To Love and to Cherish (7 page)

He stood and backed away. His first instinct had been correct. He shouldn’t have come.

Talk about cutting off her nose to spite her face. The box had been heavy. Why hadn’t she let Thomas carry it? What possessed her to act like that? Ever since her conversation with Annie over the laundry basket, Emma had been unable to think of Thomas without a needle prick of anger and a greater sense of loss at what he’d forfeited—for both of them. He hadn’t given them a chance. She hadn’t realized how much that chance might have meant to her until Annie had given voice to it.

Shaking her head as if that would clear the confused thoughts away, Emma dragged the box into the kitchen and hefted it onto the table. Most of the pieces had made it, thanks to Leah’s careful wrapping. Unfortunately, a platter and a gravy dish were victims of the crash. Mudder and Daed had given Luke and Leah the extra set of dishes after their marriage. She touched the platter. No use crying over spilt milk. Another useful maxim. She seemed to be full of them today.

“Is that platter broken?” Leah set a box of pans on the counter next to the gas stove. “How did that happen?”

“I…it…the box slipped.” Emma quickly laid the broken dish aside and rummaged through the other packages. “Only two broke. The rest are fine.”

Leah folded her hands over her expanding waist. It had become apparent in recent weeks that Luke and Leah were expecting another child. Emma tried hard to be happy for them. It was mean and small of her to feel that pinch of envy. She swatted the dark thoughts away. Joy came from knowing life was renewed even in the darkest days of loss.
Leah’s peeved expression erased the thought. “Your mother gave those to me. They can’t be replaced. How could you be so careless?”

“I—”

“Never mind. Let the others carry the boxes. You may unpack them.”

“I…you…” Did Leah think she was stepping into Mudder’s place?

Apparently so. She thought she would direct Emma now, like a mother or an older sister. She was neither. “This is not your—”

Thomas stuck his head through the door. He didn’t make eye contact, but something in the way he held his body told Emma he’d heard the exchange. “Leah, I just came to tell you again how sorry I am about dropping the box.”

Leah’s face suffused with color. “Thomas. Your apology’s accepted. They’re just plates.” A quick smile—barely qualifying as a smile—came and went. “We have plenty, with two households’ worth.”

Emma waited for an apology directed at her. None came. Leah went back to unpacking the pots and pans.

Thomas turned to Emma. “Could you please come tell us how you’d like the table and chairs placed?”

Leah’s head came up, but Thomas gave her no opportunity to intervene. He turned and slipped through the door. Surprised at his insight and pleased at how easily he made the point, Emma followed him into the dining room. They would have to place the two tables parallel, side by side, in order to have room for everyone to eat together. The men quickly arranged the furniture. Emma stood by and watched, unable to keep her gaze from sliding to Thomas. It was strange knowing something about him she shouldn’t. Annie shouldn’t have told her. It made things so awkward.

He moved quickly, lifting the tables and benches with little effort. He worked hard. He wasn’t so very old, really only a few years older than Luke.
Stop it
. The power of suggestion. That was all.

He looked up at her then glanced away, his ruddy complexion suddenly even ruddier. He turned to go. She scurried after him. “Thomas, wait.”

He did as she asked, but his gaze still didn’t meet hers. She hugged
her arms to her waist. She hated this. Why had Annie said anything? “Danki.”

He looked over her shoulder as if seeking escape. “Ask yourself why Leah is the way she is. There’s always a reason.” His voice sounded oddly harsh. “A loving heart can overcome anything.”

He touched the brim of his straw hat and slipped past her. At the door, he glanced back. “Just about anything.”

She opened her mouth, but he bolted without waiting for her response.

Emma clutched a tablecloth to her chest. His words resounded in her ears.

Just about anything
.

E
mma whipped through the kitchen, one arm wrapped around an enormous bowl of mashed potatoes. She needed a serving spoon. Where had it gone? She’d laid it on the cabinet only a minute before. Everyone sat in the other room, waiting for their midday meal, and she had lost a spoon. She turned to check the preparation table and nearly plowed into Leah.

