Courting Emily (A Wells Landing Book 2) Page 5

  “Why ever not?”

  “Elam . . .” She shook her head. “He’s a stubborn soul that one, so much like his father before . . . well, before.”

  “It will take more than his stubbornness to chase me off.” And she meant it. Ever since Luke had left and she’d had to give up her teaching position, she had felt adrift. She’d felt like she was living in someone else’s skin. But being here and helping—regardless of the scowls she’d received from Elam—she felt more like herself. As if God had been intending for her to help this family all along. “Now go rest and when you wake up I’m sure everything will be a little brighter.”

  Finally, Joy made her way back to her room. By then, James and Johanna had devoured almost a dozen chocolate chip cookies. She shook her head, laughing at the chocolate smears on their faces.

  She could see now why James’s injury had been so hard on the family. He was like a child, simple and petulant. That in itself wouldn’t have been so bad. He could still do the chores of a small child, but the dizzy spells mixed with his strong will could make for some terrible accidents.

  It was easy to see why Elam and Joy worried about him constantly, but some things a person had to hand to the Lord.

  Chapter Five

  Elam took a deep breath as he came across the hill in the pasture and saw the buggy in the side yard. A deep calming breath. What was she doing here again?

  Jah, his mamm had told him that Emily Ebersol would be stopping by today, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d hoped she wouldn’t show.

  His heart pounded a little harder in his chest the closer he got to the house. He would have to apologize, have to come up with some reason why he had acted so surly toward her. He’d have to come up with something other than the truth.

  How could he tell her that he had loved her for as long as he could remember, though he knew even longer than that she had been in love with Luke Lambright?

  He couldn’t remember the first time he had ever seen Emily Ebersol, but he could certainly remember the first time he’d noticed her. She was ten and he was fourteen, in his last year of school. He’d tried so hard that year to gain her attention, but even then, Luke Lambright was the one she loved.

  After Elam had left school, he’d had to settle himself with the occasional chance meeting in town or perhaps the off-Sunday volleyball game. Other than that, he hardly saw her. Their four-year age difference put them in different youth groups. Like it would have mattered. Luke had captured her heart long ago.

  Then for Elam to come into his own house and see the pity in her eyes . . .

  It was almost more than he could bear.

  He slapped his gloves against his leg and slipped the multi-use pliers into his back pocket. He’d been out walking the fence all morning, after chasing down two heifers that had somehow gotten out of the pasture. He found the hole and patched it, but the incident put him behind for the day. He had two more acres of alfalfa to bale before the cold hit. If the talk around the co-op was right, they were in for a long winter this year.

  Before he could get to the hay, he had an apology to make.

  Of course it was the hottest day on record for early October, and he had to humble himself before Emily Ebersol. He swiped one sleeve across his forehead.

  He was grimy and dusty, his mouth full of sand and grit. It was bad enough he had to face her at all, but to face her like this . . . He sighed. It couldn’t be helped.

  Without another thought on the matter, he loped up the porch steps and entered the house. The sight that greeted him was yet another surprise.

  His father sat at the table with Johanna. Both had a school worksheet in front of them and a crayon grasped in one hand. His father’s tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on coloring.

  He was coloring. Elam closed his eyes, shook his head, then looked again. Jah, his vatter was coloring a picture of harvest corn and an Englisch scarecrow. But whereas Johanna was working diligently with orange and brown, his father’s picture was purple. Several different shades, but all purple.

  Emily bustled out of the kitchen looking like a breath of spring in her violet-colored dress and crisp black apron. Her dark blue eyes settled on him and widened.

  “Elam,” she exclaimed. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Bruder.” Johanna tossed her crayon aside and slid from her chair. In an instant, she had thrown herself at his legs as if he’d been gone a week instead of just the morning.

  Her reaction was just another side effect of his father’s injury. Anytime anyone left for too long, Johanna worried they wouldn’t come back the same as when they left.

  He lifted his sister into his arms.

  She ran her tiny fingers down his face as if to assure herself he was the same as this morning.

  “Where’s Mamm?” he asked.

  “Taking a nap,” Johanna answered. “But Emily said I don’t have to because I’m too big.”

  “Really?” He turned to Emily, who had the grace to blush.

  “That’s not exactly what I said.”

  He let Johanna slide to the floor. She raced back over to her picture and picked up the orange crayon once again. “Dat, you’re doing it wrong,” she protested. “Corn isn’t purple.”

  Emily turned back to Elam’s baby sister. “Corn can be any color your vatter wants it to be.”

  “Jah.” Johanna ducked her head. “Okay, then.”

  But Elam could feel her frustration. They all suffered from it. Frustration that a once vibrant and healthy man had been reduced to coloring stalks of corn in a child’s workbook.

  Suddenly he wanted to march over to his father and snatch the paper away. It hurt. Plain and simple.

  As much as Elam understood God’s will, he didn’t understand how to accept it. He couldn’t see why his father with so many gut years left of his life needed to be reduced to a child.

