Courting Emily (A Wells Landing Book 2) Page 6

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Does it matter?”

  He was quiet for so long, Emily wasn’t sure he’d even answer. She looked up and met his steady gaze. “Jah,” he finally said. “It does matter. Everyone should have love.”

  “If you’re such a romantic, then why haven’t you gotten married?” This time she did clamp her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled through her fingers. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  “I’ve got my hands full around here. I just never found the time to court anyone.”

  Surely there had been a time during his rumspringa when he’d had the time to court a special girl. Back then his father had been fine and whole, but Emily wasn’t about to ask. Something in Elam’s tone gave her pause, stilled her words on her lips. Something in his eyes made her stop, though she wasn’t sure what it was. Hurt, longing, determination. She couldn’t tell.

  “Emily?” Mary called from the barn door. “The paint is all unloaded. Time to go.”

  “Be right there,” she called. “I need to uh . . .” She waved a hand for him to move to the side so she could exit the stall. “Tonight Aaron is coming over to see her, and she wants to get back before he gets to the house.”

  “Aaron Miller?”

  “Jah.”

  “Do you think they’ll get married?”

  “Of course.” And that was the problem. With Mary being younger and already intended, both her sister and her father thought it was time for Emily to get married as well. What they didn’t understand was how much she loved Luke Lambright. Or how long she was willing to wait for him to come to his senses and return to Wells Landing.

  He would return. She knew it as surely as she knew that God was good, puppies were cute, and the sky was blue.

  She just had to be patient. She needed to be understanding. And she had to avoid her father’s matchmaking at all costs. It would never do for Luke to return and find Emily courting another.

  Chapter Six

  Saturday morning turned out to be the perfect day to hold a work frolic. Between the scraping off the old paint and the application of the primer, Emily made gallons of lemonade. Beautiful day or not, lingering summer warmed the air and the men were hot and thirsty.

  As she stirred yet another batch of lemonade in the big cooler, her sister Mary sidled up and slipped her arm through Emily’s.

  “Have you seen him?”

  Emily started. “Luke’s here?” Her gaze darted around the men trying to spot him in the crowd of workers.

  “Nay,” she said. “Aaron.” She pointed to where he stood, high on a ladder as he painted the trim on the house.

  Aaron Miller was as tall and lanky as his brother Jonah. Both boys had dark blond hair and tawny eyes the color of rich maple syrup. Aaron Miller was a handsome bu—not as handsome as her Luke, of course. But he’d make Mary a gut husband.

  “Mary Miller,” her sister breathed, trying the name on for sound and size.

  “Are you going to marry him?” Emily asked.

  Mary dimpled and dropped her gaze, a sure sign she was hiding something. “That’s supposed to be a secret.”

  “Which means he hasn’t asked you,” Emily said, hating the dryness of her tone.

  Mary’s gaze jerked back to Emily’s. “You know as well as I do that he won’t announce his intentions until after the wedding season.”

  “Which hasn’t even started yet.” Plus Mary still had to join the church. Baptism classes hadn’t been held this year, delaying her ability to attend classes until next year. Perfect timing as far as Emily was concerned. Mary and Luke could attend classes together and maybe the following year, Emily and Luke could have a double wedding with Mary and Aaron. It would be so perfect.

  “Why are you being difficult?” Mary asked, hurt flashing in her eyes.

  Emily wrapped an arm around her sister. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be—”

  “Mean?” Mary supplied.

  “Jah. Forgive me?”

  Mary returned her hug and patted her hand. “Of course.”

  “I just . . .” Emily trailed off, not able to adequately put into words all her worry and fears about Luke. For all her thoughts of a wedding, she worried because she hadn’t heard from him. Worried that he was forgetting all about her.

  She pushed the thoughts aside. Nay, he was the one for her, and she had to be patient and strong until God returned him to her.

  “Maybe you should go talk to Aaron about it,” Mary said as if she could read Emily’s thoughts.

  “I don’t know what good it would do. I already talked to Jonah.”

  “You could go ask his onkle.”

  Now that she could do. Maybe next week. As the plan took shape in her mind, Emily poured the cups of lemonade and took them over to the men.

  “Would anyone like a drink?” she asked.

  A chorus of jahs went up all around.

  She laughed at their enthusiasm and handed out cups.

  “Danki.”

  She looked up from her task to see that Elam Riehl had taken the last drink from her tray. “Gern gschehne.”

  He swallowed deep and nodded toward the barn. “It’s coming along, jah?”

  “It looks wunderbaar.”

  “Not yet, but it will.” He swept his hat from his head and ran a sleeve across his sweaty brow. “And I have you to thank.”

  “Me?” She shook her head. “Nay. I only made the lemonade.”

  “You told your father that we needed help.”

  “That is nothing.”

  He took a deep breath and propped his hands on his hips. “It was something to me,” he said. Then he turned and went back to painting, leaving Emily to wonder where his agreeable mood had come from.

  “Emily!” Becky Riehl raced across the yard, the strings on her kapp trailing behind her. “Dat wants you,” she said when she got close enough that she didn’t have to shout.

