by Beth Wiseman
“Really?” David smiled for a split second before his expression soured. “Well, it won’t be happening again. I’m sorry. I know we both agreed just to be friends, and I was out of line.”
Did you not hear me? She bit her bottom lip, unsure how to mask her disappointment. Her heart ached. She’d finally learned to trust a man after everything that had happened with James. She seldom thought about her attack these days, and she didn’t flinch when David touched her. Now he wants to tell her it will never happen again?
I guess it’s for the best. Maybe she didn’t think about her attack as much, but it had still happened. And the results were still the same. She was ruined for marriage, and the realization hurt worse than ever before. She felt cheated. A glimpse of what it felt like to be held by a man she trusted, that she cared for . . . only to have him pull back.
Maybe it’s a good thing he has the strength to do that, because Emily knew she didn’t. But why? Why did he kiss her if he only wants to be friends? And while Emily had her own reasons for not wanting to be courted, what were his? What was so wrong with her that David wouldn’t even consider it? Besides the obvious—but as far as she knew, he didn’t know anything about what had happened. Her mind was filled with questions as she tried to get him to make eye contact. Finally, he did.
“I—I thought the kiss was fine.” She lowered her eyes, then looked back up at him, wondering still if she kissed poorly.
David unhooked his thumbs from his suspenders, pulled his hat from his head, then raked his hand through his dark, wavy hair. “Emily, I just can’t be anything more than friends with you.” His tone was firm, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.
Emily swallowed hard. “We are friends.”
David took a deep breath. “Ya. And I shouldn’t have kissed you, since we can’t ever be more than that. I could never court you.” He stopped when he saw her eyes clouding with tears. “You’re taking this the wrong way.” He stepped forward, but she took two steps back.
“No, I’m not.” She blinked back tears. “Friends. We’re friends.”
David stepped toward her and reached for her arms. She jerked away, but he stepped forward and latched onto her forearms. “We are friends, Emily. And I want to stay friends with you. But I can hardly be around you without wanting to kiss you.”
She stopped and held her breath, waiting for him to go on.
“Can’t you see that? I want to kiss you so bad right now, I can hardly stand it. But we can’t be anything more than friends, and I’m not gonna lead you on and hurt you like that. I can’t spend any more time alone with you.”
He spun around and headed out of the barn. Emily stared after him, her mouth hanging open.
KATIE ANN WAS sure that Beth Ann and Jacob’s wedding was the reason Ivan had reached out to her the night before. Following their intimacy, she’d dared to hope that everything would be all right. What happened between last night and this morning?
Now, barely daylight, she blocked the front door in an effort to keep Ivan from leaving. She couldn’t stop the trail of tears pouring down her face, even when she thought she couldn’t cry anymore. Disgrace, shame, and failure surged through her heart. Even though Ivan refused to admit it, Katie Ann knew that Lucy had something to do with this, and her heart was filled with anger toward this Englisch woman she barely knew.
“Ivan, please . . .” she tried one last time. “What about last night? I don’t understand!” Katie Ann tried to make sense of what was unfolding before her.
Ivan buttoned his coat, put on his best black hat, then picked up his packed red suitcase, the one that was under the bed when they’d moved in. “I’m sorry, Katie Ann.”
“That’s all? I’m sorry.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. “Please, Ivan . . .” She was begging, and more shame engulfed her.
“I’m sorry, Katie Ann. There is enough money in the bank to get you by for several months until you figure out what you would like to do, and of course . . . the house and property are paid for.” His eyes filled with tears. “You can have everything, but I have to go.”
“But I want you, Ivan.”
Her husband hung his head for a moment, then turned and left.
When the door closed behind him, she dropped to her knees. “Why, Lord? What have I done that is so terrible that I must endure such pain? I can’t have any children to love, and now I have no husband. Why, Lord? How can this be Your will for me?” She rolled onto her side in a fetal position and pulled her knees to her chest as loneliness and despair overtook her. “Please, God . . .”
