An Amish Noel

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An Amish Noel Page 4

by Patricia Davids


  Emma pulled off her bonnet, too, and dropped her gaze to her hands. “I haven’t thanked you for saving his life, Luke.”

  “You’re welcome.” He’d dive in a freezing river again if she would just smile at him—say she forgave him.

  She didn’t. She left the room and followed Rebecca upstairs.

  * * *

  “You can’t still be mad at him after all these years.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Emma avoided eye contact with her cousin.

  “I saw the look you gave Luke. If your eyes were a frying pan and Luke was an egg, he’d be burned to a crisp.”

  “You’re being silly. He’s right. I couldn’t care less about what he does or where he goes.” And that was exactly how she would behave from now on. She wasn’t about to be known as a weak-willed old maid carrying a torch for someone who didn’t love her.

  “I’m beginning to think you care more about Luke than you’re letting on.” Rebecca paused to knock on a door halfway down the hall.

  “Come in.” Roy’s muffled voice smote Emma’s conscience. She should be worrying about him, not about what Rebecca or anyone else thought of her relationship with Luke.

  Emma pushed open the door. Her brother was sitting up in bed with a checkerboard on his legs. Noah, the youngest Bowman son, was sitting beside his bed on a chair. He looked up and smiled. “You have fine timing. He was about to beat me.”

  “For the third straight game,” Roy added.

  Emma marched up to the bed and propped her hands on her hips. “For someone who cheated death, you look pretty good to me.”

  He sank back against the pillows. “I’m still shook up, shveshtah.”

  “I hope you are. Your foolishness could have put you in an early grave.”

  Rebecca came to her side, her arms crossed over her chest. “He looks a lot better than he did yesterday.”

  Emma bent to capture his face between her hands. She planted a kiss on his forehead, which he promptly wiped away. “He looks wunderbar. Can I take him home?”

  “Maybe. I need to examine him first. Hold your arms straight out to your sides, Roy.”

  He did. She nodded and made a small sound of approval. “Does that hurt?”

  “Nee.”

  “Goot. Open wide and stick out your tongue, but keep your arms up.” He did and she bent closer to examine him. “Now, flap your arms up and down.”

  He shot her a quizzical look, but did as she asked.

  Rebecca glanced at Emma, but couldn’t keep a straight face. “Does he look like a baby bird getting ready to fly the coop?”

  Emma nodded. “He does.”

  “Then I think he’s ready to be released.” Rebecca took a step back as Roy glared at her. Noah started laughing and almost fell off his chair.

  “Ha! Ha! Very funny, cousin.” Roy tossed his covers back, sending the checkers flying.

  “That’s a good one, Rebecca.” Noah slapped his thigh and kept laughing. “I’m gonna call him Birdie Roy from now on. A fella needs a nickname for sure. Birdie Roy. Tweet, tweet.”

  Roy fumed at Noah. “I’m going to get dressed. Where are my clothes?”

  “Mamm washed them. I’ll fetch them for you unless you’ve got a hankering to go sit on the clothesline for a spell. Tweet, tweet.” Noah left the room, still chuckling.

  “Now look what you did. I’ll never hear the end of this.” Roy folded his arms over his chest.

  “See you later, little cousin.” Laughing, too, Rebecca waved and left the room.

  Emma gave her brother a quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right. Forgive our teasing.”

  “I guess I have to. But if Noah keeps this up, he’s gonna get a snowball in the face the next time he steps outside.”

  “Vengeance is not our way,” Emma chided. Roy was still such a child. He would need to grow up so fast once their father was gone. It hurt to think of the pain he would soon go through when he learned the news. Maybe her father was right. Maybe the boys deserved this one last happy Christmas. She would do that for them.

  “I’ll put a handful of snow down his back if it will make you feel better,” Luke offered from the doorway. “That’s not vengeance, it’s brotherly love.” He came into the room with a bundle of clothes in his hands. “Mamm sent me up with these.”

