To Love and to Cherish (13 page)

“A Plain man wants a woman who is a good mother and a hard worker. A good wife. Such a woman is beautiful in his eyes. You are both. No Plain man would have it otherwise.”

Emma bent over the bucket to hide her embarrassment at the frank nature of the conversation. “Will you make sure we have enough markers? I can’t remember what I had left at the end of the school year.
I’ll make a trip to town next week for supplies.” Her stomach heaving, she began to scrub.

“I’ll do that right now.” Helen’s voice trembled. “I’ll start a list for you.”

Another heart that ached from loneliness. A heart that had much in common with Thomas. Both were hard workers. Both were good parents. Both had lost spouses in their primes. Both suffered from loneliness. Perhaps they were meant to be together.

Emma scrubbed harder. Her fingers, her shoulders, and her back ached. Still, she scrubbed harder.

Thomas smacked the nail. Why, every time he saw that woman, did all sensible thought flee? He smacked the nail again.

“You’ll break the board, you keep that up.”

He straightened and slid his hat back so he could see. Luke stood over him, the sun a halo behind his head. Thomas put a hand to his forehead to shade his eyes. “Just making sure it’s not a tripping hazard or going to hurt the children’s feet when they come barefoot.”

Luke nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. “Instead of pounding on a nail, maybe you should find out what’s what.”

Thomas froze. He tried to think of a correct response. None came.

Luke tugged at a shirt soaked with sweat. He frowned. “Wait too long and someone else will step in.”

He clomped down the stairs and walked away.

Grunting, Thomas swung the hammer again. Everyone seemed to need a say in his personal business these days. It was private. Between him and Emma. Only there was nothing happening between them. Not yet, anyway. Thomas fished his handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped sweat from his face. He was too old for this. Eli dashed past him. “We’re going to play baseball, Daed, as soon as the chores are done.”

Rebecca followed, three little girls her exact size skipping alongside
her. Lillie and Mary trailed behind them, ever the tagalongs. “We want to play, too,” Rebecca called, without slowing. “Is that all right, Daed?”

“When the chores are done and we’ve eaten.” He tapped the hammer on the nail, even though it was so securely in place, it would never move again. “Eli, sweep the porch. Rebecca, there are jobs to be done inside. Take Lillie and Mary with you. They can help dust the windowsills and the desks.”

Eli ran a wide circle and looped around to the broom that leaned against the side of the building. Rebecca screeched to a halt. In a more sedate manner, she trudged up the steps. The other girls followed, still giggling, their bare feet making a slapping sound on the rough wood.

He might be old, but Eli and Rebecca weren’t. Thomas laid the hammer in his box, practiced breathing for a minute, then followed them inside.

Emma knelt scrubbing the floor, a bucket of soapy water, now dark with dirt, next to her.

Thomas moved toward her. Helen Crouch bustled in front of him, her chubby hands flapping. “Thomas, more wood will be needed for the stove.” As usual, she said the words so quickly they ran together. “Will you bring some in and stack it in the wood box? That will save Emma time and effort when winter finally does come.”

“That is a good thought, Helen. You’re always thinking ahead.” Thomas smiled at her. On more than one occasion, she’d shown herself to be a caring, thoughtful person. He wished he felt more inclined toward her. Her load was heavy. “I would be happy to do that.”

“I try to be helpful. My husband…well, George used to say I was the most organized person he’d ever known.” Her gaze dropped. “Of course, now that I’m raising the children on my own, I have to be even more organized. I’m sure that’s something you and I have in common—among other things.”

“My sisters and my mother make sure I stay organized when it comes to the children. I’m blessed in that way.”

“Yes, but they do have broods of their own. I know how that is with my sisters and brothers.”

“True.”

He shifted awkwardly. Helen was a sweet-natured woman. A hard worker. A good mother. His gaze strayed to Emma. She was still scrubbing, head bent. She moved the brush in a circular motion so fierce he suspected she might remove varnish from the floor. “I’ll take care of the wood in a few minutes.”

Helen’s gaze shifted to Emma’s bent head. Pink crept across the older woman’s cheeks. “I’m sure the
teacher
will appreciate it.” She ducked her head and hustled away, her long skirt swaying.

The teacher didn’t look up, but Thomas felt certain she scrubbed even harder. He eyed the other women. They all seemed well occupied with the tasks at hand. Emma kept scrubbing. Surely she’d heard the exchange with Helen. She knew he stood there. He adjusted his straw hat. Now or never. He squatted a discreet distance from her. “May I ask you something?” he whispered.

She leaned back on her knees and swished the brush in the bucket. Her chin lifted, eyes wary, she tilted her head. “Are you speaking to me?”

He glanced around. No one else lurked in the vicinity. Not even Helen. “May I ask you something?”

She wiped at her forehead with the back of her hand. “Of course.”

“Outside.”

Her forehead wrinkled. She dropped the brush in the bucket and stood.

The pulse in his temple pounding, he waited for her to pass through the door first, then followed her down the steps. “This way,” he said, pointing to the back of the building.

When they were out of sight of the men working on the front yard, he stopped.

“What is it, Thomas?” She crossed her arms. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Do you…I mean…would you…” He threw his hands up in the air. “I’m not a teenager.”

“Neither am I.” Her tone was tart. “And I have work to do inside. I have students running about who’ll wonder what I’m doing behind
the building talking to a parent. You know Eli will think he’s in trouble, and the school year hasn’t even started.”

