by DiAnn Mills
“I needed to talk to you this morning,” he said, rising from the rug by the hearth.
She laughed. “Seems like you are needing to do a lot of that lately.”
He couldn’t stop the smile. “Uncle Albert worried again?”
“Never know,” she said. “I guess we need to be careful. So how can I help you?”
“I’d like to buy a dozen eggs.”
“Certainly not.”
Thad lifted a brow in a silent question.
“I know you want those eggs for Emma Leigh and her family. God be my witness, I would never sell food meant for a hungry family.”
“But I’m the one doing the purchasing.” Thad felt somewhere between helpless and frustrated.
Aunt Klara pointed her finger at him. “‘Tis your uncle and I who owe you for all your hard work. Now you take those eggs and don’t say another word about it. Hear me?”
Later, Thad chuckled all the way to the inn. Aunt Klara had scolded him until he’d agreed to take the eggs. He’d carefully printed Emma Leigh’s name on a piece of paper and slipped it between two large brown eggs, and he’d left early so he could set the small basket on the wooden table in the kitchen before Emma Leigh arrived.
Laughter from the inn’s kitchen nabbed Emma Leigh’s attention. Part of her wanted to see if her secret friend had left a token of the season, and the other part didn’t really care.
All morning Emma Leigh had tended to guests and helped the maids change bed linens. She’d feigned the anticipation of the season in hopes no one would see her fatigue. Shortly after she’d fallen asleep the night before, Emma Leigh had been awakened by little Charles coughing uncontrollably. His flesh seared hers. She roused Mama, and they prepared a hot mustard plaster for his chest and gave him chamomile tea mixed with honey. When she noticed Mama felt feverish, too, Emma Leigh offered to stay up with her brother. Mama reluctantly agreed to go back to bed when Emma Leigh pointed out that the children needed a healthy mother. Throughout the long night, Emma Leigh prayed for her family.
Poor little Charles didn’t sleep until nearly dawn, and his fever didn’t diminish by the time she hurried to the inn. She’d managed to carefully write out the Twenty-third Psalm on a piece of paper and place it on the wooden table in the kitchen before Sarah arrived.
The scent of pine filled the air, and although Emma Leigh did not feel like celebrating, the aura of Christmas cascaded around her like a rushing waterfall. Emma Lee forced a cordial greeting to Mrs. Weares as the older woman descended the stairs, her heels clicking on the wood flooring and her lips humming “Silent Night.” The gangly woman looked a bit manly with her severe hair pulled back sharply. The style accented her long nose.
“I received the best gift today,” Mrs. Weares said, fanning herself as though the excitement might cause her to faint.
“And what did your secret friend leave for you?” Emma Leigh said, pleased to see the woman happy.
“Oh…” The older woman turned her head and laughed lightly. “A peppermint stick. Can you imagine enjoying candy at my age?” She fanned her face, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening with each precious giggle. “And I see your gift is still on the table.”
Emma Leigh’s eyes widened. “Mine?”
“Why, yes!” Mrs. Weares leaned closer. “I couldn’t help but see your name sticking out from it.”
Glancing toward the door, Emma Leigh suddenly had an urge to see for herself.
“Run along now. I’ll mind things while you see the pleasant surprise in store for you.”
Emma Leigh scurried off to the kitchen. In all of the worries about her family, should she rejoice in a gift left for her?
As she reached the kitchen, Emma Leigh greeted the cook. “Hello, Sarah. How are you today?” The red-haired woman was busily peeling potatoes, but she had time to offer Emma Leigh a wink.
“Aye, perfectly wonderful, lass. I’ve had a beautiful psalm to keep me content all this morning long.”
“I’m glad for you,” Emma Leigh said, her heart warming at Sarah’s words.
“Indeed. I have a secret friend who knew exactly what I needed today. Yes indeed, the Lord is my Shepherd.”
Emma Leigh advanced across the room to hug Sarah and hide her own tears that threatened to spill over. She fretted so much about her family, although the Bible said not to worry but trust God. Constantly, she asked the Lord for healing and a way for her family to receive their basic needs.
