by Beth Wiseman
“No.”
“But—”
Martha held up a crooked finger. “You can clean Elvis’s cage next time, since you’re itching to do more.”
Emily giggled, and David glared at her for a moment, but it was impossible not to grin along with her.
“You got a problem with cleaning my Elvis’s cage, David?” Martha walked to the bird and reached her hand in the cage. “Did you hear that, Elvis? Our David doesn’t want to clean your cage. Precious boy.”
“No. It’s fine.” At least he wouldn’t feel as guilty about the money. Martha was paying them to be her part-time family, and that just wasn’t right. It was bothering him more and more. He finished his pie, then said, “Emily, we best be getting on the road.”
Emily stood up and reached for all of their empty plates. “Ya. You’re right.”
A few minutes later they said their good-byes. There was never any hugging or anything like that, and David was glad— ’course, he wouldn’t have minded hugging Emily.
As tired as he was, he wasn’t ready to say good night to Emily. “Do you want to go get a cup of kaffi somewhere?”
Her luminous eyes widened. “Where would we go this time of night?”
He’d been worried she wouldn’t want to go, but he was at least prepared this time if she said yes. “That small diner on the way to Monte Vista. It’s only about four miles.”
“I don’t know, David . . .” As she tapped her finger to her chin, he waited, hoping. “Maybe just a quick cup. Is there something you want to talk about? Martha or our arrangement?”
That wasn’t it, but if that would get him some extra time alone with her, he figured he better agree. “Ya. I’m feeling badly about her paying us to be her family.”
Even in the darkness, he could see her serious expression. “Me too. And that is just what she’s doing.” She turned slightly in her seat. “But I think it would sadden Martha to no end if we didn’t come see her twice a week. Maybe we should just refuse the money.”
David thought about the money he’d been tucking away to get back to Lancaster County. “Maybe. But I don’t think she’d hear of that.”
They rode quietly the rest of the way, with the clippety-clop of hooves, chattering teeth, and a full moon overhead.
The diner was empty, except for an elderly couple eating pie in a corner booth and a young mother with her baby seated near the entrance. The waitress led them to a booth opposite the older couple.
David watched Emily sip her coffee and thought about how far they’d come. “Do you still miss Ohio, or do you feel better about being here in Canaan?”
“I still miss it.” She ran her finger around the rim of her cup as she spoke. “But I guess it’s getting better.” Then she looked up at him and smiled in a way that plagued his heart with regret. I wish I could take care of you forever. “Ach, I was thinking . ..” She paused, grinning. “When the weather clears, maybe you could till a garden for Martha, and I’ll plant vegetables for her, maybe get her involved and show her how wunderbaar it feels to tend the land.”
“Ya, that’s a gut idea. I’ll have to ready the fields with mei daed, but I’m sure I can find time to till Martha a small garden.”
“I plan to have a garden at home, and I have the dry goods store to tend, but I think it’s important that we help Martha have her own too.”
Emily’s face glowed as she detailed how big she would like the garden to be, how she wondered if she could grow watermelons like she did back home, and how maybe they could even build a picket fence around Martha’s garden. It was almost as if—as if they were talking about their own home. David thought about how they’d cooked together, played games together, taken care of Martha and her house together—all the time they’d spent together.
“And I’m going to get that living room of hers painted, one of these days.” David took a sip of his coffee and wondered briefly if the caffeine would keep him up tonight.
“With hard work, that house of hers could be so pretty, especially the outside. She has a big yard with flowerbeds that just haven’t been tended to. You’ll see when the snow clears what I’m talking about.”
“We’ll help her get it in shape.”
They were quiet for a few minutes, and David wondered how much of all this he could actually do. His plans didn’t include staying in Canaan.
For the first time since he’d arrived in Colorado, he wondered if maybe he could make a life here. But no sooner did he have the thought, than he was reminded that he wouldn’t be good for Emily. She deserved someone who would be around for a long time, someone to raise a family with.