She stayed in that position for a very long time, thankful that God was the only one who could see her in such a pitiful state. “I’m sorry, Lord,” she said softly. “Sorry that I don’t have more faith.”
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.
Katie Ann stopped crying for a moment, slowly rose until she was sitting up, and brushed a tear from her cheek. Jeremiah 29:11. She placed one hand on her heart and took a deep breath as she speculated about why that particular Bible verse came to mind at that very moment. To give you an expected end.
Nothing in her life was going as she expected. It was falling apart. She pulled herself up, then brushed the wrinkles from her dark blue dress and walked to the window. Ivan’s taxi had rounded the corner long ago. He was gone. Her husband of twenty years had walked out on their marriage, given up. And Katie Ann could never remarry. That’s how it was, according to the Ordnung, and Katie Ann tried to mentally prepare herself for a life even lonelier than she could have imagined possible.
She watched the sun set, leaving a misty glow atop the packed snow.
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you . . . an expected end.
The scripture kept echoing in Katie Ann’s mind, and she sighed, knowing that the Lord wanted only the best for her. But how can this be the best? I wish I knew what thoughts You think toward me, what plans You have for me.
She knew that God only had thoughts of peace for her, but she couldn’t even begin to think how she would ever feel peace when such loneliness threatened to suffocate her to death. As she stood at the window watching an orange glow peek above the mountains, she realized . . . she’d been lonely for a very long time.
Katie Ann sat there for a few minutes until she understood that she knew her expected end. To be with the Lord in heaven for all eternity. How she gets there is in God’s hands, in His time, even if it isn’t the path she’s chosen for herself. But knowing it to be true was one thing; accepting it right now, on this day, at this moment was almost impossible. She could still breathe in Ivan’s freshly bathed scent, the homemade soap he’d bathed with for all the years they’d been together.
“Help me, Lord, to trust Your plan for me. Give me strength.” She buried her face in her hands again after saying the words aloud, knowing it was going to be a long night as she slept in her bed alone for the first time in twenty years.
Twelve
TIME DRAGGED BY AFTER JACOB AND BETH ANN’S wedding. A couple of good weather days preceded an onslaught of heavy snow that kept folks indoors for several days, and once again they’d missed community worship. But today was a much better day, with no snow in the forecast.
Emily clasped the thick brown blanket tightly around her, holding both ends close to her chest with one hand and the reins with the other. She hadn’t seen Martha since the wedding, and Mamm said that since it was Christmas Eve, Emily needed to take Martha a hearty supply of rhubarb jam and invite her and Mr. Becker to their family’s Second Christmas.
She hadn’t seen David or any of his family since the wedding either, but her mother said they would be coming for Second Christmas. All of them, that is, except Ivan. Emily had been shocked to hear that Katie Ann’s husband had left her. She’d enjoyed meeting David’s aunt and uncle at the wedding,
but even though she didn’t know the couple, she sensed a problem between them. Still, she would have never guessed that it was a problem large enough for Ivan to leave his wife. That just didn’t happen among the Amish.
Emily’s thoughts turned to David, as they always did, but she scowled as she remembered his last words to her. She liked it better when she could focus on the kiss they’d shared, but that sweet moment was now followed by bitterness. Thankfully, Emily kept busy at the dry goods store. She felt more comfortable tending the store by herself these days, which freed Jacob up to get his own home in order, though he still spent five or six hours at the store each day. But when it came time for Jacob to ready his fields for planting, the plan was for Beth Ann to start working at the store. Daed said this first year would be a learning experience as they planted crops that could endure colder temperatures for much longer than in Ohio and Pennsylvania. Emily had heard Samuel Stoltzfus agree with her father at Jacob’s wedding that it was going to be a learning year for all of them.
Emily parked the buggy in front of Martha’s house and noticed right away that things looked different. For starters, the snow was cleared from the walkway, and she didn’t remember seeing the small sign on a stick that said WELCOME FRIENDS before either. She smiled as she recalled Martha meeting Mr. Becker and then accompanying him to Jacob and Beth Ann’s wedding.
