“What does he want to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should ask him.”
She scowled at him. “He wants to be in charge.”
“Maybe you should let him.”
“He’s only a boy. I’m overwhelmed with all that needs to be done. How can he possibly hope to know what is needed?”
“Roy has spent a lot of time with your father. He knows what Zachariah has in the sheds. If you ask him he can tell you what is broken and what just needs a little work.”
“If you have so much faith in him, why didn’t you bring him instead of me?”
“He wanted to get started on the floors.”
“I will admit he had done a lot of work already. I know the business will be his one day, but will he be an Amish or an Englisch businessman when that day comes?”
“Only your brother can make that decision. You can’t make it for him.”
Emma bit back a retort, knowing he was right. She stared at the window at the passing scenery. Snow covered the shocks of corn stacked in the fields. It clung to the backs of horses and cattle grazing by the fences. “I know it seems like I nag, but I can’t help it. I want so much for him to be happy with our simple ways.”
“I can understand that.”
She glanced at him. “Are you happy with your Amish life now or do you long to return to the world?”
“I’m finding...contentment.” He looked at her and smiled, but something in the way he said it made her doubt him.
“Is that enough?”
“I pray it will be.”
She fell silent, not knowing what else to say. It wasn’t too much later that they pulled into the parking lot of the Big River hardware store.
There were three hitching posts out front for buggies as well as parking spaces for cars. Two buggies and three cars occupied spaces. “I wish I’d brought my notebook.”
“One like this?” Luke pulled a notepad from his pocket and handed it to her along with a pencil. She smiled her thanks. “You’ve thought of everything.”
Flipping it open, she wrote hitching rails and parking spaces.
Luke got out and came around to open the door for her. She grasped his hand to get down, and even with gloves on she could feel the energy that seemed to arc between them. Almost like the jolt she had received from the solar panel. After that, she made a point to avoid touching him. It was already hard to concentrate when he was near.
Inside the building, she met his mother’s cousin and they were soon being treated like honored guests. Albert Chupp and his wife, Esta, answered Emma and Luke’s questions, showed them how they kept track of inventory and wrote down the names of the suppliers they used. Emma had already thought of stocking lamps and lampshades, but she hadn’t considered the need for yards of cotton wick material or the replacement wheels that fed the wicks into the lamp. Nor did she have any idea that there were so many sizes of screws and bolts to be had.
By the time they left, she had pages and pages of her notebook full of simple items they could carry and tips for displaying merchandise. As she climbed back into the buggy, she sighed heavily. “There’s no way we can have a place like this.”
Luke got in and picked up the reins. “Don’t work in fear. Work as if God has everything under control because He does.”
She studied the building in front of her. “I reckon I’ll have to try. How am I going to make the outside of our store as inviting as theirs?” Patio furniture was grouped to one side while birdbaths and stacks of garden pottery lined the other side of the building. Her father’s store was much smaller. They wouldn’t have room for such big items.
“A little more color will help. Some of your colored lamps in the window along with pretty shades.”
“You’re right. Something bright. It will come to me.”
“Of course it will. You’re one of the smartest women I know.”
Her mouth dropped open at his compliment, but she quickly snapped it shut. He thought she was smart. Was she, or was she being foolish to hope he cared for her? He was being helpful—there was no denying that—but why? Was it because he cared about her?
* * *
Luke hoped he had done the right thing by bringing Emma with him. He didn’t want to discourage her, but she had to know what was involved in running a business like the one Zachariah was intent on starting. He regretted his decision to let Roy remain at home, but Luke was still working up the courage to ask Emma out. He didn’t want her brother in on that conversation. Next time, he would take the boy with him and let him see what kind of business his father was getting into, too.
Emma was quiet on the way home. She sat reading and rereading her notes. He glanced at her often, happy to simply be traveling with her. It amazed him that she didn’t have to do anything or say anything and he still enjoyed being near her.
Isn’t that what love is?
He listened to the small voice in his heart, knowing he was truly falling in love with Emma. It wasn’t the mad passion they had shared as teens. That passion was still there—he felt it whenever he looked at her or thought of her—but this new gentleness carried with it much richer emotions. Even so, he couldn’t act on those feelings until he was certain he belonged among the Amish. He had to know staying was God’s will for him. And he needed to know Emma’s feelings about Wayne.
He sighed deeply as he realized he couldn’t ask her out until he had those answers.
“Can we see some solar panels while we are out?” she asked.
“Sure. Timothy said he knows a man near Berlin that sells them. It’s not too far out of our way.”
“I think one of those we have is defective.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it shocked me just as hard as Jim Morgan’s electric fence.”
“Was the sun shining on it at the time? They produce electric power even in dim light.”
“Now you tell me. Are they dangerous? Can they start fires?”
“I don’t know.”
