Bookends (49 page)

Jonas held his hand up. “Not so fast. The woman just said yes.”

Emilie shook her finger playfully. “But the woman is not getting any younger.”

His brows arched. “Are you saying you’re in a hurry?”

“I’m saying I can’t wait.”

A grin covered his face. “Name the day, pretty girl.”

She laughed and patted his chest. “August 13, then.”

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes, ignoring the crowd jostling around them. “Another historic Moravian anniversary, right?”

Grinning so broadly her cheeks hurt, she nodded. “So it is.”

As they both leaned forward to seal their plans with a kiss, the church bells began to toll the half hour, calling all to worship. Their lips touched briefly, then Jonas took her arm and led the way as the Fielding clan moved with the crowd heading toward the door and a glorious celebration of Easter.

When they came around the corner, Jonas saw him first.

Nathan.

He was standing a dozen feet back from the front door of the church. Waiting, it seemed. His expression was blank. His attire clean but casual, not chosen especially for Easter Sunday.

“Oh, Nate!” Emilie held her breath, not knowing what brought him there, fearing another painful confrontation to spoil the most amazing day of her life.
Selfish, Em! Just pray.

She watched Nate blanch, stepping back as all three brothers and assorted family members came sweeping around the corner then stopped, obviously as surprised as she was.

Jonas went forward first, arms outstretched. “Nate. Welcome.” She heard the elation in his voice, felt the eagerness in his stride as she hurried to keep up with him. “You managed to talk them into letting you out, eh?”

Nate nodded solemnly. “Looks like I’ll be doing some community service for a few weeks.”

Jonas nodded, clearly pleased. “Good, good.” He tipped his head toward the door. “You’ll join us this morning, then?”

“No. I just knew I’d find you here.” He looked down then, as if at a loss for what to say next. “Look, Jonas—” he glanced up, his skin ruddy—“I
have a pretty good idea what you did yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“That slip of paper is missing from my wallet. Unless I’m wrong, I think you paid my debt. In full.”

“Is that right?” Jonas’ smile was warm, without judgment, without pride.

Nathan’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “Jonas, you …” His voice was raw with emotion. “You saved my life, brother.”

“Someone did that for me once, Nate. I’m simply returning the favor.” He held out his hand. “Sure you won’t come to church with us?”

“I’m sure.” Nate stepped back, but Jonas snagged his elbow and pulled him forward.

“So be it. Another Sunday, maybe. Meanwhile, there are two guys and their families here who will take me apart limb by limb if I don’t let them get a shot at you.”

Jonas stepped aside as Chris and Jeff moved forward. Emilie eased closer to Jonas, swallowing hard.
Here come the Marines.
She watched their broad shoulders and muscular arms embrace Nathan, one by one, in a manly bear hug. None of them were crying, but none of the four brothers were dry-eyed either, Emilie noticed, sniffling herself.

Jeff spoke first. “Nate, you look … good. We’re glad you showed up today, brother.”

“Got that right,” Chris chimed in, punching his arm.

Nathan nodded, the set of his mouth firm. Too firm, like he was holding something in.

Help him, Lord.

But he said nothing, only listened as the twins brought forward their children for inspection, followed by a brief hug from Diane and a Texas-style squeeze from Connie.

Jeff reached out and tugged Jonas back into the fray. Since her arm was tucked in his, Emilie inadvertently stumbled into their circle as well. Jeff winked at her. “Heard about the newest addition to the family, Nate?”

Nathan’s eyes met hers. Steady, not blinking. “Congratulations, Emilie.” His volume dropped in half. “I’m … sorry … about Thursday.”

The lump in her throat wouldn’t budge. “Me too,” she managed to get out, hanging on to Jonas for support. “I … I wish you’d join us for church, Nate.”

“Not today. Another time, okay?”

She knew there would be no other time, could feel him pulling away from them, disconnecting.
Don’t let him leave, Lord!

“I gotta go.” He backed up, stepping right into Helen Bomberger’s path as she scurried up the walk toward the sanctuary.

“Oh!” Startled, the older woman abruptly stopped, her Easter bonnet knocked to the ground. Nathan’s face turned a brighter shade of red as he steadied her, brushing off her floral crown and handing it back to her with a slight apology.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, then turned back only long enough to say, “See ya,” before he straightened his shoulders and started down the sidewalk toward Main.

“Call me, Nate!” Jonas hollered above the chime of the church bells.

Nate didn’t turn back, only lifted his hand and kept walking. The three remaining brothers exchanged looks that spoke volumes—and decades—then gathered their families around them, even as Jonas pulled Emilie closer and slowly followed the crowd toward the narrow wooden doors.

He stopped on the church steps and tapped his brother on the shoulder. “Save us a seat downstairs, will you, Jeff?”

His younger look-alike shot him a knowing grin. “See you inside, brother,” he said with a chuckle, then disappeared through the doors.

Emilie, meanwhile, couldn’t stop watching Nate, separating himself from his family with every step. “What will happen to him?”

“I think God isn’t finished with Nathan Fielding yet.” Jonas gazed at the retreating figure for a moment, sighed heavily, then slowly turned back toward her, his features softening. “But he’s doing a mighty fine work in you, Emilie Getz.”

She basked in the warm glow she saw shining on his face, and touched his rough chin. “I had a good teacher.”

He grinned and kissed her finger. “Takes one to know one.”

“Oh, Jonas!” Her heart was so full she feared she might faint. “I can’t wait until you are my … husband.”

Husband!
The very word gave her chills.

His eyes darkened. “I can’t wait either.” He leaned against the sanctuary door, assessing her. “Come August 13, beloved, have you any thoughts about where you might like to set up housekeeping?”

She felt her eyebrows hit
V
formation in record time. “My house, of course.”

“That old place?” He winked. “How ’bout I bring my new curtains, at least?”

“No!” She ducked her head when an usher shot a stern look out their direction and dropped her voice to the faintest whisper. “My antique curtains are fine. You may, however, bring your Explorer.”

“Such a generous woman.” He tipped his head. “You’ll serve coffee for breakfast, yes?”

She nodded. “And tea. I expect you to feed Trix and the rest of our menagerie, though.”

“Deal. Long as you water the plants.”

“Humph.” Her chin jerked ever so slightly. “I thought you liked playing with dirt.”

“Mountains of dirt, not little clay pots. That’s your department.”

“Very well.” A more serious thought crossed her mind. “Speaking of departments, I suppose the folks at Salem will be able to get along without me.”

“Their loss will no doubt be Franklin and Marshall’s gain.” His grin was a lethal weapon. “I happen to know they have an opening. In the history department.”

“Oh?” She managed to sound nonchalant, even as her heart soared.
Thank you, Lord!
“That might be a good fit.”

He tapped her hat playfully. “Speaking of which, this bonnet of yours is a perfect fit.”

“You think so?” She lifted her hand to the brim and tried hard not to sound pleased as punch.

“I do. And underneath it is the most intelligent, beautiful, joy-filled woman I could ever want for a wife.”

Emilie laughed as the church bells chimed the quarter hour and, without a moment’s hesitation, tossed her hat into the fresh April air.

1. Emilie Getz describes herself to Jonas Fielding as “born Moravian.” How has her from-the-cradle upbringing in the church helped shape her character? Maybe
Bookends
served as your introduction to the Moravians and their many historical traditions. In what ways are their methods of worship similar to those in your own church, particularly at Christmas and Easter? And what practices seem uniquely Moravian?