To Love and to Cherish (29 page)

“When she really wants to work at the restaurant.”

Emma began to brush her own hair. “After what we’ve been through with Josiah, I think he’s right.”

“Annie would never do the things Josiah did.” Catherine shook her
brush at Emma. “We can be around worldly people without becoming worldly. I clean Englischers’ houses, but I don’t try to live like they do. Look at Carl. He was among them for four years, and he’s come back to be the same Plain man as before.”

“I don’t think—”

“There’s no point in talking about it,” Annie interrupted Emma. She pulled back the quilt on the bigger bed. “I’ll be content with my breads and my pies and my cookies. Will you put out the lamp? My eyes won’t stay open anymore, and I have so much work to do tomorrow, I want to be rested.”

Emma did as her sister asked, then slipped under the covers on her narrow bunk bed. Annie was right. No sense in talking about it. But Catherine was wrong about Carl. He had been changed by his time in the city. Emma couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but he was different. If he had tried to take her with him, what would she have done? Would she have said yes? The letters made life out there sound exciting. She shouldn’t have begun reading them. She should return them to him.

She smacked her pillow and rolled over. The letters were a peek into a world she was better off not knowing about. She could never fill the void in his life. Nor could she be what Thomas sought in a woman like Helen. A mother of four.

Emma sniffed and closed her eyes. Better to hide from the truth. She was alone.

T
homas tugged the manger from the back of his wagon. Its wooden slats looked a little worse for wear after a couple of years in storage in his barn. He would whip it into shape again once he had it in the schoolhouse. “Eli, give me a hand.”

Eli scampered around to the back of the wagon. “Can I carry the backdrop?”

“It’s too heavy for one person—especially one your size. Take a bale of hay and we’ll come back for another load with the other men. It looks like the Schultzes are already here and that’s James Doolittle’s gray mare over there. And the Karbachs.”

Eli grunted and groaned but managed to pull the hay bale from the wagon and start off through the knee-deep snow. Thomas smiled to himself and took the lead, the manger over his shoulder. Emma had decided on a nativity scene for this year’s Christmas pageant. He liked the idea. Rebecca was in a skit about the innkeeper turning away Joseph and Mary, and Eli was in one about the magi’s journey to find the baby Jesus. They had been practicing their lines and traditional Christmas hymns for days as they did their chores. The sound brightened his mood.

Inside the school, the high-pitched voices of a dozen or more
women filled the room like the chatter of birds roosting in the trees in the spring. They had their sewing notions and bulky swatches of material spread over the desks. His sister Molly had both hands in a huge box sitting in the middle row. “Here it is!” She held up a long, gray robe. “Joseph’s robe. Do you think it will fit Donald?”

The women laughed.

“Only if he’s grown a foot this winter. John wore it two years ago, and he was the tallest boy in the class,” Elizabeth pointed out. “Maybe David should be Joseph this time. He’s taller.”

“No, no, they’ve already memorized their parts.” Emma took the robe from Molly. Her gaze collided with Thomas’s, then bounced away. “David is one of the magi and he’s very excited about that. We’ll just hem the robe a bit.”

Feeling like a fir tree in an apple orchard. Thomas headed for the front of the room where space had been cleared for the pageant practices. Huffing and puffing, Eli dragged the hay bale to the same spot.

“Eli, you’re getting hay all over the floor.” Emma bustled after them and grabbed a broom from the corner. “Let’s keep the props in their place.”

His face red with exertion, Eli plopped down on the bale. “Sorry, Daed needed my help.”

“Indeed, I did. My apologies also, Emma.”

Emma frowned and didn’t meet his gaze. Trying to ignore the feeling that he’d said something wrong, Thomas pulled gloves from his hands and knelt to examine the manger.

Emma began to sweep around him, brisk, snappy swipes that blew bits of straw into the air. Thomas coughed.

“Sorry.” She kept sweeping. “I can’t have a mess in the school. We have to set the example for the children.”

Of course. The children. “Eli, bring me my toolbox from the wagon.” Thomas wiggled the slats. Too loose. The baby Jesus might fall through. “I need my hammer.”

Whack
. The broom collided with his ankle. “Ouch!”

“I’m sorry!” Emma’s hands flew to her face. The broom slammed to the floor. “I didn’t mean to hit you with the broom. I would never—”

“I’ll live.” Thomas dragged himself to his feet, aware of the now silent group of women watching. “I’m sure it was an accident.”

“It was. Really, it was.”

Their gazes locked. Thomas turned so his back faced the curious gazes of the women. “Why do I feel like I owe you the apology?” He kept his voice down, hoping the women couldn’t hear. He longed for two minutes alone with Emma. “Did I do something?”

“No. You did nothing.” She picked up the broom. “How was Helen’s pumpkin pie?”

Aha
. “I only had one piece. I was stuffed full of turkey and couldn’t really appreciate it.” The truth might work in his favor in this instance. “My mother’s feast did me in.”

Emma began sweeping again. The broom made a
swish-swish
sound on the wooden floor. Thomas sneaked a glance over his shoulder at the women. They had gone back to their sewing, but Molly had a watchful gaze turned their direction. He stayed where he was. “I don’t know how you’re keeping up with Catherine’s wedding in two days.”

Emma didn’t look up from her task. “Leah and Annie have borne the brunt of it. Both are so handy with needle and thread, and of course, Annie is a whirlwind in the kitchen. Thank goodness, it’s the last wedding of the season.”

“You missed a few while you were taking care of Josiah.”