“These are things we must investigate before we install them for our new business.”
“I agree.”
“Goot.”
“You’re getting kind of bossy, aren’t you?” There was a hint of challenge in his tone.
She gaped at him. “I am not.”
“My mistake. I’ve been listening to Roy too much.”
“Roy says that I’m bossy?”
“He says you are always coming down hard on him.”
“The boy knows how to make me angry. I can’t seem to stop harping at him. I know I’m doing it, but he pushes until he gets that reaction from me.”
Luke tried to draw on some of his feelings and mistakes as a kid. “Give him more responsibility. Let him fail if he doesn’t get it right. He’ll learn more that way than you telling him he’s wrong.”
“I wish my father were here.”
“You’re doing a fine job. Just lighten up on Roy.”
* * *
Emma gritted her teeth to keep from replying to his suggestion. He didn’t have to deal with an unruly teenager day in and day out. He had been the unruly teenager.
Her fair-mindedness asserted itself. Maybe he did have a special understanding that she lacked because of his own teenage years. She would follow his suggestion and see if it made a difference. She wasn’t getting anywhere with Roy by doing it her way.
It didn’t take long to reach their second destination of the day. The furniture maker with a solar sideline turned out to be a jovial Amish fellow by the name of Reuben Kaufman. Emma discovered he sold all the usual Amish-made furniture along with solar-powered garden lights, solar panel kits and fence chargers.
“A while back Amish people frowned at solar powe
r. But now they see all the good it can do. I’ve run my cash register and key-cutting machine for ten years on solar alone. This summer I’m going to upgrade from my four small panels to eight larger panels. I’ve got this paint-mixing machine that takes a lot of energy. Gets expensive running my diesel generator all day.”
Luke asked a question about fuses, voltage and amps that left Emma completely in the dark. After that, the conversation turned technical. She had very little idea what they were discussing. Luke, on the other hand, appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself. She was astonished and a little bit uneasy at how well he understood the workings of the solar panels. He seemed more Englisch than Amish when he talked about the potential of solar energy. He was eager to learn everything he could. When Reuben mentioned there was a school to teach installation, Luke took particular note, jotting down the address and the phone number.
On their way home, she questioned his interest in the school. “Are you going to become a solar installer?”
“There’s no sense in selling something people can’t use. I was thinking it might be something that would interest Roy. He likes gadgets. With a certified installer, you could sell and install small panels for things like battery-powered fence chargers to keep cattle in. With a large enough array, a fellow could run a sewing machine, a vacuum, or a water pump and still have enough juice left over to charge the batteries for his buggy lamps. Imagine while you are working in the sun, the sun is working for you by charging your batteries so you would never have to buy gas or diesel to run a generator.”
“This all seems much too fancy.”
“Now you sound like Wayne. Very old-fashioned.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Wayne’s opinions. They are shared by many others.”
“By you?”
“In some cases.” She closed her mouth, refusing to argue with him.
“Then you should make a good pair.”
“I have told you nothing is decided between us.”
“But you are still considering him.”
“Because father wishes it.”
“Right.” He clicked his tongue and put the tired horse into a trot. Emma didn’t object. She was every bit as eager to get home as he was. And why wouldn’t he be? He thought she was bossy and old-fashioned and all but married to Wayne Hochstetler.
Luke Bowman didn’t know her well at all. And she barely knew him anymore. Could that change or would they always be on edge with each other?
Chapter Twelve
With the help of the bishop, his sons and several other men from the church district, the inside of her father’s shop was completed within a week. Late one morning, Emma left the last batch of chocolate-mint cookies she had baked for the cookie exchange cooling on the counter and walked through the store in amazement.
The ceiling was painted a bright white. Two skylights kept the interior from being dark. The walls were painted a soft mint green that made her think of summer and green apples. Two dozen shelves stood in rows waiting for merchandise. The wide-plank pine floors gleamed with wax. She would put a pen to paper tonight and describe for her father all that had been accomplished. The next step was filling the shelves. She pulled out her notebook and began to make notes about where things should go.
Shouting from outside drew her attention sometime later. She walked to the bay window and looked out but didn’t see anything. Pulling on her coat, she went outside and followed the noise to the west side of the house. Roy and Alvin were engaged in a running snowball battle around the henhouse. Luke stood a few feet in front of her, laughing at their antics. She had a perfect view of his broad back.
Opening her mouth to scold her brothers for playing when they should be working, she held her tongue instead. Luke’s advice to stop being so hard on Roy kept her silent. Everyone had been working hard. Maybe it was time for a little fun.
She glanced down at the sparkling snow by her boots and scooped up a handful. It was perfect for making snowballs. The sun had melted it just enough so that it packed together nicely. Quietly, she added another handful, making the ball she held almost the size of a softball. Hefting it from hand to hand, she stared at Luke’s back. It would be an easy shot.
