Courting Emily (A Wells Landing Book 2) (23 page)

The bishop stopped before reaching the porch steps. He stroked his beard and squinted as he faced the midmorning sun. “I prayed all night for God to give me answers.”

“Did you get them?” He knew he was being insolent, rude even, but he had taken a tongue lashing the night before, and he wasn’t willing to do so again. He and Emily had done nothing wrong. He had apologized for the wreck and all the trouble he’d caused. Couldn’t her father see past it all to the fact that he loved Emily more than anything in the world?

He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on the man before him.

“Luke Lambright, you have reached the age of baptism.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Instead he nodded and crossed his arms, waiting for the bishop to continue.

“You’ve left our community for the pleasures of the
Englisch
world, and now you’ve come back. As the bishop here, I must say it’s time for you to bend your knee and join the church.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then I’ll ask you to go back to the
Englisch
or into another district. The teens entering
rumspringa
have enough temptations. You are not setting a
gut
example.”

Luke stiffened. He had been afraid it would come to this. What was he going to do? “I’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

“Luke—”
Onkle
started, but Luke shook his head to stop his words. He had made his decision long ago. Regardless of everything that had gone wrong for him in the
Englisch
world, he could not remain with the Amish.

The bishop issued a curt nod. He turned on his heel to leave, then stopped. Facing Luke once again he said, “And I’ll thank you to steer clear of my
dochder
.”

As he watched, the bishop swung himself back into his buggy and set his horse into motion. Luke remained on the porch, not moving until the bishop’s buggy disappeared down the road. Then he collapsed into the old lawn chair his
onkle
kept on the porch.

“Are you really leaving again?”

He had almost forgotten his uncle was there.

“
Jah,
” Luke said as
Onkle
made his way around the house and eased down onto the middle step.

Joseph Lambright stared out at the pasture as if it held the answers to all life’s problems. “I tried my best all these years to do right by your parents—”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

He waved a hand as if to brush away Luke’s protests. “I could have done a better job. Looking back I see that. What can a bachelor offer his brother’s child?” He shook his head.

“This is not your fault.”

“It is,” Joseph said. “If I had only done more for you.”

“You took care of me after my
eldra
died,” Luke said, his voice suddenly thick with tears. “A
bu
can’t ask for more than that.”

“If I had done more,” Joseph continued as if Luke hadn’t spoken, “then maybe you wouldn’t be leaving.”

“
Nay
.” But the truth was, they would never know. Joseph had been ill-prepared to care for the young son of his recently deceased
bruder
. But as the next of kin, the burden had fallen to him.

Luke couldn’t complain. He had been grateful not to have to leave Wells Landing. His uncle had done the very best for him that he knew how. Perhaps there were times when he wasn’t strict enough or stern enough, but Joseph was too easygoing to hold Luke accountable. Still, Luke had been loved, and that was enough.

Joseph stood, his knees popping with the motion. He turned back to Luke, his eyes full of hope and sadness. “You be careful out there among the
Englisch
.”

Supper time and Emily’s
vatter
still hadn’t said more than two sentences to her. They had worked in the milking room side by side in complete silence, then trudged into the house to eat. The atmosphere around the table was strained at best. Everyone looked to the others to see who was going to cave first. Who was going to initiate the conversation from which there was no return?

After they ate and prayed again, Emily helped her sisters clean the kitchen, then went to find her father. Enough was enough. Time to get it out into the open. The thought of confronting her father made her a little sick to her stomach, but she couldn’t let him go around believing the worst in her, believing the worst in Luke.

She pulled on her coat and went in search of her
dat
. She found him on the porch smoking his pipe. The habit was sporadic at best since her mother frowned upon it. That he was smoking now was a testament that he was just as upset as she was.

“
Dat?
”

“
Jah?
”

She could barely make out his face in the dim porch light. He had lit a lantern on the table behind him, but his expression was hidden. Only when he took a draw on his pipe did the shadows disappear enough for her to see his eyes.

“About last night . . .” She drew her coat a little tighter around her.

“It is done, Emily Jane.”

“What do you mean?”

“Luke is leaving Wells Landing.” His tone was unreadable, flat and matter-of-fact.

Her heart gave a painful lurch as her stomach tightened. “Why?” she whispered.

“Because I asked him to.”

Her knees trembled even as her teeth wanted to chatter in the cold. But it wasn’t that chilly. “Why would you do something like that?”

