“Emma, it’s Sunday.” Wil’s thick, dark hair was windswept and fell about his face.
Emma had to stop herself from reaching out a hand to straighten his hair. “Oh, is it the second Sunday already?” Emma hoped she didn’t look too much of a fright, since she’d just gotten straight out of bed.
“Jah, it is. Are you coming to the gathering together? I don’t see your buggy out front.”
“Nee, I mean, I want to. Am I late?”
“I’ll take you there, to save you hitching your buggy.” He glanced at her bathrobe that she was doing her best to hide behind the door. “How long will it take you to get ready?”
“Nee, I don’t think I can go; I haven’t fed the animals yet.” Emma shut her eyes tightly. Why was it so hard to carry on with simple daily chores? Well, it was morning and she was never gut at mornings; maybe she’d be better later in the day.
“You get ready and I’ll feed them,” Wil kindly offered.
Emma looked up into his face, groggy from still being half asleep.
“Well? Go on,” Wil told her before he turned and strode toward the barn leaving her staring after him.
She closed the door and raced up the stairs to get dressed. Maybe the meeting would take her mind off things and make her feel better. Jah, getting out of the haus and talking to people would be just what she needs.
* * *
The first person who approached her as she got out of the buggy was Maureen. After they exchanged greetings, Maureen said, “Emma, it might be too soon for you, but Silvie and I get together with Ettie and Elsa-May and we have - sort of have, a little group.” Maureen’s voice lowered. “A widows’ group. We don’t talk about morbid things; it’s not like that. We just get together as a group of friends because we’re all widowed. Do you think you’d like that?”
“I’d really love to come, denke.” Emma wondered why this was the first time she heard of Maureen meeting with the other widows. Emma thought she knew everything about Maureen – apparently she was wrong.
“Wednesday night at Elsa-May and Ettie’s haus then. That’s the next time we’re meeting.”
“Okay, I’ll be there.”
Wil had already gone ahead toward the crowd, which Emma was thankful for. No doubt he would have something to say about her meeting with the group of widows. Now, he’d never have to know. It’s none of his concern anyway, Emma thought. Wil had become overprotective of her in the last week, calling in on her every day and trying to fix things around the haus, things that didn’t even need fixing. He was like an overprotective older bruder.
As usual at the meetings Emma sat next to Maureen. The men and women never sat together during the meetings; it was always men on one side and women on the other. Emma knew now, how Maureen felt when she lost her husband. She thought she knew how Maureen felt at the time, but now she really knew what it meant to lose one’s husband. Emma knew that it was like having part of one’s heart ripped from them, leaving them bare and exposed. Emma glanced sideways at Maureen and marveled at the fact that she was always smiling.
Maureen caught her eye and gave her a special smile. “You okay?”
Emma managed a smile and a nod. The right thing to do was to carry on with life and manage the best that she could; there was no other choice but to do so.
As if reading the look on Emma’s face, Maureen said, “It takes time.”
“Jah, that’s what everyone keeps telling me.” Emma would have to wait and see if everyone was right. In a way, she didn’t want to feel better. Maybe if she felt better it would mean that Levi being gone did not affect her, and it did affect her.
Emma found comfort in the bishop’s words as he gave the talk. Gott’s words always comforted her. Levi and she would read the Bible together every night after dinner, even if it were just one or two verses. Since Levi had gone, she had not picked up the Bible once.
That night was the first time she arrived back home from the gathering together without Levi. As if sensing her dread of entering an empty home, Wil said, “Are you going to be all right? Do you want me to stay for a while?”
“Nee, of course not. I’ll be fine.” Emma pursed her lips together as she realized that had become her stock standard answer for everything – ‘I’ll be fine.’ Maybe if she said it enough times she would be fine and she might even come to believe it. Emma wanted Wil to stay, she wanted someone to stay with her, but she would have to face being alone and the sooner she got used to it the better off she’d be. She even had Wil stay with her through the young peoples’ singing rather than go home earlier.
“All right. You know where I am, if you need me.”
