by Amy Clipston
Chris rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as confusion clouded his thoughts. His heart told him to listen to Emily and talk to her bishop about joining the spring baptism class. His head, however, told him to stay away from Emily and allow a more deserving man to ask for her hand in marriage and build a life with her.
Which answer was the right one? Where did he belong?
An ache started behind his eyes, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was a mess. He was no closer to figuring out his life than when he’d first arrived in Bird-in-Hand.
Chris heaved a deep sigh that seemed to bubble up from his toes. He had just looked out toward the pasture again when the phone rang in the shanty. He frowned. The phone continued to ring, and he stared at the shanty for a few moments longer.
Finally, inquisitiveness shoved him out of the chair and pushed him down the porch steps. Once in the shanty, he picked up the phone’s receiver and held it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Christopher? Is that you?”
“Ya, ya.” Chris dropped onto the bench. “Mamm. How are you?”
“I was hoping to reach you.” Her voice wobbled. “I was afraid you were at church or visiting.”
“No.” Chris shook his head as if she could see his face. “I stayed home today, but Aenti Tillie and Onkel Hank went.”
“Oh.” She paused. “Are you ill?”
“No.” He needed to change the subject. “Is everything all right?”
“No.” Her voice was thick. “Paul had a fire at his haus last night.”
“What?” Horrific images slashed through him. “Is he all right? How are Rosanna and the maed?”
“They’re all fine. Praise God. I can’t imagine losing them after . . .”
Chris swallowed hard, following her train of thought. He shoved a shaky hand through his hair.
“Rosanna had a pot on the stove when she heard Mamie scream and rushed to see what was wrong. It turned out the girls had gotten into some markers and Betsy was chewing on one. She had green marker all over herself, head to toe.” Mamm clicked her tongue. “Rosanna was cleaning her up in the bathroom when she remembered the pot. Back in the kitchen she found flames already spreading to the curtains above the sink. She thinks she dropped a potholder too close to the burner when Mamie’s scream scared her.”
“Ach, no!” Chris gasped.
“She got the kinner out and screamed for Paul. He ran out of the barn and called nine-one-one. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but the haus is a mess. They’re going to stay with us for a while. The men in the community are going to start helping with the haus tomorrow. They have to replace two exterior walls in the kitchen, along with the appliances and cabinets. There’s also quite a bit of cleanup, and repainting is needed because of smoke damage.”
“It sounds like a lot of work.” An image of his brother’s large, white clapboard house filled his mind. The two-story home included five bedrooms, a spacious kitchen, and a large family room, evidence of the success his brother enjoyed from his growing horse business. He imagined smoke pouring from the kitchen at the back of the house.
What a nightmare for Paul and Rosanna, and their little girls must have been terrified. Sadness slid over him as he imagined his nieces sobbing in their parents’ arms as the firefighters put out the blaze.
“While the men work, the women are going to have to wash all the linens and clothing,” Mamm continued. “It may take some time, but your dat and Paul think they should be back in the haus by Christmas. It could’ve been much, much worse. Thank God they are safe and the damage is minor.”
“I’m so relieved to hear that.”
“I wanted to call you last night, but it was so late. I thought you might have been in bed already, and I didn’t feel right leaving you a message and running the risk of worrying you. I thought it would be better if I talked to you so I could explain that Paul, Rosanna, and the girls are okay.”
“Danki. You called at a gut time. I was just sitting on the porch when I heard the phone ring.”
“Is everything okay, Christopher?”
“Ya,” he said, a little too quickly.
She was silent for a few moments, and he imagined her winding the phone cord around her finger while contemplating what to say to get him to open up to her.
“Why did you stay home from the church service?”
The question was simple, but the answer was too painful for him to share. “I just felt like being alone today.”
“Is everything all right with your freind Emily?”
Chris cringed, wondering if Mamm could read his emotions over the phone. “Ya, Mamm,” he fibbed. “Everything is fine.”
