by Mary Ellis
Instead, Sarah Hostetler appeared on the landing. “There you are, Emma Miller, at long last. You can’t hide from me any longer.”
Emma hung her head, mortified. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” She wasn’t about to compound her sin by lying.
“You are forgiven,” said Sarah and ran to embrace her.
Emma stumbled to her feet as pieces of wool fell to the floor. She allowed herself to be enfolded in a hug.
“I know why you’ve avoided me. I’m not a dummkopf. Every time you see Sam and me you’re reminded of James.”
Emma nodded. “True. I’m a selfish woman and a poor friend.”
“No, you’re a normal woman.” Sarah glanced around the room. “Ach, what a mess up here. How do you stand all this lint and dust?” She sneezed as though on cue.
Emma laughed and brushed a pile of raw wool off the other chair. “It doesn’t bother me, but Leah won’t set foot up here with her allergies.”
“Hmm, I have little sisters too. This lint can be a blessing in disguise.”
Both girls laughed as Emma realized how much she’d missed her friend. “I have missed you, Sarah,” she blurted out.
“And I, you,” Sarah said. “I saw you sitting with Joseph at the cider-making frolic. And I also saw you climbing into the wagon for the first hayride with him. Sam and I went on the last ride. Has Joseph asked to court you?” Her pretty brown eyes grew round as her voice dropped to a whisper.
Emma rose from her stool and began pacing the floor. “Not in so many words, but I think he wants to. I’m dreading the question.”
“Why?” Sarah dabbed at her nose with a hanky. “He’s a nice boy from what I hear…and as an only son he’ll eventually take over his pa’s harness shop.”
Emma tried not to reveal her feelings. “Jah, he’s very nice and quite attentive. He’ll make some woman a good husband some day.”
“But not you?” Sarah pulled the hanky from her face.
“I really don’t know how I feel. I just know things are impossible with James. Joseph asked me to an ice-skating party next Saturday if the cold snap holds. I will wait and see what happens.”
Sarah nodded sagely. “When in doubt, do nothing.” She gazed toward the skylight, where dust motes floated and swirled in the winter sunlight. “Have you heard any news from James since your visit?”
The question hung in the air unanswered for a few minutes. “No. I told him not to stop by or write any more letters.”
Sarah crossed her arms and tilted her head. “A clean break…always the best way. If you were to hear news of him, it might just get your hopes up, and we couldn’t have that, could we?”
This question took half a minute to sink in. Then Emma stared at her friend. “Have you heard something, Sarah Hostetler? If so, I sure wish you’d spit it out instead of dangling it like catnip.”
Sarah’s grin filled her face. “I only know that James Davis Jr. has been coming home every Thursday after his last class. He doesn’t spend a single minute on campus more than necessary. He’s home working on the farm until dawn on Monday, and then he drives back to Wooster.” She stood and moved closer to the potbellied stove to warm her hands.
Emma added more kindling, stirred the embers, and shut the little brass door. “That’s hardly news, dear girl. He loves farming and would spend as much time home as possible.” She held her palms above the radiant heat too.
“Jah, but I also know he’s been attending church services with Sam and his family. You can guess who told me that little tidbit.” She winked at Emma.
Emma’s head snapped up. “James has been attending New Order preaching services?” Her voice revealed her disbelief. “Whatever for? He’s not Amish.”
“That I do not know. Why don’t you write him a letter and ask him?” She smiled with satisfaction.
“Oh, no, I could never do that.”
“Suit yourself, Emma, but you’ll spend the entire winter up here wondering.” Sarah glanced around the untidy but serviceable work-room again, sniffed, and then sneezed.
Emma was about to list the reasons she couldn’t contact James when the barn door opened and a shout came from down below. A gust of cold air accompanied Leah’s words up the stairs. “Emma, Sarah? Are you two still up there? Mamm says to come in now and get warmed up. She made a pot of blackberry tea and I baked lemon-poppy seed muffins.”
Emma shook her head as she walked to the landing. “Danki, Leah. We’ll be right down. I just want to bank the stove.”
