by Amy Clipston
Memories of Gabriel flashed through his mind like a movie. He suddenly recalled Emily’s sweet laugh and her gorgeous sky-blue eyes. Would she ever forgive him for leaving without explaining why or saying good-bye?
A tug on his sleeve drew his attention to a small person standing beside him.
“Onkel Chris?”
He glanced down at Mamie. She was clad in pink pajamas and had a doll secured under her right arm.
“Hi, Mamie.” He smiled and his spirit warmed as she returned the gesture. “How are you?”
“Will you hold me?” She pointed to his lap.
“Of course.” He opened his arms to her, and she crawled up on his lap, resting her head against his chest.
Mamie hugged her doll to her shoulder as her thumb found her mouth. Chris absently massaged her soft hair, and she closed her eyes. Soon her breathing slowed and she was fast asleep in his arms. He thought his heart might explode with love for his sweet niece.
Chris suddenly remembered his first conversation with John when he talked about becoming an uncle after Mike and Rachel had a child. Did John miss their softball games?
His thoughts turned to wondering what his life would have been like if he’d stayed in Bird-in-Hand and joined the church. Could he have married Emily someday and started a family? Air whooshed from his lungs, leaving him breathless for a moment. He held Mamie a little tighter as he tried to slow his spinning emotions.
Chris felt someone looking at him, and he glanced across the room to where Mamm and Rosanna beamed at him. The love in his mother’s eyes overwhelmed him as he smiled back at her. He was grateful to be back with his family, but something was missing.
Leaving Emily behind felt like someone had punched a hole in his chest.
CHAPTER 24
“WOULD YOU GO FOR A WALK WITH ME?” TILLIE ASKED Emily as they stood in Tillie’s kitchen Sunday afternoon.
It was an off-Sunday without a church service, and Emily’s parents had decided they would visit with Hank and Tillie instead of traveling to visit relatives or other friends.
“What about the dishes?” Emily pointed to the stack on the counter.
Tillie gestured toward where Mamm and Rachel were washing and drying utensils. “I think they can handle them. Come on. We’ll only be gone for a few minutes.”
Emily and Tillie grabbed their sweaters from the mudroom, stepped out into the cool afternoon breeze, and descended the porch steps. Emily had always been close to Tillie, but her request to speak to her alone had piqued her curiosity.
“How are you doing?” Tillie asked as they slowly walked together toward her garden.
“I’m fine.” Emily hugged her sweater to her middle. “Rachel’s wedding is coming fast, but I think we’re ready. The dresses are finally done, and we’re working on the table decorations now. Everything is coming together nicely. We have the menu all set, and—”
“That’s not what I mean.” Tillie put her hand on Emily’s arm, and they stopped walking. “You’re not one to talk about yourself, are you?”
Emily shrugged, and her cheeks burned with hot embarrassment. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Ya, you do know what I mean because you’ve been this way your whole life, Emily.” Tillie sighed. “I asked you how you are. If I wanted to hear about the wedding plans, I would’ve asked Rachel how her wedding was coming together.”
Emily gaped. Tillie always had a way of getting right to the point.
“How are you, Emily?”
Emily swallowed. “I’m okay.” It was a sin to lie, but she didn’t want to talk about how her heart was shattered. She kept herself busy by helping with Rachel’s wedding plans during the day and reading her grandmother’s devotional late into the night. Praying helped to comfort her during the most difficult times, which was when she was stuck between staring at the ceiling in her bedroom and sleeping. If she needed to keep her hands busy, she’d work on the quilt she’d started for Chris, even though she doubted she would ever give it to him.
If Emily allowed her thoughts to roam, she drowned in her favorite memories of Chris—his handsome face, the strong line of his jaw, the warmth of his gaze, the sound of his laugh, and those gorgeous blue-green eyes. Her memories had a way of sneaking up on her when she least expected it, taking her by surprise and sending waves of grief radiating through her.
