To Love and to Cherish (25 page)

“The chores won’t do themselves.” He pulled on a woolen glove. “I’m doing what we do every morning. The livestock need to be fed.”

“Luke doesn’t expect you out there your first day back. The doctor
said you could come home if you took the time to heal from your injuries.”

“I can feed the animals, at the very least.” Josiah tugged at the cast on his arm. “This thing itches. It’s time that I start pulling my weight around here.”

His words sent relief and hope rushing through her. Something else for which to be thankful. “You have plenty of time for that when you’re better.”

“I have to make up for lost time.”

They smiled at each other. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Mary and Lillie flew down the stairs, their little shoes making clickety-clackety sounds on the wood. “Happy Thanksgiving!” Mary tore by them. “We’ll feed the chickens real quick.”

“Don’t forget the mama kitten!” Mark’s boots made a heavy thudding sound on the steps. “Luke says she has to keep her strength up so she can feed her babies. I’ll take care of the horses and the pigs.”

With one long stride, Josiah made it to the door in time to open it for his little sisters and his brother. He grinned at Emma. “It’s good to be home.”

He clomped out. Still smiling, Emma went into the kitchen. Leah hummed at the stove, and Luke was nowhere in sight. He must’ve gone out through the back door.

“The bacon’s on. I’m making pancakes.” Leah actually smiled. “Will you fry the eggs?”

“It would be my pleasure.” Emma smiled back. Thanksgiving brought out the best in everyone. “I think we should have some apple muffins, too. I’ll put out the honey and the peach preserves.”

Breakfast passed in a medley of laughter and conversation. Emma savored every moment.

Both the animals and the humans fed, it was time for devotions. Even the little ones joined in. After prayers, Luke looked around. His face as relaxed as Emma had seen it in months, he pointed to Lillie. “You start, little schweschder.”

Lillie giggled, obviously pleased at the honor. “I’m thankful for the
dollies Leah made Mary and me for our birthdays. Oh, and for the turkey we’ll have at Uncle Noah’s house.”

It was Leah’s turn to look pleased. “I’m glad you like the doll. What about you, Mary?”

Mary squinted her eyes, as if thinking hard. “I’m thankful for my coat when it’s cold and the stove that makes the water hot when I have to take a bath.”

Emma laughed, in spite of herself. Everyone knew Mary didn’t care for taking a bath. On around the circle they went, each selecting small, simple blessings.

Catherine’s turn came last. Her face, usually so shuttered, reflected a mix of happiness and trepidation. Her gaze skipped around the room, lighting everywhere except on her family. “I’m not sure how to say this. With Mudder and Daed gone everything’s changed, and I don’t know how you’re supposed to do this…” Her voice sounded higher than usual. “So I’m just going to say it. My blessing is…well, Melvin Dodd asked me to marry him and I said yes. Luke, we’d like to ask you to make the invitation after the prayer service on Sunday.”

Stunned silence prevailed for a long second. Then Leah hopped to her feet, more nimble than seemingly possible with her girth. “Congratulations! What wonderful news!”

Then everyone talked at once. The twins clamoring to get into Catherine’s lap. Annie and Josiah took turns patting her shoulder. The boys ran around the room, cheering. Emma couldn’t bring herself to move. Her gaze connected with Luke’s. He shrugged. After a few minutes, Catherine untangled herself and peered around Leah. “You’re not saying anything, Emma.”

Emma sat up straighter and pushed back all the words that threatened to tumble out. Catherine would marry first, before Emma, before Annie. It didn’t seem fair.
This isn’t about fair
. Emma should be happy for her sister, thrilled, in fact, that she had overcome the horrors of the accident to find happiness. Still, she couldn’t ignore the ugly envy that threatened to take root in her heart. “You two were very
quiet, indeed. I had no idea you were even courting until last night. Has it been long?”

“Long enough.” Catherine plucked at her apron. “We’ve been visiting for a while. At Ruth’s wedding, we realized we had something special. Everything fell into place.”

“But you didn’t even come to the noon meal,” Emma objected. “I was going to seat you next to Michael Glick.”

“Didn’t you notice Melvin wasn’t at the table either?”

