Isaac's Decision

by Ruth Ann Nordin

“I met her last year the first time I brought wood out here.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

  So was Isaac. He felt like a complete idiot to have missed something like that. “All I remember is that you talked to Alice and Emily when you came by.”

  “I was interested in Alice, but yes, I’d talk to Emily, too. I still do from time to time.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure. Emily will be the maid of honor at the wedding.”

  “She will?”

  “Alice wouldn’t have it be anyone else.”

  “She wouldn’t?”

  Ben laughed. “Are you feeling alright?”

  Isaac shifted from one foot to the other and forced himself from acting as if he didn’t know anything. “It’s been a long day,” he finally hedged when he realized Ben was staring at him in amusement. “So, you know Emily? I mean, I know you know her because she’s Alice’s friend, but I wondered if you know what kind of person she is?”

  “I suppose I do.”

  “Well, is Emily…” Isaac wasn’t sure how to word the question. In many ways, he feared whatever he asked would give his feelings away or come off as ridiculous. “I heard about her parents.” He cleared his throat. “Her father and his first wife—her real mother. I was just wondering about it. I heard that maybe Emily might be unsuitable. You know, for marriage or something…similar.” His face flushed. That came out all wrong!

  “Oh,” Ben said. “I see. What is it you want to know about Emily?”

  He hesitated to ask anything, but he figured he already told Ben that he had no interest in courting Eva. So why not just come out and ask? Get the opinion of someone who had nothing to lose or gain from telling him what he wanted to know. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “Do you think Emily is the wrong kind of woman a man might marry?”

  “You mean, would she run off with another man like her real mother did?”

  Isaac nodded.

  “No, she wouldn’t. Alice wouldn’t be friends with someone who wasn’t a good person. I think Emily will make a good wife.”

  “What about her father?”

  Ben shrugged. “What about him?”

  “Well, I heard he had a tendency to go to a place of ill repute.”

  “Had. That was in the past. I don’t know the details of what happened when Emily was younger, but I know he doesn’t do that kind of thing anymore.”

  “Alright,” Isaac said with another nod.

  “Something to keep in mind is that we all do something we regret. The thing is, with most of us, the things we regret are small enough that many don’t notice it. What Emily’s father did was big enough everyone knew about it. Regardless of how big or small something is, if it’s wrong, it’s wrong. The point isn’t what we did but if we’re still doing it.” Ben gave him a good look. “Does that answer your question?”

  “Yes, it does. Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  Isaac backed away as Ben got into the buckboard and released the brake.

  “Tell my sister I said hi.”

  “I will.”

  Isaac waited until Ben urged the horses forward before he went back into the schoolhouse. He hardly noticed the warmth inside the small building. His mind was on Emily. It didn’t seem fair that his father should forbid him to talk to her. Whatever happened in the past didn’t seem to have relevance to him and Emily.

  He set the wood by the potbelly stove. When he straightened up, he realized the teacher was staring expectantly at him.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  With a smile, Eva motioned to the wood he just put on the floor. “I asked if you would add another piece to the stove.”

  “Oh, yes.” He hastened to do so and then thought of the trash which he usually tossed into the fire. “Would you like me to empty the trashcan?”

  “Yes, please.”

  As she turned her attention back to the students, he picked up the trashcan next to her desk and carried it to the potbelly stove. He reached in to pull out the papers and saw Emily’s handwriting. Curious about what book she chose that offended Eva, he glanced over his shoulder. Eva’s attention was on the students. Good.

  He dug the crumpled papers out of the trash and smoothed them out, making sure to keep his back to everyone else, especially Eva, so no one knew what he was doing. Holding the pages, he scanned for the first page and found it. He set it on top of the papers in his hands and started reading it.

  To his surprise, he realized she chose The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner by James Hogg. Even more surprising than that, her summary of the book was eerily reminiscent of what he told Elmer on Saturday. He stopped reading for a moment to look behind him to make sure no one was watching him. Good. They weren’t.

  His heartbeat picked up as he read the rest of the first page and searched for the second page where she began her analysis of the book. The summary had been what he told Elmer, but the rest of it was her thoughts on it. He rubbed his forehead. He wasn’t stupid. It was clear that Emily was Elmer. There was no other way she could know what he said about the book. Dismissing the question of why she would pretend to be a young man named Elmer, he skimmed the next three pages.