  Emma’s heart did its funny skip, but she quickly ignored the sensation. “Danki, Luke. As soon as he is dressed, I’ll take him off your hands. My buggy is outside.”

  She left the room so her brother could have some privacy. Luke followed her into the hall and stopped close beside her. Too close. She could see the gray flecks in his blue eyes when she looked into his face. The soap he used accentuated his own unique masculine scent. It must be one of Rebecca’s. She made a number of herb-infused bars that smelled delightful. Emma was sure she hadn’t smelled this one before. She breathed in deeply, not wanting to exhale.

  How foolish was that? As soon as she decided she wasn’t going to care what Luke did, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  “Tell your father that I’ll be over first thing Monday morning.”

  “All right.”

  He hesitated, then said, “I don’t want to make things uncomfortable for you, Emma. Are you sure you are okay with this?”

  He looked truly concerned about her. How was she supposed to answer him?

  “Luke, it doesn’t matter to me if you work for my father. So long as you keep true to the teachings of our faith.”

  His eyes went from warm to frosty in a heartbeat. “You mean stay away from drugs.”

  If he was angry with her, so much the better. “You know what I mean. Our faith has many rules, and you like bending the rules.”

  “What if I say that I’ve changed? Would you believe me?”

  “I would pray fervently that is true.”

  “Not exactly what I wanted to hear.”

  She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “It’s the best I can do.”

  “Then maybe I should tell your father I’ve changed my mind.” He pulled back. A shadow slipped across his eyes.

  Was it pain? Had she hurt him? That was never her intention. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s best to get our feelings out in the open. I’ll speak to your father tomorrow.”

  This wasn’t about her feelings. It was about her father and what he needed. “Nee, Luke. Daed can use the help. He’s not been well. You would be doing him a great favor if you came to work for him.”

  “There are a lot of fellows he could hire to help.”

  “But you understand machines. You will know what can be fixed and what is junk fit only for scrap. At least he’ll make a little money off that.”

  “And making money is important, isn’t it? Of course it is. What woman wants to go into a marriage empty-handed?”

  She drew back in shock. “Marriage? Who said anything about marriage?”

  “Zachariah mentioned it in passing.”

  Her cheeks burned with humiliation. Was her father trying to force her hand by spreading the story that she was about to wed? She pressed her lips together. “He shouldn’t have said anything. Nothing is decided.”

  “I understand. Amish couples like to keep things secret. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”

  “Danki.” But she was going to have plenty to say to her father.

  Luke’s gaze softened. “Whoever he is, Emma, he’s a fortunate man.”

  His eyes pulled at her heartstrings, making her long to move into his arms and rest her head on his shoulder the way she once had. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

  Roy came out of the bedroom. “I’m ready.”

  Emma tore her gaze away from Luke. “I have to go.”

 
; She followed her brother down the hall. At the stairwell, she glanced back and saw Luke was still watching her. Was it a trick of the light, or did she see regret in his eyes?

  Chapter Four

  On Saturday afternoon, Emma traveled to the home of her friend, Lillian Keim. Lillian was the teacher at Alvin’s school, but the two women had been friends since the cradle. It had been Lillian who listened to Emma pour out her grief when Luke left. Lillian’s family had moved away not long afterward, leaving Emma to tell her friend how well she was recovering through letters. It was easier to bend the truth in writing. Then, two years ago, Lillian, her parents, her brother and her new little sister had returned to Bowmans Crossing so that Lillian could take the teacher’s post that had opened up. Emma was delighted to find they picked up their friendship right where they left off.

  As Emma stopped her horse in front of Lillian’s house, she recognized her cousin Rebecca’s buggy tied to the hitching rail. The three of them were the planning committee for the school’s Christmas program.

  “Hello,” Emma called as she entered the house.

  “We’re in the living room,” Lillian called back.

