by Senft, Adina
She didn’t toy with him by pretending not to understand. “No, I don’t think so. We don’t seem to knit together as well as we did when we were children, do we?” Like trees, they had grown up and out, their branches pushing each other away instead of intertwining.
“I had hoped we’d be able to…and I’m still willing to try.”
“I don’t think there’s any point, Joshua.” Her heart would never unmake its choice, and she had learned that sometimes it was better to be content with nothing than to settle for second best. “I think we make better friends than…anything else.”
“We still have that, at least.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. Katie had dropped Zachary’s feet and was tickling his ribs, much to his delight.
“And I hope we always do.”
Someone had better rescue little Zachary before the tickling got too rough and brought on tears. She flashed a smile at Joshua and ran over to the children, picking Zachary up and cuddling him. Katie giggled and ran to her sister, who was swinging on the gate into Moses Yoder’s pasture.
Zachary subsided against her chest, and Emma soaked in the unexpected luxury of an armful of little boy. Grant Weaver joined her when she reached Amelia’s flower border, and she handed him over. “I’m sorry you had to rescue him from his wild sisters.”
Emma nodded. Do not blush. Do not overreact and get all silly. He is speaking to you as any friend would do. “Tickling is all in fun, but it’s one of those things that can become not so fun all too quickly.”
Zachary put his arms around his father’s neck and closed his eyes. The girls had worn him out. Grant nodded toward the border. “Amelia, she likes flowers, I see.”
“She likes the tall ones. I think these are delphiniums here, along the walk. And the hydrangeas against the house look like they’re ready to burst into bloom at any moment.”
“It would be nice if they did by Tuesday.”
She smiled. “Maybe they will.”
“What flowers have you planted at the Daadi Haus?”
“Some anemones, and the bank of poppies will come up by itself. I also have bleeding heart, fuchsia, and peonies, all blooming like mad.”
“They will show nicely against the white house.”
“They do, thanks to you.” She dared a smile directly at him.
“Showy flowers, for a woman who does not make a show of herself.”
What did he mean? Was that a bad thing? “God made them as they are,” she said a little uncertainly. “As He makes all of us.”
“I had heard things lately that seemed…out of the usual way for you. And now I see that Calvin King has not spoken with you today, except to say denkes for his coffee.” Grant gazed across the lawn in the direction of the expanse where Eli planned the workshop. “This seems odd for two people who are…friends.”
Oh. Oh, my. This seems odd. And personal. And wonderful.
Emma took a deep breath to try to stop her heart from taking off at a gallop. “Calvin was…thinking thoughts that were perhaps…mistaken.”
“Was he?” Grant’s thoughtful gaze met hers. She could fall into those calm eyes and never come out. “So the talk was not true?”
“I—I don’t know. It seems he wanted to come courting, but…now he doesn’t.”
“Why would that be? Calvin is a fine man, and certainly in need of a capable, loving mother for his Kinner.” The way he said it was almost like a compliment. Her very soul warmed with it.
“He is, and he does, but…I am not that woman.” He gazed at her, and somehow the words fell out of her mouth into the air between them. “He would not let me write.”
“Ah,” was all he said. Then, “He did not know who the E.S. is who writes to the papers?”
She shook her head. “He asked me to give it up, but I could not. I would give up writing for the papers if I was married and didn’t need the income, but I could not give up writing for myself. He would want even that, you see. A whole sacrifice, not a partial one, tied to the altar and given willingly.”
Like the noon sun, Grant’s long gaze seemed to pierce every curtain inside her that she would have pulled shut against the light. What was she doing, babbling her deepest secrets to this man? Now he would tell her that Calvin had been absolutely right to require that sacrifice—that a wife and mother should be focused on her responsibilities in the home and not fill her head with nonsense that brought no lasting profit.
Except that it did. For her.
Emma braced herself.
“Emma…a woman like you, handy in the kitchen, steady, kind, loyal…how is it you’ve never married? It cannot be because of the writing.”
The words struck her like a hammer on a bell, her whole body echoing with them. “I…I had Mamm and Pap to look after. And now someone needs to keep an eye on Mamm.”
“But she has a big family, and many children to care for her.”
Drat him. Drat him for asking when he was the last one who should ever want the answer. “I guess I never found anyone to suit me.”
“I think you would suit plenty of men hereabouts. I just saw Joshua Steiner a minute ago, for instance.”
“We are just friends. And I’m not so sure you’re right.” The words fell out of her mouth, and she would have given anything to grab them back and swallow them. How self-pitying they sounded! She tried to put a patch on a bad job. “I’m taller than many.”
“And smarter than some.”
“I’m not much on conversation.”
“Words don’t mean as much as actions do. I think you speak in that way all day long.”
“I’m not—” She stopped. Pretty, like Lavina was. Pretty and sparkling and always saying just the right thing. Yet for Lavina, it had all turned out to be vanity and vexation of spirit.
“Not what?”
She pulled herself together. “Not going to talk about me anymore. It’s time I got back to work before they finish the dishes without—”
Gravel crunched on the lane, and everyone standing outside on the lawn turned as an Englisch car crept out from under the trees and rolled to a stop in front of Amelia’s flowerbeds. A low-slung car that looked as sleek as a cat fed cream every day.