She knocked on the door and waited, holding a gift bag with a Christmas tree on the front and six jars of rhubarb jam inside. Emily wasn’t sure why her mother had purchased decorative bags with Christmas trees on the front, since putting up a tree was not Amish tradition, but Mamm couldn’t resist a sale at the store. Once, she’d purchased Levi a pair of boxer briefs because they were half price—boxer briefs with red hearts all over them. “No one will see them,” Mamm had said with a shrug. Emily couldn’t recall ever seeing the boxers in the wash basket.
Mamm had grilled her repeatedly about David, to the point that Emily had yelled at her just yesterday. If Daed had heard . . . She grimaced when she thought about what her father’s reaction would have been. Emily knew better than to be so disrespectful.
Emily heard the doorknob turn. When the door opened, Emily was speechless for a moment. This didn’t look like the Martha she knew. Her hair was pulled up into a neat twist instead of heaped atop her head in a matted mess of curls loosely secured with a butterfly clip. The bright red lipstick she usually wore was gone. She was hardly wearing much makeup at all, and her red knee-length dress was lovely and conservative.
“Cat got your tongue?” Martha thrust her hands on both hips.
Emily smiled. Definitely Martha.
“Merry Christmas, Martha.”
“I hope that’s rhubarb jelly in that bag.” Martha’s eyes lit up as she pushed the door open and motioned Emily in.
“Ya, it is.” She handed the bag to Martha. “Mmm. Smells like cookies in here.” Emily glanced around Martha’s den and saw festive Christmas decorations throughout, including a lighted tree in the corner. Everything was clean, and Martha had a cozy fire going.
“Hello, Elvis.” Emily walked to the cage.
“Hello,” the bird replied. “Merry Christmas.”
Emily laughed out loud. “You too, Elvis.”
Martha walked to Elvis’s cage. “I taught him that just this morning,” Martha said proudly as she reached in to pet the bird. Then Martha leaned down and put her lips on the bird’s snout just inside the rails of the cage. “You are so smart, Elvis. Do you know how much I love you?”
“I love you, Martha,” the bird said back. Emily watched Martha’s eyes haze over, but she quickly blinked back any tears.
Martha stood up straight, patted the cage, and the hint of a smile crossed her face. “I’ve had that bird for nineteen years.”
“What? You never told us that.” Emily’s jaw dropped. “That’s amazing!”
Martha smiled proudly. “Yep. Elvis is amazing. Bet ya didn’t know that he’ll outlive me. Parrots live eighty to a hundred years if they are properly cared for.” She leaned down to Elvis again and stroked his nose. “And my Elvis is very well taken care of.”
Emily turned toward Martha’s Christmas tree, which was covered with varying sizes of red and gold balls, and saw a few presents underneath.
“Mostly for Elvis,” Martha said when she saw Emily eyeing the gifts. Then she walked toward the tree and retrieved a shoe-sized box wrapped in blue paper with snowmen. “This is for you folks.”
Emily raised a brow. “Thank you, Martha.” Then she snapped her finger. “Ach, I almost forgot. Mamm wanted me to invite you for Second Christmas on Wednesday.”
“Huh?” Martha twisted her mouth from side to side. “How many Christmases do you people have?”
Emily giggled. “We celebrate Christmas with our immediate family on Christmas Day, but Second Christmas, the day after, we visit with extended family and friends. Mamm will make a big dinner at noon, but instead of turkey—since we just had it on Christmas Day—she’ll make a pot roast and several different casseroles.” She paused, remembering her mother’s instructions. “Mr. Becker is invited too.”
“You tell your mother I appreciate the offer.” Martha stood tall, then reached up and patted the twist on top of her head. “And I love a good pot roast, so I’m sure Arnold and I will be there.”
“That’s great.” Emily grinned. “Sure looks fancy and pretty in here. You got plans for Christmas Eve tonight?”
Martha raised her chin. “Not that it’s any of your business . . .” She grinned. “But yes. Arnold and I are spending the evening together.”
