’t want to publish the book, but things do change. If you ever change your mind, I hope you’ll think of me.
In the meantime, please let me know if you’re in the city again. I’d really like to see you and catch up on your news.
My best to you,
Tyler West
Emma pushed open the door of the bulk goods store with her rear end, gripped the three carry bags in each hand, and maneuvered her way out. When the door finished its arc without the help of her posterior, she nearly lost her balance and did a quick dance step before she found it again. Jerking her head up, she found herself face to face with Calvin King, one of Martin King’s four brothers. She couldn’t remember if he was the one who farmed with Martin or not. In fact, he was lucky she remembered his name, she was so surprised.
“Wie geht’s, Emma?” He held the door until she got herself and her bags out of it, then bent down to take the right-hand load. “Here, let me get those for you.”
“Denki, Calvin. But you don’t have to. I’ve had lots of practice.” She struggled to hang on to the bags, but then stopped herself. If he wanted to lug that heavy bag of purple onions over to her buggy, she’d be a fool not to let him.
“How have you been keeping?” He put the onions in the back of her buggy, then took the other bags from her, one by one, stowing them with the efficiency and ease of long practice. “You and Lena? She’s well?”
“She needs to rest a lot, but she sews and reads as much as ever.” Goodness. She hadn’t exchanged much more than a Guder Mariye with Calvin King since he’d graduated from school three years ahead of her. Amelia had had such a crush on him when they’d been little girls—back when he’d been slender and handsome. He wasn’t so bad to look at now, give or take fifty pounds. Before she died, his wife had fed him well, and no doubt she’d trained her girls to do the same.
“And the girls? I saw them on Sunday, playing with my niece. They must be nearly eleven, aren’t they?”
“Eleven in February. But before I know it, they’ll be out of school and running around, and I’ll be needing to keep a close eye on flashlights lying on windowsills.”
Emma smiled. “No girl in her right mind would leave a flashlight any such place, for fear her father would do just that. They’ll come out at night, though, just you watch. Goodness knows the boys will be.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He laughed, and when he didn’t wave and walk away to tend his own horse, who had lifted its head and was regarding him with an “Aren’t you coming? I want to go home” kind of look, she shifted her weight and wondered if it would be rude to just take Ajax’s bridle and start backing him up. Calvin cleared his throat. “So, Emma, I’m a plain-spoken man with no skill at beating around the bush.”
Now she was really at sea. Did he need something? “I know that, Calvin. There’s nothing wrong with saying what you mean. It saves a lot of time.”
Oops. She hoped he wouldn’t take that as a hint that he was wasting hers. She was happy to visit with anybody who wanted to, but all the same, they were out in a paved parking lot and it was lucky she hadn’t bought ice cream.
“I’m glad you feel that way. You’re a sensible, direct woman yourself. I’ve always liked that about you.”
Really? The echo of what Carrie had said at the quilting frolic yesterday skittered through her head, and she shook it away.
When she didn’t reply, Calvin went on, “I just…that is to say…well, I’ll just come out and say it. Is it true that you and Joshua Steiner are courting? I heard you came together to the do at Lehmans’.”
That is none of your business. The words trembled on the tip of her tongue, but instead of letting them fly, she took a deep breath. She had never snapped at anyone in a public place—with the possible exception of Karen—and she wasn’t about to start now. Besides, a carload of Englisch folk had just pulled up in the row of spaces behind the buggy parking area, and even though they wouldn’t understand Deitch, they would understand tone of voice just fine.
“It is not true that he is courting me,” she said as steadily as she could. “But we are good friends.”
He let out a breath, as if he’d been holding it. “Ischt gut.”
She raised one eyebrow. “It is?” And why on earth would he ask her such a personal question?
“Ja, it is. Because if he’s not courting you, then he won’t mind if I buy you an ice cream across the road.” He beamed at her. “If you’d like one, that is.”
Carrie had been right. Holy smokes, as the Youngie would say. She had been right, and Emma had laughed and dismissed it, and now she was in for it. Oh, how Carrie would tease!
But telling Carrie all about it later was not going to get her out of this now. “Calvin, I—my goodness, I—”
“Don’t you like ice cream?”
“Well, sure, but—but I have to get home with these groceries.”
“They’ll wait. You don’t have anything perishable in there, do you?”
Who knew that a bucket of melting ice cream would have made such a good escape? It looked as though she was going to get some anyway, though, unless she could come up with a rea
son not to in the next five seconds.
Calvin seemed to sense her hesitation. “I’m going about this all wrong, aren’t I?” It was bright out, but not terribly warm, yet his temples under his hat were shiny with perspiration. “I don’t mind telling you, Emma, it’s been a long time since I asked a woman for…for ice cream. It’s not an easy thing for a man to do, young or old.”
“Why me?” came out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Why now?”
His cheeks reddened. “I thought you might like some chocolate or vanilla, is all.”
The poor man. She couldn’t keep this up. Much as she didn’t care to eat ice cream when it was barely sixty-five out, she couldn’t stand to see a man in such discomfort, either. “I’m more a lemon coconut person.”
“Shall we go see if they have such?”
“All right.” At least maybe she’d find out what on earth was going on.
And so it was that when Mary Lapp clattered by in her buggy with the newlywed Mandy, obviously fresh from shopping themselves, there was Emma sitting opposite Calvin King on the picnic bench outside the stand, licking coconut ice cream like a pair of children. The look Mary gave them pretty much guaranteed that it would be all over the district by suppertime.
It would have been funny if it weren’t so…embarrassing.
“So I hear you were in the big city recently?” Calvin seemed to be enjoying the coconut ice cream, which by his own admission he’d never tasted in his life. “What for?”
“I had business there.”
“What business does a plain woman have in New York?”
A fair question. One that she had no intention of answering. “My own.” Emma crunched up the last of her waffle cone and took the bull by its figurative horns. “But there’s business here that interests me more. I’d like to know what you’re about, asking me out for ice cream when either of your girls can make it for you at home.”
“Anyone might be able to make it, but convincing you to come over and eat it is a lot harder. I thought it would be better in a public place.”
