The Calling of Emily Evans (7 page)
Emily made her way down the path to the team that Fred had hooked to her loaded buggy. The sun was just making its way up into the summer sky. Emily knew it was going to be another hot day, and she firmly placed her bonnet on her head.
With warm thanks to Fred and Agatha, she settled herself on the buggy seat, picked up the reins and clucked to the team of grays.They responded with eagerness and Emily felt a twinge of guilt, sure that the horses expected to be on their way home. At the end of the lane, Emily had to force the team to make a right-hand rather than a left-hand turn. They reluctantly responded to her tug on the reins. She waved one last time at Agatha, and then Emily was alone once more.
Emily felt refreshed and eager after her night’s rest. Her hands had been carefully washed and salved, and Agatha had even cut the feet from a pair of Fred’s heavy discarded socks and snipped holes in the remaining portion for Emily’s thumbs—a mitt of sorts to protect her from the wear of the reins. Emily wished she had thought of something like that before she left home.
The day grew hotter and hotter. Emily feared that even with the protection of her hat, she wouldn’t be able to endure the heat much longer. A breeze stirred just in time.
As she had the day before, she stopped to eat, this time much past the noon hour. She had been watching for a place to water her horses, but the ditches along the dusty road had been dry.
At last she spied a small pond. There were no sheltering trees nearby, but there was grass in the ditches. She guided her buggy off the road the best she could and climbed down. She was even more stiff than she had been the day before.
The horses, anxious to get to the water, were not too patient with Emily as she struggled with tugs and yokes. At last she separated the team from the buggy and led them carefully down the sharp incline to the edge of the water. The big mare was fairly cooperative, but Shadow, the gelding, lumbered forward and stepped on Emily’s heel enough to cause her pain. When she squealed and jerked the rein, he threw his head angrily into the air, almost knocking the unsuspecting girl into the pond.
The two horses drank deeply, at length both turning their interest to the grasses at the water’s edge. Emily tied each to a post and hobbled back up to the buggy to get the lunch Agatha had sent along. She was hungry. She was also thirsty. Even though the bottle of water Agatha had prepared was warm and uninviting, Emily drank nearly as long as the horses.
She removed her hat and pushed her hair back from her damp face to catch the full benefit of the afternoon breeze. Pulling her father’s map from her coat, she saw she still had a long way to go.
She packed up the remains of her lunch and placed it where she could easily reach it if she grew hungry again before arriving at her own small parsonage. She eyed the horses as they greedily pulled mouthfuls of the coarse grasses. They hadn’t been feeding very long, but, oh, she was anxious to be on her way. Her eyes went to the sky and to her dismay she saw large storm clouds boiling up in the west.
“Oh my!” she said aloud in alarm.“It looks like rain and here I sit right in the open! I don’t even have a rain cape with me.”
Rain was another thing Emily had not thought to prepare for.
She retrieved the team and hitched them hurriedly to the buggy while they switched angry tails and tossed defiant heads. But Emily paid no attention.
“We’ve got to hurry,” she said firmly to the balky team.“It’s going to rain and we are miles away from home.” She smacked the reins on their round rumps, and they moodily started down the road at a brisk trot.
The trot did not last long. Emily knew the team was as tired as she, and she didn’t have the heart to run them. They returned to a walk and Emily drove with one anxious eye on the sky.
The wind increased and Emily took another look at her map to be sure she was still on the right road. The impending storm didn’t seem to threaten the horses in any way. They trudged along just as carelessly as they had done in the heavy heat.
But Emily was fearful enough for all of them.The dark, scudding clouds looked as if they would soak everything that was in the buggy.
Emily cast furtive glances backward, trying to determine what was in each of the sacks and crates her father had packed.
She spotted bundles of sugar and flour. What use would they be to her if they got wet? She tried to think of some way to cover the supplies, but she could think of nothing. She began to pray, earnestly, fervently, for some divine intervention.