While she was working on Mamm’s new dress for the wedding last week, she recalled the night she’d joined Chris working in the harness shop. That was the night when he’d poured out his soul to her for the first time, and they’d cried together as he shared the story of Gabriel’s accident. Emily had believed she and Chris had bonded that night and formed a lifelong friendship. But if their friendship was really so meaningful, why had Chris left without saying good-bye?
Emily crossed her arms over her chest as if to shield her broken heart. “Really, I’m fine.” She hoped she sounded convincing.
Tillie’s brown eyes glimmered with tears. “Chris called and left me a message, and he asked me to pass one along to you.”
Emily’s breath caught. “Chris asked you to give me a message?” She mentally kicked herself for sounding so desperate.
“Ya, he called Friday night to let us know he is doing well. He also asked me to tell you he’s sorry for leaving without saying good-bye, and he misses you.” She frowned. “He started to say something else, but he stopped himself. I suppose it was too personal for him to share with me.”
Emily scowled as anger shoved her grief out of its way. If Chris had something personal to say to Emily, why didn’t he call her?
Leaving a message through his aunt was impersonal, but as her anger quickly subsided, a glimmer of hope percolated inside of Emily. At least Chris had sent her a message, and it was almost satisfying to know he felt guilty for not saying good-bye to her. Maybe he did still have a conscience after all.
But if Chris cared, why had he hurt her?
“Danki for telling me.” Emily squeezed her arms closer to her chest.
Tillie touched Emily’s cheek. “I believe he cares about you, Emily.”
Emily nodded, but doubt had once again ripped through her.
And when would the pain ease as her parents had promised it would?
CHRIS CLIMBED THE STAIRS TO THE SECOND FLOOR IN HIS parents’ house and headed down the hallway to the sewing room. He unbuttoned his white shirt as he walked, eager to change out of his Sunday clothes. He’d spent all afternoon in the clothes while relaxing in the family room after the church service, but now he looked forward to going out to the barn to help Paul care for the animals.
He’d ridden to and from the service in Paul’s buggy with his family. Mamie had asked Chris to ride with her, which was the perfect excuse to avoid speaking to his father for another day. Dat hadn’t made any attempts to speak to Chris beyond muttering or nodding a greeting when moving past him in the hallway or asking for a tool or a nail as they worked on Paul’s house.
Chris stepped into the sewing room and pulled off his shirt and black trousers, then changed into work clothes. It had been strange to attend church in his former community. Although he’d been gone for only a short time, people welcomed him back as if he’d been gone much longer. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to see Chris again.
His stomach soured as he remembered seeing Salina Chupp. She’d smiled at him from across the barn during the service, and in a split second the memories from the day of Gabriel’s accident came crashing over him. He spent the rest of the service staring down at the toes of his shoes as he fought back the threat of volatile emotions. Salina had approached him after the service, and Chris was grateful one of his parents’ friends interrupted their brief conversation.
He tucked in his shirt and raked a comb through his hair. As he set the comb on the dresser, he noticed the tool set Emily had given him on the floor next to his duffel bag. He picked it up and ran his fingers over the plastic case. His gaze moved to the bag and the stack of p
ink envelopes peeking out of the side pocket.
He lifted them and pulled out the encouraging notes Emily had left for him at the harness shop. It felt as though his heart turned over in his chest as he reread her kind and thoughtful words. He wondered if Aenti Tillie had given Emily his message. If so, would Emily reach out to him?
Chris squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed a groan. How could Emily contact him if he hadn’t asked Aenti Tillie to give her his address or phone number? Emily might feel awkward asking for it.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Chris set the toolbox on the dresser and then stepped out into the hallway. As he pulled the door shut behind him, he looked over his shoulder to the door at the end of the hallway.
Gabriel’s room.
Chris’s hands shook and he gnawed his lower lip as he stared at the door. He hadn’t walked into Gabriel’s room since the accident, but now an invisible force pulled him toward it.