  He held his place and refused to allow himself the anger. “Emily.” He cleared his throat. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  She tilted her head to one side, obviously surprised by his request. “Jah.” She straightened her shoulders as if preparing for an opposition.

  “Alone,” he clarified.

  She raised her brows, but said nothing else on the matter. “We could step out on the porch. That way I can keep an eye on . . .” She trailed off.

  “Can I have another cookie before you go?” Johanna asked.

  Emily laughed. The sound refreshed the room. How long had it been since any of them had laughed? Too long, for sure. But he knew much of the beauty in it came from the woman herself.

  “Nay, liebschdi,” Emily said. “You will ruin your middawk .”

  “Jah. Okay.” She bent her head down over her picture, so low, even the tied strings on her kapp touched the table.

  Elam opened the door and motioned Emily to step onto the porch.

  “Jah?” she said as she steadily gazed at him. She was not going to make this easy.

  “I must apologize for yesterday.”

  She seemed to deflate before his eyes, like one of the rafts they used to float down the river. “It is not necessary.” She seemed suddenly uncomfortable and started to move past him, back into the house.

  “I disagree.” He caught her arm before she could leave him behind.

  She looked down at his fingers against the fabric of her sleeve. He told himself to release her, but he couldn’t.

  He wasn’t hurting her, just soaking in the warmth that was Emily.

  “Please,” he said. “I was just surprised, is all.”

  “Surprised by what?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and finally convinced his fingers to turn her loose. “That there were so many people in my house.”

  Making noise and bustling about like . . . like nothing in the world was wrong.

  “You worry about him too much, you know?”

  His gaze jerked up to meet hers. She eyed him without apology, the blue or
bs steady. “Jah,” he finally said. But he couldn’t say more through the constriction in his throat.

  “Joy does, too. He needs to be up and moving.”

  “He falls,” Elam protested.

  “At least let him sit at the kitchen table.”

  Just like that, his charitable feelings toward Emily evaporated. “Two days of coming here to help does not make you an expert on handling my father.”

  She crossed her arms and raised herself up, but she still hardly reached his shoulder. “I never said it did.”

  “Gut . . . jah . . . you keep that in mind.” He wanted to say more, but the words failed him.

  She pushed past him and into the house.

  Elam stood for the longest time staring at the door and wondering how it all went so wrong.

  Milking time was both her favorite time of the day and her least favorite. Emily loved it because they all worked together in the barn, taking care of the goats that provided so much for them. But she hated it because as the eldest she was assigned the sterilized milk room and didn’t see much of her sisters for the two hours she was there.

  But tonight wasn’t so bad. She had plenty of thoughts to keep her company. Unfortunately most of them had to do with stubborn Elam Riehl. She would have much rather been thinking about Luke and his dancing blue eyes, wondering what he was doing at that very moment. His life had to be filled with excitement and fun, like only the Englisch could experience. Was he racing a car? Eating with friends? Maybe even playing games and watching television like the world was prone to do? One thing was for sure, he wasn’t milking goats and wondering about her.

  Yet as much as she wanted to think about Luke, all that came to mind was Elam. The expression on his face as she said his father needed to be up and moving around his own house told her that she had shocked him as if she had declared something utterly sinful.

  Emily poured another bucket of goat’s milk into the cooler.

  James had been so happy to be out of his room, so tickled to color a picture with his daughter. Jah, it was sad for her to see him like that, but he had so much left to give his family, in smiles, if nothing else.

  Little Johanna was starved for his attention. She craved his presence and spent their time before lunch instructing him on the best ways to work a puzzle.

  But after Elam had come in with his weak apology, she had sent Johanna into the garden to gather the last of the food.

  Tomorrow they were all headed over to paint the house and the barn. She and her shveshtah would work on canning the last of the garden and that would be that. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to go to Elam’s house anymore and be subjected to his cold heart and permanent scowl.

  The look on her face was still lingering in his mind as Elam cut the bread for their supper that night. But only because she had brought over the bread. Not because her blue eyes flashed with hurt.

  “Be careful bruder, or you will ruin the whole loaf.” Becky’s words brought him back to the present before he sliced into his hand instead of the bread. “What is bothering you tonight?”

  “Nix.” He hated how easily the lie sprang to his lips.

  He carried the bread basket to the table and sat down. His mamm had taken his vatter’s supper into the bedroom to feed him. His hands were not steady enough nor his balance dependable enough to allow him a place at the table. Elam could not stand the thought of the younger kinner seeing their father in this state, and Joy had agreed. Holding a crayon was one thing, a spoon of hot soup another.

  “And then we colored pictures. Though Dat colored his corn purple.” Johanna made a face as if she was still uncertain about the merits of purple corn.

  “It’s time to pray,” Elam said, bowing his head only after his sisters had done so.

  Here lately, the words for a prayer were harder to find. Was God even listening? Elam had asked for his father’s healing, rain, and peace, but so far none of those things were his.