When the waitress returned, they opted for two pieces of apple pie.
Eket, and the window protectors, she couldn’t stop shaking. She rubbed her gloved hands together beneath the heavy blanket.MILY WAS CERTAIN that she’d never been as cold as she was on this night. They’d barely gotten back on the main road, and her cheeks were numb. Even with the portable heater, the blan
“Emily . . .” David said in a shaky voice. “If you will scoot over here next to me and wrap that blanket around the both of us, we will be a little warmer. Maybe even hold that heater in front of us.” She could hear David’s teeth chattering. “Please,” he added.
Emily slowly moved toward him. She draped the blanket around both their shoulders. David pulled his arm free of the blanket and draped it across her shoulders, then pulled her close. He rubbed her arm, and she could feel him shivering.
“Put your arm back under the blanket so you’ll stay warm.”
“It’s okay. I’m just worried about you. I can’t believe we stayed as long as we did, and the temperatures sure have dropped.”
Emily snuggled close to him, welcoming the warmth. “I’m okay, David.” She tipped her head up, but the motion put her face entirely too close to his, so she quickly turned it away.
She tried not to focus on David’s tender touch as he rubbed her arm atop the blanket. She felt comforted, yet leery at the same time. He was so sweet, so safe. And that frightened her. Was she falling for him? What a disaster that would be. But for now, she was so cold, and he felt so good next to her.
“It’s starting to snow.” Emily leaned forward and gazed into the night as white flecks of powder pelted the windshield of the buggy. “Mamm is going to be frantic.”
“I’ll talk to her when we get there and tell her this is my fault.”
“No, no. You don’t have to do that.” Emily felt him pull her closer, and she felt warm inside, if not on the outside. “It’s not your fault, any more so than mine.”
She slowly rested her head against the crook of his arm and all her worries of the past began to fade . . . only to have new ones come into view.
DAVID COULDN’T DENY how good it felt to have Emily snuggle up next to him. He was glad that she now felt comfortable around him. They’d formed a bond over the past few weeks, and it was a welcome change from the frightened woman he’d first met. But he could tell by his growing feelings that he would need to put some distance between them. Emily had been hurt enough. Falling for her would only hurt them both in the long run.
“David?”
Her head shifted from against his chest, putting her face almost close enough that he could have easily leaned down and kissed her, and the sweet sound of her voice only made him want to do so even more. He took a deep breath. “Ya?”
“I’m glad . ..” She paused, and even in the moonlight he could see a twinkle in her big brown eyes. “I’m glad we’re friends.”
She smiled up at him, then lowered her face and once again nuzzled against him. He pulled her closer, knowing he shouldn’t, but as the warmth of her body comforted his, something about Emily Detweiler warmed his soul as well. She made him want to be a whole man, someone with a long life ahead of him.
VERA WHIPPED THE buggy into the Stoltzfuses’ driveway, against Elam’s wishes. “Vera, I’m sure everything is fine,” he’d said earlier. “And it’s to
o cold for you to be traveling.”
But she’d already called Martha from the phone in the barn. David and Emily had left over two hours ago, Martha had said, and Vera’s heart had begun to race. The last time Emily had been late coming home, it was dark outside, as it was now, and the unthinkable had happened. She tried to ignore her upset stomach as she tethered the horse and marched across the snow to the porch steps. She grabbed the wobbly railing and carefully pulled herself up to the front door.
Even though David seemed like a nice young man, Vera couldn’t shake her worry. They could have been in an accident.
She rapped hard on the wooden door, and as she stood in the cold, she noticed light coming from a window to her left. Only a few moments later, she heard footsteps.
“Vera!” Lillian swung the door wide. “Come in, come in. What are you doing out here in this weather?”
“I’m wondering why Emily isn’t home yet. David never brings her home from Martha’s this late, and I’m worried, and . . .” She shook her head as a knot formed in her throat.