Emma nodded and got out of the buggy. Wil waited ‘til she opened the front door before he turned the buggy around and drove away.
It was dark inside the empty home. Emma promptly turned on the overhead gaslight, the one that gave out the most light.
It had been a nice day and hearing the young people singing had brightened her mood, as had Maureen’s invitation. Emma had grown too used to just having Levi’s companionship and had distanced herself somewhat from the women of the community. Now, she knew that had to change that. If she was going to adapt to her new life she needed to be more outgoing and friendly. She should have more friends, she told herself rather than just Maureen. Maybe she might find some new friends amongst the widows.
Emma pulled her prayer kapp off and sat down on the couch. She unpinned her braid and unraveled it so her hair would warm up her bare neck. Without Levi to look after, she would have to find something else to occupy her days.
She needed something to do otherwise she would surely go mad. Emma’s thoughts turned to Wil. He’d been gut to her and she wondered why someone so thoughtful and caring as he, had never married. Emma ran her mind back in time to try and recall if he had courted anyone – ever. She could not remember him with a girl, which she considered odd. He was handsome and had his own farm, why wouldn’t he have a fraa by now? At one time, Levi had mentioned that Wil was waiting ‘til he was financially secure – whatever that meant. Well, maybe that’s it, he’s waiting for some reason that only he knows himself. Emma smiled. That would be typical of Wil. Sometimes he’s in his own little world.
Emma put the kettle on the stove. She would have a hot cup of chamomile tea to help her sleep. Maureen had told her that she did not have a full night’s sleep for two months after her husband died. Would she be better off away from this farm and this haus with all the memories? But the haus would still be there and to have someone else living in the haus that she once shared with Levi may be worse than staying in it. Anyway, Maureen advised her not to make any major decisions for some time.
She spooned the chopped chamomile flower heads into the muslin pouch, and then poured the hot water over. As she let the tea steep, she thought of the bishop’s words that day. He spoke on being grateful for everything and giving thanks. Maybe in a few weeks’ time she could think of things to be grateful for, but as for now, it was a little difficult to be grateful. Maureen had told her that time helps to heal your heart. Why couldn’t she go to sleep and wake up a year later? Maybe in a year she would be able to find some happy thoughts.
It was hard not to think of Levi when everything reminded her of him. The very table and chairs where she sat had been made by Levi’s daed. The china teacup she drank out of was part of a tea set given to her by Levi once she agreed to be his fraa.
At some point she would have to do something with Levi’s clothes. She would keep his black Bible, but that is all she would keep of his. She took the muslin package out of the hot water and sipped the tea while thinking peaceful thoughts to encourage a gut sleep; that’s what Maureen had advised her to do. Half a cup of tea was all that she could manage. As she walked over to the sink to rinse out the teacup, she noticed the two cards that were handed to her on the day of the funeral. She placed the cup in the sink, picked up the cards and sat down.
The first card was Mr. Weeks’
and it reminded Emma that he said he would visit. The other card was from the ‘vulture’ and she hoped that she would never see him again. It was rude of him to ask her to sell her farm at the funeral. She looked at the vulture’s name, ‘Wiley McAllister.’ He had to be the same man who had already spoken to Levi about selling the land some time ago. Levi gave him a flat ‘no,’ but that did not stop the man from asking him again, another two times that Emma knew of.
Levi had told her that the farming land was growing scarce, but he never wanted to sell; she would make sure that she held on to the land for him, if that’s what his wishes were. Besides, she reminded herself, it gave her an income. She stretched up her hands over her head and yawned. Hmm, perhaps I might be able to sleep tonight, she thought. With that, she rose from the table, popped the two cards into the top drawer of the kitchen cabinet and headed up the stairs to her bedroom.
****
The very next day Emma decided it best to pack Levi’s things and drive them to Bessy’s haus. Bessy took the communities unwanted items and distributed them to the various charities about the place.