“Careful! You almost made me drop the plate.” Her sister-in-law swerved to the right, a platter of fried chicken balanced between them. The serving spoon dangled from her other hand. “Why don’t you serve the potatoes before you spill them? The men must get back into the field as soon as they eat.”

Emma sputtered, then closed her mouth. The kitchen used to seem so big and airy with room for all of them to cook together, laugh, talk, and share their little secrets. In the days since taking up residence here, Leah had somehow shrunk it. “Sorry. I just needed a spoon.”

“I brought enough spoons to feed half the families in the district when we moved in.” Leah’s voice got louder as she marched from the kitchen. “Maybe you need to get the kitchen more organized. Come along, before the food gets cold.”

Emma tossed a glance at Annie, who was busy wrapping hot rolls in a clean towel and depositing them in a basket. “
I
need to
get the kitchen organized?” Emma whispered. “I unpacked almost everything!”

“Remember, she’s expecting. It probably makes her a little cranky. Especially when it’s so hot.” Even though her words were wise and true, Annie made a face and crossed her eyes. “Chin up. It will take a while for us to get used to living together, but we will.”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh at Annie’s funny face, just as her younger sister intended. Annie let things roll off her, like rain rolled from the leaves of an oak tree during a spring deluge. And she went out of her way to give people the benefit of the doubt. Emma needed to learn to do the same.
Thank you
. She framed the words without making a sound.

Annie grinned. “We’d better get in there.”

The tables were already laden with food—fried okra, corn on the cob, stewed tomatoes, cole slaw—a veritable feast. Most of it had been raised right there on the farm. It looked and smelled like home. They were blessed. Emma tried to remember that as Leah cleared a space, set the chicken down, and gave Emma a pointed look. She quickly added the potatoes.

“Are we ready?” Luke had his hands folded. “Time’s wasting. We’ve heard from a farmer down the road that a storm is expected. We need to bring the rest of the wheat in today. Helping the others harvest first has put us behind.”

Leah sank onto the bench next to Luke, then gave Emma and Annie another look. They scurried to their places and bowed their heads in silent prayer. After a moment, Luke cleared his throat and muttered, “Amen.”

Leah immediately popped up and began serving the children.

Emma sneaked a look at her brother. His skin glowed a burnt, ruddy hue from days spent in the blazing sun. He and the other men were taking turns bringing in the wheat crop. Yesterday they’d spent all day in Thomas’s fields, working late into the evening. This morning they’d risen before dawn to start on their wheat. Luke looked exhausted. But even as he chewed on a piece of chicken, his gaze followed Leah’s every
move. She
tsked
toward the children’s table. “Slow down. You’re not pigs, are you?”

Josiah made a tiny oinking sound. Mary and Lillie tittered. Leah’s face darkened. She clutched the bowl of okra to her apron and bore down on Josiah. “You can leave the table if you can’t set a better example for the children.”

Josiah chomped on an ear of corn, chewed, and swallowed. Butter left a greasy sheen around his lips. “You’re not my mother. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Josiah!” The anger in Luke’s voice cut the air like a finely honed ax. “Don’t be disrespectful to your sister-in-law.”

“Sister-in-law, not mother.” Josiah wiped his hands on his napkin and laid it on the table. His voice remained soft, almost monotonous. “Just like you’re not Daed.”

“There’s apple pie for dessert.” Emma laid her drumstick down, her hunger turning to a sick despair in the pit of her stomach. Meals had always been a happy time when Mudder and Daed were there. A time for sharing their days. Now the tension in the room enveloped them like a dark, dank fog. “Eat up before the food gets cold.”

Josiah slid off the bench and stood. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Sit. You’re not eighteen yet. Nor too old to be taken to the shed for a whipping.” Luke rose. He had four inches and twenty pounds on his brother. Always the mild-mannered one, now he seemed to seethe with anger at the slightest provocation. “You and I have things to talk about after we finish eating.”

