The Gift of Twins

by Gabrielle Meyer

  He waited for a few minutes before she returned all bundled up.

  With a quick word to Mrs. Janner about where she was going, Emmy preceded Ben out of the house and toward the sleigh.

  He helped her inside and tucked the buffalo robe around her skirts, and then he lifted the reins and away they went over the soft snow.

  * * *

  Emmy hadn’t expected to see Ben that afternoon, especially in his Sunday best clothing. She suspected that if he had made it home from Owatonna, she would see him the next day at church. When Mrs. Janner told her she had a visitor, she had thought Adam had returned, but when she saw it was Ben, her heart had sped up and pleasure had coiled through her stomach.

  But the look on his face had made the pleasure disappear. She knew things had not gone well in Owatonna and she wanted nothing more than to comfort him—yet, she couldn’t trust herself where he was concerned.

  As they sped across the open prairie, a high bluff to their right and the frozen ribbon of the Mississippi to their left, the wind numbed her cheeks and nose, but felt surprisingly refreshing.

  “What happened in Owatonna?” She needed to know, to prepare her mind and heart for what was to come.

  He shook his head, his disappointment weighing down his shoulders. “Malachi Trask lives under the name Oscar Webb. He has a wife and two children, one on the way. They live in a sod house on the open prairie—and he’s not well.” He continued to tell her about finding Malachi in a saloon and the trouble he had with his moods swinging from one extreme to the other. “He needs help, but I don’t know how to help him. I know he can be well again, but I don’t know if he will.”

  Emmy sensed that Ben’s unhappiness was from the outcome of the visit as well as the state of Malachi’s health. Ben’s heart was so good and so pure, she knew he wanted what was best for all of them. He understood the suffering of people far better than Emmy ever could, and he always gave people the benefit of the doubt, believing in them and the power of God’s love to bring healing. It was something she had come to admire about him.

  There were several things he told Emmy about his trip. He spoke about the worries and concerns he had for the boys’ future and for the safety and well-being of the new Mrs. Trask and her children. He told Emmy the little girl had eyes just like Levi’s and she had clearly left an impression on him. Emmy could tell he needed to unburden his heart with someone who loved the boys as much as he did.

  “He’s coming to get them on Christmas Eve,” Ben said at last. “I asked if they could stay for the pageant, and thankfully he agreed.”

  Christmas Eve? How could she say goodbye to them in two weeks? Tears stung the back of her eyes and she had to wipe one away before it fell down her cheek. “This will be a hard Christmas.”

  Ben pulled back on the reins, forcing Ginger to come to a stop. The sunshine was bright and Emmy had to squint to look at Ben. He was watching her, his brown eyes soft and full of both joy and sorrow. “Will you come and spend the day before Christmas Eve with us? We will have a Christmas party for the boys after the pageant. We can give them their gifts, play all our favorite games and have Mrs. Carver’s mashed potatoes one last time.”

  The thought of being back with Ben and the boys filled Emmy with joy. It had been hard to get used to the Janner family. They were a cold, distant group, more work than play. In the evenings, they sat in their parlor, silently, as each did their own thing. Mr. Janner read the newspaper, Mrs. Janner knitted and the Janner boys read. There was no companionship to be had, so Emmy spent most of her time alone in her room. When she had first come to Little Falls, that’s all she had wanted—but after spending time in Ben’s home, she craved the warmth and affection of a family.

  “I will be there.”

  They sat close in the open sleigh and Emmy felt warmer just knowing he was near. He looked at her now, his handsome features in full light. She could gaze upon him for hours and still not tire of admiring his form. He was all things masculine, yet his gentle countenance and tender care made him the most desirable man she’d ever met. The feelings stirring within her made her self-doubt all the promises she’d made to herself about guarding her heart.

  “Emmy,” he whispered her name as he looked deep into her eyes.

