by Amy Lillard
Elam waited until she disappeared before joining Emily on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
He let out a quick chuckle. “You arrive at my house soaking wet and crying, and there’s not a story behind it?”
“Talking about it won’t change a thing,” she mumbled, then took a big gulp of coffee.
“You’re all right, though . . . right?” He dropped his voice so low it was barely louder than the crackle of the fire. Until that moment it hadn’t occurred to him that someone might have hurt her intentionally, physically. “No one . . . ?”
“Oh, nay.” She raised those midnight eyes to meet his, then quickly looked away. “It’s . . . complicated.”
Why had he expected her to say heartbreaking instead?
He took one of her hands into his own, loving the slim curve of her fingers. Such pretty hands.
She had given them so much. And yet she had taken from them, too. She definitely had stolen Elam’s heart before she’d broken it in two. That was what he needed to remember in times like these when she looked so irresistible in the firelight. When it would be so easy to lean in and steal a kiss or two. Or five.
His mamm had said it all.
God had a plan for them. But one thing was certain: His plan for Elam and His plan for Emily were two entirely different things.
He dropped her hand and stood, needing as much distance between them as possible.
“No one cries like this just because their buggy broke down.” He was pressuring her, jah, but something in him wouldn’t let it go.
She swiped at her tears. “Where is everyone?”
“Becky took Johanna to town to look for material for a new dress. The twins and Norma are at school.”
“I went to see Luke today.”
His heart dropped at the sound of the other man’s name.
“My vatter asked him to leave Wells Landing yesterday.”
“Why?” Elam asked, though he had a pretty good idea as to why the bishop wanted Luke Lambright out of the picture.
“Dat doesn’t feel he’s setting a gut enough example for the youth of the district.”
Elam couldn’t argue with that. “You asked him to stay.”
“And join the church, jah.”
So they could get married.
He released his pent-up breath not realizing until that moment he had been holding it. If Emily was crying, then . . .
“What did Luke say?”
She sniffed. “He doesn’t want to stay here. He doesn’t want to join the church.”
“He’s leaving again?” His words were thick, as his own emotions clogged his throat. He turned to the window, looking out at the falling rain.
How he wished they could go back in time. Maybe he could do things differently to get Emily to change her mind about him. See him in a new light and forget all about Luke Lambright. But it was too late for that.
“I’ve just made so many mistakes. I thought it would all work out. But it didn’t. It just didn’t.”
Elam nodded. He understood perfectly.
Outside his father closed the barn door and dashed back to the house, jumping over mud puddles much in the same way Johanna and Norma did.
Dat opened the front door, shaking off the rain and hanging his hat on the peg just inside. “Clover’s all taken care of.”
“Danki,” Emily said.
“You want some more coffee?” Elam asked.
“That would be gut.”
“Can I have a cup, too?” James asked. He crossed the room to the rolltop desk, opening it and pulling out a deck of cards. “Will you play with me?” he asked Emily. “I’ve missed playing with you.” He made a face at Elam. “Nobody here likes to play as much as I do.”
“I’d like that.” Emily’s smile trembled on her lips, though she managed to keep any new tears at bay.
Elam was grateful for that. He didn’t think he could take many more of those before he pulled her into his arms and never let her go.
His dat plopped down into the chair opposite Emily and started shuffling the cards. “Will you teach me how to play poker?” His eyes twinkled.
Emily had the presence to look shocked. “I’m sure I don’t know how to play such a wicked game as that.”
Dat smiled, as Elam turned to fetch their coffee. “Rummy, it is.”
James barely waited until his son was out of the room before he spoke. “He’s not been the same since you two broke up.”
Emily tried to smile. Neither of them had been.
“He’s been cranky and moping around the house. You have to do something, Emily.” He started to deal the cards for their game.
“There’s nothing I can do, James. He broke up with me.”
He shook his head and set up the “draw” and “discard” piles on the coffee table. “Why would he do something so stupid?”
“I guess you could say I started it.”
“I don’t understand.” He frowned and picked up his cards.
“I did something pretty stupid first.”
“Everybody does stupid stuff from time to time. That’s no reason to break up.”
“I guess he feels differently.” She swallowed back her tears. So many mistakes. So many stupid mistakes on top of bad choices. “It’s not always that easy, James.”
James pouted. “It should be.” He stopped when Elam came back into the room carrying their coffees.
“I’m going to the barn to check on Sally Ann,” he said. “I’ll take you home when the rain stops.”
“Okay.” She watched as he made his way to the front door and prepared to go outside.
“Sally Ann is our mule,” James explained. “Something got a’hold of her leg the other day. Elam’s been doctoring it.”
“Huh?” Emily said.
James shot her a knowing look. Despite the innocence in his expression, Emily could see the intelligence underlying lighting his eyes. “You miss him as much as he misses you.”
“It’s not that simple, James,” she said again. “I wish it was. I hurt him.”
“You both are making it way too complicated.” James shook his head. “He loves you, you know.”