“Eli is busy working.” Thomas adjusted his hat again. “The thing is…I will not go to singings with a group of sixteen-year-olds. I’m too old to shine flashlights in windows. I have two young children, so I can’t just hop in a buggy and go courting after dark.”

Her eyebrows lifted over beautiful blue eyes. “I don’t believe anyone asked you to do that—or anything else.”

“But if I did—I mean, if I wanted to and I could arrange something… would you?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why court me now? You never did before. Do you feel sorry for me?”

Thomas’s brain felt as if it would explode as he tried to decipher this woman’s line of thinking. “No, no, I don’t—”

“Just because you’re friends with Luke and you want to help him out, don’t think it’s necessary to court his sister—to take me off his hands, so to speak.” She stared at the ground. “I won’t be pitied. Not by you, Thomas Brennaman.”

He didn’t remember courting being this hard, but then it
had
been a long time. “That’s not it at all.”

“Then what?”

“Do I have to spell it out?”

She put her hands on her hips. “I think so, considering you let my father say no without so much as a word to me. Courting is a private thing between two people. Approval comes later, when serious commitment is involved.”

His face burned. “So you know about that.”

“Yes, I know about that.”

“It wasn’t that I let your father make the decision for me. After I mentioned it to him, I realized I wasn’t ready.”

Her frown softened. “You weren’t ready…because of Joanna.”

“Yes, but now I am. It’s been four years, Emma, and I…I…well…”
He couldn’t say it. Not aloud. It would sound unmanly to admit to a loneliness that ate at his very core each day when he arose and each night when he went to bed. He should be content with his children and his work. Yet the feeling of emptiness overwhelmed him in quiet moments. He sucked in air. “I like you.”

The frown disappeared from her pretty face. She laughed aloud, a sound sweeter than the birds singing on a fine spring morning. What was she laughing about? “Well, it would be important to like the woman you court.”

Nonplussed, he tugged at his hat. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Jah.”

A sense of relief assailed him, so acute his legs felt weak. He managed a chuckle. Humor was one of Joanna’s qualities he missed the most. “I’m glad I can make you smile.”

“Me too.”

He looked at his shoes for a minute. “Do you like me?”

She crossed her arms and swung her gaze toward the tree branches swaying in a soft breeze. The silence stretched. Maybe he’d been too forward. Maybe he was wrong.

Finally, she smiled. “That’s an awfully forward question.”

“And that’s no answer.”

She sighed. Her gaze didn’t meet his. “I made a bad choice once, and it cost me dearly. I don’t trust my judgment when it comes to affairs of the heart. Besides, I’m…not a nice person.”

So he could blame Carl Freiling for her hesitation. The man’s actions continued to hurt Emma, even after all this time. He’d made her doubt herself. The second part of her statement sunk in. What was she talking about, not a nice person? She happened to be one of the nicest people Thomas had ever had the honor to know. “Of course you are.”

“Not perfect, then.”

What a relief. “
Gut
, because neither am I.”

“You might find I’m not what you are looking for.” Her gaze finally met his. “You might find I’m not suitable at all.”

“We won’t know until we try.”

She crossed her arms, uncrossed them, then tugged at her apron. “I’m willing to try.”

He tucked his hat back a little. “Then I’ll figure it out—I mean with the children and all. It might take a while.”

“All right, then.”

A quick smile and she slipped away.

He stood there for a few seconds longer, thanking God he’d survived. Then he went back to work.

Emma’s shoes thudded against the steps leading to the schoolhouse porch. The sound surprised her. Surely she walked on air, she felt so light. Thomas might come courting some night. It might take a while. He might figure something out. His bumbling attempt at conversation a moment ago had touched her. His nervousness matched hers. That struck her as sweet, considering he’d done this before. Of course, he’d taken his time getting to this point. Doubt lingered in the pit of her stomach. Maybe he really did feel sorry for her. Maybe he wanted to help Luke. Ridiculous. He said he liked her and he did.

The conversation also told her Helen Crouch’s less than subtle attempts to attract his attention had failed. She nibbled at her lower lip. Helen did have more in common with Thomas. They had both lost spouses. They had children. They were closer in age. Helen had a sweet disposition, too, unlike hard-headed Emma. Why had he decided to court Emma?
Because he really does like me?
The thought made her heart contract in a sudden hiccup of emotion.

That didn’t even begin to cover the question of how she would compare to Joanna. Sweet Joanna who never had a bad word to say about anyone and who never complained, not even when the cancer gave her terrible pain. Would Thomas compare them and find Emma wanting because of her hard, unforgiving heart? A heart that might still belong to another? That thought brought her up short. Doubts assailed
her. She didn’t want to hurt Thomas. He had suffered enough. And then she had to think about the effect on Eli and Rebecca.

Enough. Work
. They’d never finish if she continued to lolly-gag about, as Mudder used to say. The thought of Mudder didn’t bring the usual engulfing wave of pain intertwined with sadness. Emma turned that thought over in her mind. Sad, but not desperately so. That could be called progress of sorts.

Contemplating the tasks that remained to be completed, she hesitated in the doorway. Annie had gone to retrieve a basket of cleaning rags from the buggy and never returned, an act most unlike her sister. Annie not only worked with single-minded determination until a task was done, but she enjoyed it. She loved the camaraderie of the other women during all the work frolics, which was why she organized so many of them. Next week would be the canning frolic at the Shirack house.