Courting Emily (A Wells Landing Book 2) (25 page)

Elam had no sooner set the brake than
Mamm
flew out of the house. She had a dish towel thrown over one shoulder and a concerned light shining in her eyes.

“Emily, praise be, you’re
allrecht
. Dan Troyer called to say he saw your buggy on the side of the road with no horse or driver. I couldn’t imagine what had happened to you.” She wrapped Emily into a quick hug. “I’ve been worried sick and praying nonstop.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you.” She returned her mother’s embrace. “I guess Dan Troyer told you about the wheel?”

“
Jah,
your father took Mary and Susannah to go look at it, and I promised to stay here until you got home.” She turned to Elam. “Thank you, Elam Riehl, for bringing my Emily back home.”

He gave her a quick nod. “I’ll take Clover into the barn and get her settled.” He unhitched the horse and led her away.

Emily disentangled herself from her mother’s clingy arms. Normally
Mamm
was as calm and cool as they come, but with all the recent accidents and upheavals, her nerves seemed a bit rattled. “It’s okay,
Mamm
. I’m fine. Truly.”

Mamm
gave her one last squeeze and let her go. “Come on in the house. I’ll make some
kaffi
.”

But Emily shook her head. “I need to go talk to Elam.”

“Oh.
Oh
.”
Mamm
gave a sage nod. “Okay then.” She started back toward the house and out of the cold. “Just don’t take too long, okay?”

Emily smiled. “I won’t.”

Elam was sitting on a bale of hay just inside the door when she walked into the barn. It was almost the exact spot where Luke had been sitting just two short nights ago. Had it not even been forty-eight hours since her
vatter
had told Luke to leave? It seemed as if a lifetime had passed since then.

Ever the gentleman, Elam stood when he saw her, tossing away the random pieces of hay he held and dusting off his pants. “Emily.”

Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips and gave her hope. More than anything she wanted to save whatever she could between them.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she stuttered. Where were all the words she needed to tell him that she loved him?

“
Jah,
you said that much already.” He settled himself back down, crossed his arms over his chest, and eyed her suspiciously. Guarded. That was the best way to describe his demeanor. Not that she could blame him. They had been through too much. Yet she longed to wipe away the look of distrust and replace it with one of love and joy.

“I love you.”

He blinked those green eyes. “What?”

Gut himmel!
Could she find the courage to say it again? “I love you.”

He rose from his seat on the hay bale and started for the door. “Good-bye, Emily.”

She rushed after him, stopping him with a hand on his back before he could set one foot out into the new rain.

The muscles under her fingers bunched and jerked.

He shrugged her hand away and turned around to face her. “You don’t love me.”

His words cut her to the bone. “But I do,” she protested.

“
Nay
.” He sighed and propped his hands onto his hips. “You have always loved Luke Lambright. Now he’s gone for good, and I’m all that’s left.” He shook his head. “I thought I could compete with him. I had big hopes that one day you would come to care for me the way you do for him. I thought that was God’s will for us.”

Tears slid down her cheeks and dropped off the edge of her jaw.

“But I can’t be second. I love you too much for that.”

“You’re not second.” Her voice hitched on a sob. She wanted to reach out to him, show him that she loved him. He said he loved her. Surely there was still a chance for them. “I’ve made so many mistakes,” she said. “But this isn’t one of them.”

“It’s over, Emily. Luke’s gone, and I’m here, but I won’t be a poor substitute for what you really want.”

“You’re what I want,” she cried. “I love you.”

“You’ll never know how much I wish I could believe that.”

And then he was gone.

Sissy Hardin pressed her foot to the brake as she came around the tight corner. She was a city girl, born and raised, and these winding roads in the backwoods of Amish country were more than she had planned for. No wonder country folks took so long to get anywhere. They drove miles out of the way just in curves.

Beside her in the passenger seat her cell phone chirped, alerting her to a new message, but she ignored it. She had made the pledge to not text and drive, and there was no way she was chancing it on these unfamiliar roads. It was one of her friends, anyway, and that could definitely wait. It couldn’t be her father. He always picked up the phone and called.

She slowed even more as she neared the intersection. Before her was a stop sign that said WHOA and a telephone pole with a hand-painted sign announcing local honey and brown eggs. That was her turn.

She steered her car down the tiny dirt lane and flipped the heater up a little higher. She’d heard that it was colder in the country than in the city, and this trip just proved it.

If the directions the woman at the bakery had given her were correct, the third house on the left belonged to Luke Lambright. Or rather, it belonged to Joseph Lambright, Luke’s uncle.