Inhaling a deep breath through his nose, Chris walked down the hall and stepped inside. He flipped on a lantern by the bed and scanned the room. It was exactly as Chris remembered it. Gabriel’s favorite green shirt, which Mamm had made to match his eyes, hung on a peg on the wall next to his black church hat. The quilt their mammi had made Gabriel when he was twelve was smoothed over his double bed. A shelf in the corner was jammed with Gabriel’s favorite novels, along with books detailing horse training and farming.
Chris crossed to the dresser and touched the items covering the top of it—a pocketknife, a wallet, a metal tray clogged with coins, a pack of Gabriel’s favorite flavor of bubble gum, and a tube of ChapStick. He picked up the pocketknife and pulled out the blade as memories assaulted his mind. He almost expected Gabriel to stomp into the room and tell Chris to stop touching his personal things. He recalled the sound of Gabriel’s voice and his contagious laugh.
A burning pit of emotion lodged in his gut. Gabriel would still be alive today if only Chris hadn’t told him to take that horrible horse to the pasture.
“Christopher?”
Chris glanced over his shoulder to see Mamm observing him from the doorway.
Her face contorted with a frown. “I thought you were going to have a piece of pie. Are you all right?”
“I’m not hungry.” His words were strained. “I changed my clothes so I could help Paul with the animals before bed.”
“Oh.” She eased through the doorway. “May I join you?”
“Ya. I was just, well . . .” Chris shrugged. What am I doing in here?
“I come in here sometimes too.” Mamm lowered herself down onto the edge of Gabriel’s bed and glanced around the room. “I can’t bring myself to pack up his things or even give away his clothes.” She moved her hand over the quilt. “I guess it seems strange to leave the room as it is since it’s not used, but sometimes it feels gut to be here while I’m thinking about him.” She met Chris’s gaze. “Does that make sense?”
“Ya.” Chris touched the spine of the cold metal blade.
“I miss him.” Her sapphire-blue eyes misted. “Sometimes I think he’s going to run into the kitchen and ask me to make him a hot dog.” Her lower lip trembled.
“I know what you mean,” Chris’s words were soft, and he hoped she wouldn’t cry. He recalled the calamitous sound of her sobs at the graveside service.
To his surprise, Mamm suddenly beamed. “I remember the last conversation I had with him. He asked me if I would trim his hair because he was finally going to ask Sallie Zook to ride home with him after the youth gathering.”
“Really?” He clearly remembered his younger brother’s interest in Sallie. Gabriel talked about her nonstop some days while they mucked the stalls. He’d had a crush on her since they were in school together, but he was only brave enough to say hello to her, not the equivalent of asking her out on a date.
Mamm’s grin brightened, lighting up her entire face. “Ya, he had finally worked up the courage.”
Chris blinked with a mixture of surprise and awe. “He hadn’t told me that.”
“I think she would’ve said yes too. I think she had a crush on him. I remember seeing her watch him during church, and she would blush whenever he walked past her.” Mamm sighed, touching the quilt once again. “Gabriel was such a gut bu. He was so kind and thoughtful. He thought the world of you too.”
Unease spread through Chris like wildfire as he recalled the grief in Sallie’s eyes when he’d seen her at the graveside service. He was surprised she hadn’t blamed him for Gabriel’s death once she’d witnessed his father’s accusations.
He took a ragged breath and turned his focus to the knife, taking in the inlaid design of a horse.
“Have you spoken to your father?”
The question caught Chris off guard. He shook his head. “No, I haven’t. It never seems like the right time, and I also haven’t gotten the feeling Dat wants to talk to me.”
“You should start the conversation.”
“Paul has given me the same advice, but I don’t even know what to say to Dat.” Chris leaned a hip against the dresser. “He wasn’t exactly welcoming when I arrived last week.”
“What do you mean?” Mamm’s brow wrinkled.
“He barely spoke to me. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want me here.”
Mamm blew out a puff of air. “Would you do me a favor? I’ve lost one son, and then you left, pushing the knife deeper into my soul. Now you’re back, and my family is intact. I can’t bear the thought of losing you again. Please don’t let your dat push you away. Would you talk to him for me? Just do it for my sake to make me froh.”