  She couldn’t have moved, even if she had tried. She felt rooted and frozen in place—yet, despite the cold, she didn’t feel the chill. Warmth coursed through her from head to foot and she felt herself leaning toward him, wanting to draw more heat from his nearness.

  He slipped off his mitten and gently lifted his hand to place on her cheek.

  She closed her eyes, loving the feel of his warm skin against her cool face. Tilting her cheek toward his hand, she nestled into his touch, not caring about anyone or anything in this lovely moment.

  His lips rested upon hers in the next heartbeat and she pressed into his kiss. She wanted this kiss, needed it when all else felt lost and out of control.

  Ben’s other hand came up and rested on her opposite cheek. She lifted her fingers and touched his arm, half wanting to pull away—half wanting to tug him closer. His kiss was soft and it took her breath away. It filled her with the most delightful feeling she’d ever known—even more so than William’s kisses.

  William.

  Searing agony sliced through Emmy’s haze and she pulled back from Ben, confused and ashamed that she had let him kiss her—and invited him to prolong. Her heart was in turmoil as she looked into his dear face. She had fallen in love with Ben Lahaye—deeply and truly—yet her greatest fear was being realized.

  Panic welled up and her breathing became shallow. The thought of losing Ben was terrifying to her, and she had not even made the ultimate promise to love and cherish him for life. She had simply fallen in love. But it was impossible. She couldn’t love him. Couldn’t risk the real possibility that he would be pulled from her in an instant, just as William had been.

  He lifted his hand again, but she pulled back. “I can’t, Ben.”

  “Em.” He took her hand. “I—”

  “Please don’t say another word,” she begged. “No matter what you say, I won’t return the sentiment. I won’t make any promises. I refuse to take a risk again.” She spoke the words as if she believed them, and she hoped she was convincing, because even as she said what must be said, she didn’t think she had the strength to follow through. If he would but kiss her one more time, or tell her the words her heart longed to hear, she would be lost to him forever.

  She must keep him quiet.

  He finally spoke, his voice low, not meeting her gaze. “Is it because of Adam?”

  Adam? She frowned. Why would he think it was because of Adam?

  “Do you love him?” he asked.

  Love Adam? She looked at Ben and found him staring ahead.

  “I’m fond of Adam,” she admitted.

  He gave a quick nod and then lifted the reins, prompting Ginger to start up again.

  As they drove, she wanted to beg him to understand. She didn’t want Ben to think she cared for Adam, but it seemed easier that way. If he suspected her true feelings, he might push her and she didn’t know how long she could refrain. They drove back to the Janners’ place in complete silence.

  The cold overtook her toes, and then her feet, and then her legs. Eventually, her torso was frozen and then it spread to her fingers and up to her scalp. She was cold and numb all over, but the air had nothing to do with the chill she endured sitting next to Ben, moments after rejecting the most precious thing he had to offer—his heart.

  He stopped in front of the Janners’ and Emmy wanted to groan when she saw Adam’s sleigh. No doubt he had come to pay another call and was waiting for her return.

  Ben saw it, too. She could tell by the way his shoulders stiffened and he lifted his chin.

  After he helped her from the
sleigh and walked her to the door, he stepped back and nodded. He didn’t seem angry or even frustrated, but the look of rejection on his face was worse than if he had railed at her.

  “Goodbye, Emmy.”

  She wished she could give him her heart. “Ben, you deserve so much more than—”

  “Please don’t.” He shook his head.

  Shame and embarrassment overtook her and she nodded. “Goodbye.”

  He walked back to the sleigh and picked up the reins without looking back.

  And in that moment, Emmy felt as dark as she did when she learned William had died.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Ben pulled the sleigh into the barn, he realized he had seen nothing and no one all the way home from the Janners’ place. Nothing had ever felt like Emmy’s rejection. Not Charlotte’s, not Elizabeth’s and not even his father’s. He’d been a fool to fall in love with her, when he knew all along that she’d fall for someone else, just like Charlotte and Elizabeth had.