Just as the storm began to spatter angrily about Emily, she came around a bend and spotted a farmyard. Then for the first time she used the buggy whip, and the team started off at a brisk trot that Emily found difficult to control.
She did manage to direct the team into the yard, thankful that here was some help, but her relief was short-lived. The place was deserted. Tall grasses grew up around the buildings. Glass was missing from some of the windows of the aging house. Shingles flapped noisily in the tearing wind, and a large padlock held the door securely in place or it would have been flapping too. She knew immediately that no help would be found here.
She looked around and saw a sagging barn with a one-hinged double door and wondered if there was some way she could get the buggy in there and out of the storm.
It was hard work, but Emily at last managed to pull the huge door sufficiently open to fasten it back against the barn face.Then she tugged and pulled at its companion until she forced it open also.
She crawled back onto the now wet buggy seat and urged the team forward.There was just enough room to make it through the doorway. The horses were reluctant to enter the strange barn and snorted and sidestepped, but Emily would have none of their foolishness. She gave the gelding a sharp slap with the buggy whip, and his forward thrust encouraged the mare to follow.
Outside, the thunder rolled and crashed, and Emily prayed that the sagging barn would stay in one piece for the duration of the storm.
The horses restlessly complained about their unfamiliar surroundings. Emily decided she would unhitch the team and put them out to graze. The rain on their backs would bother the horses very little and they did need more grazing.
She struggled with Shadow and eventually unhooked him from the buggy. Star objected to her teammate leaving and tried to follow. Emily knew that she was going to have problems but spoke to the horse and hoped fervently that the mare would wait patiently until she returned for her.
The wind was whipping the heavy rain into lashing torrents now. Emily struggled against it to reach a fence where she could tie her horse securely. It would not do for Shadow to decide that now was a good time to head for home.
Against the wind and cold rain, Emily forced her way back into the gloom of the barn. Star had not been patient and, to Emily’s dismay, had tramped around until she’d managed to break the buggy tongue. Emily nearly wept when she saw the damage. What would she ever do now?
She untangled the horse and led her, too, out into the beating rain. She found another post near to Shadow and tied the mare securely.
Back in the barn, soaked to the skin and ready to cry, Emily realized the first thing that she needed to do was to get out of her sopping clothes and into something warm and dry. The storm had dropped the temperature significantly, and her fingers felt like icicles. She rummaged in the semidarkness and found her valise and a fresh change of clothing. She drew back into the shadows, stripped the clinging wet garments from her shivering body and hurried into the dry clothing. Then she pulled the blanket from under the buggy seat and folded it about her. She needed all the warmth she could get.
Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the barn, and she spotted a welcome pile of dry straw in the corner. She made her way to it and tried to make herself comfortable.
Just when she thought she might have found some measure of comfort, rain began to drip from the roof above her head. Emily changed her position and went through the settling process again.
Then she noticed a small stream of water falling directly into her buggy, and Emily jumped up to make sure the sugar bag or flour sack was not immediately under it. The sugar was threatened, so she shifted the sack to a drier spot.
Back she went to her post on the straw pile again. A few new drips had begun since she vacated the spot, and Emily wondered if there was any place in the building where she was safe from the rain.
She hugged the blanket about her. There were more blankets in her trunk, but she hated to haul them out in the dirty old barn. She shivered and bundled herself more closely. She would just wait out the storm and then be on her way.
But the storm did not pass quickly, and Emily became more and more concerned. Occasionally she went to the door and listened for the horses. She could hear them stomping and chomping, quite content to feed while the storm raged about them.
Emily, too, was feeling the need for nourishment. She went to the buggy and found the rest of her lunch. She was glad she had left some of it for later. She wouldn’t have known quite where to begin looking for a snack among the supplies in the wagon. Raw potatoes, ground flour, or bagged sugar did not have much appeal.
Emily ate the bit of lunch and still did not feel satisfied. If there were something to drink, she would feel much better. But the bottle of water had long since been exhausted.