Emma had five large cardboard boxes that she had collected from the produce store. That ought to fit all his clothing in, she thought. Tears had to be fought back as she folded his clothing into the boxes. They might help someone else though. She knew she would not feel better with his clothing gone from the bedroom, but it had to be done so she may as well do it now rather than later; she’d only be putting the heartache off to another day.
As she folded clothes she heard a car outside. Emma looked out from her bedroom window and saw Mr. Weeks getting out of his car. She threw the black suit jacket that she had in her hands on to the bed and hurried down to the front door.
“Good morning, Mr. Weeks.”
Mr. Weeks stepped onto the porch. “Good morning. I hope you don’t mind me paying you a visit.”
“Not at all. Please do come in.” Emma stepped aside to let Mr. Weeks into the haus. “Would you like a cup of tea or kaffe?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
“Sit down, please.”
Mr. Weeks took a seat at the kitchen table. “The reason I’m here, besides checking that you’re okay, is to tell you that I’ve put in an insurance claim for your husband’s accident.”
“I see.” Emma busied herself getting the tea and cookies. She knew that Englischers drank black tea and she was sure that she had some somewhere.
He continued, “So that means, you might get quite a sum of money.”
“Oh, that will come in handy.” Emma looked across at him.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it at all.” He looked down at his hands that were clasped on the tabletop.
“Why do you say that?”
“Wil refused his safety harness so there’s only a small chance that the insurance will pay up. I’ve lodged the claim anyway. Maybe you could – well, pray about it.”
“I’ll certainly do that.” Emma knew that Gott always works in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform. Emma wasn’t quite sure what that last part meant that had run through her head – it was part of a Scripture, she was sure of that.
“I don’t know why he refused his harness.” Mr. Weeks scratched his head.
“He was a very stubborn man and very sure of himself. He organized a lot of barn-raisings and did a lot of work at a great height; I guess he thought that he didn’t need one.” Emma placed the sugar cookies and a pot of tea down on the table. She glanced at Mr. Weeks’ worried face. “Surely you don’t hold yourself accountable?”
“In a way, I do.”
“Nee, please don’t. It was his decision and he wouldn’t want you to feel that way.”
Mr. Weeks’ eyes misted over. Emma hoped he would not cry. She wasn’t used to seeing men cry and she would not know what to do. “Gott wanted him home. It was his time to go.”
Mr. Weeks nodded.
“He’s in a much better place now. I know that in my heart.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kurtzler. You’re very kind.” Mr. Weeks took a sip of the hot tea then picked up a sugar cookie. “Will you be staying on here – on the farm?”
Why was everyone interested on whether she was staying on? Was the whole town trying to make her sell? That’s certainly what it felt like. “The farm is leased so it’s enough for me to live on. I’ve no reason to sell.” Especially if the insurance that money comes through, she thought.
“I see. So you lease the whole farm? To a wheat farmer?”
“We… I mean I lease the land except the haus, the barn and a little land to grow vegetables. Henry Pluver’s the man who leases it. He’s an Amish man who leases a few parcels of land around the area. He’s got his own farm too, but I’ve heard that his own farm isn’t very big.”
Mr. Weeks scratched his chin. “So he’s Amish you say?”
“Yes he is.”
“Pluver is an unusual name.”
“I guess it is. Come to think of it his family is the only Pluver in the community. I’m not sure of their history.”
Mr. White looked thoughtful and nibbled on the sugar cookie. “Are you friendly with the Pluver family?”
“No, not especially.” Emma thought of the Pluvers, the sour faced Mrs. Pluver and the creepy son, Bob. Mr. Pluver was just a typical Amish farmer. “It’s certainly good news about the insurance money. If it comes through.”
Mr. Weeks held up his hand. “I wouldn’t go spending it just yet.”
Emma smiled at the thought of going on a spending spree. She was very frugal with money as was all her familye. She’d been taught from a young age to make do with what she had. She could cook and sew and had need of very little. The money would just sit somewhere, in case the farm needed something or the haus needed repair that was all.
“Emma?”
Emma heard Wil at the front door.
“Come in and join us, Wil.”