  The last Sunday he’d gone to church, Bishop Ebersol had talked about humbling yourself before God, accepting His will. Elam had felt like the man was speaking straight to him, but he noticed that Cephas’s gaze never drifted far from his own daughter.

  Amish church leaders were supposed to preach off the cuff each church Sunday and talk about whatever God moved them to speak about, but Elam had a feeling there was more to the sermon than just that.

  Elam pulled his thoughts back to his prayer. He thanked the Lord for the food and the health of those sitting around him. “Aemen,” he said, and lifted his head.

  “Did you see the purple potatoes in the market?” Becky asked, passing the plain white ones to one of the twins.

  “Purple potatoes?” Johanna scrunched up her nose, and Elam realized it was an expression she shared with their father. He too would wrinkle his nose when doubtful about something.

  “Jah,” Becky said. She scooped up a spoonful of green beans and passed the bowl to the next sister.

  “But only on the outside, right?” Miriam asked.

  “Nay, on the inside. They are as purple as . . . as purple as . . .”

  “Emily’s dress?” Johanna asked.

  “Jah.” Becky laughed. “I suppose so.”

  And as easily as that, Emily Ebersol was back in his thoughts.

  Like she was ever far from them.

  She was the most stubborn and infuriating woman he had ever known. Yet he found himself drawn to her, thinking about her more and more with each day.

  Not so long ago, he had learned to curb his thoughts of her. He had come to realize the truth in her relationship with Luke. But now everything was changing, almost faster than he could keep up. All of a sudden she was underfoot, coming to his house, helping his family. Jah, he had managed to not think about her so much back then, but this was now, and she was becoming part of his dreams once again.

  She told herself she was going to stay as far away from Elam Riehl as possible. So why did she find herself pulling into his driveway once again?

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Mary asked.

  “Do I have a choice?” Emily asked.

  Mary’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “I suppose Dat’s excuse for you to drive out here is weak at best.”

  “I’ll say.” Emily pulled the horses to a stop and climbed down from the buggy. “I don’t see why they can’t just bring the paint over tomorrow morning when they come to do the work.”

  Mary nodded. “That seems more logical to me, but you know Dat.”

  She certainly did, and her father wanted her to spend as much time as possible with Elam Riehl. Even if it meant inventing wacky excuses for her to come to the Riehl house. Who even said he would be there for her to see? He might have a love in another district. Sure, the courting rituals weren’t quite as secretive as they had been back in her father’s day, but that didn’t mean Elam was one to go spouting off about his intentions.

  In fact, with his stern mouth and quiet nature, telling everyone about his feelings for another was the last thing she would expect from him.

  “Oy! ” he called from the front porch. He was wiping his hands on a towel as if he had been inside cleaning up after supper.

  So much for him not even being home.

  Emily had managed not to say another word to him before she left that very afternoon. She stayed out of his way and he out of hers. Becky could tell something was amiss between them. She kept looking back and forth, from one to the other whenever they found themselves in the same room together.

  Thankfully, time to milk had finally come around. Emily had hugged Joy, Johanna, and Becky good-bye, even getting a quick squeeze from James before heading back home. At the time, she had wondered how she would make it through the following day when they came to paint. Now she had to figure out how to make it through this evening with Elam.

  “We brought paint.” Mary said the words like they were the greatest news.

  “Paint?” Becky appeared on the porch behind her bruder.
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  “For tomorrow,” Emily explained.

  Elam nodded, then tossed the towel over his shoulder. He jogged down the steps as Emily grabbed two buckets of the paint and moved out of his way.

  “Where do you want this?” she asked.

  “Barn,” he rumbled.

  She headed off in the direction of the barn just as Mary chirped, “This paint is for the house. We’ll put it on the porch.”

  Emily inwardly sighed as Elam followed behind her into the barn. Could her sister be any more obvious?

  “Where do you want it?” she asked once they had stepped into the dim interior.

  “There’s gut.” Elam raised his chin toward the first stall. It looked like it was only used for storage.

  Emily set the paint cans just inside the door, then moved back so Elam could do the same.

  “If you haven’t noticed, I think my sister is trying to play matchmaker,” she said in a rush. “And my vatter, too.”

  “Jah?” Elam set his paint cans down, then turned his attention to her.

  She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “It is nothing you have done.”

  “Jah, but I thought I should warn you.”

  “Danki,” he said.

  “He thinks I’m never going to get married.” Why was she telling him this? She almost clamped a hand over her mouth to stem the flow of words, but she was afraid that would only draw attention to them.

  “Because of Luke Lambright?”

  “What about Luke?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself. Suddenly she felt exposed. That was the second time Elam had mentioned Luke to her.

  “Everyone knows that you and Luke . . .” He trailed off with a shake of his head. “Why did you stop teaching?” he asked.

  “Again my father. He said it was because he needed my help with the market booth. But I think he believes that if I keep teaching, I’ll never get married.”

  “He seems pretty determined to find you a husband.”

  “Jah.” She brushed at a strand of hay clinging to her apron.