Overhead the steady stream of pounding rain beat on the weathered roof.
“This is silly!” Emily said aloud.“All that water—and nothing to drink.” She took Agatha’s bottle and set it outside the door, hoping to collect enough rain to at least moisten her mouth and throat. Then she huddled down into the straw and tried to find some comfort from the cold.
She finally had to admit that the lack of daylight was no longer a result of the passing storm but because night was falling. Emily had never been brave in the dark. To be at home alone would have been one thing. To be in some old deserted barn was quite another. Emily was shivering now from far more than the chilly night air.
Again she went to the door and strained to look through the darkness to find the team. They were still there, feeding hungrily on the heavy grasses. Emily knew that she should remove the harnesses, but she could not bring herself to step out into the unknown blackness into the puddles and wet foliage.
With a shiver she realized that she was stranded for the night. Stranded with only moldy straw for a bed and no way to even lock the door against night prowlers. Emily had never spent a night in any kind of similar conditions before, and a knot of fear tightened her stomach.
My reading list surely didn’t prepare me for this,
she thought wryly.
In the distance an owl hooted and Emily shivered again. In the corner something rustled in the straw and Emily had to stifle a scream as she scrambled to her feet. It was just a mouse, she was sure, but Emily was no more willing to share her habitation with a mouse than with a bear.
With what little twilight remained, Emily began to rummage in her trunk until she felt the warm, coarse fiber of a woolen blanket.
Dirt or no dirt, I’ve got to get warmer,
she told herself. She managed to tug it from the rest of her belongings and climbed up into the buggy. While pushing and shoving bags and boxes to make herself some kind of resting place, Emily came across a piece of heavy fabric folded neatly in a square. Opening it up, she discovered a rain cape her father had thoughtfully provided.
I should have paid more attention—I’m sure he
told me about this,
Emily thought as she held the cape close to her heart and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She wrapped up in the blankets as snugly as she could and spread the cape over herself as she settled in for the night. It was not comfortable, but at least it was dry—for the moment—and she hoped it would be reasonably free from other occupants.
Some time during the night the rain stopped.Then the wind died down, and from her cramped position in the buggy, Emily was able to hear the creaking of the harnesses and the tramping of the horses. The sound brought some small measure of comfort. At least she was not totally alone.
“Of course I’m not alone, Lord,” she prayed.“Those were not just words I said to Papa—you really are here.”
When Emily at last dropped off to sleep, her body ached, her throat felt dry from breathing straw mold, and her feet were cold in spite of her blanket, but the fear had left her. She knew in spite of her difficult situation that God was with her—just as He had promised to be.
A loud crack awakened Emily from her fitful sleep. She lurched up, surprising herself at her cramped position in the front of the buggy. For a moment she couldn’t get her bearings, and then in a flash it all came back to her.
There was more commotion outside and Emily realized it was coming from where the horses were tethered.
She scrambled out of the buggy and ran to the door of the old barn. Shadow was causing the stir. He had exhausted the supply of grasses that he could reach on his short tether. In his greediness to feed on the rain-drenched grasses, he had managed to break the post and was now doing battle with a rickety fence. His halter rope still held him prisoner, for which Emily was thankful, but he had entangled himself in broken rails and rusty wire.
Emily ran forward, wondering how she was going to get the frantic horse and the broken fence free from each other.
“You think
you’re
hungry,” she scolded in frustration.“You’ve been feeding most of the night, but I’ve had nothing and—” But Shadow, still stomping and blowing, was in no mood to sympathize.
The horse needed to be quieted and the harness removed. Emily found this task most difficult, for the horse would not cooperate. At last she was able to pull the harness free and hang it on a portion of still-standing fence. Then she set to work trying to get the gelding to step through the broken rails and boards while she coaxed and urged him with tugs on the halter rope. He balked and snorted and dug in his hooves with each tug, finally backing up to the place where he had started.