  Emma crossed the kitchen and turned the corner to see Rebecca and Rebecca’s mother, Ina Fisher, sitting on the sofa with cups of tea in their hands. Lillian sat in a chair facing them. She gestured toward another chair beside her. “Come and sit here. I was just telling Rebecca and your aenti your news. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “What news? Hello Aenti Ina. I wasn’t expecting you to join us. How are you?” Emma approached the couch and kissed her aunt on the cheek.

  Ina gave a long-suffering sigh. “Not bad for a woman my age. You young people don’t want to hear about my arthritis or my sciatic pain.”

  Rebecca winked, and Emma knew she had to say something. “I’m so sorry you are suffering, Aenti. I must say, you bear up remarkably well. I don’t know how you manage.”

  Apparently mollified, her aunt smiled a little. “Danki, child. I try.”

  Emma sat in the chair next to Lillian. “Were you talking about Roy’s escapade? He’s fine, although I fear he may not have learned his lesson.”

  “Lillian told us that Luke Bowman is working for your father. That must be odd for you.” Ina took a sip of her tea, but her sharp eyes never left Emma’s face.

  “I don’t find it odd at all. Why should I?” Emma kept her face carefully blank. Ina was well-known as a gossip in the community. Emma didn’t want to fuel new speculation about Luke and herself.

  Ina shrugged. “No reason, other than I do wonder if he will be a bad influence on Roy.”

  Rebecca gave her mother a speaking glance. “Luke is not a bad influence on anyone. Shame on you for implying otherwise.”

  Ina pressed a hand to her heart. “I didn’t mean to speak ill of him. Gracious, no.”

  “I thought not.” Rebecca sipped her tea, but her frown remained.

  “I was merely thinking that Roy is the age when he would find Luke’s prior life exciting.”

  Lillian shook her head. “Prison can hardly be considered exciting.”

  “Not to us, of course,” Ina conceded.

  “Not to Roy, either,” Emma stated firmly, but she wondered if she spoke the truth. No matter how hard she tried to keep Roy from straying, she wasn’t sure she could. As Luke had at his age, her brother seemed determined to live an English life.

  Rebecca set her teacup in the saucer on the small table in front of her. “We’re here to plan the Christmas program, not to gossip about my husband’s brother.”

  Lillian giggled. “Where’s the fun in that? If you will step outside, we’ll be happy to talk about you instead.”

  Emma chuckled. “I hope the art of gossip isn’t a lesson you are teaching our kinder at school.”

  “I’m afraid it is a lesson learned more readily at home than at school.” Rebecca gave her mother a pointed look.

  Ina put her teacup down, too. “Let us hear your ideas for the program this year, Lillian. This Thursday is the first of December, so we need to get moving.”

  Lillian opened a notebook she had sitting on her lap. “My thought was to tell the Christmas story from the shepherds’ point of view. They were, after all, the first to hear the good news of our Savior’s birth. Emma, I’m sure Alvin told you I want him to sing a solo. He has a remarkably beautiful voice. He’s not keen on the idea. I hope you can encourage him to do it. I don’t want to force him.”

  “He does sing well,” Ina admitted. “What song did you have in mind for him?”

  “‘The First Noel.’”

  Rebecca clasped her hands together. “It’s a lovely Christmas song and one of my favorites.”

  “Will the other children have a chance to sing, too?” Emma asked. Alvin wouldn’t want to be the only one.

  Lillian leaned forward. “Oh, absolutely. Since we are telling the story of the shepherds, we could start with the hymn ‘While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks.’ I will have one of the fourth-grade girls be the angel that appears to them. How many shepherds do you think I should have?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “It doesn’t say how many there were in the Bible. I think four or five would be a good number.”

  “I agree. Then I will have the first-and second-grade girls be the host of angels. Eight of them in all. We’ll also need to choose someone to play Joseph and Mary. Who would like to help with the costumes?” Lillian glanced hopefully around the room.

  “I can,” Emma said.

  “What about scenery or sets?” Rebecca asked.

