by Amy Lillard
But it was too late for apologies. Too late to go back. Too late to wish for things to be different.
He stood and walked to the large plate glass window that looked out over the road. His ruse was not fooling anyone, not even him.
A big part of him, the part that was a born dreamer, was glad to be going back to Arkansas. But a huge chunk of his heart would always be in Wells Landing with Emily. He had loved her too long to stop now. Maybe one day . . .
A shiny red car eased down the road as if the driver wasn’t sure where they were going. As Luke watched, the car stopped, hung a quick turn, and disappeared into the side parking lot.
There was something vaguely familiar about the car, but he wasn’t sure why. He had been obsessed with cars for years now. Most probably the sleek lines and shimmering paint were what drew him in like a fly to honey.
“Luke?”
He turned to find Sissy Hardin standing near the door that led outside. Her blond hair billowed around her shoulders like a cloud of spun gold, her cheeks pink from the cold.
“What are you doing here?” He turned away from her. As nice as she was to look at, she had ruined everything for him. A fact he wasn’t forgetting anytime soon.
“Your uncle told me you were here.”
“In Oklahoma,” he clarified.
She started toward him, the keys in her hand clinking together as she came nearer. “Listen. I know you’re mad at me, and you have every right to be. But I came to make amends.”
“Amends?”
She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. “Here.” She thrust it toward him.
He took it, staring at her and the thick white envelope in turn. “What is it?”
“Five hundred dollars.”
“Five hundred—” He thumbed open the envelope to stare at the bills inside. “Why are you giving me this?”
She shoved her hands into her coat pockets and shrugged. “Because my father would have given you that and more if I hadn’t of—” She stopped and he didn’t miss the fact that she couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—well, the truth is I like you. A lot. I had seen you around the track, I just wanted to get to know you better. And then . . .” She shook her head. “I felt just awful.”
“Jah?”
“I know you needed that money. The other guys told me what happened with the wreck and . . . so I wanted you to have it.”
“Thank you.” He was humbled. What else was he supposed to say? In light of her apology, what else could he do but forgive her? The ability to forgive was one part of his Amish upbringing he hoped he never lost.
“I talked to my daddy and explained what happened.” She shrugged again. “I would have been here sooner, but he grounded me.” She made a face. “Anyway, he’s agreed to talk to you some more about a sponsorship. If you’re still interested.”
“Are you serious?” Hope surged inside him—hope for the dreamer, hope for the future.
“Yeah. He likes the way you drive.”
“Yeah?” He tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. Gus Hardin liked the way he drove.
“Me, too,” she added.
“That’s awesome.” He slapped the envelope containing the money against his leg, loving the whack it made.
“There’s just one more thing,” Sissy said. “Can you forgive me for what I did? I am terribly sorry.”
Luke smiled. She was just so pretty, how could a guy not forgive her? Still, he couldn’t make it too easy for her. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Give me a ride back to Van Buren?”
She smiled, and the world seemed a bit brighter. “You got it.”
Elam pulled his buggy back into the driveway at his house and just sat there for a moment. He’d turned the battery-operated heater off long ago, its hum nearly driving him to distraction.
Walking away from Emily a second time was the hardest thing he had ever done. Even harder than the first time.
He rubbed his eyes with one hand. If only he could believe her when she said she loved him. That was all he ever wanted. But he wasn’t willing to settle. He knew plenty of men who would, even more who had. But he couldn’t do it. He was an “all or nothing” sort of man.
With a sigh, he got out of the buggy and unhitched the horse. With heavy footsteps and an even heavier heart, he made his way to the barn.
He led the horse to his stall and grabbed the brush for a quick rubdown, his thoughts still whirling around inside his head like a swarm of angry hornets. He couldn’t catch any one, so he let them be, preferring instead to ignore them as he completed his task. Mindless. That was the best way to go. At least until he was ready to look at the situation with clear eyes. At the rate he was going, that would be never.
“Elam?”
His father’s voice pulled him out of his own misery. “Back here,” he called.
Footsteps shuffled in the hay, and then his father was there, a frown on his brow. “I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Dat said.
“Why not?” Elam finished the brushing and filled the horse’s oat trough.
“Thought you might stay and spend a little time with Emily.”
He knew his father well enough to know when the man was digging. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you and Emily and love,” his dat said.
Elam sighed when he wanted to howl in frustration. “Emily and I broke up,” he said as gently as he could manage. Still his voice was rough and rusty.
“But you are going to get back together again, jah?”
“Nay.”
“But she told me she loved you.” His vatter’s frown deepened until his entire face was involved.
“That seems to be the rumor.”
“And you love her,” Dat prodded.
“Is this conversation going somewhere?” This whole love thing was making him snippy.
“Did she or did she not tell you that she loves you?”
