Never Far From Home (The Miller Family 2) (35 page)

“Jamie—”

He didn’t let her finish. “Ma, I gotta go. I have things to do, but I’ll see you tomorrow after my last class.” He hung up before she tried to change his mind.

After the call he was able to study and sleep like a baby. Tomorrow afternoon he would hold in his hand words from Emma—whose sweet face and gentle ways were never off his mind.

James had only the one-hour drive to Charm to believe things were still good with his young girlfriend. Only one hour to imagine what interesting tales Emma would share with him. He still tried to come up with possible reasons for her frosty behavior but came up empty. With the last of autumn leaves swirling in the breeze, he arrived at the entrance to Hollyhock Farms. Driving slowly up their road, he saw no people bustling about as they often did during the summertime, only horses, cows, and sheep—the sheep that had become dearer since he’d met Emma.

Mom and Dad were sitting at the kitchen table when he pushed open the door. Mom sipped her afternoon tea while his father savored a cup of coffee.

“Jamie, welcome home,” his mother said, greeting him with a smile.

“I’ve only been gone a few weeks. You couldn’t have missed me yet.”

“That’s more than enough time. How goes it, son?” Dad asked. “How are your classes?”

“Not too bad.” James shrugged off his coat and hung it on a peg.

“Pull up a chair and tell us all about it.” His father looked intrigued.

“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes,” Barbara added. “We’re having your favorites—fried chicken, creamed corn, and coleslaw.”

James looked from one parent to the other. They both wanted him to succeed so badly. “Give me just a few minutes, and then I’ll divulge the exciting news from Wooster land lab,” he teased, “but first I want to read Emma’s letter.”

“We’re not going anywhere, son.” His dad picked up the newspaper.

James ran up the steps two at a time. He found the letter where his mom said it would be, read his name and address—twice—and then ripped open the envelope.

Dear James,

I must apologize for my rude behavior on your school campus. You went to a lot of trouble, and it probably seemed unappreciated. I must confess the fancy world made me uncomfortable. Although I have enjoyed our outings together and have treasured our friendship, I do not wish to turn English. Your world isn’t for me. I don’t want to dishonor my parents, and I am afraid to leave my faith. So I think it would be best if we no longer see each other and I start courting Amish fellows. I wish you much success with college, and I hope nothing I said last Friday will discourage you from getting your degree.

Your friend,

Emma Miller

Your friend, Emma Miller?
This was the girl he had proposed to—the one he wished to pledge himself to for the rest of his life. And she referred to herself as a friend…a companion for horseback riding, canoeing, and Swiss Cheese Festivals? But it seemed that now that she wanted a serious beau, she would look only among the Amish.

He felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. He wanted to cry but wouldn’t allow himself. He was a grown man, not a spoiled little boy. Instead, he reread the flowery sheet of stationery three times to make sure he didn’t miss a detail that would clear up his confusion.

Five or ten minutes passed, yet no rational explanation arrived. Vacillating between anger and sorrow, James tucked the letter into his sock drawer and trudged downstairs. Apparently, his disappointment was written across his face.

“Oh, dear, Jamie. Bad news from Miss Miller?”

“You could say that,” he said, slumping into a chair.

“What happened, son?” Dad asked. His forehead furrowed with concern.

“Emma broke up with me—just like that, without a reason other than the English world wasn’t for her.” He couldn’t look at either parent—not his dad, for fear his weakness would be all too apparent, and not his mom, for fear he’d see some sign of relief. So James stared at the rooster wall clock, whose silly face failed to cheer him up.

“She’s very young, Jamie. I’m sure she’s simply not ready for serious commitment.” His mother spoke without a trace of satisfaction in her voice.

“I love her, Mom. I love Emma. I thought she felt the same. And Amish girls get serious around this age or at least start courting. That’s all I wanted for right now. We have a lot in common, despite the fact I’m English.”

The rooster on the wall marked the passage of time as three people tried to find the right words to say.

“Don’t get too upset, Jamie. Your ma and I had plenty of rocky patches before we took that stroll down the aisle,” Dad said, trying to lift his spirits.

“I’m willing to work out rough patches. I don’t like the part where she won’t see me anymore and wants to court Amish guys.” Unfortunately, James’ voice rose in intensity while anger welled from deep within.

James Davis Sr. looked to his wife.

His mom stared at her hands for a minute before meeting his eye. “You say that you love this girl. And I believe that you do. But when you love someone, sometimes you have to put their best interests ahead of your own. Emma may have fallen in love with you too, but she might not be ready to disappoint her family and face shunning from her community. Everything that Emma knows in this world would be lost to her.”

James slicked a hand through his hair. “You’re saying her family would disown her if she married me? That doesn’t sound very Christian.”

“They wouldn’t disown her exactly. Their actions would be more along the lines of ostracizing her. They believe they must maintain separation from the modern world in order to obtain salvation. They see the tremendous amount of sin, temptation, and evil in our English world and want no part of it. The main difference between their Christian faith and ours is they believe we can never feel
assured
of salvation, but must walk the narrow path until the moment of our death. They would ostracize Emma to protect the family from falling away from Amish ways. Do not judge them, son. We are all struggling to maintain a lifestyle acceptable in God’s eyes.”