Sarah waited until Emma finished with the fire before she grabbed her sleeve. “Before we go in, I want to tell you something in private.” She lowered her voice in case the little-mouse-with-big-ears was still in the barn. “Sam has proposed, but we’re going to wait to announce our engagement for a while.”
“Congratulations!” exclaimed Emma, hugging her friend tightly. “But why the wait and why keep it a secret? You and Sam are perfect together.”
“My parents don’t quite agree, at least not yet, so we’re waiting to marry until I turn eighteen.”
Emma knew that Sarah was Old Order, but Sam Yoder wasn’t. “What will you do? Have you decided?” She also kept her tone a whisper.
“Jah, I’ve decided to become New Order when we marry. I won’t be shunned since I haven’t taken the kneeling vow yet, but mamm and daed still won’t be too happy. We’re giving them time to get used to the idea.” Sarah smiled with her face flushed with the promise of new love. “So for now, this is our secret, okay?”
“Of course,” said Emma, “but we’d better go in before Leah returns. She’ll drag us out by our capes. She thinks even five minutes spent in a barn is five minutes too long.”
Both girls started down the stairs. At the bottom Emma looked at Sarah earnestly. “Danki for coming over today. And for not being angry with me and for the news about James.” She glanced at the doorway and then back toward the loft. “You’re right. I’ll probably mull over that information all the way till spring.”
Early January
The skating party had to be postponed several times. Temperatures had warmed into the forties just before Christmas and melted all the snow, including the ice on ponds. Emma breathed a sign of relief. She wasn’t eager for the date with Joseph. Reminding herself that they were friends, she feared he wished for something more permanent. She tried to picture herself courting him, but every time it was a blond-haired, blue-eyed man who escorted her to singings or for rides in his courting buggy. It was all very silly—the imaginings of a foolish young woman. James Davis wasn’t even Amish.
Emma’s loneliness abated somewhat at Christmastime. Visits from Mammi and Dawdi Kline and from Uncle Thomas and his bride, Catherine, filled the house with love and laughter. She, Leah, and mamm were so busy cooking or baking up goodies during the two-week visit that she had no time to feel sorry for herself.
Aunt Hannah was usually there, along with Phoebe and Uncle Seth, to lend a hand but mainly to visit with her parents. The menfolk stayed out in the barn until frozen fingers and toes drew them back to the woodstove in the front room. Daed said they were busy planning for spring, but Emma knew they mostly visited and swapped stories during the quietest time of the year. Everyone attended Simon’s evening Scripture readings as they sought inspiration from the Gospel accounts of the Savior’s birth.
Hannah, usually far more talkative than an average Plain woman, had grown quiet during the waning days of Catherine and Thomas’ visit, ever since the night Catherine announced she was expecting a boppli in the late spring. Everyone had been joyous, slapping Thomas on the back and hugging Catherine, including Hannah. But Emma had seen Hannah’s eyes full of tears when she carried dessert plates to the kitchen, probably because she wasn’t in a family way yet. Emma pitied her aunt, knowing how it felt not to get your heart’s desire.
New nightgowns from mamm, chocolate candy kisses from daed, a birdhouse from Henry, and Matthew’s gift of new leather harnesses for her pony cart had b
rightened the season’s festivities. Leah had surpassed herself with a gift of cookbooks and jars of colored icing. Emma loved and treasured each gift, yet just one inexpensive greeting card from Charm could have made her holiday perfect.
Yet no card had come, and Emma knew James would respect her request to stay away. Today, very cold and sunless, she would drive over to the Hershberger farm with Leah for the rescheduled ice skating party. Dressing in many layers, she waddled downstairs feeling as though she faced a trip to the dentist rather than a social outing.
“Ah, Emma,” said Simon, “ready to go? I hope you don’t fall down on the ice. Bundled up like that, you’ll never get back up.” He laughed heartily as he finished his coffee.
Emma also laughed. Picturing herself helplessly flat on the ice was funny, and she laughed because her father seldom cracked a joke. “I’ll just have to wait for a thaw and float to shore.” She grabbed some carrot sticks for her pony, Maybelle.
“I’m sure Joseph will be close by to pull you upright.” Simon chuckled again, but Emma lost her good humor.
