To Love and to Cherish (23 page)

Anger clipped his words. Emma bit her lip, pushing back her own anger. She didn’t want to argue with him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
offend you that night. I was trying to think about what is best for you and for Helen and for your children—yours and hers.”

The anger in his face gave way to sadness. “We seem to need to say we’re sorry a lot. I’m not a wishy-washy person. I know what I want. I’ve given this much thought. I can’t see what a woman like you would see in a man like me. Older, yoked with children, just this side of ugly. Carl is younger and good at talking. Perhaps he is best for you, just as Helen would be a better choice for me.”

Yes, Carl loved to talk and he knew just what to say. But he wasn’t so good with the follow-through. He never had been. Thomas would be there for the woman he chose. Helen deserved such a man. Emma sighed and threw up her hands. Too many conflicting feelings battered her. “All I know is right now, you are a sight for sore eyes, Thomas.”

His hand touched hers for the briefest of seconds. The sudden, insistent beep of the phone made her jump back. “Did we break it?”

“No and likewise, I’m glad to see you. Let’s leave it at that for now.” Thomas picked up the receiver, and returned it to its base. He smiled at her. “We should focus on others now, not ourselves. Luke wanted someone to check on you. He’s beside himself not being able to be here. I asked my sister to keep the children so I could volunteer. That way Luke can stay close to Leah and the boys.”

So he did it for Luke, not for her. Emma accepted that. His intentions were good, even if they weren’t directed at her. “How is everyone?”

Thomas shared his news from home and then Emma filled him in on everything the doctor had said about Josiah’s injuries, the psychological evaluation, even the situation with Sarah.

“Do you want me to make the call to Sarah’s father?” The kindness that radiated from Thomas’s eyes warmed Emma. He was sorely mistaken to think he was “just this side of ugly.” “I don’t mind.”

Relieved, Emma handed him the piece of paper where she’d written the important telephone numbers.

Thomas handled the phone like he’d been making calls all his life. Surely there had been times during Joanna’s extended illness when he had found it necessary to use it.

He spoke quietly, quickly, then hung up. “Roy will bring Sarah here when she gets out of school. He’s reluctant, but he understands what’s at stake. The bishop’s wife will get the message to Luke. I imagine he’ll want to come to the city himself.”

“It’s kind of you to be so helpful.” She stood. “I should get back to Josiah.”

He picked up the suitcase. “May I look in on your brother before I leave?”

He had such good manners, too. “Jah, Josiah would like that.”

Together, they walked to Josiah’s room. Emma sneaked a peek at Thomas’s face. He seemed lost in thought. She wanted to peek into his mind for a second. “Does being here bring back memories?”

“Jah.”

When he didn’t elaborate, Emma wished she’d left the question unasked. “It’s a strange place, a healing place, but yet so cold and impersonal. It seems to me people would get better faster at home, among friends and family.”

“Sometimes the need for powerful medicine is greater. Sometimes monstrous battles are fought inside these walls.” Thomas’s pace slowed. “My thoughts get jumbled up here. It’s painful to remember those last days with Joanna, yet more painful to try to forget them. I saw her alive for the last time in a room in this hospital. She was a cheerful soul to the last breath she drew. I don’t want to lose a single memory of her, even if that memory is here.”

It was the most words Emma had ever heard him speak about his wife. As painful as it was, he’d been willing to come here to help out a friend in need. “You’re a good friend to come here.”

“You think of me as a friend still?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I continue to hope for more.”

“Sometimes the strongest feelings are rooted in friendship.”

He nodded, his expression grave. “That’s a wise thought. We’ll leave it at friendship then.”

After that they didn’t speak. Finally, they reached the stretch of hallway that led to Josiah’s room. To her surprise, Annie paced outside his door.

“What’s going on?” Emma hastened toward her sister. “Why are you out here?”

Frowning, Annie stopped pacing. “Thomas, I didn’t know you were here—”

“Why aren’t you inside with Josiah?”

Annie threw up her hands. “Because the psychologist wanted to interview him in private. He’s in there now asking Josiah who knows what.”

Emma started toward the door.

Thomas stepped in front of her. “Let it be.”

“Josiah’s a minor.”

“This needs to be done. Your brother went through something that’s hard for us to understand. He needs help.”

Emma struggled against the desire to push her way past Thomas and into that room.