She passed the first drive and realized the houses were farther back from the road than she’d expected and nearly miles apart. But she was diligent. She had to find Luke and set things right.

Her phone chimed again, and she resisted the urge to pick it up. No distractions or she’d miss the house altogether.

She passed the second drive and down this one she could see the white paint of the house through the trees in the yard. Off to one side was a field of bright green. Who knew things grew in the wintertime?

Drive number three was so narrow she almost missed it entirely. As it was, she jerked her car into the dirt lane and winced as the bottom of her car scraped the frozen ground. She pressed her foot back on the brake and held it there as she eased along the hard-packed lane.

She didn’t have far to drive before she saw the house. It seemed typical of the farmhouses in the area. The two-story structure was painted white and rambled in all different directions. The porch stretching across the front was dotted with a mix of lawn chairs and wooden rockers. A man sat in one of the chairs as if waiting for her to arrive.

He was Amish. Or at least she thought he was. He wore a plain black coat, over a blue shirt and black pants. His black hat had a wide brim and hid most of his face from her view. The bottom half was shaved smooth. Which seemed weird. Didn’t Amish men have beards?

She sure hoped she was in the right place. And if luck was on her side, he was Joseph Lambright, Luke’s uncle.

She pulled her car to a stop and got out. As she tugged on the tail of her shirt and the arms of her winter coat, the man stood.

“Hi,” she called. She waved to the man as she picked her way across the yard. She hadn’t exactly worn the right shoes for walking across a country lawn.

“Goedemiddag,
” he said in return. She had no idea what that meant, but he seemed harmless enough as he shuffled down the steps. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Luke Lambright.”

“
Jah?
” He tipped his hat back a bit and Sissy could finally see his eyes. They were stormy gray, but somehow they brought to mind Luke and gave her hope she was at the right house.

“My name is Sissy Hardin. My daddy owns a bunch of fried chicken restaurants.”

He studied her as she spoke, but didn’t interrupt. She took that as a sign to continue.

“Luke came to Daddy wanting him as a sponsor for a race car. But things sort of fell through.” Okay, so that wasn’t
exactly
what happened, but she was here to make things right and that was the most important thing, wasn’t it?

She shifted from one foot to the other, wondering for a second how much this man knew.

“Luke is not here.”

She didn’t try to hide her disappointment. She had driven a long way to find him. “Will he be home soon?”

The man shook his head. “
Nay
. He’s gone for good this time, I s’pose.”

“For good? But where did he go?”

“Back to the
Englisch
.”

Her eyes widened. “He went to England?”

The man laughed. “That’s what you are.
Englisch
.”

O-kay. “So he’s here?” She didn’t mean to play dumb, but she was seriously having trouble understanding him. And she so needed to make up for the mistakes she had made concerning Luke.

“He went to catch the bus back to Arkansas.”

She was too late.

The man looked to the sky and back to her. “If you hurry you just might catch him.”

She didn’t know what he saw in the sky, but she was hopeful.

“He’s in town then?”

“
Jah
.”

“Thank you,” she said, mincing back across the sparsely covered ground.

“Anytime,” the man said. “Anytime.”

 

 

Luke stretched his legs out in front of him and tried to look bored. He didn’t want anyone to think that he was excited or hurt or any of the number of emotions racing through him. He hadn’t wanted to leave Wells Landing. And he sure hadn’t wanted things to end between him and Emily like they had.

But it was too late for apologies. Too late to go back. Too late to wish for things to be different.

He stood and walked to the large plate glass window that looked out over the road. His ruse was not fooling anyone, not even him.

A big part of him, the part that was a born dreamer, was glad to be going back to Arkansas. But a huge chunk of his heart would always be in Wells Landing with Emily. He had loved her too long to stop now. Maybe one day . . .

A shiny red car eased down the road as if the driver wasn’t sure where they were going. As Luke watched, the car stopped, hung a quick turn, and disappeared into the side parking lot.

There was something vaguely familiar about the car, but he wasn’t sure why. He had been obsessed with cars for years now. Most probably the sleek lines and shimmering paint were what drew him in like a fly to honey.

“Luke?”

He turned to find Sissy Hardin standing near the door that led outside. Her blond hair billowed around her shoulders like a cloud of spun gold, her cheeks pink from the cold.

“What are you doing here?” He turned away from her. As nice as she was to look at, she had ruined everything for him. A fact he wasn’t forgetting anytime soon.

“Your uncle told me you were here.”

“In Oklahoma,” he clarified.

She started toward him, the keys in her hand clinking together as she came nearer. “Listen. I know you’re mad at me, and you have every right to be. But I came to make amends.”

“Amends?”

She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. “Here.” She thrust it toward him.