The fact that her parents were pushing her toward the harness maker’s son only made her more resistant. Luckily, at that moment her sister lumbered into the room, equally overdressed. “Ready to go, Leah? Let’s be off.” Emma brushed a kiss on her father’s cheek and headed outdoors.
Her dear bruder had the pony hitched up and ready to go. Leah chattered about one topic after another along the way, giving Emma time to think. Unfortunately, even a forty-five minute ride wasn’t sufficient for the solutions she required.
Joseph practically ran to their pony cart when they parked near the barn. “Hullo, Emma. Leah.” He swept off his hat and then settled it back in place. “I’ll put your Appaloosa inside a barn stall. There’s room. They’ve started the bonfire if you’re cold from the ride over. Food tables are set up in the north outbuilding in case you’re hungry.” He pointed with one long finger in the general direction. “I’ll eat whenever you want, Emma. Should I carry your skates to the pond?”
The two sisters exchanged glances; neither had ever heard him talk so much or so fast. “I’ll see you later, Em. I’m going to look for Elizabeth.” Leah grabbed her skates and ran—not walked—away from the pony cart.
She smiled weakly at Joseph and tried to remember his questions. “I’m not hungry yet, nor am I too cold. Why don’t you put away Maybelle and then we can skate for a spell?”
He looked confused and then realized Maybelle was her pony. “Sure. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Emma grabbed the hamper of baked goods and her skates and walked toward the pond. She didn’t wait while Joseph put the horse away. Young people and courting couples were already skating. Slab wood benches sat close to the ice for donning skates, while the bonfire’s flames leaped in the air, promising to warm chilly fingers and toes.
It didn’t take Emma long to spot Sarah and Sam out on the ice. They skated very close together with crossed arms, while exchanging moon-cow glances. Emma bit the inside of her cheek to stem the tide of envy. Sarah was her friend and deserved happiness even if she spent the rest of her life in a dusty workroom.
“Ready, Emma?” Joseph asked over her shoulder. He was smiling sweetly at her.
She wasn’t worthy of the attention from such a kind and gentle soul. Mean-spirited, jealous people like her deserved to be shut away in a barn loft. “Jah, let’s skate,” she said, sitting on the bench. They laced on their skates and glided onto the sparkling ice. It was smooth and free of snow after the quick freeze. Emma soon found her stride. With one hand locked on Joseph’s elbow and the other hand aloft for balance, she circled the pond many times, weaving in and out of slower skaters. The sun peeked from behind the clouds, turning the gray January day into a sharp contrast of light and shadow. Emma relaxed while skating and allowed the physical activity to occupy her mind and body completely.
Finally, it was Joseph who demanded a break. “Whew, let’s rest for a spell. My ankles are getting sore. Today’s the first time I’ve had these things on in quite some time.” He hobbled clumsily up the bank to where they had left their boots.
Emma noticed that all other benches were empty. Everyone was either skating, inside the barn having a snack, or by the bonfire. She stretched out her legs with her feet balanced on the skate blades. The crisp air filled her lungs, giving her a boost of energy. “My, I’ve been cooped up too long indoors. It’s so good to breathe fresh air.”
Joseph nodded vigorously. “Jah, true. Are you getting thirsty? Or maybe I can get you a few cookies to tide you over till supper?”
Either he was very nervous or he thought that she never went longer than ten minutes without eating or drinking something. “Neither, danki. I’m fine just to sit a moment and watch the skaters.” She reached over and patted his forearm with her gloved hand. It was a meaningless gesture, one she used with her siblings all the time.
But Joseph Kauffman did not find it so meaningless. Without warning, he leaned over and kissed her—not on the forehead or cheek, but squarely on the mouth.
She was so shocked the kiss was over before she could respond. Then Emma’s reaction was sheer terror. She had played her friend falsely, somehow giving him the impression that she wished to be courted. “Nooooo,” she moaned. Her hands flew to undo her skates’ laces, and then she pulled off her skates, tugged on her boots, and ran pell-mell away from the pond.
“Wait, Emma. Stop, please,” called Joseph.
Emma ran wildly, stumbling and almost falling in her untied boots. She didn’t stop until she reached a stand of pine trees, far from the skating party. Panting and with her nose running, she threw herself against a tree trunk and sobbed.