“Oh, gut.”
They were both silent for a few moments, and an ache radiated through his rib cage. He missed his family.
“I’ll let you go, Christopher. I just wanted to tell you about the fire and let you know everyone is okay.”
“I’m glad you called.” The words sprang from his lips.
“It’s always so gut to talk to you. I’ll call you soon. Give my love to Hank and Tillie.”
“I will. Good-bye.” Chris hung up the phone and then leaned back in the chair, resting his head against the wall of the shanty. He closed his eyes and visualized the men in the community working on Paul’s large farmhouse.
And then he recalled Paul standing in the hallway outside their bedrooms the night of his wedding. “You know, Chris, we may argue sometimes, but we’re still bruders. I’ll miss you.”
The urge to help rebuild Paul’s house clamped down on his shoulders, digging into his muscles like a hundred sharp knives.
I need to go home and help. I need to be there for mei bruder.
The notion caught Chris off guard. He tried to push it away, but the idea remained, echoing through his mind. Yes, he did need to help Paul, because if the situation were reversed, Paul would help him.
Was that why Mamm called? Did she expect him to come home and help?
Or is Mamm hoping this event might be the catalyst to bring me home?
Chris stood and exited the shanty, and his gaze moved to the Fisher family’s house. A vise clamped over Chris’s stomach and twisted. He needed to go home as soon as possible.
Was this the sign Chris needed to find the strength to walk away from Emily and give her the chance to find a man who deserved her love? Emily didn’t need Chris, but his family back in Ohio did.
But if that was true, why did the idea of leaving Emily cut him to his core?
CHAPTER 21
“I’M SURPRISED CHRIS WASN’T IN CHURCH TODAY.”
“Ya,” Emily said as she and Rachel climbed the porch steps later that afternoon. She looked toward Hank’s house. She’d hoped she would see Chris today and maybe even get a chance to speak to him, but his absence only drove home what she’d feared most—their friendship was over.
“Do you think he’s ill?” Rachel held the back door open for Emily to step through.
“No. I think he’s avoiding me.”
Rachel frowned. “I was thinking the same thing, but I didn’t want to say it.”
“You can be honest with me. I can handle it.” Emily hung her sweater on a peg in the mudroom. She could tell Rachel had more on her mind but was hesitant to express it. “What else do you want to say?”
Rachel hung up her sweater. “Nothing, nothing.” She stepped into the kitchen. “Would you like some tea?”
“Rachel.” Emily followed her. “Don’t be afraid to tell me how you feel. You’ll probably say something I’ve already been thinking.”
Rachel started filling the kettle with water. “He might be avoiding you, but maybe he needs a day or two to think things over. It may not be a bad thing, you know?”
“Ya. Maybe he just needs some time.” The feeling of dread that had burned in her belly yesterday continued to smolder.
Emily moved to a cabinet and pulled two mugs from the bottom shelf as Rachel set the kettle on a burner. Her gaze moved to the window, an
d she saw her parents walking together out of the barn. Although they both had serious looks on their faces, they were holding hands. She sighed. She longed to find a strong relationship like her parents had. Would she ever have a husband who would support her emotionally, no matter what they faced together?
Her knees felt weak as she recalled the pain and anguish contorting Chris’s handsome face when he told her he didn’t think he was worthy of the church or the community. She’d prayed for him and his family during the church service this morning. She begged God to change Chris’s mind and lead him back to the church . . . and to her.
In a moment of renewed strength, Emily longed to march over to Hank’s house right now and again tell Chris how wrong he was. She wanted to convince him to reconsider and give the community another chance, but she had to step back and let Chris come to her. She couldn’t force him to change his mind. Only God could convince him.
Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t want to cry again. She’d cried herself to sleep last night, and she didn’t want to spend today crying too.
“Em? Are you all right?”
Emily turned to where Rachel stood observing her, two tea bags in her hand. “Ya, I’m fine.” She set the mugs on the table and then pointed to the cookie jar. “There should still be some kichlin left from the batch I made Thursday.”