“Congratulations.” Emma went to her. “I’m so happy for you. What a blessing. I know you and Melvin will have a good life together.”

“Thank you,” Catherine whispered. She clasped Emma’s hands in hers. “Your turn will come, I know it will.”

Emma forced a smile. “I know you’re right.”

If only saying it would make it so.

E
mma tugged boots over her thick woolen socks. Then she shrugged on her heaviest coat. They needed two buggies to carry the entire family to Uncle Noah’s house. Since the new one didn’t have a kerosene heater, Luke took Leah and the smaller children in the old buggy while Emma and the older siblings dressed for the weather. She added a woolen bonnet and tucked a scarf around her neck. “I’ll drive,” Josiah said as he stalked past her and opened the front door.

“No, you won’t.” She scurried after him. “You’ll put a strain on your shoulder and your ribs. What if the horse spooks and jerks the reins? I’ll drive.”

Josiah clomped down the steps. “I’m not being driven to Uncle Noah’s by—”

“By a girl?” Emma laughed, her breath making white puffs in the icy air. “Pride goeth before the fall, little bruder. Doctor Chavez said no driving.”

“He meant cars.”

“Buggies are worse.” Emma pulled on her gloves. Doctor Chavez also intended for Josiah to go back for a series of follow-up visits to him and to Doctor Morris. Josiah had made it clear he intended to do neither. “Forget it. You’re not driving.”

Mark hurled himself past them and rushed toward the buggy. “I can drive. Let me!”

“Where are your gloves?” Emma called after him. “Back in the house, right now.”

Josiah rolled his eyes and groaned. “Which is worse? My sister or my little brother—”

He stopped. Emma followed his gaze. Annie sat in the driver’s seat, the reins in her hands. “How about your other sister?” She grinned. “All aboard, we’re losing time. I told Aunt Sophie I would make my green bean casserole when I get there—that way it will be fresh and hot.”

Chattering and laughing, they huddled together under thick, soft buggy robes. Annie clucked and shook the reins. They were off to Uncle Noah’s. Emma glanced back. Catherine raised her face to the late morning sun as if soaking up its warmth. Emma turned and did the same. How could one be burdened by sorrow and discontent on such a beautiful day? Catherine deserved all the happiness she could find. Melvin Dodd was a fine young man who worked hard on his father’s farm. He would make a good husband. They’d done a good job of keeping their courting private.

Unlike Emma. Everyone seemed to know about Carl and Thomas. Seeing Catherine so happy brought Emma’s dilemma front and center in the bright morning light. Carl with his letters. She tried not to think about the letters. She’d been tempted to read another this morning, but there hadn’t been time. Reading the letters didn’t mean she believed they could overcome the past. It only meant she was allowing herself to revisit those days. It might be the only way to heal from what Carl had done.

Then there was Thomas. Their talk at the hospital had made her believe they might have a chance. What would he say about the letters? Let the past lie? Let Carl go. Or would Thomas bow out? The thought stabbed her. She didn’t want that. She should return the letters to Carl without reading more. She sighed and closed her eyes. She had to make a decision. Soon. After the holiday, Thomas might see fit to visit her
again. Today he would be celebrating with his family and so was she. She should be happy in the moment.

She opened her eyes. They were turning off the dirt road onto the highway. The produce stand sat empty today. Flashes of the scene battered Emma. Bits and pieces. The sounds more than the sights haunted her. The horse’s screams. The wailing of the sirens. Catherine’s sobs and Luke’s ragged breathing. The sounds echoed loudly in the silence that descended on the buggy.

“Maybe we should pray.” Annie offered, her voice small and tentative.

“Yes, yes, we should.” Emma bowed her head and whispered a prayer for Mudder and Daed and for all the families who celebrated a day of thanksgiving with empty spots on the benches.

“Look, there’s Thomas.” Mark’s voice broke the silence. “And Eli. Hi, Eli! Hi, Rebecca. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Annie pulled even with Thomas’s buggy. He waved and wished them a happy holiday in return.

“We’re going to Groossmammi’s,” Rebecca called. “And then we get to go to Helen’s house for pie. I’ll get to play with Betsy today. That’s what I’m thankful for.”