“And your secret friend blessed you,” Sarah said, when the two ended their sweet embrace.
Emma Leigh’s gaze flew to the wooden table where a small basket rested. She stole a look inside. Several lovely light brown eggs nestled together like delicate rolls. Catching her breath in her throat, Emma Leigh nearly cried. “Eggs. Little Charles’s favorite.”
Bless you, my secret friend. Whoever you may be.
Chapter 6
Emma Leigh forgot her aching body for the remainder of the day. She couldn’t wait to get home. Surely the eggs were a sign of God’s healing for Charles and Mama, as well as for Papa’s continued strength.
She spotted Thad in the entranceway just before Papa came by. Her heart lifted at the sight of him. She could only be his childhood friend. Nothing more. He’d be a fine doctor one day and would need a wife who was much smarter than she. But her logic didn’t stop the yearning in her heart.
He smiled, but a guest requested his attention and the two disappeared outside. Tomorrow perhaps she and Thad might have an opportunity to visit.
Thad regretted not talking to Emma Leigh before she went home, but he treasured her response to the eggs. He’d been standing behind the door when she discovered them, and he found it difficult to remain hiding once she shared her enthusiasm with Sarah.
Later that evening, Aunt Klara began instructing him in rosemaling by demonstrating a few simple strokes. At first he believed the art impossible to grasp, but as he persevered, he found success.
“Are you taking Miss Emma Leigh a gift tomorrow?” Aunt Klara said as he practiced two brush strokes—C and S curves.
“I think so.” He concentrated on the task at hand. “I’d like to.”
“Do you need any help selecting something?” Aunt Klara leaned closer, a habit when she wanted to make sure she was heard.
“Not this time. I kept one of the cinnamon sticks from my last trip to Philadelphia.” He arched his back, which felt a bit stiff from bending over his work. “And late tomorrow afternoon I need to drive some guests to the city. Mr. Jones said for me to take my time in returning, so I plan to purchase a few things.”
“What a lovely idea.”
The following day Thad drove two fine chestnut mares along the brick streets of Philadelphia. The rhythmic clopping of the horse hooves mesmerized him as he listened to the sights and sounds of one of the nation’s largest cities, the birth-place of America. He drove the carriage down Chestnut Street to view Independence Hall. Thad never tired of this sight. A mere glimpse filled him with pride. The Georgian-style edifice stood as a symbol of liberty and freedom for all Americans.
He reined the horses right onto Fifth Street and on toward Market Street where he could view Christ Church. Many wonderful stories surrounded this beautiful building that silently commemorated those who had worshiped within its sacred walls and was rich in history. The Second Continental Congress had attended its services, as had Benjamin Franklin and George Washington.
Thad took a moment to reflect on the beautiful landmark before gathering up the reins and urging the horses onto Third Street and on south.
Outside Philadelphia, he passed through a small community that held a sizable dry goods and general store. He pulled alongside, secured the horses and carriage, and made his way through the establishment. Thad knew exactly what he wanted for Uncle Albert and Aunt Klara, but his Emma Leigh proved the most difficult.
When had he begun to think of her as his? Pressing his lips together firmly in contemplation, he realized she
’d always been his—nestled somewhere in a treasured part of his heart. But this time next year, he’d be in Boston attending medical school. Asking her to wait for him didn’t seem fair, but he selfishly admitted he didn’t want to tell her good-bye in a few months. He simply must enjoy the time with her now and leave the rest up to God.
Thad found a warm, woolen scarf for Uncle Albert and a new shawl for Aunt Klara. He felt like being extravagant, mostly because he had the money saved for his education and he didn’t know what his circumstances might be next Christmas—or even if he would be able to come home. So this year he would give his dear aunt and uncle the best gifts possible. A trace of nostalgia for Christmases past when his parents were alive passed through his mind. He allowed a few pleasant thoughts, but when sadness ushered in painful memories, he shoved them all aside.
