by Amy Lillard
“Ich liebe dich,” Mary said.
Emily let the tears fall from the corners of her eyes. “I love you, too.”
For once Emily was grateful that she had a room to herself.
She could hear her sisters moving around their rooms, getting ready for bed and such. They were talking in hushed tones she couldn’t understand. Mary must’ve told them about her request to be left alone. No one laughed out loud, no one knocked on the door to talk to her.
Then it was time for bed, and the house grew quiet.
Emily flopped over once again, unable to bring herself to get up and actually ready herself for bed.
Why had her father done that? Why had he asked Luke to leave without even talking to her once about it?
He hadn’t asked. He hadn’t taken the time to find out the truth.
She had worked so hard to get Luke to open up to her. He was so close to giving up his crazy dream of driving a car and instead joining the church where he belonged.
She needed to talk to him. Now. Right now.
She sat bolt upright on her bed. She would go to him. Jah. She would go over to Luke’s house, convince him to stay for a while longer, give his Amish upbringing another chance.
She jumped to her feet, straightening her clothes as her mind whirled in a dozen different directions.
A soft knock sounded on her door. She stopped, sure she had imagined the sound. But there it was again.
“Emily.” Mary.
She crossed to the door and cautiously opened it.
“I heard you moving around,” Mary said.
Emily pulled her into the room and quietly shut the door behind them.
“You’re not ready for bed.”
“I’m going to talk to Luke.”
“You think that’s a gut idea? I mean Dat will be upset.”
“Mary, really. He’ll be furious. But he’s already mad, so what do I have to lose?”
“Don’t go,” Mary pleaded. “Wait until tomorrow.”
Emily moved toward her sister, giving her a quick squeeze. “It’s not like I’m cutting my prayer kapp strings or anything.”
Mary was reluctant to let her go. “Please, Emily.”
Emily stopped, her sister’s tone cutting her straight through.
“It’s dark outside. If you wait till tomorrow you can take a buggy. You’ll be so much safer. I could go with you.”
Her urgency deflated in the face of her sister’s arguments. She sank to the edge of the bed beside Mary. “What if he’s already gone?”
“He won’t leave that quickly.”
“You’re probably right. Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll wait until tomorrow.”
Mary smiled through her tears. “Danki, sister. It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”
Emily felt stiff and conspicuous as she went through her morning chores. As much as she wanted to speed through them and hustle out the door, she had to bide her time.
The skies were gray and dull, promising rain and reflecting her mood. Maybe she should have gone last night. But Mary was right. She would be much safer in the light of day.
She felt terrible about deceiving her mamm and dat once again, but she had to take one last chance to save Luke from the perils of the Englisch world. She should have done more to make him stay the first time. She would have, had she known it would come to this.
Once the milking was complete, chores done, and the family fed, Emily hitched up the smaller buggy under the guise of visiting with Caroline. She gathered a basket of goodies and prayed that no one asked her friend how she liked the cheese bread.
“I’m leaving now,” Emily called as she headed for the door.
“Okay,” Mamm called back. “Give Caroline my best.”
Guilt panged inside her.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?” Mary asked as the sisters made their way to the front yard where the horse and buggy waited.
“I’m sure. This is something I need to do by myself.” She didn’t add that it was best Mary not involve herself in case their dat found out.
“Geb acht,” Mary said. Be careful.
“I will.” Emily smiled at her sister and set the horse into motion.
“I’ve got a little money put away.” Onkle Joseph wrapped his hands around the coffee mug and lifted it to his lips.
“I don’t want to take your money.” Luke took a sip of his own kaffi, using its warmth as a balm to his spirit. He never thought he’d find himself where he was now, caught between two worlds. “I’ll figure something out.” He didn’t know what, but he’d think of something. Eventually.
He had spent a long sleepless night trying to figure out what. He had no money, no sponsor, no job. His future seemed so bleak, he actually considered staying in Wells Landing and joining the church. How crazy was that?
His onkle stood and retrieved a coffee can from the top of the refrigerator. He popped off the top, then pulled a wad of bills from inside. “It’s the least I can do.” He placed the money on the table and nudged it toward Luke.
“Danki,” Luke managed to squeeze past the lump in his throat. He wanted to push the money back, tell his uncle that he’d be fine. But he was only kidding himself. He wasn’t able to say more as a knock sounded.
“Who could that be this time a’morning?” His uncle set the coffee can on the table and made his way to the door.
But Luke wasn’t prepared for who stood on their porch. “Emily?”
His uncle stepped to the side as Emily made her way into the house. “I’m so sorry about my vatter.”
He stood as Emily rushed to his side. “It’s all right, Em.”
His onkle looked from one of them to the other. He took a step back, then started out the door. “I’ll just go see to your horses.”
“Danki, Onkle.”
Emily murmured her thanks, and the two of them were alone.
“I was afraid you would leave without coming by,” she said.
