by Amy Lillard
“Blend in,” she repeated, watching as the door of the house swung open and a young girl stepped onto the porch. She was about Emily’s age, scantily dressed and holding a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. Somehow Emily knew it wasn’t lemonade in the plastic cup. “Like her?” she asked.
Luke looked at the girl, then back to Emily. “Sort of. I mean, the Englisch world is different, Em. You can be who you want to be here. You don’t have to worry about the bishop or the Ordnung.”
“The bishop is my vatter.” She pulled her arms around her, hugging herself as a young man joined the girl on the porch. He hooked one arm around her waist and hauled her to him, kissing her with such intimacy that Emily blushed. “I think you should take me home, Luke.”
He turned to face her in the dark interior of the car. “What if I don’t want to take you home?”
On the porch the young man continued to maul the girl, groping at her with drunken hands. She didn’t seem to mind, pawing at him in much the same way. Emily was embarrassed for the two of them.
“You care so little about me that you would make me stay someplace that is uncomfortable for me?” She dropped her gaze to her lap, unable to look at him or the sloppy couple on the porch.
“Em, I love you, you know that.” He cupped one hand on her chin and tilted her eyes up to meet his once more.
“Do you?”
“Jah.” It was the first time he had said anything in Deutsch since he had picked her up. The one word was comforting, a soothing balm against her raging turmoil.
He lowered his head, his intentions clear. Yet if she had thought his kiss would clarify anything, she was wrong. It only made matters worse. Where was the drop in her stomach, the excitement, the breathless anticipation?
“Are you ready to go in?” Luke asked.
“I . . . I want to go home,” Emily replied.
Even with only the streetlights illuminating the interior of the car, Emily saw his eyes darken from the color of the sea to a turbulent blue of stormy skies. “Why?”
“I don’t belong here with those people.” She nodded her head toward the porch, but the kissing couple had disappeared. It didn’t matter; her meaning was clear.
“You belong with me.” His words rang with an emphatic note, a certainty she no longer felt. The change made her itchy, uncomfortable in her own skin.
“Do I?”
“What are you saying, Em?”
Emily shook her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
Luke’s expression turned as unsettled as his eyes. His back stiffened. “Is this about Elam?”
She shook her head and, surprisingly enough, it was true. This wasn’t about Elam. This was about her and Luke and feelings that had been in place so long they had become stagnant and not grown as the two of them had. Elam was another matter entirely. He was the future—of that she was certain—and Luke . . . Luke was the past.
Tears filled her eyes. “Please take me home.”
“I don’t understand. I came back here for you.”
“I know.”
“I quit my job and—”
“You quit your job?”
He shrugged. “It was a dumb job. But I wanted to be here with you. And now you’re telling me that we’re through.”
“I never said that.”
“You might as well have,” he huffed.
Emily laid her head back against the car seat and closed her eyes. “I never wanted any of this to turn out this way.”
“Yet you still went out with Elam Riehl.”
“That’s not fair.” She swung her gaze to him. A muscle in his jaw bunched and jerked as he ground his teeth together.
“Are you denying that you went out with him?”
“You left!”
“To make a better life for us.”
“What’s wrong with the life we had here?”
“Everything!”
Emily sucked in a deep breath. “Why are we yelling at each other?”
Luke leaned forward and propped his head on the steering wheel. “I don’t know.”
“What are we going to do about it?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“Do you think maybe we’ve been in love so long that we just don’t love each other anymore?” The quiet question hung in the air.
He looked up, meeting her gaze in the dim interior of the car. “That’s dumb.”
She sighed. “Love is dumb.”
“Do you love him?”
“Elam?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know.”
“I meant what I said, Emily. You are mine, and I don’t want to lose you. I’ll do anything to keep you.”
“Does that include leaving racing behind and joining the church?”
Dead air filled the space between them. Outside the music blared, traffic raced by, and people shouted to one another. Yet there, in that expensive car, only silence could be heard.
“I love racing,” he finally said.
“More than me?”
“That’s not fair,” Luke said, repeating her earlier sentiment.
Emily nodded, pleating a crease in her apron. “None of this is.”
A heartbeat pounded between them, then another.
Luke reached for the keys and started the engine. “I’ll take you home.”
Emily sat back and pulled her seat belt across her lap once more.
She tried to relax, but her thoughts were all a jumble. When had life taken such a complicated turn? Or maybe the question was why?
All she had ever wanted was to marry Luke, have babies, and live her life out as one of the Amish in Wells Landing.
Then Luke went to the Englisch world, and Elam professed his love. Now everything was so confused, she didn’t know whether she was coming or going. One thing was certain . . . Luke Lambright was not part of her future.
She looked over at him, his eyes straight ahead as he studied the road.
His fingers tightened on the wheel, and his lips pressed together. If she didn’t know better, she thought the car went a little bit faster.
But she didn’t know, and she couldn’t gauge such fast speeds.
The tires squealed as they rounded a turn.
“Luke?” Emily braced her arms at her sides, one on the center console and the other on the car door. “You’re driving too fast.”
