The Gift of Twins

by Gabrielle Meyer

  She took his hand and tried to stand, but her foot caught on the material of her gown, and she started to trip. Ben tried to save her, but they both ended up falling into a drift of snow.

  She giggled and he laughed as he stared up at the bright blue sky.

  When he turned to look at her, he found that she was smiling at him.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I won’t soon forget this.”

  “That’s what I’d hoped.”

  It felt good to be laughing with her again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Emmy sat at the table in the front room, a lantern offering enough light for her to write. The fireplace crackled behind her and another snowstorm had moved in, piling snow outside the window. Frost etched the edges of the glass and painted beautiful winter scenes with feathery white ice.

  Levi and Zeb sat on the rug in front of the fireplace looking through a picture book Emmy had pulled from her trunk. It was filled with paintings from Africa. Lions, elephants, straw huts and dark-skinned people were but some of the mysteries they’d never seen before.

  Ben’s home was so cozy and much more inviting than her own home had been growing up. This house was exactly what she had pictured when she and William had dreamed of coming west. It wasn’t grand, by any means, but it was elegant in its simplicity. There wasn’t an unnecessary room or superfluous piece of furniture, and everything was well cared for and dearly loved. Even the piles of books were stacked with care, having been read and reread several times—nothing wasted.

  Emmy paused in her musing, realizing that it was the first time she’d thought of William and not had a pang of grief hit her or dampen her mood.

  Mrs. Carver opened the kitchen door and entered the front room wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. “I’m about through,” she said with a sigh. “My throats been hurting something awful today.”

  Emmy rose from the chair. “Are you running a fever?”

  Ben exited the kitchen, two coffee mugs in hand. He set them down on the table where Emmy had been working. “I told her to go to bed an hour ago, but she insisted on finishing her work.”

  Zeb left his picture book and walked up to Mrs. Carver, taking her hand in his small one. “Would you like me to help you up the stairs?”

  She patted his head. “That won’t be necessary, dearie, but thank you for the offer.”

  “I’ll see that the boys are put to bed,” Ben told her. “You should take yourself upstairs and get some rest. If you don’t feel better in the morning, stay in bed and don’t try to get up. If you think you need to see Dr. Jodan, I’d be happy to fetch him.”

  Mrs. Carver waved his concern aside. “No need to go to all that fuss. I’ll be right as rain in the morning.” She hugged Zeb and then motioned Levi over. “Hug my tired bones and be good for Reverend Lahaye.”

  Levi hugged the housekeeper and then she waddled to the stairs and disappeared.

  “I hope she feels better in the morning,” Emmy said. “I’ve heard several people have been sick this week and Dr. Jodan is having a hard time trying to keep up.”

  “I’ll pray for her tonight,” Zeb said. “God will heal her.”

  “God didn’t heal Mama,” Levi countered, though there was no censure in his voice—just a matter-of-fact statement.

  It was the first time Emmy had heard either boy talk about their mother. “What was her name?”

  Levi scrunched up his face in thought, but then he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “It was Clara,” Ben supplied.

  The twins looked at Ben.

  “Clara?” Zeb asked.

  “And your pa’s name is Malachi.” Ben looked down at the boys, watching their reactions.

  “Did our pa die, too?” Levi asked.

  Ben sat on his rocking chair and motioned the boys to come over. He pulled them up on his lap, first Levi and then Zeb. “Your pa didn’t die. I’m trying to find him, so he can take care of you once again.”

  Levi’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Don’t you want us, Mr. Ben?”

  From the look on Ben’s face, Emmy could tell the question hit him hard.

  “Of course I want you,” he said gently. “But you don’t belong to me. I’m only taking care of you until we can find your pa.”

  Zeb snuggled into Ben’s embrace and put his head against Ben’s shoulder. “I like living here, Mr. Ben. Can you be our pa?”

  Levi didn’t snuggle in, but he looked up at Ben with such hope and adoration, Emmy’s throat grew tight.