One or two minutes passed before she heard his tender voice. “Forgive me, Emma. I had no right to behave so boldly. Please, slap my face or kick my shins, but I beg you not to cry. I’m so sorry.”
Emma pulled her wet face from the pine bark and turned to face him. He stood with his hat in hand, looking like a condemned man.
“No, Joseph. It’s me who’s sorry. I should have told you the truth right away and we wouldn’t be in this predicament. I’m in love with the Englischer. I honestly tried not to be, but I still am!” The tears resumed like a waterfall in spring. “I haven’t been kind to you, and you’re…a…very…nice…man.” Her declaration sounded like a string of hiccups.
“Ach, Emma, I’m not that nice a guy or I wouldn’t have stolen that kiss. Cry your eyes out on my shoulder if you like, and then we can go back to being what we were—friends. I can still use a few more of those.” He drew her to his chest while she buried her face in his soft wool coat. When the crying stopped, she stepped back and wiped her face with his hanky. “Danki, Joseph.”
“Okay, what do you want to do now? Get something to eat?”
Despite her misery, a smile she couldn’t resist began in the corner of her mouth. We’re back to the topic of food again. “No, not yet. I want to skate and skate and skate…all the way until dark.”
And so they did, but eventually they ate sloppy joes and sat around the bonfire sipping hot chocolate for him and warm cider for her. It felt good to have a friend, and Emma felt an enormous weight lift from her shoulders. Despite the stolen kiss and emotional upheaval, she had enjoyed herself at the skating party.
But Joseph didn’t ask to take her home. And Emma knew he never would. He was looking for a wife and it would not be her. One day he would find the perfect one, while she faced a lonely lifetime of spinning wool into yarn, hidden away in her barn loft like some fabled storybook character.
Late February
“I’ll take that egg if you don’t mind,” Hannah said to the chicken. After a ruffle of feathers and a loud cluck, the hen rose from her roost and strutted toward the ramp. She marched from the henhouse without a backward glance.
“Danki very much.” Hannah placed the egg with the others in the basket and then grabbed for the support post. A wave of dizziness ove
rtook her as her stomach churned and somersaulted. The taste of bile inched up her throat as Hannah tried steadying herself with deep breaths.
Inhaling deeply in a henhouse was always a bad idea. Hannah set down the basket and ran for the door. Something she ate at breakfast had upset her stomach, so she hurried toward the house. Maybe it was the scrambled eggs or the fried bacon playing havoc, but Hannah didn’t make it to the bathroom. She doubled over, gripped her knees, and vomited into the bushes on the side of the henhouse. When the wave of nausea finally passed, Hannah sucked clean cold February air into her lungs and waited for her head to clear. From the branches overhead, she heard the distinctive chirping of songbirds heralding the return of spring to Holmes County. The early birds were back. She spotted thickening buds on the rhododendron bushes and turkey vultures soaring high in the wind currents.
Spring couldn’t arrive soon enough for her.
When she felt better, she fetched paper towels and a bucket of water from the pump house to clean up and then went indoors. Seth would have to retrieve the basket of eggs later. This was the third time she’d been sick this week. She prayed over and over in her head: If it be Your will, Lord, please let it be.
She dared not name her heart’s desire. God knew she yearned for a boppli of her own to love in the wunderbaar home Seth had made for her. She had all but given up hope, remembering with shame her initial reaction of envy upon hearing that Catherine was pregnant. Now Hannah couldn’t wait for her bruder’s blessed event, only a couple months away. Seth promised they would travel back to Lancaster once the baby arrived and spring planting was finished. Would she have news of her own to share with Thomas and Catherine?
Walking through her warm kitchen, smelling faintly of cinnamon and spice, Hannah headed for the bathroom to wash her face and hands and then brush her teeth. Feeling refreshed, she went back to the kitchen and knelt by her chair and bowed her head. Her prayer was simple and earnest. She prayed for a safe delivery of Catherine’s child, a lifting of Seth’s worries over family finances, a salving of Emma’s wounded heart…and that she might, indeed, be pregnant.