Emma heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Surely they hadn’t arrived already? She looked up to see Laura standing in the kitchen doorway.
Laura. Emma had forgotten all about her. She looked at the table. The five place settings. Quickly she went to the cabinet and pulled out another plate.
“Are you expecting company?” Laura asked.
“Ya.” Emma whirled around. “Adam and his parents.”
“I see.” Laura stared at the table again.
Emma hurried to place the plate on the table. “Sorry, I miscounted.”
Laura picked up the plate and handed it to her. “That’s okay. I’m not hungry anyway.”
Laura’s stomach let out a loud rumbling. Emma moved to put the plate back on the table, but Laura put her hand on Emma’s arm.
“I really don’t want to eat tonight.”
Emma met her gaze and understood. She took the plate and piled it with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans.
She handed it to Laura. “In case you change your mind. You can eat in your room, if you prefer.”
Laura took the plate, nodded, and left the kitchen.
Emma leaned against the counter and sighed. The last thing she wanted was to make Laura feel separate from the family, and she’d done exactly that by forgetting about her for supper.
Still, Laura seemed determined to separate herself from everyone who would reach out to her. Emma couldn’t do anything about that.
A knock sounded on the back door. Three taps. A pause.
Two more. Adam’s secret knock from when they were kids.
She hadn’t heard it in years. For some reason that bolstered her mood. Maybe they could get through this meal tonight. She went and opened the door. Just seeing Adam made her smile.
Mamm and Daed are on their way,” he said, his voice low. ““Are you ready?”
She nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Leona dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her napkin.
The meatloaf nearly melted in the mouth. Mounds of fluffy mashed potatoes, beaten to a smooth, creamy texture, didn’t have a single lump. Same with the rich, savory gravy. The buttered green beans were cooked to a firm yet slightly tender texture.
Not a single person at the table had eaten more than a few bites.
She let her gaze pass over Adam and Emma. They sat on one side of the table, Carol and Norman sat opposite. Norman pushed his potatoes around on his plate. Adam fiddled with a green bean on his fork but didn’t bring it to his mouth. Carol had her hands in her lap, while Emma, who normally wasn’t shy about eating, continued to cut her meat into tiny pieces.
Leona cleared her throat. She had to get some conversation going. “Gut supper, Emma.”
“Ya,” Adam said, giving Emma a smile. She returned it, cheeks flushed.
“Appeditlich.” Norman shoved his fork into the potatoes.
“Very,” Carol added.
More silence. Leona stifled a sigh. The tension in the room was thicker than the butter Adam slathered on his bread. She thought about the last time they’d all been together like this.
Mary had been with them.
How she missed her chatty, boisterous daughter-in-law!
Emma and Clara were more reticent, taking after Leona’s son, James. If Mary were here, she and Carol would be talking nonstop about everything from Mary’s grandchildren to who was hosting the next frolic and what food dishes the two of them would bring. She would have set everyone at ease.
Maybe.
The lack of Mary’s presence wasn’t the only thing causing friction at the table. Friction Leona couldn’t put her finger on.
Emma and Adam kept exchanging concerned glances. Norman and Carol barely looked at each other.
Leona tried to engage the couples again. “In for a cold winter, ya, Norman?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. Mild fall, so maybe. Never know about these things. Weather is in God’s hands.”
“As is everything else.” She looked at Carol, who tore off a corner of bread crust and shoved it into her mouth.
Emma put her fork down. It clanged against the hardwood table. She blew out a long breath. “All right, everyone. This isn’t getting us anywhere. We can sit here and pretend everything is fine—”
“Emma—”Adam’s voice held a note of warning.
She held up her hand and looked at his parents. “Adam and I are worried about you.” Her eyes grew wide, as if stunned by her own candor. She looked at Adam. He nodded, giving her hand a reassuring touch.
“As I told mei sohn,” Norman said, narrowing his eyes at Adam, “there’s nix to worry about.”
“Ya.” Carol’s voice sounded strained. “Nix.”
“I—we—don’t think so.” Adam leaned forward and looked at his mother. “Something is wrong. You don’t seem like yourself.”
“I’m fine.” Carol lifted her gaze, her eyes hard as brown river stones. “I don’t know how many times I need to tell all of you that. And I don’t understand why none of you will believe me.”
Leona frowned. Norman’s gaze dropped to his lap. She suspected Carol wasn’t just speaking to Adam and Emma.
“Then why aren’t you eating?” Adam asked. “Emma prepared an appeditlich meal, and you’ve barely taken a bite.”
“Neither have you.”
Adam flinched.
Carol put the heel of her hand against her forehead. She pushed the plate away. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. “I have a headache. I need to geh.”
Norman shoved his chair back so fast it sounded like rusty nails against a tin can. “I’ll walk with you.”
“Nee.” She stood, not looking at him. “You stay.”
He hesitated. Sat back down. Stared at his plate, his shoulders bent.
And Leona suddenly knew what was wrong. A cold dread filled her, and she clutched the napkin in her hand.