  Ben must have felt the same way, because he took a few moments before answering the boy. “I wish I could be your pa, but I don’t have a wife and it wouldn’t be right to raise you without a mother.”

  “Can’t Miss Emmy be our ma?” Zeb asked, peeking out at Emmy from where he was safely ensconced in Ben’s arms.

  Ben looked up at Emmy, affection in his eyes. “Miss Emmy is a teacher, and besides, it wouldn’t be right to keep you away from your pa.”

  Levi sighed and then he, too, leaned into Ben’s embrace. He rested his cheek on Ben’s chest and looked at his twin brother. “I don’t think anyone wants us, Zebby.”

  Tears sprang up in Emmy’s eyes and she moved across the floor to kneel in front of the boys. “We want you,” she said in a trembling voice. “We love you. But we can’t keep you, because your pa will want you.”

  Ben looked down at Emmy, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. He repositioned Levi so he could look into his face. “I know exactly how you feel, Levi. I didn’t think I was wanted when I was a boy, either. My pa left me with strangers, too. But you know what I learned?”

  Both Levi and Zeb sat up straighter.

  “What?” Levi asked.

  “I learned that no matter what, God wanted me, and that was more important than anything else.” He smiled at Levi and then at Zeb. “I want both of you to know that God loves you and He wants you desperately. All you need to do is ask His son Jesus to live in your heart forever, and He will. You’ll never be alone again.”

  Zeb and Levi shared a wide-eyed look, and then Zeb tapped Ben’s arm. “Mr. Ben?”

  “Yes, Zeb?”

  “I want Jesus to live in my heart forever.” He took Levi’s hand and said, “Levi wants Him, too. Don’t you, Levi?”

  Levi nodded, his face solemn.

  “Then let’s close our eyes and each of you can ask Jesus to live in your hearts.”

  Levi looked at Emmy. “Will you pray with us, too, Miss Emmy?”

  “I’d love to pray with you.”

  “Then close your eyes,” Levi said in a whisper. “’Cause I’m gonna ask Him now.”

  Emmy’s chest felt tight with joy as she closed her eyes, a smile on her lips.

  “Dear Jesus,” Levi started. “I don’t want to be alone ever again. Will you live in my heart forever?”

  Silence filled the room for a heartbeat and then Levi whispered, “Did He say yes, Mr. Ben?”

  “Jesus always says yes when we ask Him to live in our hearts.”

  “Good. Now it’s Zeb’s turn.”

  Zeb took a deep breath and then he forged ahead. “I want you, too, Jesus, just like Levi.” He paused and then said, “Amen.”

  “Amen,” Emmy and Ben echoed in unison.

  She opened her eyes and met Ben’s happy gaze.

  “Miss Emmy’s crying,” Levi said. “Are you sad?”

  “No.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks and then stood to pick up Levi. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

  Levi wrapped himself around her and gave her a tight hug. “I love you, Miss Emmy.”

  “I love you, Levi.” She held him for a moment longer and then set him down and picked up Zeb. “I love you, too, Zebb
y.”

  He giggled as he hugged her back.

  Ben stood and wiped at his face, too, though he hid his emotion better than Emmy did. “Tomorrow we can tell Mrs. Carver the good news, but for now, it’s time to tuck you into bed. Miss Emmy and I have some work to do tonight.”

  Emmy sighed as she set Zeb down. “I suppose Mr. Ben is right.”

  They followed the boys up the stairs and into their bedroom. Ben had grabbed the lantern from near the front door, so they had light to help the boys get ready for bed.

  With one more quick kiss for each boy, Emmy tucked them into their bed and then she and Ben said good-night and left their room.

  The hallway was drafty as Emmy closed their bedroom door.

  “I’ve told countless people about the love of God,” Ben said in a hushed whisper as they stood in the hall. “But never, in my whole life, have I felt such a rush of joy as I did tonight listening to those boys ask the Lord into their lives.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that moment.”

