The problem wasn’t with Wayne. It was with her.
He took his hat off and swept a hand through his hair. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
“For what?” She resisted the urge to flee the room.
“Your father has made it known that I am welcome to come courting you. I would know your feelings on the subject.”
How should she answer him?
Chapter Seven
Emma rearranged the mugs on her platter, playing for time to find the right answer. “Courting is a very serious undertaking, Wayne.”
He nodded. “I agree. We have no need to rush into anything.”
“I’ve not met your daughter. I feel that is important before I give you an answer. She may not like me.”
“A point well taken, although the child’s feelings on the subject will not sway mine.”
Emma looked him full in the face. “Her feelings matter.”
“Sophie is an obedient child.”
Emma glanced away. “I was not suggesting otherwise.”
“She will accept you.”
“My cousin Rebecca Bowman is hosting a cookie exchange with her mother-in-law at Anna Bowman’s home in two weeks. If you agree to it, I will take Sophie with me and we can get to know each other.”
“I’m not sure that is a good idea.”
That stumped her. “Why not?”
“The Bowmans are not members of my church.”
“Neither am I.”
“I’m sure Isaac and Anna are good people, but two of their sons have brought shame on the family.”
Emma plopped her tray down and fisted her hands on her hips. “And those sons have repented and been forgiven by the family and by their church. Are you holding yourself above their bishop’s ruling?”
“Nee, but a man must take care that his children are not exposed to worldly things. Luke Bowman is not yet baptized, nor are his brothers Noah and Timothy. I have seen Noah using a cell phone, and I have seen Luke driving a car.”
The fact that Luke was still driving shocked her. She struggled not to let it show on her face. “I hope you will trust me not to let your daughter ride in a car with him.”
He seemed taken aback by her displeasure. “Of course. If I did not trust you, I would not be considering courting you. You are known to all as a modest and worthy woman.”
“I am happy to hear that.”
“You may take Sophie to the cookie exchange if you like.”
She picked up her tray again. “Please tell your daughter that I’m looking forward to meeting her. Now, I must get over to the school. I promised Lillian Keim that I would help her with the children’s costumes for the Christmas play. Good day.”
* * *
Luke had never been more tempted to listen at the keyhole in his entire life. He wanted to know how serious Emma was about Wayne. How serious Wayne was about her. Did he love her? Did she love him? The thought brought a sick feeling to Luke’s stomach.
Instead of eavesdropping, Luke had forced his feet to head for home. Emma’s relationship with Wayne was none of his business.
Telling himself that and actually accepting the fact were two different sides of the same coin. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t bear the idea of the two of them together. Luke knew Emma would make up her own mind and he had no say in that. Once he might have, but not anymore.
Before long, he approached the school yard. Two new snowmen stood waving their twig arms at passersby. The bright sunshine had melted the snow into perfect snowball-making conditions and it was clear the schoolchildren had taken advantage of it during their recess.
Luke scooped up a handful and packed it into a ball. He took aim at the nearest snowman, imagining it was Wayne and let fly. He missed.
He made a second snowball and tried again. He went wider this time.
Great. He couldn’t best an imaginary version of Wayne. How could he hope to best the real man? Certainly not with a snowball.
“You’re out of practice.”
Luke looked down the road and saw Timothy approaching. Scooping up a handful of snow again, Luke grinned at his brother. “Maybe I’m better with a moving target.”
He fired and the snowball splattered against Timothy’s dark coat. Feeling vindicated, Luke kept walking toward his brother. He wasn’t surprised when Timothy nailed him with a snowball in return. He deserved it.
Dusting the crystals from his coat, Luke waited until Timothy was beside him. His brother brushed at his own coat. “As much as I would enjoy a full-scale war with you, I’m already late for my appointment.”
“Your appointment with the pretty schoolteacher?” To Luke’s surprise, Timothy blushed. So he did like Teacher Lillian.
“I volunteered to help with the Christmas pageant sets and clean the stable. That’s all.”
Luke winked at him. “That is very community-minded of you.”
“The school can use more help. What are you doing this evening?”
What was he doing? Nothing but moping over Emma’s relationship with Wayne. Working with schoolkids wasn’t Luke’s thing, but he could happily give his brother a hand. “Unless there is work waiting for me at home, I’m free. I could help you.”
“Samuel has everything in hand at home.”
“Goot. What kind of set are we building? Hannah said the program would be about the shepherds.”
“I notice you didn’t volunteer for stable work.”
“You’re much more suited to that job. I have an artistic flair.”
“I’m not sure what Lillian has planned, but whatever it is, I’ll build it for her.”
Timothy was the middle brother. Luke and Samuel were older. Joshua and Noah were both younger. Timothy was the easygoing one. He liked helping people. He had a knack for fixing machinery that rivaled Luke’s and a winning way with customers. Luke was glad if his little brother had found a woman to make him happy.