She thought she was the only one who knew. A secret revealed to her in confidence, in desperation. One she had promised to take to the grave.
But she wasn’t the only one who knew. And that changed everything.
Lord, help us all.
“Well, that was successful.” Emma grimaced as she poured water from a bucket into Dill’s water trough. In the next stall, Elijah whinnied. She and the new horse were still getting used to each other. When Adam sold his truck to Sawyer, he used the money to buy her Elijah. Although Adam seemed to get along better with the horse than she did.
“Just a minute, you impatient thing,” she said. “You’ll get your water and feed soon enough. Fraas first.”
Adam walked to the other stall. “I’ll take care of him.”
“All right.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. Tonight had been a disaster. They were further than ever from finding out what was going on with Adam’s parents.
“Emma. Don’t worry about what happened tonight.” He opened the stall door and stepped inside. “I guess you were right. Whatever is going on with my parents isn’t anyone’s business but theirs. They made that pretty clear.” The stall door banged shut behind him.
Emma nodded. “I’m sorry. I wanted to be more helpful.”
She spread Dill’s feed and looked at Adam over the mare’s back.
“I just don’t think there’s anything we can do.”
He finished feeding Elijah and stepped outside the stall.
“There might be.”
She rubbed Dill’s nose and left her old horse to enjoy supper. Too bad she and Adam and their families hadn’t enjoyed theirs. “What are you planning?”
Adam grinned and tugged on one of the ribbons of her kapp. “You already know.”
Her stomach fluttered again, a mix of anticipation and anxiousness. “Adam—”
He tugged harder on her kapp, coaxing her toward him. She couldn’t resist. He cupped the side of her face with his hand. “A wedding would give mei mudder something else to focus on.�
�
He pressed his mouth against her ear. “Marry me, Emma.”
His warm breath sent shivers through her body.
“And don’t tell me nee this time.” He pulled back, but not before he placed a gentle kiss on the outer shell of her ear.
“I—I never said nee.” His nearness muddled her mind. She suspected he was doing it on purpose.
“You never said ya.”
Since he’d brought up the subject of marriage, Emma had put him off. Asked for time to think and pray. Still, she never rejected him outright.
Not like he had rejected her.
She pulled away.
But he grasped her shoulders, not letting go. “Emma, please.
Stop running from me.”
“I’m not running.”
“Ya, you are. I know you’ve asked for time. But there’s nothing keeping us from being together for the rest of our lives.
Nothing except you.”
“I think I have a gut reason to be concerned. Don’t you?”
He released her shoulders and stepped back. The lone light of the lantern hanging on its peg cast his face in flickering shadow. “Emma, do you love me?”
She couldn’t lie. “You know I do.”
“Is it the past that’s keeping you from facing the future? Or is it something else?” He paused. “Someone else?”
The pain in his voice propelled her toward him. “Adam, there has never been anyone else.”
“Then how long do we wait? A month? A year?” He held out his hands. “The next ten? Tell me, Emma, because I need to know how long I have to pay for my past sins and put my life on hold.”
She turned from him. “That’s not fair.”
Emma heard him move. When she faced him, she saw he had his back to her. His shoulders were slumped, much like his father’s had been at supper. “Sorry,” he said. “I said I wouldn’t be impatient. And that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“You’re always impatient. And impulsive.” Qualities she’d always found attractive. While she measured almost every decision, he plowed forward. She admired his ability to throw out caution. But she also knew it had caused him trouble and her heartache.
Slowly she walked toward him. With all her nerves dancing on edge, she put a hand on his shoulder and felt the muscles of his back tense beneath his shirt. A sigh escaped him. Her heart fluttered.
How long was she going to keep him dangling? Her indecision was hurting them both.
Maybe, subconsciously, that’s what she wanted. Maybe she knew deep down that the more she put him off, the more he felt the need to do penance for breaking her heart two years ago. He was in pain, and it was because of her.
Now who was being selfish?
“Ya,” she whispered.
He froze. “What did you say?”
“I’ll marry you, Adam.” She laughed, her heart suddenly light, the words easier to say than she’d imagined.
He didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he suddenly grabbed her in his arms and kissed her. “I love you,” he said against her ear.
She held him tight, savoring the words. Every reason she had given herself for not agreeing to his proposal flew out of her mind. This was where she longed to be. Where she belonged. In his arms. A permanent part of his life. How stupid she’d been to deny them both.
Adam let her go and took a few steps back. His breath quickened, and even in the dim light of the lantern she could see his hazel eyes had darkened. The way he gazed at her stirred a desire and deepening love she’d never felt before.
She wanted to feel that way for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER 9
“I thought you should be the first to know, Mamm.”
“I see.”
He’d run all the way from Emma’s, unable to contain his excitement that she’d finally agreed to marry him. But when he told his mother, she reacted with two words and a frown.
“That’s it?” he asked.
Suddenly her face changed, as if an invisible voice had spoken in her ear. She took Adam’s hand. “I’m sorry, lieb. Congratulations.”
Adam shifted in his chair. Her eyes still held a faraway look.