Who could this be? A lost salesman? A guest for the wedding?
The door opened and a man unfolded himself from behind the wheel—a man wearing cream-colored pants and a plaid shirt in stripes of pink and pale blue.
Emma’s blood froze in horror. She knew only one person who wore clothes like that.
“Afternoon. Um, Guder Obed, I guess I should say. They told me at the big farm up the road that Emma Stolzfus was over here.” Tyler West pushed his sunglasses up into his hair and raised his eyebrows at the stunned, uncomprehending faces turned toward him. “Anybody know where I can find her?”
The blood rushed out of her head and Emma swayed, certain that for the first time in her life, she was about to faint.
But she couldn’t do that. Not when every person outside had turned to gawk at her, and more were clustering inside at the windows. And just as the bending wheat indicates which way the wind is blowing, Tyler West had followed the collective gazes of her friends and neighbors and was coming toward her.
“Do you know this man?” Grant said quietly.
Emma dragged in a breath and forced her head to clear. “Yes. He is a…a friend from New York City.”
Tyler’s long stride brought him into hearing distance in just a few seconds. “Hullo, Emma. It’s good to see you.” He shook her hand. “Cold hands. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”
It was obvious to a blind man that he had, but as she gathered her wits, long years of Lena’s training kicked in. “We are having a work party for my friend Amelia Beiler. You remember I spoke of her?”
Amelia came out the front door and ran down the steps as if she’d been waiting all day for Tyler to show up. Tyler held out his hand and Amelia took it with a smile. “Tyler West,” he said. “I’ve heard so much about you.�
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“And we have heard a lot about you, too. You are very welcome.”
“Amelia is getting married on Tuesday,” Emma explained. She would find Amelia later and fall on her neck in thanks for her easy greeting. “We’re helping her get the house and yard ready.”
“Tell me what I can do,” he said instantly.
She looked him over. “I think your clothes would not survive it. Maybe you’d better—”
“I have other stuff in the car. Jeans.”
To Emma’s surprise, Grant leaned in, his hand outstretched. “We can always use another pair of hands. I am Grant Weaver.”
Tyler hung on to his hand for a second longer than necessary—and that second told Emma that he had not forgotten a single thing she’d so unwisely babbled during their hours together in New York. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Please. We do not use honorifics. Call me Grant.”
“That’d be great, as long as you call me Tyler. What can I help you with?”
Tyler didn’t look as though he’d be good for much except maybe drying dishes—or signing contracts. But if he thought the same, Grant didn’t let a trace of it show on his face. “Can you swing a paintbrush?”
Tyler nodded. “I painted my apartment when I lived in Long Island. And I helped my dad paint our house when I was a teenager. I think I can I remember how to do it.”
“I can show you. We’re getting ready to start on the barn. Maybe you could change inside and then join us.”
“Emma will show you,” Amelia said. Clever Amelia, giving her a chance to find out what on earth he was doing here. And wonderful Grant, treating him as he would any other person, and assuming the best of him.
Tyler pulled a gym bag out of the trunk of his car and followed her into the house, where the women turned away and got busy with the dishes as if they had no interest whatsoever in the young Englisch man who had driven all the way from New York to find the Stolzfus spinster. This would totally eclipse any desire to wonder why she had been talking alone with the black sheep of the district—or its newest widower.
Emma supposed she should be thankful for small mercies.
“I guess you’re wondering why I’m here,” Tyler said in the hall.
Emma showed him into the bathroom. “I am, but we won’t talk of it now. When we walk over to the barn we might have a minute.”
He put a hand on her wrist while he held the bathroom door with the other. “Was that—?”
“Yes, it was, and not a single word from you, do you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He was grinning as if he’d just gotten the world’s biggest joke as he closed the door.
Carrie met her in the kitchen doorway, her eyes huge. “Was that—?”
“Yes,” she said in as low a tone as she could. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
“I just guess you will. You sure know how to cause a sensation, Emma Stolzfus.”
“It’s not me. I didn’t ask him to come.”
“I’d like to know why he’s here.”
“So would I, believe me. But since he is here, Grant has claimed him for the painting crew. He’ll be wanting to hightail it back to New York by the end of the day, just you watch.”
“Grant? That’s interesting.”
“You have no idea.”
Emma had never minded housework; in fact, she rather liked restoring order to chaos. But she had never been more thankful for a dozen extra people’s dishes, or for an unending number of windows to wash, because it kept her mind off exactly what might be happening down at the barn.
Why, oh, why had she been such a Plappermaul and told Tyler West the secrets of her heart? With one sentence he could ruin even her nonexistent chances with Grant and make her the laughingstock of the entire district. Just by driving in, he’d interrupted what could have been a real conversation—one that might have given her a little insight into Grant’s thoughts—and had given everyone something to talk about over their supper.
By five o’clock, people had begun packing their rags and brushes into their buggies, and Amelia and Eli stood hand in hand, waving and calling their thanks as people rolled down the lane. Emma planned to walk home over the fields, so she gave Amelia a hug and waved at Carrie as she and Melvin drove out of the yard. “I guess I’d better find out what’s happened to Tyler West. Maybe Grant really did work him to death.”
