by Sarah Price
A minute passed before she heard shuffling behind the door. She had almost given up, starting to turn away to retreat, in defeat, to return home to suffer some more. However, the door finally opened and Emma was surprised when Hetty’s maem herself welcomed her and invited her inside. As soon as she crossed over the threshold and shut the door behind herself, Emma looked around at the small kitchen. It was too quiet in the house, and she couldn’t help but wonder where Hetty and Jane were hiding.
Emma followed Hetty’s maem into the sitting room and, just as she was about to sit, caught a glimpse of Jane through the doorway. She was pale and disheveled, hunched over and still in her nightclothes. Seeing Jane in such a state startled her, for, despite their short-lived acquaintance, Emma had never seen her as anything less than impeccable and pristine in appearance. The young woman disappeared down the hallway, and Emma could hear Hetty talking to her, her voice low and soothing. Emma’s curiosity was piqued and she wondered what was going on with Jane.
“Excuse me for not greeting you. I was tending to Jane. She’s terribly sick, you see,” Hetty explained apologetically when she finally joined Emma in the sitting room. She assumed her regular seat, a look of grave apprehension upon her face which Emma worried was targeted toward her and not really toward Jane’s illness.
“Oh, dear,” Emma said in return, genuinely concerned. “I caught a glimpse of her just now. She didn’t look well at all! Has a doctor been called, then?”
Hetty shook her head and her maem clucked her tongue, obviously having understood Emma’s words. “Nee,” Hetty replied sorrowfully. There were dark circles beneath her eyes. “Jane suffers in silence, it seems. She refuses to be seen by anyone.”
“Why, that’s preposterous!” Emma was shocked by Hetty’s words. To be ill and refuse treatment? “Is she in pain?”
“She claims she has pain in her chest and is experiencing difficulty sleeping” was the simple reply from Hetty. “But no fever or chills. But the tears! She is blinded with the tears, a sorrow that I just cannot understand, I confess.” Shaking her head, she clucked her tongue three times before adding, “I just don’t know what to make of it.” She paused and lifted a finger to wipe at her eye. Emma realized that Hetty was fighting tears herself. “I worry that it is because she does not wish to return to her home next week. Maem and I will both miss her so. I’m just surprised that she might be afflicted with so much emotion at her departure. That causes me extra grief as well, I reckon.”
With a deep sigh, Emma sat back in her chair. She felt as if she wanted to disappear. She hoped that her own poor behavior toward Hetty had not contributed to Jane’s illness. After all, Jane seemed a rather fragile creature and doted on her aendi. Guilt washed over her and Emma bent her head, ashamed once again at how she had spoken to the older woman at the picnic. Yet the situation provided a timely opening for Emma to do her best to comfort Hetty and mayhaps make her forget the awful words she had spoken to her this week past.
“I shall pray for all of you to feel better,” Emma said. The statement was made with conviction and it was clear that she meant her words.
“Danke, Emma,” Hetty replied, nodding her head in approval. “You are always so kind.”
The word always stung, the irony not lost on Emma, despite the fact that Hetty had not meant it that way. She hung her head and looked away for a moment, a lump forming in her own throat. How gracious of Hetty to say something so kind, she realized, when she, herself, had been so cruel. “Mayhaps not always,” Emma managed to say. “And for that, I am so sorry, Hetty. I don’t know what got into my head and I must sincerely beg your forgiveness.” It was a speech she had practiced over and over again, although now that she spoke the words, they did not sound ample enough in their depth to convey what she was really feeling.
To her relief, Hetty smiled and patted Emma’s knee in reassurance. “No need to beg for anything,” she said quietly. “Forgiveness was given before it was needed.”
For a moment Emma wasn’t certain what to make of Hetty’s remark. Had she been in need of forgiveness before that day at the picnic when she made such a careless remark? Had her perpetual impatience with Hetty been so transparent? “I’m not quite certain how to react to that, I fear,” she managed to say, fighting the emotion that welled in her throat. “You humble me.”
“Then speak no more about it, dear Emma.” And with that, nothing further was ever mentioned on the subject of the incident at Yoder’s pond.
Emma, however, had been given food for thought from the most unlikely source. Long after she left the Blanks, she continued to evaluate her behavior. Upon returning home, she sat by the window before the new quilt that was spread in the quilting frame, but her finger merely held the thread, not moving through the fabric as her eyes stared out the window.
While Hetty had been quick to forgive her, Emma couldn’t help but wonder how Gideon would react to such an apology. Would he relinquish his displeasure with her? After all, his harsh words had been so full of emotion and disappointment they still echoed in her ears and tugged at her heart. She didn’t understand, exactly, why she was so unsettled, especially since everything had been made right with Hetty. She began to sew, but was so distracted that three times she had to undo her stitches, for she made them too far apart.
It was just before supper when her daed was taking his daily stroll down the road when Hannah surprised Emma with an unscheduled visit. She had been able to leave work early and had asked the driver to let her off at Emma’s house.