“I’m sure Emily is fine. She’s with David. He won’t let anything happen to her.” Lillian smiled, but Vera didn’t reciprocate.
Vera glanced around the room and nodded at Samuel. “David should know not to have her out this late.” She tilted her chin up and continued to fight the lump in her throat.
Samuel stood up, and while his eyes were sharp and assessing, Vera just wanted her daughter home. “Vera, I’m sure that the kinner are fine. If there had been an accident, I reckon we would have heard. They’re young. Maybe they went for kaffi.” He reached his hand out to her. “Can I take your coat?”
Vera knew she was dripping snow on the floor, but she held her position. “Emily knows how I feel about her being late, and David should—” She stopped herself and took a deep breath when she saw a distinct hardening of Samuel’s eyes.
“Vera, let me get you something hot to drink.” Lillian stepped closer. “Goodness, your teeth are chattering.” She pulled Vera toward the fire. “Here, warm yourself. Not much in this old house works, but the fireplace is huge, and we’ve been enjoying a nice fire this evening.”
Vera moved toward the fire with Lillian, pulled her gloves off, and warmed her hands above the flames. “I’m sorry. I just worry. I shouldn’t have come.”
Lillian smiled. “You’re welcome here any time. And I really am sure that everything is fine. Those two spend a lot of time together. Maybe more than a friendship is forming, no?”
Images of that night over three months ago raced through Vera’s mind. She put her face in her hands. How well did she really know these people? Worry began to overtake her. “Maybe I should go look for them.”
Samuel stepped forward. “Vera, I don’t think that’s a gut idea. I’m sure they’re fine.”
She turned around to face Samuel. “You don’t know that. I don’t even know David, and . . .”
Samuel frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Lillian spoke up.
“Vera, honey. I was just getting ready to go check on Elizabeth and Anna. Why don’t you take off your coat and bonnet and come with me?” Lillian gently touched Vera’s arm. “Please. We can talk upstairs.”
Vera drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Then she unbuttoned her coat and removed it along with her bonnet. Lillian draped the garments on the back of the couch. “I really should be going home, since I reckon David will drop Emily off before coming here. I don’t know why I came. I just . . .”
A tear rolled down Vera’s cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. Her emotions about what had happened to Emily were catching up to her, and it was embarrassing. She saw Lillian and Samuel exchange looks before Lillian coaxed Vera toward the stairs.
Vera watched as Lillian checked on both her girls, then motioned for Vera to follow her down the hall. They walked into what Vera presumed was Lillian and Samuel’s bedroom. A large bed was on the far wall, a dresser in the corner, and boxes were stacked everywhere. Light brown paint was peeling from the walls. It was a mess, and Vera silently reprimanded herself for not making more time to come help Lillian work on this house.
“Please don’t judge us by this house,” Lillian said as her eyes scanned the room. “Someday it will be beautiful.” She chuckled. “I hope.”
“I would never judge, Lillian.”
Lillian sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to her. Vera took a seat beside her.
“Now, what’s going on?” Lillian leaned her head to one side. “It’s not that late, Vera, and you know David is a gut young man. He’ll get Emily home safely.”
Vera pushed back several strands of dark hair that had fallen forward. She sat taller. “I know.” She paused. “I shouldn’t have come. It’s just that I get so scared, and I don’t think Elam understands.” She turned to Lillian and grabbed her hand. “It’s a sin to worry, Lillian. I know this, and yet I’m consumed with worry when it comes to Emily. I try not to show it in front of her. But sometimes it just overtakes me, and her being late tonight just seems to have pushed my emotions right over the top. I’m so sorry for my rude behavior. Please apologize to Samuel for me.” She let go of Lillian’s hand and stood up, ready to leave, but Lillian grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her back down.
“Ach, no ya don’t.” Lillian raised her brows. “Our kids being home a little late is not what this is all about. Not completely anyway. What’s going on, Vera? Let me be a gut friend to you. You’re the only friend I have here. Let me help.”
