by Sarah Price
With a quick glance in Emma’s direction, Gideon nodded his head, indicating that now was the time. “Today, Emma,” Gideon whispered when her daed was out of hearing. “We cannot delay this anymore.”
She pouted. “He’s dreaded this day since I was a little girl!”
Gideon laughed at her expression and reached out to touch her chin. “But you are no longer a little girl, need I remind you of that fact?”
She waited until he had returned and settled back into his recliner before she cleared her throat and, with one last apprehensive look at Gideon, took a deep breath and faced her daed. “I . . . I must tell you something that is quite wunderbaar gut news,” she started, wringing her hands nervously in her lap.
Henry frowned at her. “News? What news? Did someone stop by earlier when I was away?” He looked genuinely confused, knowing that Emma had not left the house that day so any news that she had received should have been shared well before now.
She laughed an uneasy laugh and looked at Gideon, who was seated beside her daed in the rocking chair. Once again he nodded his head in encouragement. Bravely Emma swallowed her fear and forced herself to say the very words that she had practiced with Gideon. “The news is about the very two people seated before you,” she said, gesturing toward Gideon. “We wanted you to be the first to know that the bishop will be announcing our banns at the next worship service.”
He simply stared at her, no expression on his face. Had he heard her? She waited for a response but there was none. Just as she was about to repeat herself, Henry finally blinked twice and, with a shake of his head, spoke. “How can this be?” He looked first at her, then at Gideon. “I don’t think I understand what you just said. Banns? The two of you?”
Emma nodded her head. “Ja, it’s true.”
Henry looked back at her, his eyes wide in disbelief. “Emma, are you sure?”
“Daed!” She gasped at his question. “Gideon is your friend! He’s a right gut man! How can you ask such a thing?”
“Nee, nee,” Henry started apologetically, quickly backtracking so that he was not misunderstood. “It’s not Gideon I worry for! It’s you!”
That was even more unsettling. “Me?”
“Why, you always said you’d never marry,” he explained, his voice still exposing the shock that he was feeling from Emma’s announcement.
Taking a deep breath, she admitted that much was true. “But I have changed my mind. When God leads one to unfailing love, one should not turn away.” She smiled at Gideon. “And that is what God has done.”
Henry’s face paled. “Then you will leave . . . ” As Emma had suspected, the thought of her marrying would be soured mostly by his fear of living alone.
Gideon cleared his throat and leaned forward. “If it is all the same to you, Henry,” he said. “Emma and I have discussed this matter, and we, with your blessing, would prefer to stay on here.”
“Here?” He looked from one to the other in complete disbelief. “Live here?”
“Ja, here!” Emma said quickly, her hand fluttering in the air nervously. “And, really,” she said with a timid laugh. “What difference would it make? I mean, after all, you do enjoy Gideon’s company so much anyway. You’re always so excited when he visits. Now, he’ll just ‘visit’ every day.”
Henry seemed to digest this news while Emma chewed on her lip, her familiar gesture of anticipation when nervous and waiting for someone’s reaction. She glanced at Gideon and he raised his eyebrows at her, an approving nod indicating that she had done well. Henry, however, clearly thought otherwise. As the realization that this marriage was truly going to happen sank in and that change was afoot, he turned his attention to Gideon.
“Are you sure?” He spoke slowly, questioning Gideon directly. “About living here? Your business is on your property.”
“And so it shall stay there,” Gideon quipped lightly. “Unless you wish me to move it here, of course.”
“Nee, nee!”
Emma and Gideon laughed at the serious expression that her daed wore upon his face. Only then did he realize that Gideon had spoken in jest.
Sobering, Gideon quickly explained. “It’s not so far away. A simple ten-minute drive by horse and buggy,” he said casually. “As for the haus, it’s not as warm and lively as yours. Besides, I can always rent it out, perhaps to another young couple that is soon to be wed?” He didn’t have to state that he was referencing Francis and Jane. It was a clever solution that Emma had thought up just the previous day.
Without any further arguments, Henry lifted his hands in defeat. “I see you have it all worked out,” he said. “This news certainly has taken me by surprise.”
“We know,” Emma replied softly.
“It will take me some time to get used to this idea,” he mumbled as he shook his head. “Gideon and my Emma. I never would have thought it.”
The next day Emma harnessed the horse to the buggy and drove the short distance to Gladys’s home in order to speak with Hannah. She dreaded the exchange, worrying that her friend’s self-confidence as well as her faith would suffer when she learned that, yet again, she had been mistaken about the courtship of a man and that again, Emma was at the core of it. In order to delay the inevitable, Emma let the horse walk most of the way to the Getz haus, using the extra few minutes to take deep breaths and practice, once again, the words she was going to say to her friend in order to ease their sting.