Guilt had Chris in its grip. He couldn’t possibly say no to her request and risk deepening his mother’s bereavement. “Ya. I’ll try to talk to him . . . when the time is right.”
“Danki. Now, tell me about your freind Emily.”
Chris groaned and flipped the blade closed on the pocketknife. “There’s nothing to tell you.”
“What do you mean?”
Chris hesitated but then decided to share everything about Emily with her, including their last conversation and how he’d returned to Ohio without saying good-bye to her.
“I’m sure she’s given up on me, and I don’t blame her. I’m a lost cause.”
“You’re not a lost cause. Do you love her?”
“Ya.” Chris rubbed his chin. “I do. She’s my best freind.”
Mamm’s blue eyes sparkled, and he recognized that look. She’d had the same excitement when Paul told her he was going to marry Rosanna and again when Paul announced he and Rosanna were expecting.
“Don’t get any ideas, Mamm. Not only am I not baptized, but she’s in Pennsylvania, and I’m here. It could never work between us.”
“Christopher, you’ve always been so cautious and hesitant about decisions. You never rushed into anything, and you’ve never had any faith in yourself.” She frowned. “I’ve always wondered if it was because your father criticized you, especially for not being as skilled at horse training as Paul is.”
“You knew about that?” Chris asked.
“Ya, I did.” Mamm frowned. “I heard your dat say something about it, and I asked him to be patient with you. You know how he is. He’s very stubborn.”
Chris fidgeted with the knife once again.
“It’s your decision whether to join the church,” she began, “but I hope you’re not holding back just to spite your dat.”
Chris blinked. “I never said that.”
“No, you didn’t. But you didn’t leave the community and go out in the English world as some of your freinden did, and I’ve always had the feeling your troubled relationship with your father was holding you back. I know what he said to you at Gabriel’s service wounded you too, and I hope if you and your father talk this out, he’ll apologize and you’ll forgive him.”
She looked at him for a moment. “If not because of your father, then why haven’t you joined the church? You could have done it well before Gabriel’s
accident, so it can’t be all about that.”
He shrugged as anxiety washed over him. “I never felt I was worthy.”
“Christopher, none of us is worthy of God’s love, but he loves us anyway.” She stood and walked over to him, then reached up to place her warm hand against his cheek. “After Gabriel died and you left, I realized how rarely I made a point of telling you buwe how proud I am of all of you. Maybe if I had, you would feel better about yourself. But I am proud of you, Christopher. Very proud. You are a wunderbaar young man, and if Emily is half as special as you say she is, she will wait for you to figure things out. Just don’t make her wait too long.”
Dumbfounded, Chris stared at Mamm as she turned and walked to the doorway.
She stepped into the hallway and then glanced back over her shoulder at him. “Are you going to join us for dessert? I made apple pie.”
“Ya, I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Gut.” Her focus moved to the knife in his hand. “Keep that pocketknife. Gabriel would want you to have it.”
Chris looked down at the knife and then back up at her. “Danki.” He slipped the knife into his pocket. “I think I’m going to sleep in here tonight.”
“Okay.” Mamm smiled and then disappeared down the hall.
CHRIS SNUGGLED DOWN UNDER GABRIEL’S QUILT LATER THAT evening. He rolled to his side and stared at the shadows on the wall. He was struck by Mamm’s words from earlier. “Christopher, none of us is worthy of God’s love, but he loves us anyway.”
Of course she was right. Was she also correct when she accused Chris of refusing to be baptized just to spite Dat, the bishop? Had Chris been that immature and vindictive because he was jealous of the close relationship Dat shared only with Paul through horse training and the hurt he felt from his father’s criticism?
Chris frowned as humiliation coiled in his chest. Ya, Mamm may have hit the nail on the head. Why haven’t I realized the truth on my own?
He closed his eyes and Emily’s angelic face filled his mind. Do I belong with Emily? If she waits for me, does that mean I should go back to Bird-in-Hand to be with her?