Practicality ruled a large portion of Thad’s life, and he believed a gift should be something the recipient needed. Glancing about, he saw many things Emma Leigh and her entire family could use. Poverty and indebtedness hammered at their door, and until Mr. Carter repaid all he owed, the family would continue to suffer. Nothing would give Thad more pleasure than to give all of the Carters a splendid holiday. Just to see a spark of joy in those children’s eyes would make him extremely happy, but the Carters were a proud sort.
An idea began to form, and while he meandered through the store, peering at and examining the many items upon the shelves, he prayed for guidance and wisdom.
“Do you need some assistance?” an older gentleman said, his face akin to a dried apple.
Thad stopped and considered the question. “I’m looking for a few small gifts for a young lady, something useful. I definitely want a ribbon for her hair.”
The man offered a smile. “Right this way, sir.” The storekeeper led the way to where bolts of beautiful fabric and notions rested on shelves and a long table. “Would this do?” He held up two spools of ribbon in red and green.
“The red one, please.” Already Thad could envision the bright color woven in Emma Leigh’s dark curls.
“Do you see anything else here that catches your fancy?” the man said.
Thad studied the notions, buttons, and other sewing items. If she were his wife…What am I thinking? Anyway, Emma Leigh did need a new dress, but fabric didn’t fall within his responsibility, nor was it proper.
“A thimble?” Thad lifted his gaze questioningly to the storekeeper.
“Excellent idea.”
Together they selected one. Thad remembered the night he’d walked to the Carter home and the chill permeating the air.
“The lady needs gloves and a thick scarf,” he said aloud.
By the time Thad finished, he’d found a beeswax candle and enough penny candy to give to each of Emma Leigh’s siblings on Christmas Day. By then she’d know he’d been the one to draw her name. A flutter arose in his stomach, and the fear of her shunning his gifts settled like a gray cloud.
As Thad drove the carriage back to the Jones Inn, he added up the gifts and the nine days remaining: the hair ribbon, cinnamon stick, thimble, candle, the deep green gloves, matching scarf, the small box he planned to paint with the rosemaling technique, perhaps some freshly churned butter, and perhaps a piece of bobbin lace that his aunt Klara had made. He counted nine, and the eggs he’d already given made ten. Except he wanted to do more.
Truth be known, he must surely be courting. The thought scared him, especially with the uncertainty of the future. Still, he couldn’t put the idea out of his mind. Poetic words began to form in his mind, slowly at first, then more freely as thoughts of Emma Leigh wrapped around him like a thick quilt.
A candle’s flicker in the darkness,
A fire’s warmth to greet the weary,
Only Jesus shines more brightly
Than my lovely Emma Leigh.
Would she think him foolish? Laugh at his attempt of showing his affections through verse? Thad’s stomach twisted into a painful knot. Giving a poem to her required more courage than venturing to medical school. At least he knew how to study. But with Emma Leigh, he didn’t know what kind of reaction to expect.
Emma Leigh balled her fists and dug her fingernails into her palms to keep her hands warm. Soon she’d be at the inn where a toasty fire would stop the ache in her hands and feet. But what of the little ones left at home? Last night’s snowfall only made her feel more dismal about the long winter ahead.
“Papa, why don’t you and I patch the walls after I’m finished this afternoon?” she said, willing her teeth to cease chattering.
“The drafts are making the others sick,” he said, his voice echoing with despair.
From the corner of her eye, she saw his pallor. He looked so old and beaten.
“You and I could have the chore done in no time. And Simon, he’s able to help, don’t you think?” She tried to sound cheerful, optimistic about the work that should have been completed more than six weeks ago when a heavy rain and windstorm dislodged much of the mud and straw used to chink their cabin.
“You work too hard.” Papa coughed, a deep gut-wrenching sound that seemed to originate in the soles of his feet. Once he gained control, he continued. “I’ll see to it today.”
“Papa, why don’t you rest and let us attempt it together?”