  Lillian folded her notebook closed. “Timothy Bowman has expressed an interest in helping with that.”

  Ina frowned. “He doesn’t have a child in school.”

  “His niece, Hannah, is a new student with us this year.” Lillian smoothed her skirt, keeping her eyes downcast.

  Emma caught Rebecca’s eye. Was Timothy interested in courting their friend? Rebecca’s expression said she had no idea.

  The sound of the front door opening was followed by childish laughter. Lillian’s little sister came hurrying into the room. “Lilly, I got a Christmas present for you, but I can’t tell you what it is.”

  Emma smiled at the girl. Born with dwarfism, Amanda was three years old and a happy, active child. Many Amish families had members who were little people. Lillian’s family was thankful that Amanda had none of the health problems that often accompanied the disorder.

  Lillian’s mother, Marietta Keim, came into the room and greeted everyone. She leaned down to her daughter. “Amanda, your sister has visitors. You shouldn’t interrupt.”

  “I’m sorry, but I had to tell her about her present.”

  Lillian pulled her close. “I’m so glad you did. I shall be on pins and needles the entire month wondering what it is.”

  Marietta held out her hand. “Come help me gather the eggs, Amanda.”

  “Okay.” She rushed to her mother’s side, and they both went out.

  The women spent the next half hour working on the details of the program. After Rebecca and her mother left, Lillian crossed her arms and stared at Emma. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Luke Bowman working for your father. That can’t be good.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me what Luke does or where he works.”

  “It used to matter a lot. You can’t take up with him again, Emma.”

  “Who said I was?”

  “He’ll break your heart again. Men like him always do.”

  There were no other men like Luke Bowman. He was one of a kind.

  She rose from her chair and went to stare out the window. “I’m not getting involved with him. He’s not interested in me. He’s been home over a year. If he wanted to walk out with me, he would have a
sked ages ago, and I would have turned him down. My father is pushing me to wed someone else.”

  Lillian sat bolt upright. “What? Who? Why?”

  “Wayne Hochstetler. Because it’s time I married. I’m not getting any younger.”

  “We are barely twenty-five. We’re not old maids. Not yet.”

  “I don’t want to be an old maid, and neither do you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I intend to remain single, but we are talking about you. Are you walking out with Wayne?”

  “Not yet. This is something his father and my father cooked up between them, but apparently Wayne is on the lookout for a wife.”

  Lillian sat back. “He would be with such a young daughter to raise. It might be a good match, Emma. He’s a steady fellow, hardworking and not bad looking. He has a nice farm. You would have a ready-made family.”

  Emma couldn’t come up with a thing against him except he wasn’t Luke. “If you think it’s such a good deal, why don’t you marry him?”

  “I told you. I’m going to be single and teach school all my days. I love it.”

  She rose and went to stand at Emma’s side. Slipping an arm across Emma’s shoulders, Lillian drew her close. “We have been friends a long time. I remember how upset you were when Luke left and didn’t take you with him. I thank God he had that much sense, but I could cheerfully horsewhip him for the pain he caused you.”

  “I didn’t know you were such a violent person.”

  “Okay, I wouldn’t horsewhip a bug, but I could send Luke Bowman to stand in the corner for the rest of his life.”

  Emma managed a smile. “I can see you have the makings of a great teacher. Please don’t worry about me. I’m okay. Having Luke work for my father has stirred up old memories, but that’s all they are. Memories. I live in the here and now. He can’t hurt me.”

  “I pray you are right.”

  Emma prayed that she was, too.

  * * *

  Sunday was the off Sunday when there wasn’t a church meeting. The Amish had church every other week. Luke’s family remained at home that day. His father led a quiet morning of prayer and Bible reading. Luke tried to keep his mind on the words his father spoke, but his thoughts kept drifting to Emma and the look on her face before she left with Roy. There had been something in her eyes when she gazed at him. Was it possible that she still cared after the way he’d treated her?

 

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