  “Maybe,” Emmy said just as quietly, “the reason God sent them here was for this very reason. Even if that’s the only reason, it’s more than—”

  “More than enough,” he finished for her, his voice gentle.

  She smiled, happy for the twins, happy for Ben and happy she had been there to witness such a tender moment.

  “Thank you, Emmy.” He reached out and touched her cheek for a heartbeat and then lowered his hand.

  “For what?” she asked.

  “For loving those two little boys.”

  “It’s been my pleasure.”

  His face became pensive under the soft glow of the lantern.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I just wish I had heard from their father by now.” His voice was so low, she had to lean in to hear him. “I need to make some decision before Mrs. Carver leaves in three short weeks.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I’m thinking about going to Owatonna to see if I can find him.”

  “I hate to think of you traveling in weather like this. What if a blizzard comes up?”

  He smiled, and the look of affection returned. “I’m honored that you would worry about my safety, but you need to remember that I was a circuit preacher for ten years. I’m familiar with traveling in all types of weather.”

  She didn’t care how much experience he had on the open trail, she’d still worry about him until he returned safely. The thought of losing Ben made her stomach clench in an old, dreadful way, just like it did when she had worried for William—and look what happened to him.

  Emmy’s breathing became shallow and panic threatened to invade as she suddenly realized that despite her best efforts, she had allowed Ben into a corner of her heart that she had tried to keep closed. What would she do if he broke past her barriers and overtook it all?

  “Shall we go downstairs and get to work on the pageant?” she asked, needing some distance from this man who had snuck past her defenses.

  She didn’t wait for his answer, but walked around him and started down the narrow stairs.

  The sooner Mr. Samuelson found her another place to live, the better. It was getting harder and harder to keep her heart safe from Benjamin Lahaye.

  * * *

  Ben didn’t want to wait a moment longer than necessary to leave for Owatonna. The next afternoon, when Emmy and the boys were still at school, he packed his old saddlebags for the trip.

  Mrs. Carver was still feeling ill, but she insisted on getting out of bed and going about her regular chores. The smell of fresh-baked bread wafted into his bedroom and his stomach growled. She was making him more food than was necessary for his trip, but he wouldn’t complain. It was better than the hardtack he used to carry with him when he rode his circuit. Then, he had been forced to depend on the kindness of friends and strangers for most of his meals. He smiled at the memory, missing the old days—yet, he wouldn’t trade his time with Emmy and the boys for anything in the world.

  Though he didn’t plan to leave until early the next morning, he wanted to have everything ready to go tonight so he could spend the evening enjoying his temporary family.

  He had just slipped his small Bible into one of the bags when he heard a knock at the front door.

  “I’ll get that,” he called to Mrs. Carver.

  “I’m already on my way, dearie.”

  Ben was thankful for Mrs. Carver, wishing she could stay on permanently, but knowing he wouldn’t need her after he located the boys’ father.

  The front door squeaked open.

  “May I help you?” Mrs. Carver asked.

  “Is this the home of Benjamin Lahaye?” The man’s deep voice had a French accent.

  “This is Reverend Lahaye’s home. May I ask who’s calling?”

  Ben already knew he was needed, so he stepped out of his room and closed the door behind him.

  “My name is Phillippe Lahaye. I’m Benjamin’s father.”

  Ben held his bedroom doorknob, his heart beating like a wild drum. His father?

  Slowly, he let go of the doorknob and turned around. Mrs. Carver stepped back, allowing Ben to look at his father for the first time in over twenty-five years.

  “Benjamin?” Phillippe Lahaye was a mountain of a man. He filled the door frame, and the very room, with a presence unlike any other. His gray beard was thick and long, reaching down to his chest. His clothes were made of buckskin leather and he wore a large buffalo robe, much like the one Ben owned. The man before him didn’t resemble the memory Ben had of his father—yet, he didn’t doubt this was his father, simply older.