He shook his head, and from the determined look upon his face, Emma Leigh knew not to argue. His pride dug his grave.
At the inn, she kissed him good-bye and hurried into the warm building. How dreadful of her to prefer the atmosphere of this fine place to her own home.
The staff bustled about their work, eager to find out if their secret friend had remembered them. Whoever held her name had been most generous, for two days ago she’d received a delicious cinnamon stick that she had shared with the younger children at home, and yesterday she’d received a lovely red ribbon for her hair. She had no idea who had drawn her name, but it didn’t matter. Thad occupied her thoughts more than any plan devised to celebrate Christmas. She wondered if she appeared ungrateful to her benefactor and quickly asked God to forgive her. But a few words from Thad or his cheery smile meant more to her than material things.
As if knowing her feelings, he called her name from the kitchen. “Emma Leigh, your secret friend left you something.”
She glanced up at his face, seemingly brilliant in his wide smile. How incredible that each time she saw him, he became more handsome…and more dear.
“Again? Oh my, I’m not worthy to receive yet another gift.”
“Why not?” he said, opening the kitchen door for her to step inside.
“I didn’t mean for others to become extravagant.” Trouble loomed over her. She never wanted to cause problems.
“Nonsense. Today I received a peppermint, and I do enjoy sweets.”
She made her way the short distance to the table. Her eyes widened, and she gasped. “Surely Mr. or Mrs. Jones have my name, for the giver is most generous.” She picked up the gloves with tears in her eyes and slipped them on. Her fingers were still cold from the morning ride. “I can’t accept this,” she murmured. “It’s too much.”
Thad moved to her side. “Why don’t you let the one who gave you the gift decide what is appropriate?”
She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I simply feel uncomfortable when I can’t do for my secret friend what is being done for me.”
His eyes reflected a certain tenderness, or did she simply wish they saw only her? Her bold thoughts brought a flush to her cheeks.
“God requires we give our best, whatever that may be,” he said.
“Thank you, Thad. You always have a way of making me see things differently.”
The smile lingered on his lips, and she memorized it for later when the burdens of home threatened to overwhelm her.
“How is your family?” Thad said.
Melancholy crept across her heart, but she masked it as best she could. “Little Charles has been ill, but he’s doing much better. The others have coug
hs and are feeling a bit poorly with runny noses and such. I’m so glad we grew herbs to help them through the winter.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, it will be remedied soon. Papa and I are going to patch the outside walls this evening.”
“Tonight?” He frowned, looking disconcerted.
“Yes,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Would you like some help?”
Emma Leigh shook her head. “Papa doesn’t approve of charity.”
Thad appeared to ponder the matter. “What if I came by for a visit? I could help while I talked to your father.”
Oh Thad, you are so good to do this. “I suppose he’d agree, but are you sure you want to work in the cold?”
“Of course. I’ll send a note to my aunt and uncle, explaining where I’ll be.” He pointed to the gloves. “Please, wear these so whoever got them for you will know you are pleased.”
She nodded happily.
“Would you like to go ice skating on Sunday afternoon? I believe a few from church are planning a Christmas party.”
“Yes…why, yes. I’d love to.” How good of God to give her such a fine friend as Thad Benson.
Chapter 7
Thad knew mixing mud with straw to patch the Carter cabin meant a tedious task. The hard ground and frigid temperatures combined with working at dusk didn’t appeal to him at all, but the thought of helping Emma Leigh and her family set well in his spirit. He remembered when high winds and a thunderstorm did tremendous damage to nearby homes and barns. Obviously those hit included the Carters, and Mr. Carter had barely enough strength to harvest the fall crops, much less repair the cabin.
Within an hour after Emma Leigh departed from the inn, Thad made the trek after them, thankful that he’d ridden his horse to work that day. Taking a quick look at the sky, he realized they’d most likely be working by kerosene light long before they finished the job. Anger swept over him as he considered the arduous task ahead for Emma Leigh. He wanted to ask her father why the rest of the family hadn’t patched the cabin instead of leaving it all for his precious lady.
