To Love and to Cherish (2 page)

Catherine’s voice faded. Her knees buckled.

Emma struggled to hold her up. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Her poor sister would have the images burned on her brain forever. Catherine didn’t need to see any more of this horrific scene. Emma grasped her sister’s trembling shoulders. “I need you to do something for me.”

Catherine’s face was white and wet with rain and tears. “I couldn’t help them. I can’t help anyone.”

“Yes, you can.” Emma hugged her and then gave a gentle shove. “Lillie and Mary are down the road. Go get them. Take them home.”

Catherine shook her head and sobbed. “I don’t want to tell them—”

“Don’t. Don’t tell them anything.”

Catherine wiped at her face with a sodden sleeve. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”

“Go. Make sure they’re safe. Take them home. Luke and I will come when we can.”

“What about Annie and Mark? They’ll wonder why Mudder hasn’t come home from town yet.”

“Tell them there’s been an accident. Then wait for Luke and me.”

Catherine took off, her stride unsteady at first, then she picked up speed. Faster and faster, as if those horrifying images pursued her.

Emma wanted to run after her, surpass her, and keep on running forever.

“Miss? Miss!”

She forced herself to turn and face the wreckage.

“It was an accident.” The farmer, his craggy, sun-ravaged face wet—whether from rain or tears Emma couldn’t tell—moved closer. He crumpled the green John Deere cap in his huge hand, smoothed it, crumpled it again. “I’m sorry, so sorry. I was in a hurry to get to the mill in Bliss Creek before the rain came. I drove up over the bluff and they were right there. I guess they slowed down to make the turn. I tried to stop. I did, but the truck skidded into them.” He wiped his face with the backs of his stubby fingers. “It was an accident.”

Luke strode toward them, his long legs eating up the road. Her bear-sized brother usually walked the road the way he walked life—in a calm, deliberate manner. Now the world had tilted, taking everything familiar with it. “I know, Mr. Cramer. Don’t worry. We forgive you.”

The man’s mouth gaped wide, exposing crooked teeth. After a second, it closed. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

Emma raised her head to the spattering of raindrops. Maybe they would wash away the anger in her heart. When Carl had left, she’d thought the worst thing that could ever happen to her was done. Over. Now this. Not an intentional abandoning, but an accidental one. In the end, the effect was the same.

Luke was right to forgive. But sometimes right was too hard.

T
homas longed to help her. Them. He longed to help them. He forced his gaze from Emma to Luke. They huddled by the side of the road, waiting in the misting rain. Their gazes strayed now and then to the yellow tarps the paramedics had used to cover the bodies. Their pain gathered like a shroud around them. It was so familiar. When cancer had finally taken his Joanna, she’d been a paper-thin replica of her former round self. Thomas gently laid her memory aside and focused on Luke. “I’ll stay here until the medical examiner comes,” he said. “You should go tell the others.” He cleared his throat. “Annie and Mark will know something is wrong. You shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

“I can’t leave them. Not here. Not on the road.” Luke’s voice cracked, but determination made his features sharp and noble. “I must deal with the officers and…the arrangements…for after they’re finished here.”

The screeching of tires on damp payment and the squeal of brakes interrupted the exchange. A truck with a microwave dish on top of it and TV station call letters splashed across the side skidded to a stop behind the police barricade. A man jumped from the driver’s side and pulled a camera from the back.

The media loved to tell stories about the Plain people. The curiosity of the Englisch didn’t bother Thomas, but it pained him to think of
Emma and Luke’s grief displayed on a box in the living room of people who didn’t know them or thought of them as an oddity that provided entertainment. “At least take Emma home. I’ll stay with them until you come back.”

Luke’s gaze whipped from the photographer to the tarps. He wiped his eyes with a white handkerchief. “Could you walk her back?”

Luke’s look was blank, unseeing, caught up as he was in his grief. Thomas wondered if he knew. Knew that Thomas wanted to be more than Emma’s friend. Had William Shirack spoken of it? William had been a good man, a fair man, a dedicated father and husband. He had said Thomas was too old, too many years separated him from Emma. As much as every fiber of his being said William was wrong, Thomas had honored his wishes. “Of course—”

“You don’t need to trouble yourself. I’ll be fine.” Emma’s tone belonged to one bewildered, trying hard to fathom the unspeakable.