Thomas towered over her. “Think about what’s best for him.”

What would be best would be for him to come home.

A
fter fifteen minutes of pacing in the hospital’s long hall, Emma plopped down in a chair covered with cloth that felt like a rug under her fingers. “How long does this take?”

Thomas leaned against the hallway, his head down, his hat covering his face. He looked like he’d slept standing up. He stirred. “It’ll take however long it takes.”

“Such a sage man,” Annie murmured. She wiggled in the chair next to Emma. “I can see why you like him.”

“Hush! At least he—”

“Emma. Annie. Is he really awake? Is he all right?” Sarah barreled down the hall, her shiny boots smacking on the tile. “What does he—”

“Sarah, quiet, please.” Roy approached them at a more sedate pace. “It’s not necessary to shout out questions in a hospital. People are resting, trying to get better here.”

Her face stricken, Sarah slowed. “I’m sorry. I’m just so excited he’s awake. Have you talked to him?”

“Yes, and he’s fine. He remembers everything.” Emma stopped at the implication of those words. Sarah had to know Josiah remembered the question he posed and her answer. “He’s not upset. He’s fine.”

“Why are you sitting out here then?”

Emma explained.

“They think he’s suicidal?” Her expression befuddled, Sarah turned to his father. “That is not true. It was the alcohol.”

Mr. Kauffman didn’t look convinced. “That’s best left to the professionals.”

“We believe Josiah is fine.” Emma patted the chair on the other side of hers. “You might as well have a seat. We can’t go in until the psychologist comes out.”

As if he heard the words, a man in a gray suit exited Josiah’s room. His expression solemn, his gaze skipped from person to person. “Well, I see Josiah has quite the cheering section. That’s excellent.” He held out his hand to Mr. Kauffman. “I’m Doctor Morris.”

Again, the need for that painful explanation. Josiah’s father wasn’t here to go through this with his son. Emma was glad Mr. Kauffman did the necessary explaining. Doctor Morris turned to her. “Very well, then, are you the legal guardian?”

She shook her head. “My brother Luke.”

“Ah, and where is he?”

“He had to return to our farm, but he’ll be back.”

“I see. When he does return, please ask him to make contact with the staff to set up an appointment to discuss Josiah’s treatment with me.”

“His treatment? He’s fine. We’re ready to take him home.”

Doctor Morris pursed his lips. “Your brother will be fine.” There was an emphasis on the word
will
that bothered Emma. “I still want to speak with your brother before Josiah’s released.”

“Doctor, Thanksgiving is in two days. We want to have him home for the holiday. It’ll do so much to improve his spirits.”

“How quickly can your brother get here?”

Thomas eased away from the wall. “I’ll have him back here by tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning it is.” The doctor walked away.

Emma swallowed hard against that knot in her throat. “You are a good friend, Thomas.”

“Friends help friends.” He tipped his hat and strode away, his long
strides eating up the hallway. Emma stared after him, trying to decipher his tone. Resigned? Or determined?

“Can I see him now?”

Emma had momentarily forgotten about Sarah. Next hurdle. “Let’s go in together.”

Josiah’s eyes were closed when they entered, but they flew open at Sarah’s whispered words of greeting. Her hand closed around his. Emma had to look away. Should she leave them alone? She didn’t want to do that. Instead, she hung back, allowing them one small moment.

Sarah wiped at her face with her free hand. “Josiah, I’m so sorry.” She glanced back at Emma. Emma nodded in encouragement. “I came to tell you I’m sorry.”

“Is that it? You’re sorry?”

Sarah flinched. She glanced back at Emma again.

Emma couldn’t take it. She bustled over to the bed. “How are you feeling? Do you need some water? Sarah wants to talk a bit. Are you up to it?”

“Not really.” He studied the ceiling with exaggerated nonchalance. “I’m tired.”

His change of attitude baffled Emma. “You told me you wanted to see her.”

“I changed my mind.”

“No you didn’t,” said Emma. The way Josiah kept sneaking glances at Sarah belied the bravado in his words. “You’re just afraid.”

His good hand fisted. “Afraid of what? I’m not afraid of anything.”

“You’re afraid of saying good-bye.”

“You’re afraid? So am I.” Sarah raised both hands to her face and wiped tears from her cheeks with trembling fingers. “I’m afraid of never seeing you again.”