“Love isn’t always enough,” Emily replied, ignoring the quick beat of her heart at the thought of Elam loving her. He had said he did, but she had stomped on his feelings too many times to gain back his love now.
“What if it is?” James asked. “What if all you need to do is talk to him? Hmm? What then? How will you know until you ask?” He spread his cards on the board. “Rummy,” he called.
One thing was certain, whether Elam loved her or not. If she was going to have a prayer of winning even one game against his dat, she was going to have to pay better attention.
But how could she when thoughts of a second chance with Elam swam around inside her mind? Was love enough? Could their feelings for each other bridge the chasm that had yawned between them? Or was it simply too late?
By midafternoon the rain had stopped. The girls weren’t home yet. After countless games of Rummy, Go Fish, and War, Emily had decided that James might just have a point. How could she not give them both a chance? She had tried to tell Elam that she loved him the night he broke up with her, but the words got lost somewhere between her conservative upbringing and her pride.
But she would forever be kicking herself if she didn’t put her heart out there and tell Elam how she felt.
He was silent as he drove down the lane from his house. Clover followed behind the buggy and slowed their journey. Emily would have plenty of time to talk to him, if only she could find her courage.
Sucking in a deep breath, she laid her hand on his arm.
He flinched as if she burned him.
“Elam?” she asked.
“Hmmm?” He didn’t take his eyes from the road, as if leading the horse required all of his attention.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure, jah.�
� But once again he refused to look at her.
“Nay, I mean talk. Really talk.”
He tensed, then rolled his big shoulders, bumping against her as they ambled along. “Do I need to pull over for this?”
She shook her head. “When we get to the house we could maybe sit in the barn for a while.” The ground was too wet and the air too damp and cold to stay out in it longer than absolutely necessary.
“The barn,” he repeated. “Jah, okay.”
Emily sighed and tried to smile, but she was more nervous now than she’d ever been. It was nerve-racking enough to sit beside him and think about talking with him later and another matter altogether to sit next to him knowing they would be talking in the very near future.
Thankfully she had stressed over the asking long enough that they were almost at her house when he agreed. She only had fifteen or so minutes to sit next to him and twist her hands together before they pulled into the driveway.
Elam had no sooner set the brake than Mamm flew out of the house. She had a dish towel thrown over one shoulder and a concerned light shining in her eyes.
“Emily, praise be, you’re allrecht. Dan Troyer called to say he saw your buggy on the side of the road with no horse or driver. I couldn’t imagine what had happened to you.” She wrapped Emily into a quick hug. “I’ve been worried sick and praying nonstop.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you.” She returned her mother’s embrace. “I guess Dan Troyer told you about the wheel?”
“Jah, your father took Mary and Susannah to go look at it, and I promised to stay here until you got home.” She turned to Elam. “Thank you, Elam Riehl, for bringing my Emily back home.”
He gave her a quick nod. “I’ll take Clover into the barn and get her settled.” He unhitched the horse and led her away.
Emily disentangled herself from her mother’s clingy arms. Normally Mamm was as calm and cool as they come, but with all the recent accidents and upheavals, her nerves seemed a bit rattled. “It’s okay, Mamm. I’m fine. Truly.”
Mamm gave her one last squeeze and let her go. “Come on in the house. I’ll make some kaffi.”
But Emily shook her head. “I need to go talk to Elam.”
“Oh. Oh.” Mamm gave a sage nod. “Okay then.” She started back toward the house and out of the cold. “Just don’t take too long, okay?”
Emily smiled. “I won’t.”
Elam was sitting on a bale of hay just inside the door when she walked into the barn. It was almost the exact spot where Luke had been sitting just two short nights ago. Had it not even been forty-eight hours since her vatter had told Luke to leave? It seemed as if a lifetime had passed since then.
Ever the gentleman, Elam stood when he saw her, tossing away the random pieces of hay he held and dusting off his pants. “Emily.”
Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips and gave her hope. More than anything she wanted to save whatever she could between them.
“I wanted to talk to you,” she stuttered. Where were all the words she needed to tell him that she loved him?
“Jah, you said that much already.” He settled himself back down, crossed his arms over his chest, and eyed her suspiciously. Guarded. That was the best way to describe his demeanor. Not that she could blame him. They had been through too much. Yet she longed to wipe away the look of distrust and replace it with one of love and joy.
“I love you.”
He blinked those green eyes. “What?”
Gut himmel! Could she find the courage to say it again? “I love you.”
He rose from his seat on the hay bale and started for the door. “Good-bye, Emily.”
She rushed after him, stopping him with a hand on his back before he could set one foot out into the new rain.
The muscles under her fingers bunched and jerked.
He shrugged her hand away and turned around to face her. “You don’t love me.”
His words cut her to the bone. “But I do,” she protested.
“Nay.” He sighed and propped his hands onto his hips. “You have always loved Luke Lambright. Now he’s gone for good, and I’m all that’s left.” He shook his head. “I thought I could compete with him. I had big hopes that one day you would come to care for me the way you do for him. I thought that was God’s will for us.”