“No, but you will need someone to stand with you and Catherine when you tell Annie, Mark, and the twins.” Thomas moved closer. “I would be honored to do that for you.”

They began walking. She didn’t speak. Silence cloaked them, but he knew thoughts ran rampant and loud in her head. The last time she’d seen her parents, what they’d said, all the insignificant moments that had become so enormously important. Enormously painful.

“Why were your parents together?” It didn’t really matter, in the end, but the question filled the silence. “Why wasn’t your father in the fields today?”

“Mudder finally convinced Daed to go to the doctor.” Emma’s voice was high, tight. “For the pains in his stomach.”

She stumbled. He grabbed her elbow until she could right herself. She glanced at him, her eyes bright with pain. “
Danki
for being a good friend.”

A good friend. He swallowed and let his hand drop. When he looked at Emma, he saw a beautiful girl with eyes the color of summer sky and white skin that would be soft under his farmer hands. She was sturdy, yet somehow the way the folds of her dress draped across her body
hinted of a womanliness that caused him to look away in deference to propriety. Emma had a sweet disposition. She was intelligent. And faithful. Everything a man could want in a
fraa
. He saw in her the possibility of a fresh start with someone who would be a good wife and a mother for his two children. It was obvious that when she looked at him she saw a neighbor, her students’ father, and an old family friend—with an emphasis on the
old
.

If a good friend was all she saw, that was what he must try to be.

E
mma shifted in the sofa. The nightmarish images in her head of the mangled buggy and her parents’ lifeless bodies on the dark asphalt made the serenity of their home seem surreal. The weight of the twins, one on each side, seemed so much more when they were asleep. They looked so peaceful. What a blessing sleep must be. She remembered when they were born. The midwife had clapped her hands and said, “A double blessing.”

In those days, Emma had been anticipating a life in which she would have many babies. She had been caught up in the preparations, trying to learn for when her time came. It had been a day of great joy. Mudder had thought herself done with childbearing, but the twins had been a welcome addition to their big family. The more the merrier, Daed had said. Mudder had been so happy with her little bundle on each arm.

Now they were gone and the twins’ infectious laughter had turned to tears.

Of course, they hadn’t really understood. They reacted more to the suffering of their big sisters and brother than to any realization of the meaning of Emma’s words. They would grow up with loving sisters and brothers and aunts and uncles, but not parents. No one to call Mudder and Daed.

Catherine and Annie huddled on a long bench, Mark between them. Only a year apart in age, the girls could’ve been another set of twins, except Annie was taller. In this painful moment, she seemed intent on the role of older sister, her arm tight around Mark’s shoulder. Their eyes and noses were red, but the sobs had subsided. Thomas stood at the window, the green blind lifted, staring out. Although he hadn’t spoken a word, as was usual with his reserved character, his tall frame gave her a strange sense of comfort, as if his being there kept them safe from more bad news.

“Why was Luke at the stand?” The question kept her from thinking of other things, other questions yet to be answered. “Why wasn’t he at his shop?”

“One of my horses threw a shoe. He was making a house call—my mother offered to feed him for his trouble.” Thomas turned, his face creased with a sad smile. “They’re coming.”

Soon the house would be crowded with the men of the family. The women would come next. Emma breathed in and out. “Then we must prepare supper.”

“Wait until your aunts arrive. They’ll bring more food and they’ll help.” Thomas lifted Lillie from her lap. When the little girl opened her eyes, he smiled. “Time to wake up. You have company.”

Lillie wiggled from his grasp and poked at Mary, then ran to the window. “The uncles are coming. And Luke. Is he staying for supper? Are William and Joseph coming, too?”

Luke’s sons most likely would come later, but this would be a time of discussion for the adults. Emma stood and smoothed her apron. “Catherine, Annie, make some lemonade. And heat up that chicken casserole. Mark, after the twins eat take them to their room so they can get ready for bed. I’ll be up to say prayers later.”

“I want to see Luke! I want to play with Joseph!” Lillie’s face scrunched up in a frown. Mary’s quickly matched it.