No, no. They weren’t going down that road. “Josiah is tired, Sarah. Maybe you should go.”

Sarah hung her head.

Emma felt like an overprotective parent, but it had to be done.

Sarah squeezed Josiah’s good hand. “Good-bye, Joe.”

“Wait.” Josiah grasped at her hand on the railing. She withdrew it. His eyes glazed with understanding. “Will I see you again?”

She backed away, her arms wrapped around her chest. “I don’t think so,” she whispered. “It’s best if we don’t.”

Then she was gone.

Josiah’s chin trembled. A pulse beat in his jaw. After a long second, his gaze sought Emma’s. “I want to go home. Please.”

“Soon, bruder.”

He rolled over and faced the wall.

T
homas raised a finger to his lips and shook his head. Eli closed his mouth. His son didn’t quite have the hang of the concept of being quiet when hunting. Together, they slipped through the narrow stand of oak trees and followed the stream toward the knoll where wild turkeys sometimes roosted. Thomas led the way, his rifle balanced in the crook of his arm. He tried to shake off the irritability that had plagued him since he returned from the hospital the previous day. He should be enjoying the crisp air, the late afternoon sunshine that took some of the chill from the air, and teaching his young son how to hunt.

The temperatures had risen enough on this fine late fall day that the snow had started to melt a little. He tread lightly through the slush, his gaze searching the nooks and crannies of the woodland’s edge for turkeys. His mother would be so pleased if they could bring home a fresh one in time for Thanksgiving tomorrow. Unfortunately, so far they hadn’t seen even one of the fowl. It was as if the turkeys knew tomorrow was the big day. They were hiding out. The nonsensical thought raised his spirits.

Successful or not, hunting gave Thomas an excuse to turn down Luke’s offer to ride along with him to Wichita. Until Emma moved beyond her past with Carl Freiling, it served no purpose to continue to
try to court her. Thomas would have to be happy with the friendship they kept talking about. The thought sent his mood plummeting again.

Luke’s offer had surprised Thomas. Why would Luke want him to go back to the hospital? It served no purpose. The plan was to discharge Josiah from the hospital as soon as Luke met with Doctor Morris. They would be home later this evening. Thomas’s help wouldn’t be needed.

Maybe it wasn’t about Josiah. He tightened his grip on the rifle. Maybe Luke knew about Carl. Even an old man with two children would be preferable to Carl as a suitor for Emma. It didn’t matter. Only Emma’s feelings—or lack thereof—mattered.

“Daed!” Eli’s whisper could be heard for several hundred feet. “Daed, look!”

“No talking.” Thomas shot Eli his most severe stare. They would never find a turkey at this rate. He shook his head. “Hush.”

Looking as if he’d burst from the effort to keep his mouth shut, Eli raised an arm and pointed toward the stream. Thomas followed his gaze. He stopped. Barely breathing, he tugged Eli’s arm down. “Get behind me,” he whispered. “Slowly.”

A grizzled coyote dipped its snout into the flowing stream. It was big and rangy with a sharply defined muzzle and fur that mixed gray and yellow with darker patches along its back. Its powerful jaws were perfect for tearing his prey—like Thomas’s chickens and calves—into ragged pieces. A half dozen of his livestock had been lost to this predator or one like it in the last few weeks.

He raised his rifle. The coyote’s head came up. For a second, it seemed to stare at Thomas, a challenge in its bright, glowing eyes. A low growl emanated from deep in its throat. Thomas peered through the sight. A clean kill shot would be best. He had no desire for the animal to suffer.

“Let me shoot ’em, Daed!” Eli whipped around Thomas and raised the rifle he’d received for his last birthday. “I can get ’em!”

At the sound of Eli’s high, excited voice, the coyote growled again. He bared his yellow fangs, crouched, then darted into the trees, his powerful haunches leaping over a nearby boulder. Thomas didn’t dare
take the shot, not with Eli in front of him. The coyote disappeared from sight without a backward glance.

“When I tell you to get behind me, that means
stay
behind me.” Thomas shoved down the barrel of Eli’s rifle so it pointed at the ground. “Did I not tell you to keep quiet?”

The boy slapped a hand over his mouth, his features woebegone. “I’m sorry. I got so excited I forgot!”