He scoffed. “Don’t be such a wuss, Em. I’m a race car driver, remember? We’re supposed to drive fast.”
“This isn’t a racetrack.” Her voice trembled, and she cleared her throat to bring the warble back under control.
“Do you think I don’t know how to drive?”
“Luke,” she begged. “You’re scaring me.”
Once again he made a derisive noise. “I got this, Em.”
But she was certain he slowed just a bit. Or maybe it was the curve warning up ahead.
“Holy crap.” Luke braked hard.
Emily braced herself and looked through the windshield just in time to see a stalled truck in the middle of their lane. Red lights flashed, and the tires squealed as Luke worked to get the car under control and avoid the truck.
“Hold on,” he told her, turning the wheel this way and that. The smell of burning rubber filled the night air, mingling with the words of Emily’s silent prayer.
Then as if everything sped up and slowed down at the same time, Luke gritted his teeth, turned the wheel as far as he could, and pushed the brake pedal down as far as it would go. His struggle to control the car was the last thing she saw before she heard the sickening thud of the crash and the clatter of breaking glass.
Chapter Nineteen
Emily blinked. Her head hurt. Her lip hurt. Her arm hurt. She blinked again. Everything was blurry, out of focus, and a bit too bright so she closed her eyes again.
“Em?” Was that Luke?
“Is she coming around?” This from a voice she didn’t recognize.
“Luke?�
� she whispered. “What happened?”
A warm palm touched her cheek. “You’re going to be okay, Em. You hit your head.”
“My head?” She raised a hand to the throb pounding just above her eye. Wet sticky warmth met her fingers.
“Don’t do that,” Luke gently admonished. “You’re bleeding.”
Emily held her fingers out in front of her, staring at the red stain with fascination. “What happened?” she asked again.
“We had a wreck.”
A wreck? “The horses?”
“We were in a car, Em.”
“Should I call an ambulance?” the unfamiliar voice asked.
An ambulance? Weren’t those expensive? “Nay.” She wanted to shake her head, but it hurt too badly. She struggled to sit up, then realized she was trembling with the effort. She closed her eyes against the wave of dizziness.
“Just lay back, Emily.”
“Luke?”
“I’m here.” His voice washed over her and made her feel safe once more. “The ambulance is on its way.”
Three hours later, Emily sat up in the emergency room hospital bed. A bandage covered the six stitches above her eye. Her right arm had been wrapped in an elastic bandage and placed in a sling. The nurse told her that once the swelling went down, tomorrow or the next day, the doctors would bind it in a cast to allow the break to heal.
Someone had brought her a cup full of pain pills, gave her a shot of antibiotics and something else. Now she waited.
They had told her that her parents had been notified. That she was in the medical clinic in Pryor, a neighboring town to Wells Landing. She hadn’t paid much attention to where they were headed as Luke had been driving, only that she was with him. Now she was far from home, injured, and waiting for the worst that was sure to come.
“Emily Jane?” Her mother rushed into the small room, tears shining in her pale blue eyes. “Oh, Emily.” Mamm wrapped her arms around her and gently pulled her close.
Tears stung her own eyes at the fear and concern she saw in her mudder. She hadn’t meant to worry anyone. Had never before done anything like this.
“I’m so sorry, Mamm,” she cried into her mother’s shoulder. The familiar scents of soap and lavender filled her senses as she held her mother close.
Mamm pulled away, but remained near. “It was a miracle for sure that you weren’t hurt any worse. Your father is getting your things so you can go.”
“And Luke?”
Mamm’s lips pressed together. “We can talk about Luke Lambright tomorrow.”
“But he’s allrecht?” Emily asked. No one would tell her how he was, or where he was, or even if he was hurt. Since he was not her family, they wouldn’t let him in to see her.
Her mother’s sharp gaze ran over her face and settled on her wrapped arm. “I’ll say he fared better than you.”
Emily sighed. She and Luke might’ve had their differences, they might even be growing in completely different directions, but she couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt.
There was a quick knock on the door, and her father was there with a plastic bag containing what remained of her things: her coat, her bloody prayer kapp, and her ruined apron. “Ach, we’re leaving now.”
He barely cast a glance her way, a sure sign that his patience was thin enough to read through.
“Kumm.” Mamm held out a steadying arm and helped Emily to her feet. She swayed slightly, the mild concussion mixed with medications to make her woozier than she’d been before.
On her mamm’s arm, she made her way out of the hospital and into the cool winter night. Her father stopped long enough to dig her coat from the plastic sack and hand it to her.
“Danki,” she murmured as Mamm slung it over her shoulders and steered her toward the waiting car.
Jay Tyler, their Englisch neighbor, sat behind the wheel, attesting that her parents had been distraught when they got the news. They hadn’t even called their regular Mennonite driver.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Emily,” Jay said as her father climbed into the front seat and her mamm helped her settle into the back.
“Danki,” Emily said. “Me too.”
Then without another word, Jay Tyler drove them back to the farm.
It looked like every lamp in the house was on when Jay turned into their drive forty-five minutes later. Forty-five completely silent, incredibly tense minutes later.