“Oh yeah.” Rachel set the cookie jar between the mugs. “Chocolate chip. My favorite. After I’m married, will you sneak kichlin over to mei haus so I can tell Mike I made them for him?”
Emily laughed, a true, genuine laugh, releasing some of the sorrow and despondency haunting her. “You really think you can pass off my baking as yours? Rach, you do realize Mike is much smarter than that.”
Rachel giggled. “You’re right, Em. Mike knows you’re the much better cook, but it was worth a try.”
Emily laughed some more and then wiped her eyes.
Rachel gave Emily’s arm a squeeze. “It’s so gut to see you laugh. I promise you everything is going to be okay. Just give Chris time.”
“I’ll try.”
“Gut.”
Rachel pulled her into a warm hug, and Emily rested her cheek on her sister’s shoulder. She hoped Rachel was right and Chris would come back to her soon.
“I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING.” CHRIS SAT DOWN ON A chair across from his aunt and uncle later that evening. They were in the family room. A pang of sadness crept up on him, but he tried to shove it out of the way and instead focus on his family and how much they needed him. “I got a call from my mother earlier. She had some bad news.”
“Oh?” Aenti Tillie’s eyes widened as she looked at Onkel Hank.
“What happened?” Onkel Hank asked.
When Chris told them about his brother’s house fire, his aunt and uncle both gasped. “Mamm said everyone is fine, but the haus sustained quite a bit of damage.”
“Praise God they’re all right,” Aenti Tillie said, squeezing his uncle’s hand.
“Ya.” Onkel Hank frowned. “I’m so thankful they are okay. What a horrible scare for Rosanna and the kinner.”
“I know.” Chris took a deep breath. “I want to go home to help them rebuild the haus.” His tone strained against his churning emotions. “I feel like I should. I know Paul would do it for me.”
“Oh.” This time Onkel Hank’s eyes grew wide. “I understand. When do you want to leave?”
“Tomorrow.” Chris rested his forearms on the arms of the chair. “I called the bus station, and there’s a bus leaving in the morning. Could I contact your driver and get him to pick me up first thing?”
“Ya.” Onkel Hank looked at him, his eyebrows raised, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
Aenti Tillie tipped her head to the side. “Are you ready to work things out with your dat, or do you think you’ll come back here?”
Chris rubbed one of his tense shoulders with his opposite hand. Conflicting emotions took hold of him. “I don’t know if I can ever work things out with mei dat, but I feel like Paul needs me.”
“That’s a gut start.” To his surprise, she smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“I am too,” Onkel Hank added. “We will miss you, son, but you are always welcome here.”
“That’s right,” his aunt said. “If you decide you want to come back and stay here or if you want to come and visit, your room will always be waiting for you.”
“Danki. I’m going to go finish packing.” As he stood, he felt as though a ball of ice had formed in his chest. He was about to walk away from Bird-in-Hand and sweet Emily.
He climbed the steps, then made his way into his room. He saw the tool kit Emily had given him sitting on the dresser. He ran his fingers over the cool plastic case as he recalled the excitement in her eyes when he’d opened it. He was afraid she would ask for the tools back when he told her they couldn’t be together. But he was glad she hadn’t. He wanted to take them back to Ohio with him in case he never returned but found a leatherworking opportunity somewhere else.
And because he would always treasure her thoughtfulness.
Chris crossed the room to the window and looked over at her house. He longed to see Emily’s beautiful blue eyes and breathe in her scent of strawberries and cinnamon. He’d never had such a strong bond with anyone in his life. But their relationship was forbidden. If he pursued her without being baptized, he would get her into trouble, possibly even shunned. He couldn’t risk that. Yet he longed to be with her. She consumed his thoughts.
The little voice in the back of his mind instructed him to go to Emily and tell her good-bye, but he couldn’t get his legs to move. Instead, he stood cemented in place, staring at her house and wondering if he would ever see her again.