  “The conclusion I came to is that it’s our choices that determine who we are, not someone else’s estimation of us. In the book, Robert Wringhim is told that he is one of God’s elect and that it doesn’t matter what he does or doesn’t do since he is saved. So he can do whatever he wants without fear of punishment. He takes this as an excuse to act on his baser instincts to torment—and eventually murder—people, most notably the brother he hated. The author leaves it up to the reader to determine if the stranger was a figment of his imagination or the devil, but either way, Robert committed the crimes. Likewise, we are responsible for how we live our lives.”

  What she wrote was all Isaac needed to know to answer all of his questions. At her core, this was who Emily was, and why their teacher found the entire report to be so offensive that she wouldn’t accept it, he could only speculate. He hadn’t heard most of the argument that took place over the report, and quite frankly, it wasn’t any of his business.

  Isaac considered showing the report to his father. If his father saw it, he might understand who Emily was and he’d stop telling him to avoid her. Maybe he would. Just in case, he folded the pages and tucked them into the pocket of his coat.

  Isaac tossed the remaining trash into the fire before he returned the trashcan by her desk. After he hung his coat up and sat back down, he contemplated what he just learned. Things weren’t as black and white as his father made them out to be. There were many grays he had to sort through, but something he was certain of was that Emily would make a good wife. She longed to do the right thing, and because of that, she would.

  And she wanted to be with him. More than that, he wanted to be with her. Like a fool, he’d been too quick to say it was impossible. He wondered if it was too late. Did he just ruin the best thing that could happen to him?

  He stared at the paper and pencil on his desk where he’d been working on his assignment, but the numbers blurred together and all he could see was the hurt look in her eyes when he told her he couldn’t be with her. He wished he could take those words back. If he’d taken the time to talk to her, really talk to her, then maybe they would’ve found a way to work something out. But now…

  He thought back to the report she did. She’d been Elmer at the time he told her about the book, and he was supposed to meet Elmer again on Saturday at the mercantile. Chances were, she wouldn’t show up as Elmer. He knew this, and he certainly wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. But if she did… It was a long shot. She most likely wouldn’t go to the mercantile to wait for him. But he had to go there, just in case. And if she did show up, he’d find a way to have the talk he should have had with her yesterday.

  Chapter Thirteen

  On Friday, Emily worked
on mending her little brother’s pants. Without school to go to, she experienced a surprising sense of restlessness. She kept asking her mother for things to do, wishing to do something other than read dime novels. At the moment, she couldn’t read one without thinking of her hours in the schoolhouse, hiding them from Eva and glancing in Isaac’s direction. Worse, as she read them, she imagined that Isaac was the hero and she was the heroine. Now she couldn’t read them without thinking of him, and thinking of him was the last thing she wanted to do.

  And so she sat in the parlor and mended Luke’s pants. As she pulled the thread through the denim fabric, she heard her father enter the kitchen and tell her mother that he had to get ready for a meeting with Chester Greene.

  Curious, she stood up from the couch and carried the pants into the kitchen where her father was setting his muddy boots on the rug by the front door.

  Her mother turned from where she was rolling out the dough to make biscuits and wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll make some coffee.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to change. I’ll be down in five minutes.” As he headed for the stairs, he smiled and said, “Hi, Em.”

  “Hi, Pa,” she replied and then turned to her mother. “Do you need any help?”

  Her mother examined the kitchen and shrugged. “You could make the coffee. I’ll finish up over here.” She turned back to the dough.

  Glad to feel productive, Emily grabbed the coffee pot and filled it with water from the pump in the sink. “Is Chester coming to pick up the cattle he purchased?”

  “Yes. Your pa’s been looking forward to this all week. Between you and me, I think he and Chester have become friends over the past year.”

  Emily smiled and set the pot on the cook stove. “I suppose it helps when you get along with the customer.”

  “That’s true no matter what the job is.”

  Emily made the coffee while her mother finished with the biscuits. “Do you want some coffee, too?”

  Her mother washed her hands and nodded. “I might as well. I suppose you can have some, too, if you want. You’re not a child anymore. Actually, you haven’t been for a while. Since you’re not going to school anymore, it makes me realize how grown up you are.”

  “I should’ve stopped going last year.” Her hope that going would lead to Isaac talking to her hadn’t worked out, so being there had turned into a complete waste of her time.

  Her mother came up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It didn’t hurt that you remained in school a little longer. Soon, you’ll be married and have children to care for. And take it from me, that’s when the real work begins.”

  Emily smiled. “I suppose we’re a handful.”

  “In a good way, yes. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say I enjoy the peace and quiet during the day when everyone is in school.”

  Having been home two days now while her brothers and sister were in school, Emily understood why. No one was fighting or getting into trouble.