He took it, staring at her and the thick white envelope in turn. “What is it?”

“Five hundred dollars.”

“Five hundred—” He thumbed open the envelope to stare at the bills inside. “Why are you giving me this?”

She shoved her hands into her coat pockets and shrugged. “Because my father would have given you that and more if I hadn’t of—” She stopped and he didn’t miss the fact that she couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—well, the truth is I like you. A lot. I had seen you around the track, I just wanted to get to know you better. And then . . .” She shook her head. “I felt just awful.”

“
Jah?
”

“I know you needed that money. The other guys told me what happened with the wreck and . . . so I wanted you to have it.”

“Thank you.” He was humbled. What else was he supposed to say? In light of her apology, what else could he do but forgive her? The ability to forgive was one part of his Amish upbringing he hoped he never lost.

“I talked to my daddy and explained what happened.” She shrugged again. “I would have been here sooner, but he grounded me.” She made a face. “Anyway, he’s agreed to talk to you some more about a sponsorship. If you’re still interested.”

“Are you serious?” Hope surged inside him—hope for the dreamer, hope for the future.

“Yeah. He likes the way you drive.”

“Yeah?” He tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. Gus Hardin liked the way he drove.

“Me, too,” she added.

“That’s awesome.” He slapped the envelope containing the money against his leg, loving the
whack
it made.

“There’s just one more thing,” Sissy said. “Can you forgive me for what I did? I am terribly sorry.”

Luke smiled. She was just so pretty, how could a guy not forgive her? Still, he couldn’t make it
too
easy for her. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Give me a ride back to Van Buren?”

She smiled, and the world seemed a bit brighter. “You got it.”

Elam pulled his buggy back into the driveway at his house and just sat there for a moment. He’d turned the battery-operated heater off long ago, its hum nearly driving him to distraction.

Walking away from Emily a second time was the hardest thing he had ever done. Even harder than the first time.

He rubbed his eyes with one hand. If only he could believe her when she said she loved him. That was all he ever wanted. But he wasn’t willing to settle. He knew plenty of men who would, even more who
had
. But he couldn’t do it. He was an “all or nothing” sort of man.

With a sigh, he got out of the buggy and unhitched the horse. With heavy footsteps and an even heavier heart, he made his way to the barn.

He led the horse to his stall and grabbed the brush for a quick rubdown, his thoughts still whirling around inside his head like a swarm of angry hornets. He couldn’t catch any one, so he let them be, preferring instead to ignore them as he completed his task. Mindless. That was the best way to go. At least until he was ready to look at the situation with clear eyes. At the rate he was going, that would be never.

“Elam?”

His father’s voice pulled him out of his own misery. “Back here,” he called.

Footsteps shuffled in the hay, and then his father was there, a frown on his brow. “I didn’t expect you back so soon,”
Dat
said.

“Why not?” Elam finished the brushing and filled the horse’s oat trough.

“Thought you might stay and spend a little time with Emily.”

He knew his father well enough to know when the man was digging. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you and Emily and love,” his
dat
said.

Elam sighed when he wanted to howl in frustration. “Emily and I broke up,” he said as gently as he could manage. Still his voice was rough and rusty.

“But you are going to get back together again,
jah?
”

“
Nay
.”

“But she told me she loved you.” His
vatter
’s frown deepened until his entire face was involved.

“That seems to be the rumor.”

“And you love her,”
Dat
prodded.

“Is this conversation going somewhere?” This whole love thing was making him snippy.

“Did she or did she not tell you that she loves you?”

Elam really didn’t want to talk about it, but since his head injury his father seemed more determined than ever. He was like a bulldog who latched on to something and wouldn’t let go.
Dat
wouldn’t let this subject drop until he had all his questions answered.

“She told me she loved me.” A fist squeezed his heart as he spoke. How long had he wanted to hear those very words from her? How long had he waited for her to realize that he would do anything and everything he could to make her happy?

The Amish believed that everything that happened was a part of God’s will. Elam just didn’t understand why God thought he needed a broken heart.

“Then what’s the problem?” his
dat
asked.

“She loves Luke more.”

His father propped his hands on his hips. “What gave you that fool idea?”

“She’s always loved Luke.”

Dat
shook his head. “That doesn’t mean she loves him more.”

But it did.

Didn’t it?

“That
maedel
loves you,” his
vatter
continued. “Now what are you going to do about it?”

“There’s nothing to do.”

Dat
shook his head. “You mean you are just going to let her go?”

Elam shrugged, tired of the conversation. He didn’t want to forget about Emily nor could he accept her and what little she had to offer him. “
Dat,
you don’t understand.”