Her mother was typically silent. Helen Ebersol was more apt to observe than speak, a trait that made her words all the more powerful when she finally did utter them.
Her vatter was another matter entirely. Emily could almost feel the angry vibrations rolling off his skin. Or maybe that was a side effect of the pain medication.
No matter. As soon as she got home, all she wanted to do was crawl beneath the covers and sleep and sleep. Tomorrow or the next day she’d deal with her father, the broken arm, and all the disappointments she had suffered this evening.
Jay pulled his modest sedan to a stop and unlocked the doors. He left the car running as he went around and opened the door for her mother. Emily fumbled with the handle, but her father was there, opening it for her.
He reached out a steadying hand to help her from the car.
She wanted to say something to him, apologize for the trouble and worry she had caused, but her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. Before she could form the words, her mother was there taking her away as her father turned to pay Jay for his time.
“Emily!” Mary jumped up from her seat in the living room. The quilt wrapped around her shoulders flew out behind her as she rushed to Emily’s side. “It’s all my fault,” she moaned.
“Mary, I’m okay.” Emily tried to smooth back her sister’s hair but missed. “Oops.” She giggled, then burst into tears as the medication, the night, and everything else proved too much for her.
“Up to bed you go, Emily Jane.” Her mother steered her toward the stairs, but not before she saw those pale blue eyes pin Mary to the spot. “We’ll discuss this in the morning.”
Emily allowed her mother to escort her up the stairs and get her into bed. Her head had started to hurt again and her arm was beginning to ache. Mamm managed to get her into a nightgown, get her into bed and settled in, with her arm propped onto a pillow for support.
Emily couldn’t say it was easy. In fact, she had never hurt so bad as she did in that moment. The pain in her arm brought tears to her eyes, and her head throbbed with each beat of her heart.
Once she was back in the bed, Mamm disappeared with the assurance to return with more of the medication to help her sleep.
As promised, she returned moments later with a glass of water and a couple of pills for Emily to swallow.
Her eyes were already closed when her mother pressed a cool hand to her brow. “Ich liebe dich,” she murmured, then quietly moved away.
“I love you, too,” Emily whispered in return as her mother closed her bedroom door.
“Emily?”
How long had it been since she had gone to bed? The shadows in the room looked the same. Outside her window, the sky was still dark. Could have been a few minutes, or it could have been hours.
“Mary?”
Her sister was at her side in a moment, falling to her knees and burying her face in her shoulder. “I was so afraid when Jay came to the door.”
“Jay?” Emily murmured, wishing she could reach her sister, smooth back her hair, and assure her that everything was going to be all right.
“After the crash, Luke called his onkle. Joseph called Jay to come tell Vatter what had happened.”
“Don’t cry, Mary. I’m fine.”
“I’m so froh,” Mary sobbed. “So very glad.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“Jah,” she said.
Emily opened her eyes enough to see her sister drag the rocking chair over to the side of the bed. Mary sat down and grabbed Emily’s uninjured hand into her own and squeezed.
“I’ll be right here, the minute you wake up.”
Emily smiled and drifted off into a drug-enhanced sleep.
Luke stared at the ceiling and tried to get the images out of his mind. But no matter how hard he tried, all he could see when he closed his eyes was Emily’s face covered in blood, her arm sitting at a strange angle, and the fear in her eyes when they took her into the ambulance.
All he had wanted was a chance to show her how things could be between them when she finally realized there was a place for both of them in the Englisch world. Yet all he had succeeded in doing was hurting her more. He wouldn’t blame her if she never wanted to see him again. He was quite certain her father would be just fine with that.
There had never been a great admiration between him and Bishop Ebersol, but whatever there had been certainly hadn’t survived the night.
Luke rolled to his side and pounded out his frustrations onto his pillow. He might have been raised conservative, noncombative Amish, but right now he just wanted to hit something. Like it would do any good. The damage was done.
Thankfully he had only clipped the bumper of the truck. The large vehicle had sustained minimal damage. Even his friend’s car wasn’t completely totaled. But he had hit on Emily’s side of the car, resulting in a direct impact for her.
He flopped over once again, wishing he had a way to ease his spinning thoughts.
You have a way.
The words were spoken in his mind, clear as day.
You have a way.
Luke rolled out of bed and knelt at its side, propping his hands on the mattress as he prayed.
How long had it been since he had taken his concerns to the Lord?
Way too long, if the time it took to form his thoughts into prayers was any indication. He had so much to pray about. Emily, the wreck, his career, his job. So much had gone wrong lately. He so desperately needed for this to turn out right. He needed Emily like he needed air. He had messed up where she was concerned. And he was afraid that it would take more than prayer to get her back. It was going to take a miracle.
Two days later, Ben Smith, their regular Mennonite driver, drove Emily and Mamm to the clinic in Pryor. Thankfully the X-rays showed a clean fracture that wouldn’t require surgery. The swelling had gone down enough for them to place it in a cast and the pair plus Ben headed back to Wells Landing.