Fortunately Emma found Hannah alone at home, sitting at the kitchen table and peeling potatoes for supper. Gladys had gone visiting. One look at Emma’s face and Hannah already knew that bad news arrived with her friend.
“What is it?” she asked quickly, setting down the peeler.
“I must share something with you,” Emma admitted slowly. “I hesitate to do so because this situation is so similar to the last time I shared upsetting news with you, my dear friend.” Hannah stiffened her back as the meaning of Emma’s statement became clear to her. “The only difference this time,” Emma added, “is the fact that the misunderstanding was not due to my encouragement,” she said. “And it involves Gideon, not Paul.”
Hannah did not respond. She merely stared at Emma.
“And I fear that, this time, it involves me as well,” she said, hesitating as a dry feeling invaded her throat.
She found it hard to complete what she needed to say, for she knew her words would cause her friend certain pain. How many nights had Emma laid in bed awake, thinking that he was going to propose to Hannah? How many days had she paced the kitchen floor, fretting over the day that she would have to sit on a hard bench and watch as the bishop wed Gideon and Hannah? The pain that she had felt was how Hannah would undoubtedly feel when she realized that Gideon cared for another.
Swallowing her fear, she finally confessed what she needed to say. “I must confide in you that I have accepted Gideon’s proposal.”
A dark cloud passed over Hannah’s face. Clearly this was news that she did not expect. Emma didn’t blame her for looking confused. After all, the entire situation still seemed surreal to Emma too.
“I’m not quite sure how to respond to this,” Hannah admitted.
“I’m sur
e it comes as a surprise.”
“A surprise! Ja, to say the least!” There was a definite edge to Hannah’s voice. She stood up and paced the floor, her arms crossed over her chest. “First Paul and then Gideon? I just don’t know what to make of this!”
“Nor I,” Emma confessed.
Hannah turned around, a frown upon her face. “You? You don’t know what to make of this?” She exhaled loudly and lifted her eyes toward the ceiling. “You taught me to think highly of myself and I believed you.”
“That’s not fair,” Emma exclaimed. “While I admit that I was in error about Paul’s affection, I recognized my involvement and I apologized. I told you that I wouldn’t do it again, and if you recall, I never encouraged you to have feelings for Gideon. In fact, when you told me about your suspicions, I thought his attention might be focused . . . ” She paused, searching for the right word. “Elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere?”
Emma remained silent.
Hannah quickly understood what Emma’s silence meant. “Elsewhere. I see. You suspected his attention lay elsewhere, but certainly not with me. It’s never with me, is it?” she sighed, leaving unspoken the part that, for as frequently as it was not “her,” it was, however, “Emma.” Her shoulders slumped forward and she stared down at the floor, her eyes misting over. She sat back down on the sofa and shook her head, a look of sorrow on her face. “My aspirations were too high, I reckon, to expect his to be so low.”
Emma caught her breath at this late statement. Was that what this was about? Aspirations? Was she accusing Gideon of marrying Emma for her good standing in the g’may, instead of the real reason: that he loved her? While it was true that Hannah was still considered a newcomer to their church district and community and had not yet approached the bishop to become an official member of the g’may, that had nothing to do with Gideon’s proposal. Did she honestly think that Gideon, of all people, would think less of her for that?
“Nonsense!” Emma stood up and faced her friend, trying patiently to not be motivated by emotion when she spoke. “This has nothing to do with ‘aspirations’ being too high or too low! I find that mildly offensive, Hannah. After all, our aspirations should be to honor God and not set ourselves above others by showing prejudice. Have we not learned anything in the past few months?” She tried to calm down and took a deep breath, shutting her eyes for a long moment as she formulated her next words. “I’ve already apologized for any part that I had in your disappointment with Paul, and my heart aches for your pain at the perceived loss of Gideon. Just as we were mistaken with Paul, you were mistaken about Gideon. But I can assure you that this has nothing to do with ‘aspirations,’ Hannah.” She uttered the word as if it were poison.
She meant what she had said and felt a degree of disgust, both at Hannah for having voiced such a statement and at herself for her own past behavior living it. Hadn’t it been Emma’s hopes to help Hannah turn away Ralph Martin, a pig farmer, in the hopes of attracting the attention of Paul Esh, a young Amish man from a well-respected family in the g’may? Hadn’t Paul expressed his own prejudice at the thought of marrying Hannah, considering her unknown background less suitable for the son of a bishop, and preferring to propose to a more notable young woman: Emma? And then there had been the issue with Hetty at the picnic, the moment when Emma had shown such an ugly face to so many, disappointing them as well as herself. Finally, Emma knew that Gideon had been correct when he had accused her of having prejudice against Jane, not just because she was the talk of the g’may, but also because she suspected Gideon of taking a fancy to her.