“It’s not your place to question my judgment. I did so as the bishop of this district.”

“You did it out of spite.” The words flew from her mouth unheeded.

He stood and in an instant loomed over her. “I’ll not have my authority questioned, Emily Jane. I did what was best for the community.”

Hot tears stung her eyes. “You never liked Luke.”

“I do not like what he has done.”

“We weren’t doing anything wrong. I’ve been trying to get him to stay and join the church.” The tears she had been fighting spilled down her cheeks. She dashed them away with the back of her uncasted hand and continued. “And you ruined it.”

Her father took a step closer, his eyes steely. “What’s done is done. We will not speak of it again.” He pushed the words through gritted teeth, the closest she had ever seen him to yelling.

But she wanted to yell, to scream and stomp around. Luke was one of the best friends she had ever had and her father had sent him away. Just like that. He hadn’t given him a chance to join the church or even think about it.

She opened her mouth to say more, but no words would come. Not even a squeak. She pivoted on one heel and stormed back into the house.

“Emily?” Mary sat on the sofa working on some sewing, but Emily didn’t acknowledge her sister’s concern.

Instead she stormed up the stairs and slammed her door shut. With a decisive click, she locked the door and threw herself on her bed. Then and only then, with her face pressed into the pillow, did she let go of her sobs, her screams, and her overwhelming frustration with it all.

Elam, her father, Luke, everyone thought they knew what was best for her, yet no one knew what she was going through, nobody bothered to ask how she felt about it.

A soft knock sounded on her door followed by “Emily?”

Mary.

“Go away,” she said, knowing the words would hurt her sister but unable to face her care and concern.

“Will you not open the door for me?”

“
Nay
. I—I need some time alone.”

“I understand,” Mary said. “But I don’t think you should be by yourself at a time like this.”

Emily rolled over and stared at the plain white ceiling above her bed. That was her life: plain, white. All her life had been plain and white. The entire Amish existence: plain and white.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Mary. Maybe later.”

A small thump sounded, and Emily imagined her sister resting her head against the plain varnished wood of the door. “I will leave you only if you promise to come to me when you are ready to talk.”

“I promise.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes at her sister’s concern. But these were silent.

“
Ich liebe dich,
” Mary said.

Emily let the tears fall from the corners of her eyes. “I love you, too.”

 

 

For once Emily was grateful that she had a room to herself.

She could hear her sisters moving around their rooms, getting ready for bed and such. They were talking in hushed tones she couldn’t understand. Mary must’ve told them about her request to be left alone. No one laughed out loud, no one knocked on the door to talk to her.

Then it was time for bed, and the house grew quiet.

Emily flopped over once again, unable to bring herself to get up and actually ready herself for bed.

Why had her father done that? Why had he asked Luke to leave without even talking to her once about it?

He hadn’t asked. He hadn’t taken the time to find out the truth.

She had worked so hard to get Luke to open up to her. He was so close to giving up his crazy dream of driving a car and instead joining the church where he belonged.

She needed to talk to him. Now. Right now.

She sat bolt upright on her bed. She would go to him.
Jah
. She would go over to Luke’s house, convince him to stay for a while longer, give his Amish upbringing another chance.

She jumped to her feet, straightening her clothes as her mind whirled in a dozen different directions.

A soft knock sounded on her door. She stopped, sure she had imagined the sound. But there it was again.

“Emily.”
Mary.

She crossed to the door and cautiously opened it.

“I heard you moving around,” Mary said.

Emily pulled her into the room and quietly shut the door behind them.

“You’re not ready for bed.”

“I’m going to talk to Luke.”

“You think that’s a
gut
idea? I mean
Dat
will be upset.”

“Mary, really. He’ll be furious. But he’s already mad, so what do I have to lose?”

“Don’t go,” Mary pleaded. “Wait until tomorrow.”

Emily moved toward her sister, giving her a quick squeeze. “It’s not like I’m cutting my prayer
kapp
strings or anything.”

Mary was reluctant to let her go. “Please, Emily.”

Emily stopped, her sister’s tone cutting her straight through.

“It’s dark outside. If you wait till tomorrow you can take a buggy. You’ll be so much safer. I could go with you.”

Her urgency deflated in the face of her sister’s arguments. She sank to the edge of the bed beside Mary. “What if he’s already gone?”