Hope rose in his chest. Maybe all of his nights going to Emily’s house, wooing her while everyone was asleep were about to pay off. “Jah?”
“My vatter should have never come to you.”
Luke shrugged. “I’m not going to worry about it.”
“But . . .”
“Listen.” He took her hands into his own. “I love you, Emily. But I have to leave. And this time, I want you to come with me.”
Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and she shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I want you to come with me,” he repeated. It was simple enough. “We can get married like the Englisch and live out our days together.”
“But . . . but I don’t want you to go.”
She had such a big heart, just another of the reasons he loved her so. “I wish it was that simple,” he said. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, show her how much she meant to him, but he held back. Something in her eyes kept his touch at bay.
“It is. Just be patient. I know you can convince Dat that you have sincere intentions.”
Sincere intentions? “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you, joining the church.”
He scrubbed his hands down his face. “Why would I do that when you’re coming with me?”
“To the Englisch. Nay. And neither are you. You need to stay here, jah?”
They were going in circles. “Is that what all of this has been about? Getting me to stay?”
“And join the church, jah.” A frown puckered her forehead. “What did you think it was about?”
“Me and you.” He reached out then, gently fingered the side of her prayer kapp, a constant reminder of all that separated them. “Just think about it.” He lowered his tone and reached for the pins that held her kapp in place. “We can be together, like we always talked about. Just the two of us. Without the church or your dat there to stand between us.”
She pulled away from him, gasping as her kapp remained in his hands. He
r own flew to her head as if to protect it. “That’s not why I’m here.” She snatched the white linen out of his hands, crumpling it between her own trembling fingers. Her ill treatment of the near-sacred item was proof of her distress. “You are supposed to stay here.”
“And get married under the watchful eyes of the church?” he scoffed. “I want more for us than that.”
Emily shook her head, backing away from him as she spoke. The look on her face was a cross between shaken and disturbed. “There is no us.”
“So you’ve been leading me on?” He rubbed his eyes.
“You came to my house.”
“You let me in,” he countered.
To his dismay, tears rose in her eyes. “This was a mistake. I was wrong to come here.” She stumbled toward the door.
“Emily,” he called after her, but she waved away his plea.
“I’ll pray for you, Luke Lambright.”
Before he could say another word, she slammed out the door, out of his house, and out of his life once again.
Emily ignored the tears that streamed down her face as she swung herself up into her buggy. She had been such a fool. A stupid, stupid fool!
She wrapped her casted arm around her a little tighter as the winter wind blew. The sharp breeze cut right through her woolen coat. The smell of rain hung in the air.
She had thought Luke had changed, unwisely believing he was finally growing up and ready to live the life expected of him. How wrong could one person be?
She had jeopardized everything she held dear for him. Her relationship with her father would never be the same. And Elam . . . he would never trust her again. Stupid, stupid puppy love. If only she had listened with a woman’s heart. Then she might have seen that Elam’s feelings for her were real, and Luke’s were superficial.
Or maybe Luke really did love her in his own way. The thought made her feel only a little better. At least it stopped her tears.
She pulled the buggy onto the road heading the opposite way. She couldn’t go home. Not yet. She had too many thoughts to work out. Maybe she should head over to Caroline’s. At least then all of her words wouldn’t be a lie.
As the horse clopped along, the rain started to fall. Its patter on the roof steadied her nerves and joined the rhythm of the buggy.
Jah, she would go to see Caroline. Her freind would know what to do.
A thump jarred her from her thoughts. The carriage lurched sideways. Emily pulled back on the reins, slowing the horse to a stop at the side of the road. Just in time, too. A loud pop sounded, followed by a crack. The front right side collapsed.
Emily’s head bumped the side of the buggy. Tears stung her eyes. What now?
She slid open the door and stepped into the cold January rain. Her teeth began to chatter almost immediately.
Her horse, Clover, tossed her mane and snorted as Emily walked around in front of her to check for damage.
The wooden wheel had broken in two, split by wear and tear. Or maybe God was trying to tell her something. She shouldn’t be out on a day like this. She shouldn’t have lied to her mamm and dat. She shouldn’t have asked her sister to lie for her, and she shouldn’t be pinning her hopes on a wayward soul like Luke Lambright. Regardless that her intentions had started off for the good.
She bit her lip to hold fresh tears at bay. Crying would do no good now. Still she wanted to. She wanted to sit on the side of the road with the rain pounding down and bawl like a baby.
Instead she unhitched Clover and led her down the road. Her teeth chattered, her heart ached.
The sound of a car engine could be heard over the rain. She moved farther onto the side of the road. A car whizzed past, the blare of the horn scaring her nearly out of her frozen skin.
She had to find shelter soon or she might freeze to death. A small building loomed in the distance, a phone shanty. Perhaps she could call someone, but she didn’t know any phone numbers by memory. But a phone shanty meant a house was close. There was a driveway up ahead, maybe fifty or more feet in front of her. Once she got there, she would stop and ask for help, whether they were Englisch or Amish.