  “My dat?”

  “No, silly. My dat.”

  What would James Riehl want with her?

  Becky slipped her arm through Emily’s and led her back to the house.

  They went in the front door, but James was not sitting at the kitchen table.

  “Back here.” Becky led the way down the hall to James’s room.

  It was dark and surprisingly cool inside. James sat on the edge of his bed, his head cradled in his hands. Joy stood over him, her fists propped on her hips in a defensive pose.

  “Dat, I brought Emily to you.”

  He looked up, his eyes shining with recognition. “I want to watch the men paint.”

  Emily glanced toward Joy who stiffened at his request. “It’s too bright out there, James. It’ll make your head ache.”

  “My head aches anyway.” He pouted. “Emily, take me outside.”

  “Emily is not going to take you anywhere.”

  She couldn’t tell if Joy was upset with this latest development or not. Her eyes were unreadable and her expression stoic.

  “Maybe if we put him in the shade . . . ?” Emily started, quietly so that only Joy could hear.

  “I do not think it is a gut idea.” She bit her bottom lip, but otherwise her strong stance remained steady.

  “Nor is allowing him to get this upset,” Becky pointed out.

  Joy took them by the arms and led them to a corner across the room. “I worry,” she started.

  Emily patted her hand. “I know. But sunshine might do him some gut. I’ll sit with him,” she offered. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get up or wander off.”

  Tears rose in Joy’s eyes. “You would do that for him? For us?”

  “Of course.” It was all part of giving back to the community, the cornerstone of being Amish.

  “Will you help me get him up and around?”

  Emily wasn’t sure if Joy had changed her mind about taking her husband outside or if she was tired of fighting him about staying in bed. Whatever it was, Emily was willing to help. She nodd
ed and together the three of them prepared James for his trip outside.

  Joy decided it would be easiest to take James only as far as the front porch, but Becky pointed out it might just frustrate him as he wouldn’t be able to see all of the men as they worked.

  “There are three of us,” Emily reasoned. “We should be able to get him down the steps and to the big oak next to the shed.”

  James was willing enough, just unsteady on his feet as they helped him outside. Emily took one elbow and Joy the other, while Becky hurried ahead and spread a quilt underneath the tree.

  In no time at all, they were settled under the big branches while the men painted and the women watched. It wasn’t as bright under the tree, but Emily made a mental note to check into some of those dark glasses the Englisch wore when they were outside. They might hide the glare enough for James to be comfortable out in the sun.

  A softball game had started among some of the children. A few were painting on the lower parts of the barn while still others ran in circles and chased the dogs. Johanna Riehl was one of these, until she saw her father had come outside. She veered off from the rest and raced to his side.

  “Dat,” she squealed as she hurled herself at him.

  The smile on James’s face was worth every bit of worry Emily had gone through to get him to the yard. Mixed with Johanna’s grin, they were both brighter than the sun.

  She turned and caught Elam’s stare. Her own smile died on her lips at his scowl. Whatever goodwill was between them earlier vanished in that instant.

  She thought for a minute that he was about to storm over to her and demand she take his father right back into the house, but someone next to him spoke and she was granted a reprieve.

  But not for long. As Johanna and her dat played hand games and found shapes in the clouds above, Elam stalked over.

  “Emily, may I have a word?”

  She wanted to tell him no and remain seated under the big oak tree, but that would only fuel his anger.

  “Jah.” She stood and brushed her hands down the sides of her blue frack. Not that her clothes were wrinkled enough for much attention, but suddenly she felt a little like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I know what you are going to say,” she started.

  “You have no idea.”

  She reared back at the harshness of his tone. He spoke in low volumes so others wouldn’t hear, but anger came off him like rippling waves of summer heat. “I didn’t bring him out here on my own. Your mother and sister were with me. He was never in any danger of falling.”

  “He is always in danger of falling.” His green eyes glittered accusingly.

  “But he wanted to come out. How long has it been, Elam? Since he’s been outside?”

  “That is not what we are talking about.”

  His tone raised her hackles, but something deep inside her wanted to help this family that was held together by a thread and a prayer. “Maybe it is what we should be talking about.” She braced her hands on her hips and stiffened her spine. “I think being outside will do your father some gut.”

  “You don’t get to make the decisions for this family.”

  She wasn’t going to get anywhere with him like this. She softened her tone, hoping to reason with him. His father needed to be outside, prone to dizzy spells or not. He needed his family and the love of those around him, not to be locked in a dark room and allowed to waste away. “I’m only trying to help.”

  “You are disrupting everything.”

  “Elam, your father wanted to come outside. He asked for us to bring him out in the sun.”

  “He doesn’t know what he wants.” Elam crossed his arms and stared down at her. His mouth was still set in a stern line, but at least he didn’t vibrate with anger.

  “You have to stop protecting him so much,” she said, extending a hand toward him.

  He jerked out of her reach. “And you have to stop . . . stop . . .” He obviously couldn’t find the words. “Stay away from my family, Emily Ebersol.” Then he stalked away, leaving Emily to go back to the blanket under the big oak tree on very shaky legs.