Elam really didn’t want to talk about it, but since his head injury his father seemed more determined than ever. He was like a bulldog who latched on to something and wouldn’t let go. Dat wouldn’t let this subject drop until he had all his questions answered.
“She told me she loved me.” A fist squeezed his heart as he spoke. How long had he wanted to hear those very words from her? How long had he waited for her to realize that he would do anything and everything he could to make her happy?
The Amish believed that everything that happened was a part of God’s will. Elam just didn’t understand why God thought he needed a broken heart.
“Then what’s the problem?” his dat asked.
“She loves Luke more.”
His father propped his hands on his hips. “What gave you that fool idea?”
“She’s always loved Luke.”
Dat shook his head. “That doesn’t mean she loves him more.”
But it did.
Didn’t it?
“That maedel loves you,” his vatter continued. “Now what are you going to do about it?”
“There’s nothing to do.”
Dat shook his head. “You mean you are just going to let her go?”
Elam shrugged, tired of the conversation. He didn’t want to forget about Emily nor could he accept her and what little she had to offer him. “Dat, you don’t understand.”
Dat took a step closer, hands on his hips as his amiable demeanor vanished. “Now, son, I know I’m not as smart as I used to be. But I’m sharp enough to know when a gut thing is in front of my face. And Emily Ebersol is a gut thing.”
Elam took a step back, thoroughly chastised. “I—”
“‘Purple is as purple does,’” Dat quoted.
Elam sighed. “I don’t even know what that means.” More now than ever, he wanted to escape to the house and forget today ever happened.
His dat grinned. “I don’t either. But I
think it means that you should be true to yourself. Be the person you are and the one that you want to be. Once you do that, it’ll come to you.”
“What will come?”
Dat held his hands out, palms up. “Whatever it is that you want.”
Could it be that simple?
His dat watched him closely, then shook his head and started back to the house. “Let me know when you come to your senses.”
“Pass the potatoes,” Miriam requested.
The evening milking had been completed, and the product stored. Still Elam was no closer to an answer than he had been earlier.
“Elam. Elam.”
“Jah?” He shook himself around. “Did you say something?” He looked to each of his sisters.
“I asked for the potatoes.” Miriam nodded toward the bowl that sat in front of him.
He passed it to her as Mamm spoke. “You’re not eating much tonight.”
“Elam’s in love.” His dat turned twinkling eyes on him. “Jah, Elam?”
“We all know that,” Johanna said. She was wise beyond her years. Or were his feelings that transparent?
“Did you know that Emily loves him, too?” Dat asked.
“Dat,” Elam dropped his voice, hoping it would serve as a warning. He wasn’t accustomed to chastising his vatter, but he would if given no other choice.
Ruthie made a face. “Of course.”
“What about what she told him today, and he said . . . what is it the Englisch say? ‘Too bad so sad’?”
A chorus of “whats?” flew around the table.
“Why would you do that?”
“I hope she stomped on your foot.”
“That’s terrible.”
Along with a few other phrases he couldn’t make out.
“Elam,” Mamm said. “Why would you do something like that?”
“Danki, Dat,” Elam said, shooting his father a wilting look.
His vatter sat back, seemingly satisfied with the trouble he had caused.
“She loves Luke Lambright,” Elam explained. “You all know that as well as I do.”
“But Luke is gone,” Becky said. “Jonah told Aaron and he told Billy and—”
“It is a sin to gossip, Becky Ann,” Mamm said with a stern look.
Becky wilted.
“Just because he’s left Wells Landing doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him any longer,” Elam said. He had to put a stop to this and quickly.
“I think you should go after her.” Norma licked the applesauce off her spoon. Then pointed it at him. “She’s gut for you.”
Elam tried not to laugh. The situation was far from humorous, but tiny Norma’s serious expression was his undoing.
“What’s so funny?” Johanna took another bite of her applesauce and stared at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses.
Elam cleared his throat. “I think this conversation has gone on long enough.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Ruthie jumped up from the table and raced to the door to get his hat and coat. “You should get over there immediately and get this straightened out.” She thrust the items toward him. “Now would be gut, jah?”
He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer for patience. Had his entire family lost their minds? “I am not going over there this time a’night.”
“Why not?” Dat asked.
Another chorus of similar sentiments went up around the table, but Elam had had enough. “I’ll be in the barn if anyone needs me.” He stood and started for the door. But he stopped before he got there, turning around and pinning each of his family members with a stern stare. “For something important.”
But no one in the household was willing to let things go.
Couldn’t they see it was hard enough for him to put one foot in front of the other each day without their silly notions that he and Emily belonged together?
Yet they were relentless, taking every opportunity to slip Emily’s name into the conversation. Or mention the color purple. Or any number of references to make him recall the sweet time when he thought things might be different for him and Emily.