Tears slid down her cheeks and dropped off the edge of her jaw.
“But I can’t be second. I love you too much for that.”
“You’re not second.” Her voice hitched on a sob. She wanted to reach out to him, show him that she loved him. He said he loved her. Surely there was still a chance for them. “I’ve made so many mistakes,” she said. “But this isn’t one of them.”
“It’s over, Emily. Luke’s gone, and I’m here, but I won’t be a poor substitute for what you really want.”
“You’re what I want,” she cried. “I love you.”
“You’ll never know how much I wish I could believe that.”
And then he was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sissy Hardin pressed her foot to the brake as she came around the tight corner. She was a city girl, born and raised, and these winding roads in the backwoods of Amish country were more than she had planned for. No wonder country folks took so long to get anywhere. They drove miles out of the way just in curves.
Beside her in the passenger seat her cell phone chirped, alerting her to a new message, but she ignored it. She had made the pledge to not text and drive, and there was no way she was chancing it on these unfamiliar roads. It was one of her friends, anyway, and that could definitely wait. It couldn’t be her father. He always picked up the phone and called.
She slowed even more as she neared the intersection. Before her was a stop sign that said WHOA and a telephone pole with a hand-painted sign announcing local honey and brown eggs. That was her turn.
She steered her car down the tiny dirt lane and flipped the heater up a little higher. She’d heard that it was colder in the country than in the city, and this trip just proved it.
If the directions the woman at the bakery had given her were correct, the third house on the left belonged to Luke Lambright. Or rather, it belonged to Joseph Lambright, Luke’s uncle.
She passed the first drive and realized the houses were farther back from the road than she’d expected and nearly miles apart. But she was diligent. She had to find Luke and set things right.
Her phone chimed again, and she resisted the urge to pick it up. No distractions or she’d miss the house altogether.
She passed the second drive and down this one she could see the white paint of the house through the trees in the yard. Off to one side was a field of bright green. Who knew things grew in the wintertime?
Drive number three was so narrow she almost missed it entirely. As it was, she jerked her car into the dirt lane and winced as the bottom of her car scraped the frozen ground. She pressed her foot back on the brake and held it there as she eased along the hard-packed lane.
She didn’t have far to drive before she saw the house. It seemed typical of the farmhouses in the area. The two-story structure was painted white and rambled in all different directions. The porch stretching across the front was dotted with a mix of lawn chairs and wooden rockers. A man sat in one of the chairs as if waiting for her to arrive.
He was Amish. Or at least she thought he was. He wore a plain black coat, over a blue shirt and black pants. His black hat had a wide brim and hid most of his face from her view. The bottom half was shaved smooth. Which seemed weird. Didn’t Amish men have beards?
She sure hoped she was in the right place. And if luck was on her side, he was Joseph Lambright, Luke’s uncle.
She pulled her car to a stop and got out. As she tugged on the tail of her shirt and the arms of her winter coat, the man stood.
“Hi,” she called. She waved to the man as she picked her way across the yard. She hadn’t exactly worn the right shoes for walking across a country lawn.
&
nbsp; “Goedemiddag,” he said in return. She had no idea what that meant, but he seemed harmless enough as he shuffled down the steps. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Luke Lambright.”
“Jah?” He tipped his hat back a bit and Sissy could finally see his eyes. They were stormy gray, but somehow they brought to mind Luke and gave her hope she was at the right house.
“My name is Sissy Hardin. My daddy owns a bunch of fried chicken restaurants.”
He studied her as she spoke, but didn’t interrupt. She took that as a sign to continue.
“Luke came to Daddy wanting him as a sponsor for a race car. But things sort of fell through.” Okay, so that wasn’t exactly what happened, but she was here to make things right and that was the most important thing, wasn’t it?
She shifted from one foot to the other, wondering for a second how much this man knew.
“Luke is not here.”
She didn’t try to hide her disappointment. She had driven a long way to find him. “Will he be home soon?”
The man shook his head. “Nay. He’s gone for good this time, I s’pose.”
“For good? But where did he go?”
“Back to the Englisch.”
Her eyes widened. “He went to England?”
The man laughed. “That’s what you are. Englisch.”
O-kay. “So he’s here?” She didn’t mean to play dumb, but she was seriously having trouble understanding him. And she so needed to make up for the mistakes she had made concerning Luke.
“He went to catch the bus back to Arkansas.”
She was too late.
The man looked to the sky and back to her. “If you hurry you just might catch him.”
She didn’t know what he saw in the sky, but she was hopeful.
“He’s in town then?”
“Jah.”
“Thank you,” she said, mincing back across the sparsely covered ground.
“Anytime,” the man said. “Anytime.”
Luke stretched his legs out in front of him and tried to look bored. He didn’t want anyone to think that he was excited or hurt or any of the number of emotions racing through him. He hadn’t wanted to leave Wells Landing. And he sure hadn’t wanted things to end between him and Emily like they had.