  Her father bounded down the steps in his new clothes just as someone knocked on the kitchen door. “I’ll get it,” he said as he crossed the room.

  Her mother gave her a knowing smile to indicate how excited he was at seeing Chester. Amused, Emily took clean cups from the shelf and set them on the table.

  When he opened the door, Emily was surprised to see Wiley standing next to his father. She didn’t know why it came as a surprise. It made sense since he helped his father at the farm.

  “Good to see you, Chester,” her father said as he shook his hand. “I see Wiley’s joining you today.”

  Emily stepped to the side so she was behind her father. With any luck, he’d head on out to show them their purchase before he brought them in to drink coffee. By then, she could be upstairs in her room and Wiley wouldn’t see her. She’d had a bad enough week with Eva and Isaac. She didn’t need to add breaking Wiley’s heart to the list.

  “Yes, he’s been my unofficial partner for most of the year. Does a fine job, too,” Chester said, his voice full of pride.

  “I’m sure he does,” her father replied and shook Wiley’s hand. “Good to have you on board.”

  Her mother glanced at her as she continued to back up so that she was adequately hidden from Wiley. She shot Emily a questioning look, but Emily couldn’t give her a full explanation with the men right there. She settled for motioning to her mother to get the men to leave.

  Though she looked confused, her mother walked over to them and said, “The coffee’s not ready yet. Why don’t you go ahead and load the cattle into the trailer and then come back?”

  Her father turned his head in her direction. “We like to load the cattle and then head on out. If we wait, they get antsy.”

  “Oh.” Her mother glanced in her direction. “Perhaps you can check them out to make sure the ones that are going to Chester’s are in good shape?”

  He laughed. “I already did that.”

  “But Chester and Wiley haven’t.”

  “Do you want to check the cattle out?” he asked the two men.

  “We know you don’t breed inferior animals, but since she seems determined to get rid of us, perhaps we ought to humor her,” Chester said good-naturedly.

  “Alright.” He grabbed a cleaner pair of boots and slipped them on, making Emily duck so she was still invisible to the men.

  Her mother shot her another curious look but retrieved her father’s coat and hat before she handed them to him. Once he left with the men, she shut the door and hastened over to Emily. “What’s wrong?”

  Stepping to the table, Emily said, “Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want to see Wiley.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he wants to ask if he can court me.”

  Her mother laughed. “Is that really a problem?”

  “It is if I don’t want him as a suitor.”

  With a sigh, she smiled at her. “You’re a beautiful girl, Emily. You have to expect men to take an interest in you.”

  “That’s my problem. None of them interest me. To let any of them court me would be wrong. I don’t want to settle for someone. If I do, then I’ll probably end up miserable.”

  “You’re right about that. Before I married your father, I married someone who settled for me.”

  Curious, Emily turned to face her. “You did?”

  “Come,” her mother said, motioning to the parlor.

  She obeyed and went into the room off to the side of the kitchen and sat on the couch.

  Her mother sat next to her and took her hands in hers. “My first husband was engaged to my sister. When she ran off to marry someone else, I was foolish enough to think if he married me, he’d eventually come to love me.”

  “But he didn’t?”

  “No.”

  Emily detected the sorrow in her voice and said, “You must have loved him.”

  “I did for a long time. But then I realized the best I could hope for was that he’d tolerate me. I think he always resented the fact that he felt obligated to marry me because my parents forced the issue.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “I actually begged my parents to arrange it so he’d marry me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Emily whispered, not knowing what else to say to ease the heartache that must have crept up from time to time whenever her mother remembered the past.

  Squeezing her hands, her mother said, “It’s important that you marry the man you love.”

  “And what do I do if I can’t be with the one I love?”

  “Who is he?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He says he can’t be with me.”

  “Because he doesn’t return your feelings?”

  “No. He says he does, but it’s not as simple as that. There is someone who doesn’t want us to be together.”

  “But this young man returns your feelings?”

  “Yes. Or at least he says he does.”

  Lowering her voice, her mother leaned closer to her and said, “People opposed the idea of me being
with your father.”

  Intrigued, Emily scooted closer to her. “They did?”

  “Yes. There was even a large group of people who came out here in hopes of getting me to leave. Do you remember the night I married him?”

  “I remember some of it. Is that why you married him?”

  “Well, I’d already fallen in love with him by then, but I didn’t know if he returned my feelings.”

  “Oh, he did. I remember how upset he got whenever the men would come by to see you. I thought you married him because it was the logical thing to do.”