The school doors opened and the scholars came walking out. They stayed in orderly two-by-two formations until they reached the bottom of the steps. Then they rushed across the school grounds. Some headed for home on foot while others waited to be picked up by the line of buggies approaching on the roadway. Snowballs began flying almost immediately followed by shrieks and shouts.
Hannah was among the last to come out. Bella got up from her rug, raced down the steps and frolicked beside the child in the snow. A number of children stopped to give her a goodbye pat before heading off. Hannah waved to Timothy and Luke, but walked on with another girl about her own age.
Lillian Keim stood on the top step waiting as Luke and Timothy approached. She kept her gaze down as befit a demure Amish maiden. “I want to thank you again for your offer of help, Timothy. The children deeply appreciate it.”
Luke couldn’t detect a hint of her feelings about his brother in her manner or her words.
Timothy said, “I hope you don’t mind that I have brought Luke to help.”
“Not at all. Come in. A few of the eighth-grade children are staying over to help as well.”
Luke followed the teacher and Timothy into the building. It was the same school all the Bowman brothers had attended. Inside, it was as if nothing had changed except for the art posters drawn by childish hands that adorned a strip of corkboard above the blackboard. Luke fondly remembered the prize he had won for the best drawing of a horse in the second grade.
The same oversize desk sat on a raised platform at the front. Even the teacher’s chair was the same one Luke remembered. He had loosened the wheels on it so that when his teacher sat down it teetered precariously, scaring the woman half to death. He’d had to write an apology one hundred times on the blackboard while the other kids were outside playing ball. As painful as that was, it paled in co
mparison to his father’s stern punishment that night. He wondered if any of Lillian’s scholars had pulled such pranks on her and decided they had. Boys were boys, after all.
The student desks were arranged from smallest to adult-size in rows either side of a wide center aisle. The plain oak planks of the floor were scuffed and scratched, but swept clean, a task assigned to the oldest girls in turn. The tall windows on each side of the single room let in plenty of light. Only the squat black coal stove was missing from its place near the front of the room. He turned to Timothy. “They got rid of that stove after I had to carry a ton of coal in when I was here?”
“The school board decided putting a new propane furnace in the basement was a better investment than buying and storing coal.”
It was toasty warm in the building. “I wish they had come to that conclusion before I left school.”
He saw Alvin with two other boys standing on one side of the teacher’s desk while four young girls stood on the other side. The girls were busy exchanging ideas about the program. The boys were busy trying not to look bored.
Lillian addressed the group. “We are waiting on one more volunteer to get this planning meeting started. I want to thank everyone for staying after to help.”
The outside door opened. Luke turned to see Emma rush in. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
She came to a dead stop when she caught sight of him.
* * *
What was Luke doing here?
Emma sought Lillian’s gaze and arched an eyebrow in query. Lillian shrugged, looking sorry for the situation.
She said, “You aren’t late. Now that you are here, we can get started.”
Emma pulled off her cape and bonnet, laying them on one of the chairs. Lillian opened a sketchbook on her desk. “We are going to tell the Christmas story from the view of the shepherds tending their flocks.”
“We can glue cotton balls to Alvin and make him a sheep,” Abram Shetler suggested as he nudged Alvin. He was one of her brother’s friends and in the same grade.
The other boy, Jacob Weaver, laughed and said, “Baa, baa.”
The girls giggled. Alvin rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.
Lillian gave them a stern look, and they fell silent.
Emma came up to the desk. Luke took a step back, placing Timothy between them. She refused to look his way. “What kind of costumes do you have in mind?”
“Four shepherds, nine angels, Mary, Joseph and the innkeeper. Is that too much?”
Emma shook her head. “I’m sure some of the mothers will help with the sewing.”
“What do you want for sets?” Timothy asked.
Lillian tentatively pushed her sketchbook toward him. “I thought of having the children paint two backdrops. One depicting the hills and sheep, and the other depicting the stable and inn in Bethlehem.”
He studied her drawing. “You’ll need some way to affix them to the wall and yet allow them to be changed easily.” He looked at Luke. “What do you think? You’re the artist in the family.”
Emma had seen the brightly painted and decorated gourd birdhouses that Luke’s mother sold in her gift shop. Luke did indeed have an artist’s touch.
He rubbed his jaw as he studied Lillian’s drawings. “I’d paint them on canvas and tack the canvas to a freestanding frame. Paper will tear too easily. Have the hills painted on one side, turn the frame around and have Bethlehem on the other side.”
Lillian brightened and gave Luke a sweet smile. “That’s a wonderful idea. That way, we could start the story at the inn, turn the panel and have the shepherd’s part and then turn it back once more to the stable scene. How large could you make it? Could you design it so that it wouldn’t tip over easily? Is it too worldly for an Amish school program?”
“I don’t think so,” Timothy said quickly. “Not if the children paint it. We could make it six feet high and six feet wide. Would that be large enough?”