Chris sank down onto the edge of the bed, and it creaked under his weight. By Tuesday evening, he would be back in Ohio with his family, and Bird-in-Hand would soon be a distant memory.
But would the pain slicing through his soul ever fade?
EMILY CARRIED THE PICNIC BASKET AS SHE WALKED DOWN the path leading to the harness shop Monday afternoon. Although she’d promised herself she’d let Chris come to her, she couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that he needed her. She’d spent most of the night tossing and turning as she worried about him.
When she finally pushed herself out of bed that morning, she was consumed with the urge to take him lunch. After the breakfast dishes were done and the laundry was hung on the line, she packed ham and cheese sandwiches, along with pretzels and cookies, and then headed out to the harness shop.
Unease cramped Emily’s stomach muscles as she approached the door, and she sent up a silent prayer to God, asking him to use this lunch to help Chris realize Emily still wanted to be his friend.
She wrenched the door open and walked through the showroom. Hope blossomed in her chest as she approached the work area. She was thankful there weren’t any customers in the shop, and she hoped she and Chris could get some time alone to talk and possibly even work things out.
She was surprised to find only her father and Hank working. She crinkled her brow as both Dat and Hank looked up and their eyes widened.
“Where’s Chris?” Emily shifted the basket on her arm.
Dat’s gaze moved to her basket and then up to her face. “You brought Chris lunch?”
“Ya, I did.” Why was Dat surprised? She’d brought him lunch before. “Where is he?”
Hank frowned. “Chris didn’t talk to you last night?”
“No. I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday morning.”
Hank’s face contorted to a deep frown. “You don’t know.”
“I don’t know what?” Unease swelled up in her chest. “What do you mean?” She looked back and forth between them and her unease exploded into frustration. “What’s going on?”
Dat frowned. “Chris left this morning.”
“He left?” Emily tipped her head to the side. “I don’t understand. Where did he go?”
“He went back to
Ohio,” Hank said. “He went back to be with his family.”
“What?” Emily squinted. They weren’t making any sense. Then reality crashed into her, and her breath came out in a rush. “He left? For good?”
“Possibly. I’m really not sure, mei liewe,” Hank said. “His bruder had a haus fire. Everyone is okay, but the haus needs a lot of work. Chris said he needed to go home to help him rebuild. Tillie and I told him he’s always welcome to come back, but he said he wasn’t sure what he’d do after the haus was fixed.” He paused. “I’m so sorry, Emily. I thought Chris told you. He got the call while we were at church yesterday, and I assumed he went to see you before he told Tillie and me he was leaving.”
“He left.” This time it was a statement, and her body was shaking like a leaf caught in a windstorm. “He left me without saying good-bye.” Knots formed in her stomach and became balls of lead. “I can’t believe it.” She dropped the basket, and it landed with a clatter on the floor.
“Emily.” Dat shot to his feet and touched her arm. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” A torrid tide of tears burned her eyes. She took a step backward and smacked her spine against the wall, sending stinging pain cascading down her back. She had to get out of there before she started to cry. “I need to go.”
“Emily, wait.” Dat held up his hands as if to calm her. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for why he didn’t tell you he was leaving.”
“Ya, there is.” She gave a derisive snort. “He didn’t care enough about me to tell me he was leaving. Our friendship meant nothing to him.”
“No, no,” Hank insisted. “That’s not true. He told Tillie and me that he cares for you very deeply, but he’s not ready to join the church.”
She didn’t want to hear this. Nothing Hank could say would heal her crushed and dejected soul.
Emily wiped tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and pointed to the basket. “You can have the lunch. I’m going home.” Her voice sounded foreign to her, and her throat ached when she spoke.
Dat started to speak, but before he could respond, she rushed out the door and ran up the path to the house. She exploded through the back door, through the mudroom, and into the kitchen. Mamm was standing at the sink and, startled, turned to Emily.