“So there’s nothing I can do?” he asked, recognizing hopelessness when he saw it. “If I convince her that I love her and wish to make her happy, and if she marries me…she might grow to resent me if she can’t find contentment being English. Everything will be lost to her.” He slumped in the chair and hung his head.

“There are two things you can do,” Barbara said, walking to the oven. She pulled out the pan of fried chicken. “You can give her time to sort things out while you finish your studies. Keep your mind busy while she has a chance to grow up. She may see things differently in a year or two.” Barbara emptied a jar of corn into a saucepot and turned on the stove.

James folded his arms and tried to calm down. “What’s the second thing?” he asked. “You said two.”

His mom looked at him with eyes full of compassion. “You can pray. If it’s God’s will for you to be together, nothing can stand in the way. But if God has other plans for you or for her, then trying to win her will only result in heartache. For the time being, give it up to the Lord and pray that He watches over your little Emma.”

James felt his face grow hot and his scalp start to tingle as emotions rose to the surface. His mom’s empathy clutched at his heart. This wasn’t the resolution he’d sought, but he knew she was right. He inhaled a deep breath and said, “I’m going out to the horse barn for a while so I can think. I’ll eat later, if that’s okay.”

With a nod from both parents, he rose and headed for the door. “Thanks, Mom,” he mumbled.

If he had stayed longer or had tried to speak louder, they would have found out that a small Amish girl from Winesburg had brought him to his knees.

H
annah awoke the day after Thanksgiving at dawn. She washed and dressed as quickly as she could and hurried downstairs. Her dear Seth had already started breakfast. The smell of frying bacon failed to whet her appetite as it usually did, but after seeing that he had fixed a pot of cinnamon oatmeal, she relaxed. No way would she get into a moving vehicle with an empty stomach again, not after her experience on the way to Wooster.

“Guder mariye,”
she said upon reaching the kitchen. “Am I later than usual? Or are you an especially early bird today?”

“The latter,
fraa
. I wanted to make sure you ate a hearty meal before your trip to Canton. You arrived home green around the gills from your last outing with Emma.”

She peeked into the pot. “You sliced up bananas into the oatmeal? Just how I like it!
Danki,
Seth.” She wrapped an arm around his waist.

He buzzed a kiss across the top of her head. “You’re welcome, but tell no one what you have seen this morning. I don’t want to ruin my reputation among Amish men.”

Hannah laughed as she poured a cup of coffee, but she also knew there was truth to his jest. Amish men seldom attempted domestic chores.

Seth took the remaining bacon from the pan with tongs. “Sit down and start eating, Hannah. I’m going out to see what’s taking Phoebe so long in the henhouse.”

He disappeared before she could volunteer to go, so Hannah settled into a chair with her bowl of cereal and contemplated the second trip in a month with her niece.

Julia was worried about her daughter. Ever since Emma wrote to young Davis to terminate their friendship, the girl had done nothing but work. If she wasn’t in the herb shed or loft, she was baking or sewing or cleaning house. And if she ran out of tasks, she would read the Bible curled in a chair close to her
mamm
. She never left the farm except for preaching services. And Simon had noticed that his eldest was losing weight.

Emma was brokenhearted, even if she didn’t admit it.

Mrs. Dunn’s invitation to attend a giant craft fair in downtown Canton couldn’t have come at a better time. The two-day exposition would give them a chance to sell handmade woolens and wreaths at good retail prices. And sleeping in a hotel and eating in restaurants might provide enough change of scenery to boost Emma’s spirits.

Hannah had broached the subject yesterday during the family turkey dinner. Simon readily agreed to the
Rumschpringe
trip. Julia and Leah both gushed with excitement about staying overnight. However Emma’s reply had been, “Okay, Aunt Hannah, if you think we can sell some crafts.”

Not exactly bubbling with enthusiasm
, Hannah thought while packing her overnight bag. She didn’t like leaving her family even for one night, but they would be fine. It was Emma who needed her. And Hannah wanted to help.

Because Seth had packed her saleable woolens the night before, they were able to leave for Simon’s right after breakfast. Phoebe came along for the ride and to visit her cousins. Within half an hour of Mrs. Dunn’s arrival, Hannah and Emma had loaded their goods inside the large paneled van, and they were on their way.

Emma seemed happy enough. Although Mrs. Dunn did most of the talking, Emma explained her ideas on how to set up the booth. After they reached the convention center, they were so busy hauling, unpacking, and arranging stock that no one had time to mope. The craft fair proved hectic but rewarding. Emma was paid plenty of compliments on her workmanship, and all three ladies earned more than they had hoped by day’s end.

Emma said little during dinner, and once back to their hotel room she seemed only interested in slipping on her nightgown and going to bed.

“Come look, Emma,” Hannah called. “I made us hot chocolate in the micro-oven. Audrey explained how to do it. Let’s sit at the little table and talk for a minute.” Hannah heated the beverage to near scalding to prevent quick consumption.