  Yet, this time it was different. When Charlotte rejected Ben, he knew she would be better off with Abram. When Elizabeth turned Ben down, he knew Jude was right for her. But now? In the depths of Ben’s being, he knew Adam Russell was not right for Emmy. He couldn’t put a finger on why, though. Russell could provide Emmy with a nice life, a good home and a proper name. He was a Christian, he was kind and he seemed utterly devoted to her. But Emmy needed more.

  “There you are.” Phillippe entered the barn and began to unharness Ginger. His movements were smooth and practiced as he spoke to the horse.

  Ben hadn’t moved from his spot in the sleigh. If he was tired before, now he was bone-weary. He didn’t think he had the strength to walk into the house.

  Phillippe worked silently, letting Ben wallow in his misery.

  After a few minutes, Phillippe spoke. “You never asked me why I left you.”

  Ben frowned and looked at his father. “What?”

  “You made assumptions, but you never asked.”

  It was the last thing Ben wanted to talk about today. He pulled himself out of the sleigh and grabbed the currycomb, just wanting to be done with Ginger and inside the house, away from his father.

  Yet, as they worked, Ben couldn’t deny the curiosity that picked at his conscience. Was there a reason his father left that he wasn’t aware of? His mother had died, his father was embarrassed and ashamed of having an illegitimate Indian son, and it had been easier to let someone else deal with Ben. Right?

  He stopped brushing Ginger and looked at his father. “Why did you leave me?”

  Phillippe hung the harness on the peg and turned to face Ben, the years suddenly catching up to him as his shoulders slouched. “I loved you very much.” He stopped and swallowed several times before continuing. “When I brought you to the mission, I was heartbroken. Not only for the loss of your mother, but knowing I had to make the hardest sacrifice of my life and leave you, too.”

  “Sacrifice?” The word tasted of bitterness and bile. “How was abandoning your child a sacrifice? You were probably happy to be rid of me and the reminder of your transgressions.”

  The words penetrated his father’s countenance and he seemed to lose all strength as he slowly sat on a clean pile of hay, his head hanging low.

  Ben stood frozen in place, his heart beating hard and his pulse ticking in his wrists. The large man before him had been reduced to a pile of brokenness and sorrow. Compassion welled up in Ben’s heart and he walked across the barn and sat beside his father, overcome by the depth of pain he felt.

  Ben finally saw his father as he truly was. A man who had carried his sins with him like a sack of rocks, weighing down every moment, whether good or bad, with the knowledge of his mistakes.

  He reached out and placed his arm around Phillipe’s shoulders, trying to comfort one of God’s children who was suffering. It’s what he would have done with anyone else in the world—so why was it so hard to do with his own father?

  “I knew I was doing the right thing,” Phillippe managed to say through the emotion. “Even though it was the hard thing. I had to leave you in the interior and return to Montreal knowing I had betrayed you and your mother. Every day since then, when the guilt and shame threaten to overwhelm me, I’ve reminded myself it was for your own good.”

  Ben stared at him with incredulity. “How could being abandoned be for my own good?”

  Phillipe finally looked at him. “If I would have brought you to Montreal, you would have been shunned and ridiculed your whole life. My wife is a cold, heartless woman. Our marriage had been arranged and we never loved each other. She didn’t care because she had status and wealth and all the things her cold heart desired.” He paused and took a steadying breath. “That’s why it was so easy to fall in love with your mother. She was good and brave and all the things Juliette is not.”

  Ben pulled his arm away from his father, needing a little space to absorb the things he was saying.

  “I left you with missionaries because I wanted you to be brought up properly, with no stigmas. I wanted you among others like you, where you would be sure of yourself. If I had brought you to Montreal, you would have floundered and been mistreated.” He looked at Ben with vulnerability and honesty. “I wanted to do the selfish thing and take you with me. I wanted to have you close and be reminded of your mother every time I looked at you. But I knew it wouldn’t be for your good. I was stuck, Benjamin. Either way, I knew you’d be angry and bitter at me.”