Before she could add to the refrain, Emma pointed at the door. “Not tonight. Go.”

The children went, their faces downcast.

Catherine hadn’t moved. “How can you think of food right now?”

“Not for us. For them.”

Her lips drawn in a tight line, Catherine sprang from the sofa and stomped toward the kitchen, her long skirts flouncing. Annie followed, but paused in the doorway. “Don’t worry, Emma,” she said. “We know what to do. You talk to Luke. Ask him…ask him what we’ll do now.”

What would they do now? Annie had asked the question Emma had been trying to ignore. Without Daed, who would run the farm? Who would harvest the corn and alfalfa and wheat and take care of the livestock? She and the girls could handle the vegetable garden, but an entire farm? With three children who needed supervision?

The house filled with men, each one greeting her with simple words of condolences. After greeting them, Thomas turned to go, but Luke stopped him with one big hand on his arm. “Stay.”

“You have talking to do. Plans to make—”

“You’re a good friend. A wise one.”

Thomas inclined his head and settled back on the bench next to Mark. The boy scooted a little closer and Thomas laid a hand on his shoulder. Luke turned to Emma. “The arrangements are made. They’ll bring the…bring them here tomorrow morning. The funeral will be the day after.”

“I’ll get the clothes.” Mudder would need her white apron and Daed his Sunday suit.

Luke’s jaw twitched. “Uncle Noah will take them to the funeral home.”

She nodded. The furniture would need to be rearranged. The wake would begin as soon as Mudder and Daed arrived.

Luke sank into a chair. “We need to talk about what happens… after.”

“I’ll stop teaching.” The words were out before the thought was fully formed. “Mark and the twins will need me.”

“The school needs you. And we need your income.”

“They’ll understand and we’ll make do. The family comes first.”

“I’ll take care of the children.” Annie stood in the doorway. The
nineteen-year-old’s gaze fell on the deacon. Then Uncle Noah. Uncle Peter. Uncle Timothy. She turned to Emma. “I’m old enough to care for them and the house. And the garden. With Catherine’s help.”

“But what about Robert? Aren’t you and he—”

Annie shook her head hard. Her beseeching expression made Emma close her mouth. “Or I could take the teaching job, if you prefer to oversee the household.”

“I have no doubt you’re capable of taking over the teaching duties.” Luke’s tone was gentle. “But your income from the pies and cakes you sell at the produce stand is more than we can afford to lose. As are Catherine’s earnings from cleaning the Englisch homes. We need everyone to work, and I don’t believe you can bake and sell all those desserts with two five-year-olds underfoot. Even if Mark helps.” He let out a heavy sigh. “But that doesn’t address how we’ll keep the farm going.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Emma struggled to keep her tone civil. It wasn’t Luke’s fault he’d suddenly become head of two households. “We can’t lose the farm, and we have to take care of the children.”

“Either we sell this farm and you all move in with Leah and me, or I sell the shop and our home and we move here.”

Live with Leah. Emma tried to imagine that. Leah had been ahead of her at school. They’d never been close. When Luke and Leah married Emma had tried to be friendly, but her advances had been met with a reserve that she couldn’t seem to penetrate. Her brother’s wife was a taciturn woman who’d grown up in a family even more conservative than Emma’s. She always seemed to be frowning at Emma’s lighthearted approach to life. Emma couldn’t remember ever hearing her laugh, not even at the wedding.

Emma glanced at Deacon Pierce and the uncles. Daed’s brothers. Mudder’s brothers. It surprised her that none had joined the discussion. She studied their faces. They were all looking at Luke. He was the head of the family now. The eldest son. The decision would be his. And she would have to live with it, even if that meant learning to live with Leah.

She opened her mouth, then shut it. This was her home. All of
them, including Luke, had grown up here. His home was small, too small for their combined broods. Luke cherished the home he’d made with Leah, too. He’d worked hard as an apprentice blacksmith. Now he owned the only place in town where horses could be shod. The brisk business supported his family. The decision should be his. “Luke, I don’t want to lose the farm, but I don’t want you to lose your shop, either. Whatever you decide, that’s what we’ll do.”

Catherine inched into the room. “What about Josiah?”