“I’ll leave you to it. I need to put some supper together for my menfolk. If you see the boys, tell them to come in and wash up.” With a smile at Eli that brought an answering smile of such love that it made Emma’s heart hurt, the two of them climbed the steps and went into the house. Only four more days and it would be his home. In the meantime, he stayed with Martin King, as he had been doing all the months of his courtship.
Emma did her best not to run out to the barn, but it was a close thing.
As she approached the doors, she heard voices—two of which were the piping trebles of Matthew and Elam. Around the back, then. She rounded the corner to find Tyler and Grant up on ladders, painting the last of the boards up by the roofline. The two boys straddled the bases of the ladders, holding on to the sides as though their sheer strength alone were keeping them upright.
“Aendi Emma, look,” Matthew said. “We’re holding the ladders so Grant and Tyler don’t fall down.”
“And it’s working,” she said, speaking English so as not to be rude. “They’re almost done, aren’t they?” She gazed upward. “Did everyone go home and leave you to finish?”
“There’s only this left,” Tyler said. “Grant can’t come back tomorrow, so I offered to stick around and help him.”
The jeans that had started out crisp and clean were now spattered with white paint, and the pink and blue shirt looked as if it had put in a hard couple of hours. She’d expected him to be miserable; instead, he looked elated.
“Bet you didn’t think I could do it, huh, Emma?”
“I can’t say; I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“He’s a good painter,” Grant put in without missing a stroke. “I offered him a job, but he said he already had one.” Emma’s breath hitched in her throat. Had he told? “Some fancy office job in a big skyscraper.”
Relax. Stop this, or you will make yourself crazy. She turned to the boys. “Your mother says to come in now and wash up for supper.”
“But we can’t. We have to hold the ladders.”
This was a male decision. Emma held her tongue and Grant said, “It will be all right, boys. Emma is here to steady the ladder if we need her. You must do as your Mamm asks.”
Cautiously, they released their grips on the wood, as if both Tyler and Grant would slide sideways and fall fifteen feet without them. When nothing happened, Elam told Emma, “You must hold it firmly, so it doesn’t slip.”
“I’ll do that,” she said solemnly. “Off you go, now.”
Both boys ran off, and she looked up again to find Tyler climbing down. “Want me to hold it?”
“Nope. I’m down.” He jumped the last rung and landed next to her. “Those are nice kids.”
“Amelia’s a great mother. Even when she was working at the pallet shop and running her home, she always put the boys first.” Another glance upward. “Grant, you must come down. We can finish this tomorrow.”
“We who?” he asked, and with a flourish, finished the last coat of the last board. “My assistant?”
“Hey, you know I could.” Tyler reached up and took the brush and pan from him, and they waited until Grant climbed down. “But I’m just as glad I don’t have to. Did I tell you I’m afraid of heights?”
“How could you be?” Emma remembered the size of the building that housed his office. You could put this whole barn in the lobby and still have room for a herd of cows. “You work on the eighteenth floor.”
“There’s a big difference. No windows that open, for one thing. Nope, that ladder tested the limits of my endurance. But the good thin
g is, now I know I could do it again if I had to.”
Grant just shook his head. “You should have said something. One of the other men could have gone up with me.”
“And lose face in front of those boys? I’m sure they thought I was some namby-pamby Englischer who couldn’t lift a hand to some honest work. My Y chromosome was at stake.”
“Englischer?” Grant’s eyes twinkled. “How do you know our words?”
He didn’t even look at Emma. “Oh, it was in something I read. Come on, let me help you get all this stuff in the truck. Er, I mean, the wagon. The buggy.”
“We call it a spring wagon, and I’d appreciate the help.”
After they cleaned up, each of the men carried a plastic bucket full of brushes and a can of paint, while Emma folded the drop cloths and stacked the trays on top. When the men went back to get the ladders, Emma fetched Grant’s horse from the field and began to hitch him up.
Tyler slid the ladder into the back and came around to stroke the horse’s nose. “Did you do this?”
“Do you see anyone else around here?”
He leaned in, as if to tell her a secret. “I thought hitching up horses was men’s work.”
Smiling, she buckled the last strap and patted the horse’s flank. “If we waited for our men to do it, we would never get to go shopping, or visiting, or to church either. My sister and I could hitch up our pony cart by the time we were eight.”
“Wow. And here I thought I was hot stuff when I could tie my own shoes.”
Her smile became an outright laugh. “We had to go through that stage, too. You have to start small and work up.”
“If you want to know how to do it, I can show you sometime,” Grant said as he slid his ladder into the back of the wagon. “How long are you staying?”
“Just the weekend, I think.” Tyler glanced at Emma. “Or not. I haven’t actually talked about it with Emma. I suppose what I need to do is work the Expedia app on my phone and find a place to stay.”
“You’ll stay with us, of course,” Emma blurted. “You didn’t mean you were going to find a motel?”
“Emma, I can’t turn up unannounced and expect you to put me up.”