  Ginger whinnied and stomped her foot, drawing Ben’s attention to his horse. He’d never once thought about how hard his father’s decision must have been.

  Just thinking about Levi and Zeb, who were not even his, and how hard it had been to go after Malachi, even when he knew what the outcome might be, made Ben understand his father in ways he never had. Ben had sacrificed his happiness to do what he thought was best for the boys.

  Conversely, hadn’t Ben asked Malachi to do what his father had done? Sacrifice the right to raise his boys and give them to someone who could offer them a better life?

  For the first time since his arrival, Ben looked at Phillippe with respect and admiration. Yes, he’d made poor choices and he’d hurt a lot of people, but Ben could now see that those choices had hurt his father far more.

  “Je suis désolé, Père.” I’m sorry, Father.

  Phillippe turned to Ben, surprise on his timeworn face. “I’m the one who should apologize, my son. You did not ask to be born the way you were born, and you did not ask to be left at a mission. Those decisions were mine, and mine alone. I’m sorry, Benjamin.”

  Ben reached out and embraced his father, a fierce desire to get to know this man overtaking him. They had lost twenty-five years already.

  Phillippe hugged Ben back, his hold tighter than Ben had expected.

  “Is it too late?” Ben asked as he pulled away.

  “Too late for what?” Phillipe asked, running his sleeve over his wet cheeks.

  “To be friends?”

  His father’s smile was large and bright. “It is never too late for a father and son to be friends.” His smile lingered on Ben’s face and he looked hopeful. “You have done well, my boy. I am proud of you, and your mother would be proud, too.”

  Ben sat up a bit straighter and felt a rush of energy at the praise.

  “I know you have a life here, but—” Phillipe paused as he studied Ben. “I would be honored if you would return to Montreal with me and have the life I could not give you before.”

  When the invitation had come the last time, Ben had been angry and hurt. This time, with the thought of the boys leaving and Emmy rejecting him, he suddenly realized he had nothing left to keep him in Little Falls. He would miss his friends and the people he’d come to shepherd at the church, but they could all get along without him.


  “Would Juliette mind?” Ben asked.

  “Juliette?” His father laughed, though it wasn’t filled with humor. “She is safely ensconced in a world of parties, ball gowns and status. As long as that is not threatened, she won’t make a fuss.”

  “And the others?” Ben asked, thinking of the society in Montreal.

  “There are so many men like you in Montreal now, no one will think twice about you or me or something that happened over thirty years ago.”

  “What about you?” Ben asked, looking at his father as a man in need of salvation, and not as the man who gave him life. “Have you made peace with God over what happened?”

  Phillipe clasped Ben on the back. “That’s where I thought you and I could start. Tell me about this God of yours and I will listen, Révérend Lahaye.”

  The thought of sharing the Gospel with his father, and having him receive the light of Christ’s salvation, made all the heartache of the past twenty-five years suddenly dim.

  But then he thought of Emmy and the boys, and the brief joy disappeared. If he had a choice, he would stay in Little Falls to make Emmy his wife and the boys his sons—but he couldn’t have those things.

  He rarely made a decision without a great deal of time and prayer, but he didn’t foresee anything changing his mind this time. He would take this opportunity to make a new life with his father, one he felt God had provided to help him forget the brief and wonderful days with his makeshift family.

  If only it would be so easy to forget.

  “I will go,” Ben said at last, resignation in his voice. “I will return with you to Montreal.”

  “C’est merveilleux!” Phillipe’s face lit up with joy and he stood. “When shall we leave?”

  “Christmas Day, after my last church service.” Ben also stood, wiping the dirt and hay from his backside.

  “Christmas Day?” His father frowned. “Why then?”

  Because it would be the day after the twins left, and there would be no other reason to stay.