“That’s nice.” Emily folded her gloved hands in front of her, realizing that she hadn’t exactly been invited to stay. “I heard Mr. Becker say he doesn’t have any family. Has he always lived here?”
“You might as well sit down. I see you’re full of questions.” Martha looked at her watch. “He won’t be here for another hour.” She sat down in her rocker, which was still so near the table she jostled it when she took her seat, causing the lamp to teeter. She reached out and steadied it without looking at it.
Emily took off her coat and bonnet, sat down on the couch, and folded the garments in her lap. She waited for Martha to go on.
“Arnold said he’s never been married.” She paused. “Isn’t that something?”
Emily nodded.
“I was married once,” Martha said after a few moments.
“Really? I didn’t know that. You never mentioned that to me or David. Do you have kinner?”
“Huh?”
“Sorry. Children. Kinner means children in Pennsylvania Dutch.”
“No. My Herbert and I never had any kids. We always wanted some, but it just didn’t happen.” She looked to her left. “Instead, we had Elvis, who did indeed outlive Herbert.” Martha sighed. “Herbert just dropped dead one day. Heart attack.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a few years ago.” Martha gazed at the Christmas tree, seeming far away, and the flickering lights shone on her face.
After a few moments, Emily said, “Your cookies smell gut.”
Martha chuckled. “I didn’t learn much about cooking while you were here, Emily, but I figure even I should be able to make some cookies.”
“I’m sure they’ll be wonderful.”
Martha bit her lip as she rubbed her chin. “Your people have a strong faith in the Lord, don’t you?”
“Ya. We do.”
Martha let out a deep breath. “So does Arnold.” She frowned as she spoke.
Emily wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t her place to minister to anyone, so she just nodded.
“So, what makes a good Christian, Emily? Gotta go to church every Sunday?” Martha crossed one leg over the other and shifted her weight.
“I—I think a gut Christian tries to be the best person they can. They give unselfishly to others, worship God, believe Jesus to be our Savior, and, for us—we believe that everything that happens is God�
�s will. Even the bad things.”
Emily heard herself say the words, and guilt flooded over her for all the times she’d questioned God’s will the past few months.
Martha folded her arms across her chest and stared at the fire for a few moments. “I think Arnold is a good Christian.”
Emily nodded again. “He seems like a nice man.”
Martha chuckled. “Doesn’t he, though?” She shook her head. “Can’t for the life of me figure out why that silly old carpenter wants to spend time with me.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “You probably haven’t noticed, but I ain’t always real cheerful.”
Emily bit her bottom lip, then took a deep breath. “I’ve always thought you were just fine, Martha.”
“Well, you better go before my cookies burn.” Martha stood up.
Emily jumped up and put on her coat and bonnet. “Thank you for the gift, Martha.” She picked it up from the coffee table.
“Send my thanks to your mother for the rhubarb jelly.”
“I will.” Emily walked toward the door, then turned and smiled. “Have a nice time with Mr. Becker.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Martha rolled her eyes, scowled a bit, then mumbled, “Merry Christmas to you folks.”
“Merry Christmas.” Emily opened the door and left.
She was almost to her buggy when she heard the door open. She turned around.
Martha stood on the porch. “Emily?”
“Ya?”
“Is it too late for me to be one of ’em?” Martha took a step forward and rubbed her hands along her arms. “You know, a good Christian?”
Emily smiled. “It’s never too late, Martha.”
MARTHA PULLED HER cookies from the oven. “Argh!” She eyed the blackened edges as she set the pan on top of the oven. “Can’t even seem to make a simple batch of chocolate chip cookies.”
She lifted one of the cookies with the spatula, blew on it, then flipped it over. Too burnt to serve to Arnold. He’d think she had never baked cookies, which would be the complete and total truth.
Oh well. All wasn’t lost. She eyed the pan of lasagna in front of her, the one she’d pried from the frozen container and put in her own casserole dish. The way the cheese melded to the edge of the pan made it look almost like she’d prepared it herself. And anyone could toss a salad, which Martha figured she’d done quite well. Boy, how she missed Emily in the kitchen.