His gaze swept over Annie, Catherine, and Emma. “Eat, all of you. Then you may go back to your chores.”

Josiah seemed to hesitate for a second, but finally sat down.

The fury in Luke’s eyes dissipated and he returned to his seat. He inclined his head toward Leah and she slipped back into her spot next to him. He picked up his fork and began to eat. The others did the same. No chatter. No giggling from the twins. No recounting of the morning’s work.

Emma fought the urge to lay her head on the pine table and cry. She
took a bite of the hot, buttery roll. It tasted like sawdust in her mouth. How could they go on like this? Would this be their life from now on?

The minutes dragged by until finally Luke wiped his mouth, drank the last of his water, and cleared his throat. “Cousin Caleb has agreed to take over the operation of the blacksmith shop.”

Emma looked up with a bright smile. Good news. For once, good news. “That’s wonderful. That means it’ll stay open and in the family.”

Luke straightened the dirty knife and fork on his plate, then crisscrossed them. “The district needs the shop. Caleb apprenticed with me before he decided he was needed on his father’s farm. Now that his brothers are older, he can get away. He can handle the shop until Josiah takes over. He’s willing to apprentice Josiah and give him a small salary.”

“Me?” Josiah’s fork, loaded with mashed potatoes, stopped halfway to his mouth. “I told you I want to farm!”

“You’ll start your apprenticeship as soon as we finish with the harvest.” Luke pushed his plate away. “Until you turn eighteen, I’ll be making the decisions. Daed left me in charge. I’m your legal guardian now.”

Disbelief danced with anger across Josiah’s face. Tendrils of empathy grew and wrapped themselves around Emma’s heart. Josiah was only seventeen and so sure that what he sought could only be found elsewhere.

If Carl had talked to him about his time away, Josiah hadn’t mentioned it to her. What was Carl waiting for? “It’s only for a while, Josiah, not forever. If you want to do something else later—”

“Don’t fill his head with silly dreams.” Leah intervened. “It’s time he grew up and carried his share of the burden around here.”

“He’s worked hard during the harvest.” Emma wanted to say something to wipe the look of despair from her younger brother’s face. “He’s carried his weight.”

“You don’t have to defend me.” His expression mutinous, Josiah slammed his fork on his plate. “If you think I’m not doing my part, I’ll go.”

“No, you won’t. Everyone needs to do more if this farm is going to sustain the family.” Leah patted her stomach. “It’s a growing family, and the economy is bad. If we don’t have a good harvest, we could lose—”

“That’s enough, Leah.”

A look passed between Luke and his wife. A look that demanded her acquiescence. Leah’s gaze dropped to her plate. Fear made a hard lump in Emma’s throat. “What is it? Are we going to lose the farm?”

Luke shook his head. “No. You know our family and friends wouldn’t allow that to happen. The money Josiah will earn at the shop will help cover the cost of running the farm, that’s all. I don’t want to be a burden to the others.”

Catherine’s face crumpled, showing emotion for the first time in a long time. Emma reached for her hand, but her sister quickly withdrew it. “The farm’s losing money?”

“The price of wheat is down.” Luke’s expression said he didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “All our costs are up.”

The screen door slammed. A second later, Thomas rushed into the room. “Beg pardon for the interruption.” His gaze caught Emma’s, and his face turned red as a radish. He ducked his head. “We need to get the rest of your wheat in. The storm is close. An Englisch man from near Pottersville stopped by the produce stand. He said it’s been raining up there since yesterday.”

“Josiah, Mark, let’s go.” Luke stood. “Bring supper to the field this evening, Leah. We’ll stay out until we’re done or it storms—whichever comes first.”

His gaze traveled around the table, stopping at Emma. “Everything is fine.”

Emma forced herself to nod.

The men tromped from the room. Josiah trailed after them, his head down.

Fine was indeed a relative term.