Luke paced off the platform that held the desk and would serve as the stage for the children. “We’ve got fifteen feet to work with. Why not make two panels and have the backgrounds be twice as big. That way Bishop Beachy can see it without his eyeglasses.”
They all chuckled. The bishop was well-known as a man who was forever leaving his glasses somewhere.
Lillian folded her sketchbook closed. “These are very good suggestions. I hope our production will be one of the best yet. The children and all their families look forward to this each year.”
Emma knew that was true. It was the one time of year when Amish children were encouraged to perform. The programs she had participated in during her school years were among her fondest memories. She glanced at Luke. Did he recall the time he had played Joseph and she had played Mary when they were in the third grade? It had been the beginning of her crush on him. One that had never faded. Even to this day.
With blinding clarity, she knew it was true. He was and always would be her first love. That would never change.
Was she foolish to consider marrying someone else when Luke still held a place in her heart? Would it be fair to ask a husband to live in the shadow of another man?
Luke said he had changed, but she wasn’t a naive teenager anymore. She would have to know with absolute certainty that he would remain Amish before she would consider letting him into her heart again. If he had any interest, and she hadn’t seen a clear sign of that.
“What do you think, Emma?”
Jerked back to the present by Lillian’s question, Emma flushed. “I’m sorry. I was daydreaming.”
“I asked if you thought the children could paint such large pictures.”
“If someone were to draw the lines and lay out what colors were to be used, I’m sure the children could follow the directions. You might want to give the younger ones the simpler parts to color.”
Lillian looked at her girls. “Are you prepared to take this on?”
“Ja, Teacher. We can do it,” they agreed together.
“Emma, would you be able to supervise them?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have my hands full with our store and making costumes.” As much as she wanted to help her friend, she knew her limits.
“I’ll oversee the painting part of the project,” Luke said. “Timothy and the boys can build the frames and make sure they are easy to move but hard to tip over.”
Lillian pressed her lips together. Emma knew she was considering if it was proper to allow Luke, an unmarried man, to supervise the young women under her care.
Lillian looked at Emma. “If I can find someone else to make the costumes, will you help Luke and the girls with the painting?”
The young teacher’s expression told Emma she was sorry for putting her in an awkward situation but she had little choice. Emma nodded in understanding. The program was important. “I can help paint.”
Not only would she have to have Luke at the store every day until it was done, she’d have to see him in the evenings, too.
Lillian smiled wanly. “Danki.”
Timothy turned to Luke. “Do you think Mary and Mamm would help with the costumes?”
Luke shrugged. “Mary likes to sew. We can ask. After all, Hannah told me she is going to be one of the angels, so Mary may already be expecting to make something.”
Emma glanced at Luke. He was gazing at her intently. Why? What was he thinking?
* * *
“Mamm, what do you know about Wayne Hochstetler?”
Luke stayed behind in the kitchen after supper was finished that evening. His father and his brothers had all gone into the other room to discuss what would be needed in the business while Isaac and Anna were on vacation. Luke sat staring into the half-empty glass of milk in his hand. He had been given the opportunity to spend time working with Emma. He couldn
’t deny he liked the idea, but was it too little too late? How could he know?
His mother dried her hands on a towel. “About Wayne Hochstetler? Not much, really. He’s a widower. His wife passed away two years ago after a brief illness. He has a five-year-old daughter. His father is the bishop of their district. Why are you interested?”
“I ran into Wayne at Zachariah’s again today.”
“Wayne’s father and Zachariah are neighbors, and they’ve always been close friends, although they belong to different church districts.”
“I had the feeling he was there to see Emma.”
“Really? I guess that’s not surprising. She would make a good wife and a good mother for his daughter. She has had plenty of practice raising those brothers of hers.”
“You think it would be a good match?”
“I couldn’t say one way or the other. The important thing is if the couple believes it’s a good match. It takes a lot of prayer to decide on a spouse. They must be sure it is the path chosen by God for them. Why this interest in Wayne?”
“No reason.” He rolled the glass between his hands.
His mother chuckled. “Let me rephrase my question. Why this sudden interest in Emma’s courtship?”
“I don’t know that she is being courted.” He propped his elbows on the table.
“I always thought you two would make a match of it.”
He shook his head. “Emma is too good for me.”
“So you are looking for a floozy.”
He started laughing. “Do you even know what a floozy is?”
“A woman with a poor reputation that is well deserved. I was not born yesterday.”
“And how many floozies do you know?”
“I shall leave you to wonder about that. Emma is not too good for you. You’re mistaken about that. You have a kind heart, Luke, but you won’t give up your crutch.”
“What crutch is that?” He knew the answer but wondered if his mother did.
“Your guilt. You wield it like a club to beat away the goodness of others and to keep happiness from your door.”
An Amish Noel Page 8