“Don’t even think about it.” He hadn’t turned around. How did he know?
“Don’t think about what?” She feigned innocence and hid the ball behind her back.
He glanced over his shoulder. “You’ll be sorry.”
“Not as sorry as you’ll be.” She threw the snowball. It struck his shoulder, sending an explosion of icy crystals into his neck and face.
“That wasn’t nice, Emma Mae.”
A giggle escaped her. “Maybe not, but it was remarkably satisfying.”
Slowly, he brushed the snow away. “You know what has to happen now.”
“You must turn the other cheek.” She scooped a handful at him and bolted toward the house.
She didn’t make it five feet before he retaliated with a hit to the back of her head. She scrunched her neck against the cold sensation of snow sliding down beneath her collar. “Argh.”
“Told you that you’d be sorry.”
Glaring at him, she turned around. “This means war.”
He held up both hands. “Turn the other cheek, Emma. You’ll feel terrible if you don’t.”
Roy and Alvin had stopped and were watching. She hefted a new snowball and motioned slightly with her head. Roy nodded and grinned. He and Alvin left the henhouse and advanced quietly from the rear with a snowball in each hand.
To keep Luke’s attention. She planted one hand on her hip and held her snowball aloft like a shot put. “I will consider turning the other cheek after I hear an apology.”
“I’m sorry you hit me with a snowball first.”
“Not good enough.”
“I’m sorry you can’t throw very well.”
“I hit what I was aiming at.”
“I think you wanted my face but got my shoulder.” He took a step toward her.
Hopping back, she shook her head. “No, you don’t. You aren’t going to stuff snow down my back.”
“The idea never crossed my mind. Until you mentioned it.” He gave a deep laugh and advanced steadily.
She turned as if to flee, but spun back quickly enough to slap the snow in his face as he ran at her. He stopped and shook like a dog. “You are going down, and you are going to eat snow, girl.”
Giggling, she hopped from side to side, daring him to catch her. In a singsong voice, she chanted, “I have something you don’t have. I have something you don’t have.”
“And what would that be?”
“My brothers behind you.”
He spun around and ducked as Roy and Alvin threw with both hands. The snow hit Emma in the face and chest. She stood in openmouthed shock at the cold.
Luke and her brothers were laughing so hard they couldn’t stand up. Luke was rolling with mirth. Turning slowly around, Emma walked back to the store and lifted one of her father’s grain shovels from the rack. She walked outside, scooped up a shovelful, rounded the corner and dumped it on Luke. Her brothers scrambled to their feet, but she already had a second scoop loaded and she flung it toward them, showering them with white powder.
“I give up.” Luke was still laughing as he pulled his coat off to shake the snow out.
Her brothers took off firing at each other again.
Luke came toward her with his hands up. Something in his eyes alerted her to his intentions, but it was too late. He dove at her, carrying her into a nearby snowdrift. His fingers around her wrists prevented any retaliation. She was forced to lie in the cold snow until he released her.
The playful gleam in his eyes slowly vanished. His pupils darkened. “I think we should kiss and make up, don’t you?”
&nb
sp; Slowly, he leaned down.
* * *
Emma knew he was going to kiss her. If she turned her head to the side, it would be a simple peck on the cheek, part of the game, but she didn’t turn her face. She licked her lips, tasting the cold snow, and closed her eyes.
She could feel his warm breath on her lips, but he didn’t touch them. She lifted her face ever so slightly in invitation. He groaned and rolled away from her. Disappointment stabbed through her, followed by shame.
Sitting up, she pulled her coat tight at her throat. He lay on his back looking up at the sky. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Nothing happened. It was a silly game that got out of hand.”
He raised his head to look at her. “I wanted it to get out of hand.”
So had she, but she didn’t admit it. Wasn’t she pretty enough? Wasn’t she tempting enough? Why was she forever wanting him and he was forever turning away? It was cruel.
He rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Truce?”
She knocked his hand aside, pleased by the look of shock on his face. Rising to her feet, she stomped toward the house to change. He caught her by the arm. “Emma, wait.”
“Let me go.” She tried to jerk away, but he held her fast.
“I’m not sure what I did wrong.” He sounded so pathetic that she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. Now, let go of me.”
“I did something to upset you. I’m sorry. Emma, I respect you. I would never dally with your affections.”
“You don’t want to kiss me, that’s fine. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
He tipped his head slightly. “Wait, you’re mad because I didn’t kiss you?”
“Let it go.”
“Nee, not till I’ve righted a wrong.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. His lips moved over hers with a skill that left her breathless. He tasted of mint and chocolate. When her knees grew weak, he pulled away as breathless as she was.
“Was that better?”
An Amish Noel Page 13