“He won’t leave that quickly.”

“You’re probably right. Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll wait until tomorrow.”

Mary smiled through her tears. “
Danki,
sister. It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”

Emily felt stiff and conspicuous as she went through her morning chores. As much as she wanted to speed through them and hustle out the door, she had to bide her time.

The skies were gray and dull, promising rain and reflecting her mood. Maybe she should have gone last night. But Mary was right. She would be much safer in the light of day.

She felt terrible about deceiving her
mamm
and
dat
once again, but she had to take one last chance to save Luke from the perils of the
Englisch
world. She should have done more to make him stay the first time. She would have, had she known it would come to this.

Once the milking was complete, chores done, and the family fed, Emily hitched up the smaller buggy under the guise of visiting with Caroline. She gathered a basket of goodies and prayed that no one asked her friend how she liked the cheese bread.

“I’m leaving now,” Emily called as she headed for the door.

“Okay,”
Mamm
called back. “Give Caroline my best.”

Guilt panged inside her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?” Mary asked as the sisters made their way to the front yard where the horse and buggy waited.

“I’m sure. This is something I need to do by myself.” She didn’t add that it was best Mary not involve herself in case their
dat
found out.

“
Geb acht,
” Mary said. Be careful.

“I will.” Emily smiled at her sister and set the horse into motion.

 

 

“I’ve got a little money put away.”
Onkle
Joseph wrapped his hands around the coffee mug and lifted it to his lips.

“I don’t want to take your money.” Luke took a sip of his own
kaffi,
using its warmth as a balm to his spirit. He never thought he’d find himself where he was now, caught between two worlds. “I’ll figure something out.” He didn’t know what, but he’d think of something. Eventually.

He had spent a long sleepless night trying to figure out what. He had no money, no sponsor, no job. His future seemed so bleak, he actually considered staying in Wells Landing and joining the church. How crazy was that?

His
onkle
stood and retrieved a coffee can from the top of the refrigerator. He popped off the top, then pulled a wad of bills from inside. “It’s the least I can do.” He placed the money on the table and nudged it toward Luke.

“
Danki,
” Luke managed to squeeze past the lump in his throat. He wanted to push the money back, tell his uncle that he’d be fine. But he was only kidding himself. He wasn’t able to say more as a knock sounded.

“Who could that be this time a’morning?” His uncle set the coffee can on the table and made his way to the door.

But Luke wasn’t prepared for who stood on their porch. “Emily?”

His uncle stepped to the side as Emily made her way into the house. “I’m so sorry about my
vatter
.”

He stood as Emily rushed to his side. “It’s all right, Em.”

His
onkle
looked from one of them to the other. He took a step back, then started out the door. “I’ll just go see to your horses.”

“
Danki
,
Onkle
.”

Emily murmured her thanks, and the two of them were alone.

“I was afraid you would leave without coming by,” she said.

Hope rose in his chest. Maybe all of his nights going to Emily’s house, wooing her while everyone was asleep were about to pay off. “
Jah?
”

“My
vatter
should have never come to you.”

Luke shrugged. “I’m not going to worry about it.”

“But . . .”

“Listen.” He took her hands into his own. “I love you, Emily. But I have to leave. And this time, I want you to come with me.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and she shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I want you to come with me,” he repeated. It was simple enough. “We can get married like the
Englisch
and live out our days together.”

“But . . . but I don’t want you to go.”

She had such a big heart, just another of the reasons he loved her so. “I wish it was that simple,” he said. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, show her how much she meant to him, but he held back. Something in her eyes kept his touch at bay.

“It is. Just be patient. I know you can convince
Dat
that you have sincere intentions.”

Sincere intentions?
“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you, joining the church.”

He scrubbed his hands down his face. “Why would I do that when you’re coming with me?”

“To the
Englisch
.
Nay
. And neither are you. You need to stay here,
jah?
”

They were going in circles. “Is that what all of this has been about? Getting me to stay?”

“And join the church,
jah
.” A frown puckered her forehead. “What did you think it was about?”

“Me and you.” He reached out then, gently fingered the side of her prayer
kapp,
a constant reminder of all that separated them. “Just think about it.” He lowered his tone and reached for the pins that held her
kapp
in place. “We can be together, like we always talked about. Just the two of us. Without the church or your
dat
there to stand between us.”