  James shot her a sweet smile as she sat back down on the quilt next to him. Johanna had tired of their game and crawled into his lap. The sight of her curled up with her thumb in her mouth and her head on his shoulder was enough to warrant putting up with Elam’s foul mood.

  Honestly, she didn’t know why he was so cranky with her. Couldn’t he see that his father needed this attention? That James needed to be out among people again?

  “Don’t mind him,” James said, rocking Johanna back and forth. His voice was so quiet she thought for a minute she might have imagined it. “He was always too serious.”

  Emily studied the man’s face, so like his son’s except for the dark beard. Their eyes were the same, though where Elam’s were clouded, James’s were clear with a newborn innocence.

  “I know this has to be hard on him.” James’s words came out in short spurts, as if he had to search through files before he could find the right ones to say, even in Deutsch.

  “Elam?”

  “Jah.” He leaned back against the tree to brace himself as his daughter fell asleep in his arms. “I know I’m not the same as I was before. It must be hard for someone you depend on to get hurt.”

  “They love you very much.”

  “I know.” He closed his eyes, and his hat pitched forward as he rested his head against the trunk.

  Emily plucked it from its precarious position, laying it on the blanket between them. “Are you ready to go back in the house?”

  “Nay.” He smiled, though his eyes remained closed.

  “Is your head hurting?” Emily asked. The last thing she wanted was for James to overdo it. Having Elam even madder at her resided at the bottom of her wish list.

  “Not so bad right now. Joy will be by in a while to make me take pills again.” He made a face as if he didn’t like to take the pills.

  Should she ask him why? Was it too personal? Would he even understand?

  “Will you come back over next week?” he asked.

  “Of course I will.” The words automatically fell from her lips. So what if Elam had told her to stay away? His father wanted her close. That was all that mattered to her.

  “Will you wear your purple dress?”

  She smiled at his request. “It’s my favorite.”

  “I think he likes you,” Mary said as they trotted home that afternoon. They left the Riehls’ house just after three, which gave them plenty of time to get home before milking began.

  It had taken the better part of the morning, but the Riehl house and barn had never looked better.

  “What?” Emily turned her attention from her thoughts to her sister. The horses practically knew the way home and could maneuver without much help from her, which left her wallowing in her own thoughts.

  “I think Elam likes you,” Mary explained.

  “No more than any other maedel.” As she said the words, his cold stare and warning to stay away from his family flashed through her mind.

  “Oh, jah. Lots more.”

  Emily shook her head. “You’re wrong. He hates me.”

  “‘Hate is an ugly word,’” she said, quoting their mother.

  “Strongly dislikes, then.”

  Mary shook her head, their shoulders bumping as they cantered along. “He likes you.”

  “He yelled at me for bringing his father outside.”

  “I watched the whole thing, and there was no yelling.”

  Emily twisted her mouth into a grimace. “He wanted to then.”

  Mary smiled. “You know what the Englisch say.”

  “Nay,” Emily said, already tired of the conversation. “I don’t.”

  “It is a short line between hate and love.”

  She frowned at her sister. “Are you sure that is how it goes?”

  “It is something like that. It means that the person who cares about you the most can make you the
angriest.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that,” Emily said, pulling the buggy to a stop. She waited at the intersection for a beat before setting the horse in motion once again.

  “Of course it is true.”

  Emily shook her head, her sister’s intentions suddenly clear. “Oh, nay, you don’t. Just because you are in love doesn’t mean the world needs to be in love with you.”

  “What about Luke?” Mary asked with a self-satisfied smirk.

  Her heart gave a painful thump at the mention of his name. She schooled her features to hide her inner turmoil, though if anyone knew how much she missed Luke, it was her sister. “What about Luke?”

  “Does he count in your ‘the world doesn’t need to be in love theory?’ Of course not.”

  Emily sniffed. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t try to see feelings where there are none.”

  “I know what I saw,” Mary insisted.

  “I know he loves someone else.”

  Mary’s eyes grew wide. “How do you know that?”

  “He told me . . . sort of. I mean, he said something that, oh never mind.”

  “Was this before or after he ‘yelled’ at you?”

  Emily decided it best not to answer that question. “After the milking, will you go into town with me?”

  “Jah,” Mary said immediately. “What do you want to do in town?”

  “I want to go by the library and look up some stuff on the computer.”

  Mary’s eyes grew impossibly wide. “On the Englisch computer?”

  “Are there any other kind?”

  “Nay . . . I mean . . . Dat will . . . Emily!”

  “It is for a gut cause,” she defended. “I want to check out some things.” She had been hearing talk of the Englisch Internet where anything and everything could be found. Like ways to help people who had suffered head injuries and problems with medications. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she just did: she needed to help James Riehl.

  “How are you going to work an Englisch computer?” Mary asked.

  “The librarian will help me, jah?”

  Mary shrugged. “I suppose. But what if Dat finds out?”

  “He’s not going to,” she said with confidence. “And you’re not going to tell him.”