“Oh, Emma!” she said gaily as she practically skipped through the kitchen toward the sitting area. “I have such wunderbaar gut news!”
The glow on Hannah’s face made Emma temporarily forget her own reflections, which had been causing her such misery all afternoon. She spun around in her chair and somehow found laughter on her lips. It felt good to see her friend so happy, even if she, herself, felt so miserable. “Pray, tell me at once! I’m in great need of happy news!”
Practically falling into the chair next to Emma, Hannah clutched her hands to her chest and smiled. “You’ll never guess who stopped into market today!”
Truly Emma could not, and she admitted as much.
“Why, let me give you some clues!” Hannah said gleefully.
Emma returned Hannah’s smile. “All right then,” she said, playing along. “Go ahead and let’s see if I can guess!”
For a moment Hannah seemed to think about it, as if delightfully plotting her strategy to drag out the game. Her eyes glowed and the smile never left her face. “Let’s see . . . ” she began. “A young man!”
“That’s your clue?” Emma felt her dark mood slowly lifting. “I don’t think that narrows it down at all! Not fair. I want another hint.”
“He’s handsome,” Hannah offered.
“Clearly! Otherwise you wouldn’t be so giddy with joy!” Emma laughed. “Although we shouldn’t put such emphasis on looks now, should we?”
Another moment of pause as Hannah tried to come up with a more clever clue to properly suggest the subject of her delight. “He’s been visiting me at market.”
Now this was news, indeed. She searched her memory, trying to recall that Hannah had mentioned someone stopping to see her at the market. She couldn’t remember any
names. “You never told me someone was visiting you at market!”
“Ja, I did!” Hannah paused. “I think I did, anyway!” Laughing, she leaned forward as if sharing a big secret. “Just this day, he stopped in and inquired about ordering celery! He was most serious and stared me straight in the eye!”
Celery. A main dish at all Amish weddings and usually planted in the gardens for households that suspected a marriage in the autumn. However, plenty of Amish had neither the space nor the advanced warning to plant enough celery in their gardens. Plenty of farmers, particularly the Mennonites, grew fields of celery for this very purpose, selling it at market to the Amish families that would soon be in need of such. For a young man to suggest such a need directly to Hannah could very well indicate that he was intending to ask for her hand in marriage.
Emma was stunned: two proposals in less than one month? She had never heard of such a thing! And then it dawned on her. “Ralph Martin again?” Hadn’t Hannah mentioned she saw Ralph and his schwester at market? Hadn’t she recently been asked to visit them, and despite Emma’s raised eyebrow, she had gone? Certainly she meant Ralph Martin.
“No, goose!” Hannah laughed again, delighted that she had tricked her friend. “Why would I think of him? Have I not learned anything from you?”
“Francis Wagler?”
At this, Hannah looked startled. “Francis? Why on earth would you suppose him?”
“He did offer to take you home from the youth singing,” Emma suggested. “He told me so himself. Saved you from walking home. And he seemed rather friendly to you at the picnic.”
Waving her hand dismissively, Hannah shook her head. “Nee, not Francis. If he’s fond of anyone, it’s you!”
“Me?”
“Indeed! Didn’t he suggest you as the subject of that game?” Hannah didn’t notice that Emma stiffened at the mention of what she had come to think of as the “incident” at the picnic. Instead, Hannah giggled as she urged Emma to continue. “Now, guess again!”
“Mayhaps it would be easier if you just told me, then.”
“I can’t believe you can’t guess,” Hannah remarked, clearly disappointed for she obviously thought the answer was obvious. “Gideon King!”
The walls seemed to close in upon Emma. The reality struck her and she felt weak. Her throat closed and her heart pounded. Of course, she realized. Her mind reeled over the past few weeks, how Gideon had been attentive to Hannah. He had taken her home in his buggy after the Esh gathering. He had apparently planned the picnic by consulting Hannah first. Why, he had even brought her to that very picnic! The realization that Gideon might have been secretly courting Hannah struck her with such a force that she couldn’t speak.
“Emma!” Hannah said, her tone light and cheerful. “You act surprised! Say something!”
“I’m . . . I’m not quite sure of what to say,” she managed to whisper.
“Congratulate me, then!”
That was one thing Emma knew she could not do. “This . . . this seems rather sudden,” she stammered, aware of the sinking feeling inside of her chest.
“No more so than Paul and Alice, I reckon” came the quick, defensive retort.
“But he hasn’t asked you,” Emma said, although it was more of a question than an actual statement.
Hannah stiffened at what Emma was implying as if offended. “Nee,” she admitted. “He hasn’t. Not yet.” Her expression changed and she lifted her chin defiantly, an air of confidence about her that surprised even Emma as she added, “But he will.”
Still stunned, Emma sat in her chair and simply stared at Hannah. The thought of Gideon King actually marrying anyone, especially her friend Hannah, was more than she could bear. If anything, she realized, she’d prefer to see Gideon marry Jane, for then, at least, she would not have to feel jealous of a friend.