  Ben was at a loss for words. He had imagined this scene a thousand times, yet he never believed it would actually happen—and without warning.

  “Will you invite the man in?” Mrs. Carver asked. “Or should we continue to heat the great outdoors, dearie?”

  It took a moment for Ben to find his voice, but he nodded. “Come in.”

  Phillippe entered Ben’s house with a tentative step, looking around the humble room with a keen gaze.

  “Shall I take your robe?” Mrs. Carver asked as she shut the door. “Would you like something to eat? Perhaps to drink?”

  “We’re fine,” Ben said to his housekeeper. “If you could give us some privacy, that’s all we need right now.”

  She nodded and then left the front room, closing the kitchen door behind her—though he suspected she was still listening intently.

  Phillippe didn’t move as he looked Ben over, a combination of awe and disbelief in his dark brown eyes. “I can hardly reconcile this man standing before me. Last time I saw you—”

  “Do you remember the last time you saw me?” The question came out harsher than Ben had anticipated—yet he didn’t want to take it back. Decades of pain, abandonment and rejection returned to Ben in one instant and he was overwhelmed with the weight of his emotions. “I was six years old. Do you remember? I do, like it was yesterday.”

  Sadness, deep and fierce, filled his father’s eyes. “There hasn’t been a day, from that one to this one, that I haven’t thought about you and your mother.”

  There was so much Ben wanted to say—yet, he couldn’t think of a single thing that would make anything better. Every word that wanted to come to his tongue was laced with bitterness and anger. They would get nowhere if he uttered what was on his heart. The enormity of it frightened him. “What do you want? Why are you here after all these years?”

  “I’ve come for several reasons.” He looked toward the fireplace, which was blazing with heat, and Ben knew he should invite him to have a seat, warm himself by the fire and offer him some nourishment. No doubt he had been traveling for a long time and would need somewhere to stay—but none of these things mattered to Ben right now.
All he could think about was the pain this man had caused him.

  Ben crossed his arms and planted his feet, unwilling to give him even the slightest comfort.

  “I hear you’re a man of God.” Phillippe nodded his approval. “That’s good, son, real good.”

  His father’s statement made Ben feel deflated. He was a man of God, and God probably wasn’t too pleased with Ben at the moment. He loosened his stance and indicated the fireplace. “Would you like to warm yourself by the fire? I will take your robe and have Mrs. Carver bring you something to eat and drink.”

  “I’d like that.” He took off his buffalo robe and Ben set it on the hook by the door.

  A few minutes later, Ben and Phillippe sat near the fire, a plate of Mrs. Carver’s stew on their laps, and mugs of her steaming coffee on the hearth before them.

  Ben wasn’t hungry, but Phillippe ate heartily. Time had been kind to him, Ben realized as he watched him. He was still a healthy-looking man, even handsome, Ben supposed.

  “I came all the way from Montreal,” Phillippe said to Ben. “I left a month ago and was surprised by the early winter.”

  “We all were.”

  Phillippe mopped up the stew with a thick slice of fresh bread. “I haven’t eaten like this since I left home.”

  “Is your wife a good cook?” Ben heard the sarcasm in his voice and immediately wished to recall the words—or, at least, the tone.

  “Juliette?” He scoffed. “She hasn’t cooked a day in her life. I have a cook, Jean Claude, but he doesn’t make stew like this.”

  “I’ll be sure to pass on your compliment to Mrs. Carver.” His tone was dry, flat.

  Phillippe set aside his dish and took up his coffee mug. He turned to look at Ben. “I suppose I should tell you why I’ve come.”

  “I wish you would.”

  Phillippe cleared his throat and let out a sigh. “I had three daughters and a son in Montreal with Juliette. After I left you at Pokegama, I planned to leave the fur trading business behind. I had already made my fortune and I had no desire to return to all the memories here.”