Wil walked through to the kitchen and Mr. Weeks stood and nodded his head as a greeting. Wil did the same.
Emma noticed that the two men did not shake hands. Probably they are still at odds with each other over the incident at the funeral. Emma considered that Wil was rather rude to Mr. Weeks at the funeral when Mr. Weeks had offered her help.
As Wil sat at the table, Emma saw that his face was flushed and she figured that he must have rushed over when he saw a strange car parked in her driveway.
There was an awkward silence and Mr. Weeks took a large gulp of tea. There was a hostility arising from Wil toward Mr. Weeks and it was obvious that Mr. Weeks could feel it as well as she.
She rose to her feet. “I’ll fix you some tea, Wil.”
“Denke, Emma. So, Mr. Weeks, what brings you here today?”
“I’m visiting Mrs. Kurtzler, as I mentioned I would. I can assure you I have no ill intentions towards Mrs. Kurtzler. Levi Kurtzler was a respected member of my team and I’m sure he would want me to see that his wife has everything she needs.”
Emma let out the breath that she had been holding onto. She thought that Mr. Weeks would have put Wil’s over protectiveness to rest.
“As I told you the other day – we look after our own. I appreciate your visit, but I will see that Emma has everything she needs.” Wil’s tone was bordering on hostile - again.
Emma nearly dropped the teapot she had just picked up. “Wil.”
Wil looked at her, stony faced.
Mr. Weeks stood abruptly. “I’ll be going now then, Mrs. Kurtzler. Please, you’ve got my number if you need anything and we’ll discuss that other matter if anything comes of it.”
“Yes, thank you. I’ll see you out.” Emma walked Mr. Weeks to the front door. “I’m so sorry about that,” she whispered.
Mr. Weeks shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. It didn’t bother me.” He gave her a smile and a little wink before he turned and walked to his car.
Emma marched straight back to Wil who had a mouthful of cookie. “Wil, that was rude. Don’t
you think?”
“Nee I don’t. There was only one thing he was doing here, Emma. He’s attracted to you and you’re a woman on your own. You have to be more careful. You can’t let people into the haus like that.”
Emma folded her hands across her chest and looked down at him sitting at the table leaning back eating cookies. “Well, you’re in the haus aren’t you?”
He shook his head and his eyes turned to the ceiling. “That’s different. You’re like my little schweschder. We’ve been friends forever.”
So, that’s what he thinks of me. He doesn’t see me as a woman; he sees me as his little schweschder. Emma didn’t know why, but she was a little disappointed to know that he thought of her in that way. Although, neither did she want the aggravation of him being attracted to her; it was far too soon for her to consider another man in her life. Why was she so upset by his words? Maybe she did like him, in that special way, just a little. She sat down opposite him and picked up a cookie and took a bite. They sat in silence for a moment; the only noise was that of crunching cookies.
“Before Mr. Weeks arrived, I was packing Levi’s clothing into boxes.”
“Do you need help?”
Emma shrugged her shoulders. She did not know what she wanted. Maybe she wanted help and maybe she didn’t. Maybe she wanted to be alone while she packed up Levi’s clothes. “I’m planning to take them to over to Bessy’s place.”
Wil took a mouthful of his tea then placed the teacup down on the table. “I’ll take them to Bessy’s for you.”
“That would be a help. You could carry the boxes down the stairs for me too.”
“Of course.”
Emma was grateful for his help, but at times he was too much. Sometimes she just wanted some space. Emma’s thoughts turned to Bessy. She was around the same age as Wil and she had never married either. For a moment she wondered if they would make a match, but then Emma dismissed the idea. If they were to make a match they would’ve had plenty of time to get together before now. But then, who was there for Wil and who was there for Bessy? It dawned on Emma at that moment that she should be grateful that she had known real love. It was clear that many of the married people she saw about the place were not happy with their choices and then there were a handful of people in the community who remained unmarried. Levi and she were happy and very much in love; for that, she was grateful.
The Amish Widow (Amish Romance Mystery) (Amish Secret Widows' Society Book 1) Page 2