Jane.
Emma’s mouth fell open and she realized that, despite Hannah’s confidence, she could very well be mistaken. Gideon had been just as attentive to Jane as he had to Hannah, staring at her at church and at the picnic and including her with his little joke about Francis’s game. The old Emma might have said as much, but the new Emma, determined to speak with pleasantness in her heart, hesitated enough to carefully think through her response. The words raced through her head and she quickly assembled a more kind and thoughtful statement than what she was actually thinking.
“Mayhaps,” she began gently, “you should keep this to yourself, Hannah, until he actually asks you. There might be danger in letting your feelings run ahead of yourself.” Emma spoke slowly, pausing before she continued, for she hoped that her words would not offend. “I suspect that we have learned not to presume we know the outcome of a man’s thoughts when it comes to love, especially after what happened with Paul, ja?”
She knew from Hannah’s reaction that it was far too late for that. Clearly Hannah knew something that Emma did not. Paul was long forgotten, and Hannah’s heart was turned to Gideon. There was nothing Emma could say to warn her that mayhaps Gideon King was not interested in her at all but had his sights set on another: Jane.
“Why, of course I wouldn’t dream of telling another soul!” Hannah gushed.
“And . . . and you are quite certain of his affection?” She hoped that her voice did not betray the disbelief that she was feeling.
“Most undoubtedly!” Hannah giggled and clasped her hands in front of her, giddy with happiness. “Such a kind and thoughtful man,” she said out loud, although it appeared as if she were talking mostly to herself. She seemed to be thinking of something that gave her secret delight. Returning her attention to Emma, she smiled. “I knew it for sure and certain when he went out of his way at the picnic.”
The dreaded picnic. That again! Oh, how Emma wished that picnic had never taken place. “Out of his way?”
She nodded her head emphatically. “Ja, the picnic! He must have suspected how uncomfortable I would have been to arrive alone, and he insisted upon bringing me in his buggy. His courting buggy, no less!”
The image of Hannah’s face, glowing with delight as Gideon had guided the horse and buggy into the parking area flashed before Emma’s eyes. Had that not been the very first moment when Emma had realized that she too had feelings for Gideon? “I see,” Emma managed to say.
“Do say something else, Emma!” Hannah seemed to plead with her. “Tell me that you are happy!”
“Your happiness is all that I have ever wanted,” Emma said softly, hoping that her words masked her true feelings.
While the statement was true, Emma knew that she could never congratulate her friend on such a union. Fortunately her words seemed to satisfy Hannah’s need for affirmation. She reached out and took Emma’s hands, holding them tightly as she stared at her friend. “And I have you to thank for this!”
“Me?”
“You told me to believe in myself and to aspire to greatness. You even encouraged me to take note of his behavior!”
Inwardly Emma cringed, wishing that any encouragement had never come from her own lips. Oh, that I had never known her, she thought bitterly.
As Hannah prattled on about conversations she had with Gideon, Emma sank into further
reflection, occasionally nodding her head and smiling as if she were, in fact, participating in the conversation. Instead, she was beside herself, her mind reeling at this unfortunate news. If only she had not been so focused on trying to arrange other people’s lives, perhaps she would have paid more attention to her own. By encouraging Hannah, Emma now knew that she had lost the one person who, deep down inside, she may have always truly loved: Gideon King.
To make matters worse, the burden of this great loss rested entirely upon on her own shoulders.
When her daed finally returned home from his daily stroll, Emma could barely speak. With great apologies, she claimed a roaring headache and retreated to her room to lie down. She didn’t get up again until the sunlight dawn slipped through her window. It had been a sleepless night, and she feared that it was not going to be the last one she would have for quite some time.
Chapter Seventeen
THERE WAS A general murmur spreading throughout the congregation. It started as a soft whisper before growing much louder, although everyone tried to be discrete in voicing their surprise. At first everyone seemed to look at one another, as if questioning the person seated next to them whether or not they had heard correctly. Then, still disbelieving their ears, they stared back at the bishop. It was as if they were waiting for him to correct the announcement that he had just made. Certainly he had been mistaken. When they realized that the bishop had, indeed, been correct in what he said, that they hadn’t misheard him, their attention immediately shifted elsewhere.
Stunned, Emma sat upon the hard bench, trying hard not to look at the back of Anna’s head. She clutched the Ausbund in her hands, thankful that she had something to hold on to. For a long moment she stared at it, trying to comprehend what had just been announced. Try as she might, she couldn’t help but look up, fighting the urge to glance in Anna’s direction. However, in looking elsewhere, she noticed that half of the church was, indeed, staring at Anna, the other half at Samuel. It was hard not to do so. Only when Hetty dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief did people begin to look at her too. Undoubtedly her tears were a mixture of happiness for her niece’s betrothal as well as sorrow that Jane would undoubtedly move away.