Oh, Emma had learned some valuable lessons indeed. The experiences of the past two months had humbled her, teaching her to accept people for who they really were and not what they stood for. It was a lesson well learned and not a moment too soon. She reflected frequently on how far she had come, often wondering if Gideon would have proposed to her if she had not traveled such a journey.
The tears were now falling freely from Hannah’s eyes and she was covering her face with her hands, sobbing.
“Dear Hannah,” Emma said, her voice softening as she moved to sit beside the distraught woman on the sofa and tried to console her. “I’m so terribly sorry for any pain that you might feel.”
Quickly Hannah stood up and turned her back so that Emma could not see her tears. She tried to straighten her shoulders, attempting to put on a facade of strength that she clearly did not feel. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said softly, her voice wavering under her distress. “I’m suddenly not feeling very well and . . . and I think I might go lie down for a spell.”
Emma hung her head, knowing that it was time for her to leave. With a deep breath she stood up and started to walk toward the door. She turned her head and took a final look at Hannah, who was standing in the same spot, not moving and clearly waiting for Emma to leave. “I hope you feel better soon,” she whispered. She slipped out the door and headed for the buggy, thankful that with its help she could leave quickly.
When she arrived home, she found Gideon waiting for her on the porch. While she hadn’t told him everything, not wanting to embarrass Hannah, she had indicated that she was headed to share news that would greatly distress her friend. Had he suspected anything, he was too much of a gentleman to put his thoughts to words. Instead, he had offered to take her to see her friend, a kind offer that Emma had politely turned down. This was something she needed to do alone.
Now as she stopped the horse and buggy in front of the small barn, she found herself relieved. His consideration, as he was waiting for her return, knowing that Emma might need extra support, was thoughtful. Yet, upon seeing him there, she realized that, in hindsight, she should not be surprised. Gideon King was truly an unselfish man with great compassion for others. It was just like him to be overly concerned and show up to comfort her when she needed it.
With an apprehensive look on his face, he regarded her countenance as he crossed the driveway to help her unharness the horse from the buggy. When she gave no indication of what she was feeling, beyond an unusual silent air about her, he merely started to unbuckle the traces connecting the horse’s harness to the buggy.
They worked in silence, side by side, Gideon occasionally glancing at her and Emma still deep in thought. When they had finished tending to the horse, he walked with her to the haus.
“If you wish to talk about it . . . ” he finally said as she sank onto the sofa, leaning her head against the back of it.
Shutting her eyes, she sighed and tried to think about how to share her emotions with him without harming Hannah. There was no easy way around it, so she chose to merely shake her head. “Nee,” she responded but smiled gently at him. “What is the saying? ‘Less said, soonest mended.’ I think that applies nicely here.”
“Gut advice, Emma,” he said, taking a seat next to her. He reached out to brush aside a piece of stray hair that had fallen from her bun. “Now, let me tell you my news for the day!”
Not wanting to take away from his obviously good mood and interesting news, she sat up and tried to forget about Hannah. Time would heal that wound. “Please do tell me your news. I’m ready for a distraction, I think!”
“I spoke with the bishop today.” There was a sparkle in his eye. He reached out and took her hand in his.
She questioned him with her eyes. “And that is such big news?”
He laughed at her. “Nee, it is not. You knew that I was going to speak to him.” He lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. “But it is the next part that I don’t think you would have anticipated!”
“You delight in teasing me!” she protested.
“Indeed, I do!”
She threatened to withdraw her hand.
Again he chuckled and held it tighter. “Ja, vell,” he began. “I was speaking with the bishop and informing him of our intentions. And wouldn’t you know it that Alice was sitting in the next room, working on some mending. I do believe I caught her peeking around the corner while I made the arrangement for the banns.”
Emma gasped. “She didn’t!” He gently prodded her leg in jest. “She did indeed!”
Her mood began to lift and she joined him in laughing. “I can only imagine the reaction on her face!”
“And I wouldn’t be surprised if half of the g’may doesn’t know already!” He didn’t seem disappointed by this proposition. “I do believe that there will be no secrets safe in our g’may as long as Alice Esh is part of it!”
Within two days word spread of their upcoming announcement. Upon hearing the news, Anna insisted that Samuel bring her to the Weavers’ residence where, with one look at Emma’s face beaming with mirth and happiness, whatever she had just heard was instantly confirmed. They embraced and the room soon filled with laughter. Anna insisted that Emma sit with her and share the details of this surprising news.
“I suppose I should not find it so shocking as some other recent announcements,” Anna said, her way of indicating her own feelings toward Paul’s rash marriage and Francis’s unexpected engagement. “Gideon always did seem to be a fixture at the supper table, more so toward the end of my time living here, come to think of it.”