Thomas’s gaze met Emma’s. He didn’t blink. She stared back. The connection she’d felt at the hospital somehow had been broken. Surely, she could blame no one but herself. She offered friendship. He had taken it. She told him to consider Helen Crouch. Apparently, he’d decided to take her advice.

“It was neighborly of Helen’s parents to invite us for dessert,” Thomas said, his bleak expression belying his words. “I’ve heard Helen makes some of the best pumpkin pie in this part of the state.”

Emma lifted her chin. “I’m sure it’s wonderful. Your family doesn’t mind?”

“With the brood that my mother will have at the house, they’ll hardly miss the three of us after we’ve eaten turkey. It’ll be naptime for her. Besides, she’s always…” He stopped. His face suffused a red that had nothing to do with the brisk northerly wind that buffeted them.
“Anyway, we better get going. Mudder doesn’t like for the turkey to sit too long after it comes out of the oven.”

“Us, too.” Annie said when Emma didn’t respond. “May your day be truly blessed.”

Thomas’s nod seemed to take in everyone except Emma. She didn’t speak again until his buggy turned off on the road that led to his parents’ farm. Then she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Not to be ugly or anything, but I think Annie’s pumpkin pie is the best in this part of the state.”

Annie burst out laughing. After a second, Josiah, Catherine, and Mark joined in. “What? What are you laughing at?”

“You, schweschder.” Annie shifted the reins to one hand for a second and squeezed Emma’s arm with the other. “You’re so good most of the time, you try so hard, and then sometimes you’re so human. It’s nice to know you’re only human. Things get to you just like they get to me or Josiah—”

“Or me.” Catherine chimed in.

“Of course, they get to me.” They could never know how much. Emma couldn’t believe they didn’t realize how flawed she truly was. “But it’s not nice and you shouldn’t laugh. It’s not a competition. We should be happy that Helen makes great pies. We should wish her the very best with her pies. And with Thomas.” She almost choked on the last three words. “That would be the nice thing to do.”

Annie whooped so loud Emma jumped. “See, there’s that nice Emma again.” She giggled. “You’re right. But you don’t mean it. You like Thomas. And if you want to be with him, you need to start working at it a little harder.”

“Hush. That’s a private matter between Thomas and me.”

Annie shrugged. Emma glanced back at her brothers and sister. “All of you, hush.”

No one said another word, but Emma could feel their smiles warming her back all the way to Uncle Noah’s house.

Thomas eased onto a bench. He needed to get out of Helen’s way. She’d been fluttering around the crowded room ever since he arrived. Clucking like a hen over Eli and Rebecca as well as her four children. They were like stepping stones, one right after another, clean, neat, soft-spoken. Their respectful demeanor spoke well of Helen and her parents. He turned down her third offer of more pie. “I really couldn’t eat another bite.”

“Some coffee then, to take the nip out of the air.”

Between the fireplace and the overflowing crowd of relatives, the room was plenty warm already. Thomas gently refused the offer yet again. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the gaggle of children playing Dutch Blitz on the piece-rag rug on the wood floor. Helen navigated around Eli and Rebecca, but nearly tripped over her son Edmond’s long, gangly legs. “Whoa!” She teetered, did a strange little two step, caught herself, and managed to save the pie tin.

Eli giggled. Thomas stared. His son quickly shut his mouth and went back to the game. Thomas stood. “I think it’s time for outdoor games. Eli, Rebecca, run along. Work off all that food with a good run about the farm. Go on!”

“Good idea!” Helen looked relieved. “Edmond, Betsy, out you go. You too, Ginny and Naomi. You can keep an eye on the younger ones.”

They didn’t need another invitation. In seconds the games were put away. Coats in hand, they were out the door, giggling and skipping. Their absence brought a little more space to the room. Thomas stretched his legs at the table and relaxed.

Helen’s mother gave him a sympathetic smile. She turned to her daughter. “Helen, why don’t you sit down for a minute.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the good-natured chatter of half a dozen teenagers playing Parcheesi at the other table. “I’m sure Thomas would rather talk with you than watch you fly around like a frightened bird.”