Thankfully the church-going Sunday brought some relief. At least no one talked to him about Emily during the three-hour service. Even better, she sat behind him so he didn’t have to keep his gaze off the back of her head.
Pathetic. He was simply pathetic where she was concerned. But time was a healer. Maybe in a year or two he would be able to hear her name and not want to fall at her feet and beg for crumbs.
After the final prayer, the women prepared the tables and got the food ready to serve. Outside the barn, it began to snow. The sky had been threatening all morning, and the temperature dropped until the white flakes started falling. The children oohed and aahed and begged their parents to let them go outside and play. Yet all Elam could think about was the day in the snow with Emily. Maybe after five years everything, including the weather, wouldn’t bring her to mind.
His father grabbed his plate and shot Elam a pointed look. “I’m going to find Emily.”
Elam sighed. “Dat, I thought we had already covered this. The men and the women do not eat together. You can talk to her after the meal.”
His vatter raised his chin to that defiant angle Elam was coming to know all too well. “I want to eat with Emily.” He turned on his heel and disappeared into the milling church members before Elam could stop him.
As he saw it, he had two choices. He could follow after his dat and risk running into Emily—which was probably Dat’s plan from the beginning. Or he could let his father alone to do as he pleased. It wasn’t like Elam could make his father behave.
That was the hardest part of his father’s injury. A two-hundred-pound man-child was hard to control. With another sigh, he filled his own plate and found a quiet corner to eat his middawk alone.
“I want to eat with you today.”
Emily whirled around to find James standing directly behind her. She pressed one hand to her beating heart. She had been on edge all day just waiting for the inevitable confrontation with Elam.
She had prayed to avoid it, but she had to prepare for it all the same.
All during the service, she had stared at the back of his head, nearly willing him to turn around and acknowledge she was there. She knew he wouldn’t, but this dancing around each other was about to drive her batty. If she kept this up she’d have to move to a different church district to keep from having to see Elam every other week. And to keep her sanity.
“James, we talked about this. Men and women are supposed to eat separately.”
“You sound like Elam.” He made a face. “I see no reason why we shouldn’t be allowed to eat together. You ate with me once before. Besides”—he lowered his voice for only her to hear—“I want to talk to you about something.” He graced her with one of his innocent smiles. How could she say no?
She had missed him almost as much as she missed Elam. Almost. James and the rest of the Riehls had become so very important to her. It was a shame that she couldn’t stand to go over to help them now that she and Elam were no longer courting. But she couldn’t risk running in to him. It would be easier if he worked in a factory or even at a restaurant or furniture store. But dairy farmers were home all day long.
“Please?” James turned his green eyes to hers, the mischievous light almost drowned out by the sincerity she saw there.
“Jah, fine,” she said with a sigh.
“Goodie.”
She and James found a place out of the way and not as visible to most of the district. She settled down on a milking stool while James sat cross-legged in the hay.
“I’ve missed you coming by the house.” James took too large a bite of his peanut butter sandwich.
Emily suppressed a laugh at the face he made.
“Yuck,” he said, swallowing the bite nearly whole. “It’s the creamy kind.”
“What’s wrong with creamy peanut butter?”
“It’s not crunchy.” James wiped o
ff his tongue with his napkin, bringing laughter to Emily’s lips once more. She had been with him less than fifteen minutes and already she had laughed more than she had all week.
“So will you come by again?” His question was so innocent, it somehow seemed anything but.
Emily put the cracker she had been eating back on her plate. “Oh, James. I don’t know if that’s such a gut idea.”
“It was a gut idea before.”
“Jah, well, that was . . . before.”
They sat in silence for a moment. He ate around his sandwich while she pushed the food on her plate in circles.
“He still loves you, you know.”
Emily shook her head. “I hurt him.”
“If he didn’t love you, you wouldn’t have the power to cause him pain.”
Emily dropped her hand into her lap and stared at James. What happened to the childlike man who wanted everything purple? She could still see him lurking in those green eyes of his, but somehow they had taken on an edge of wisdom. Now James was a dangerous combination of a child who wasn’t afraid to speak and a man who knew too much. “You know what I think? I think you use your injury to your favor. That way you always get what you want.”
“Does that mean you’ll come by the house for a visit?” He shot her a sly grin.
“James.”
“What if I promise he won’t be there?”
“How can you promise that?”
He shrugged. “You leave that up to me.”
“I don’t know.”
“Please,” he said. “We all miss you so much.”
Emily’s resolve started to crumble. “Why don’t you come to my house?”
James shook his head as his lower lip protruded into an all-out pout. “That won’t be the same.”
“Jah, fine, okay.” She hardly believed she had agreed to that.
“That’s brechdich.” He grinned.
She wasn’t sure exactly what was so magnificent about it, but his smile was worth it all.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I still think this is a bad idea.” Emily hopped down from the buggy and stared at Elam’s house. Why had she agreed to this?