As if she was here with him, yet wasn’t. “But?”
She looked away.
“Mamm.” He squeezed her hand. “Tell me what’s going on?”
“Nix. Only . . .” She once again met his gaze. “I hope you’re sure she is the one for you.”
“She is. She always has been. I’ve been too hardheaded to realize it until I came back home.” He grinned, wanting her to share in his happiness.
She pulled her hand away. “Just make sure you want to spend the rest of your life with her. Through gut times . . . and bad.” Before he could respond, she finally smiled. “Have you set a date yet?”
“In the next few weeks. Probably in January, after Christmas.”
“A winter wedding?”
“Ya.” He studied her for a moment. “Is that all right?”
“Your daed and I . . . we married in January too.”
Why did she mention something Adam already knew? “We can change the date.”
She shook her head. “Nee. You should marry when you want. Does Leona know?”
“By now, probably. I imagine Emma’s already told her.
Other than her sister, we’re not telling anyone else.”
“Even your daed?”
Adam rubbed his palms against his thighs. “I don’t know.
Should I?” When it came to wedding planning, usually the women took over that part. There wasn’t a real need for his father to know about the engagement right now. Adam knew of couples who revealed their engagement to their families only at the last minute.
“Telling your daed is your decision. Not mine.” She rose and went to the sink.
“Mamm . . .” The words died on his tongue as he saw her wiping her cheeks with her hands. “You’re crying.”
Her shoulders dipped. Even her kapp, which normally looked crisp and starched, seemed to droop. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She fled from the room.
Adam leaned against the counter, dumbfounded. Whatever was wrong with his mother, it was getting worse.
Carol ran upstairs with tears streaming down her face. She had tried to be strong, to put on a brave front while she was crumbling inside. But her emotions were taking over. She couldn’t keep up the façade anymore.
She had lied to her son. Over and over. Something she’d never done before, with anyone, much less her only child.
She sat on the bed and closed her eyes, and the memories came flooding back. The afternoon she had gone to see Mary Shetler, just a few days before she died. She had paused unseen in the doorway, waiting for Mary to finish talking to Leona. Her heart broke at the sight of her best friend’s pain. The way Mary reached for Leona. Clung to her hand.
And confessed what had happened between her and Norman.
Carol rubbed the sore place at the base of her neck. Mary’s words had been almost incoherent, but she’d caught a few of them. Enough. Guilt. Betrayal. Kiss.
She fled before either woman knew she was there.
In that instant, her heart turned numb.
But she couldn’t lay all the blame at her husband’s feet.
She had to bear some of the burden for his loneliness. They had grown apart, especially beneath the strain of Adam and Norman’s broken relationship.
She tried to be loyal to her son while loving his father. But so often she had failed. She had withdrawn into herself. Norman, too, had pulled away and sought solace elsewhere—in the arms of her best friend.
Was Mary’s cancer a punishment for that? Carol didn’t want to believe that God could be so harsh, and yet she couldn’t fathom God’s judgment. No one could.
Mary had died not knowing that Carol had discovered her secret.
Discovered the secret, and kept it.
And that secret scraped away at Carol’s soul, one a
gonizing layer at a time.
All she wanted was to forget. But nothing gave her release.
The knowledge festered inside her, eating away at her like cancer, killing her soul as surely as Mary’s cancer had destroyed her body. Carol tended the pain, groomed it with the attention of a master gardener.
Carol knew she had to forgive both Norman and Mary. It was the Amish way. It was God’s way. But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to that point, not deep inside, where it mattered.
She couldn’t bear to confront Norman about his failure as a husband. If she did, she would have to confront her own failure as a wife.
Adam left the house and headed for the barn. How could his father be so oblivious to his mother’s pain? This time he would make his father listen and pay attention. Not just about his upcoming wedding, but about the problems with Mamm.
Inside the barn, the gas lamps cast everything in a sickly yellow light. The animals were already fed and settled in for the night. His father was in the corner, raking the dirt floor. A useless task. His father never wasted time.
“Daed.”
Norman didn’t look up.
“We need to talk. Now.”
His father lifted his gaze. “Now, you say?”
“Ya. That’s exactly what I said.”
“I’m busy.” He started raking again.
“Too busy to talk to your sohn?”
“It will have to wait.”
Adam stepped forward, his hands clenched. “Too busy to be worried about your fraa too?”
Norman tossed the rake aside and put his hands on his hips.
“Geh ahead. Talk. I’m listening.”
“Emma and I are getting married.”
Norman’s lips thinned. “What?”
“I asked her to marry me. She said yes.”
His father sucked in a breath. He looked away and touched his forehead with his thumb and middle finger, nudging his hat askew. “Did you tell your mudder?”
“Ya.”
“What did she say?”
“Not much.”
He paused, then frowned. “You aren’t ready for marriage.”
Adam unclenched his fists. “I love Emma. She’s going to be my wife. Whether you and Mamm like it or not.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand. I thought you would both be happy for me.”
The Middlefield Family Collection Page 28