She shivered as she walked, keeping her head down and hurrying her footsteps for both warmth and speed. She needed to get out of the cold damp before she caught pneumonia. She needed to get Clover to shelter, too. It was no fit day for girl or beast.
Emily turned down the drive. She was halfway to the house before she faltered.
Elam’s.
Of all the farms in all of Wells Landing she had to be at the Riehls’.
She squinted and stared up at the sky as the rain continued to fall. “I don’t know if this is Your will or some kind of joke.” But she got no answer.
Her father would tell her that God didn’t joke about things, but coming to Elam’s house as a matter of God’s will was more than she could fathom at the moment. She ducked her head and continued on.
She led Clover into the barn, shutting her in a stall with the promise to return with a blanket and a brush. Clover snorted her consent, happy to be out of the freezing rain.
Emily was soaked to the bone by the time she made her way up the familiar porch steps. Wet, shivering, and beyond cold, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.
Noises sounded from the other side of the door. Feet shuffled, voices murmured, then the door opened and there he stood.
“Elam.” Tears rose in her eyes, grateful and sad tears. Then she threw her arms around him as if she never wanted to let him go.
Chapter Twenty-Four
She smelled warm and sweet and even better than he remembered.
Elam inhaled the scent of Emily plus rain and wrapped his arms around her.
“What are you doing out on a day like this?”
She pulled away from him, and it took all that he had not to pull her back. Too much had happened, too much stood between them. It would never be the same again.
Tears mixed with rain streamed down her cheeks.
“Gut himmel, Elam. Let her get dried off, then ask your questions.” Mamm came downstairs, a stack of towels in her arms.
“I’m c-c-cold,” Emily chattered.
What was wrong with him? He led her to the fire, stoking it until it roared with warmth.
“Get out of that wet coat, Emily,” Mamm said. “It’s just holding in the chill.”
She rolled her shoulders, alerting Elam to the fact that he still had one arm around her. He cleared his throat and stepped back, dropping his hold as modestly as possible.
“My horse is in the barn.” Her teeth chattered as she spoke.
“You rode your horse here in the rain?” What was the matter with her?
“Of course she didn’t.” Mamm stepped in, helping Emily shrug out of the sodden wool. “You are soaked to the bone.” She turned back to him. “Elam, go up to Becky’s room and find a dress for Emily to wear.”
He stared at her.
“Go on,” she urged. “Then you can check on her horse.”
His father bounded into the room before Elam could take the first step to completing the chore.
“Emily.” Dat smiled his toothy grin. But his expression fell as his gaze took in all of her. “What happened? Why are you all wet?”
“The wheel on my buggy broke a ways down the road.” At least her teeth weren’t chattering quite as violently now.
Dat turned to Elam. “Go get her something dry to put on before she catches pneumonia.”
Elam’s feet weighed heavy as he headed up to his sister’s room.
“Something purple,” his dat called behind him.
Elam shook his head at the wonder of it all. He could hear their voices as they floated up from the living room. He couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, but he was certain Emily was telling his mamm and dat how she came to be there.
He wanted to believe it was God. That the good Lord had a hand in putting her on their road today, but he couldn’t get his hopes up. His house was between t
he bishop’s haus and Caroline and Andrew’s place. Emily hadn’t started out to come see him. Or had she?
He grabbed the first dress hanging on the pegs inside Becky’s room and headed back downstairs.
But only Emily remained. She was bundled up in a quilt, huddled close to the fire. Her hair had been wrapped in a towel and for the time being her teeth had stopped chattering.
“Where’s Mamm?” he asked.
“Making coffee.”
“Dat?”
“Taking care of Clover.”
“Are you warm enough?”
She nodded and pulled the quilt a little tighter around herself.
He wanted to ask the dozen or so questions spinning around inside his head. Instead, he held the dress toward her hooked on the end of one finger. “Here’s a frack.”
She took it, and he nodded toward the back hallway. “There’s a bathroom down the hall.”
“I know.” She moved past him, the quilt wrapped around her like an overlarge cape.
She returned a few minutes later wearing Becky’s dress with the quilt still pulled across her shoulders.
Until that moment he hadn’t realized she’d not been wearing any clothes under the quilt when he came back downstairs.
The heat started at his collar and worked its way up until his entire face felt hotter than the top of his buggy in late August.
“Here we go.”
He whirled around as his mamm came into the room.
She placed the tray on the table and handed one of the steaming mugs to Emily. Mamm took one for herself and passed the other to Elam.
“You’re a very lucky maedel,” Mamm said. “Buggy accidents can be very serious.”
“I know.” Emily ducked her head over her cup.
Her lips trembled and her chin shook.
Mamm came closer, smoothing a hand over the side of Emily’s face. “Whatever it is,” she said, “God has a plan.”
Emily nodded, and to his dismay two tears streaked down her cheeks.
“I think I’ll go see about middawk.” Mamm started for the kitchen. “Or bake a pie. Or something.”