Vera sniffled a bit. “No, really. I’m sure everything is fine.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m sure there is no problem.” She spoke the words with conviction, but a tear still rolled down her cheek. It was as if every emotion she’d felt since Emily’s attack was surfacing, and now she wasn’t sure how to keep from telling Lillian what ailed her so. If she were honest with herself, she’d realize she needed a friend, another female to talk to about what happened to Emily. She’d never spoken of the incident to family or friends in Middlefield, and she and Elam had offered a partial version of the truth about their relocation to Canaan—cheaper land prices, more room to expand for future generations, and a better environment for Levi’s asthma. And even though she and Elam had discussed what happened to Emily over the past few months, she’d never really allowed herself to show much emotion in front of her husband.
Emily had begged her family not to tell anyone what happened to her. Vera explained to her daughter repeatedly that she didn’t have anything to be ashamed of, but Vera also knew that folks can be cruel sometimes. She knew in her heart that most of the community in Middlefield would have showered them with love and comfort, but there would have been a few who would have shunned Emily in their own way, not wanting their own sons to pursue Emily as a wife. At the time, it seemed like moving away from Middlefield was the right thing to do—for all of them.
In Colorado, Levi still had to use his inhaler, but not nearly as often as he did in Middlefield, the land truly was less expensive, and Elam was able to establish a new business. She and Elam thought that a new place and new surroundings would help them all to heal, especially Emily. But there was no place far enough to run from the pain that still gripped them.
Vera buried her face in her hands and began to cry. When the tears turned to sobs, Vera couldn’t stop them.
“Vera, oh Vera. Please talk to me. What is the matter?”
Lillian’s voice was so tender, and as Lillian put her arm around her, Vera knew that she couldn’t stay silent any longer. She lifted her head and, in a most unladylike gesture, swiped at her tears and nose with the sleeve of her dress. She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to control herself before she spoke.
“I know that everything is God’s will, Lillian. I’ve been taught that my entire life, but . . .” She looked into Lillian’s kind eyes. “Something—something happened to Emily before we left Middlefield, something horrible.” She shook her head as the images came racing forward again. Em
ily’s bloody forehead, the police, the ambulance, all the bright lights. Another tear rolled down her cheek. “Emily was— was . . .” Lillian dropped her arm from around Vera, then clasped both of Vera’s hands in hers.
“Vera, God will see us through anything, and—”
“Then where was God when Emily was raped? Where was He then, Lillian? Please tell me, so that I can forgive, so that I can heal, so that I can somehow help Emily.” She looked at her new friend and pleaded, “Tell me, Lillian! Where was God?”
Shame took over every inch of Vera’s being as she realized that she had voiced her most secret feelings, yelled them in fact, to a woman she barely knew. She lowered her head as new tears spilled onto her dark green dress. “Forgive me, Lillian.”
Lillian pulled Vera into a hug, then patted her on the back while Vera sobbed. “Oh, Vera. Oh, my dear Vera. Poor Emily. That is horrible, for sure. But it’s all right to feel like this, Vera. We’re human. Something tragic happened to your baby girl, and I think God understands these emotions at a time like this.”
Vera pulled away and wiped her eyes. “I love my God, Lillian. I love God.” She felt desperate to convey that to her friend after her verbal lashing.
“Of course you do.” Lillian shook her head. “And it’s hard to understand how something so terrible could be of His will, but, Vera . . .”
Vera sniffled and locked eyes with Lillian, whose eyes held a pensive shimmer. “Ya?”
“As you know, I wasn’t always Amish. And before I converted, I didn’t know God or have a personal relationship with Him during times of trouble, which often made things unbearable. But Emily has a strong faith, and that is what will see her through this, help her to heal.”
Vera nodded and wiped her face with the sleeve of her dress again.
“How long ago did this happen?”
“Right before we moved here, which would be about four months ago.”