“’Tis a shame.” She didn’t sound particularly upset about the missed festivities. “But we’ve plenty to do between now and the New Year.”

“Indeed.”

Emma glanced at him and then down at the manger. The broom stopped moving. “Looks like you have plenty to do right now.”

“Right. Right! Where did Eli get to, anyway?” He strode to the door, feeling like a boy who had been suspended from school. “There are a few more pieces to be brought in. I’ll get the others to help.”

When she didn’t reply, he looked back. She had returned to her sweeping.

Her face burning, Emma propped the broom against the wall by the stove and checked to make sure it still had plenty of wood. Thomas had left the door open so they could carry in the other bales of hay and the backdrop. The cold draught of air made her shiver despite the heat from the stove. She couldn’t believe she’d smacked him with the broom. It wasn’t on purpose. Of course not. She shook her head.

“Why are you shaking your head? Is something wrong?”

To Emma’s surprise, Helen Crouch stood next to her, her arms full of costumes. She looked from Emma to the manger and back. “It’ll be fine. They just need to tighten the slats and touch up the paint a little.”

“No, it’s not that.” Emma stuttered, flustered by the woman’s knowing stare. “The men left the door open and now it’s getting cold in here.”

“Take these.” Helen thrust the costumes into Emma’s arms. “I’ll shut it.”

“No, no, that’s fine. They’re bringing in the backdrop.” She ran her fingers over the rough fabric of the costume on top of the pile. Helen’s oldest daughter Naomi would play Mary, Edmond served as a shepherd, and the younger girls were citizens coming to Bethlehem for the census. “These are great, Helen. You did a wonderful job.”

Helen beamed. “The girls helped. My mother and my sister pitched in. We worked on them together. It was fun.”

Emma touched the sleeve of Mary’s robe. The costumes had been made with love. All four of Helen’s children would be in the pageant. Emma enjoyed planning the plays and the songs and seeing her scholars perform, but it wasn’t the same. Not the same as having her own children. “You’re so blessed to have four children.” It took a second to realize what she’d said. If George Crouch had lived, there would’ve been more children. “I’m sorry, that was a silly thing to say.”

“No, I
am
blessed to have four children.” Helen lifted her chin and smiled a watery smile. “I wish George could be here to see them play
their small parts in the pageant. Of course we wanted more children. But it wasn’t meant to be. This is God’s will.”

Emma could only nod, afraid to say anything more for fear of putting her foot in her mouth.

Helen held out her arms. “Do you want me to leave them here or shall we keep them at home?”

“Home for now.” Emma handed them back. “They can wear them the night of the pageant, or, if it’s too cold, put them on here.”

The older woman nodded. She started to walk away, then stopped. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “Thomas is kind.”

Startled by the change of subject, Emma groped for an adequate answer. “I’m sure he is.”

“That’s why he came to my house for pie.” She ducked her head like a teenage girl. “He was too kind to say no.”

“Helen—”

“I thought you should know.” Helen waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

She trotted away, one of the costumes trailing on the floor after her.

E
mma stuck another pin in Catherine’s apron and smoothed the material of her skirt. Her sister looked good in the traditional blue of the wedding dress. Except that Catherine looked unusually pale today. Her silly high spirits of the previous week had disappeared. Her eyes and the tip of her nose were red, as if she’d been crying. Tears of happiness? Or was she nervous? She hadn’t said two words while dressing. Emma took a step back and surveyed her work. “There. You look very nice.”

Bertha, Catherine’s attendant, cocked her head. She brushed a loose strand of hair from Catherine’s shoulder. “Emma’s right. Like a bride.”

Catherine twisted her hands in front of her. “I’m glad you were able to get Minnie Stahl to take your scholars today.” She sniffed and wiped at her nose with a wrinkled handkerchief. “I didn’t want to…go through this…without you.”

Go through it? Catherine sounded like she was about to have an operation or be sent on a long journey through the desert. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” Emma made her tone reassuring. “My scholars can spare me for one day.”

The door opened with a squeak, and Leah stuck her head in. “You should see the barn. It’s full. Everyone is here. Are you ready?”

Catherine’s hands fluttered to her cheeks. Bright red spots stood out
in stark relief against her white skin. She picked up a small rectangular mirror and peered into it. The mirror shook in her hand. She patted her kapp. “I feel sick.” She dropped the mirror on the bed. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready!”

The panic in her voice sent a wave of uncertainty through Emma. It sounded so much like the hysteria that day behind the chicken coop. She exchanged a glance with Bertha, who raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. Emma gave Catherine a quick hug. “It’s just pre-wedding jitters. You’ll be fine. Melvin is waiting for you.”

“No. I can’t. I can’t. I’ve changed my mind.” Catherine plopped onto the bed and put her face in her hands. “Don’t make me go out there.”

“Get up right now.” Leah stormed into the room. She yanked on Catherine’s arm. “You’ll not do this. You’ve made a commitment to that young man. His family is out there. Our family is waiting. People have traveled here from Ohio, from Pennsylvania. The bishop is out there. The whole community expects a wedding today, and you’re going to give it to them.”

Catherine teetered, then sank to the floor. “I’m so sorry. I’ve done something horrible. I should never have said yes. I thought I could do it, but I can’t.”

Leah put both hands on her hips. “Emma, get Luke.”

Emma hesitated. She didn’t want to leave her sister at Leah’s mercy. If Catherine had doubts, surely it was better to halt the wedding now rather than suffer a lifetime of marriage to the wrong man. “Catherine, what is it? Is it second thoughts about Melvin? Or are you sick?”

“Melvin’s a nice man.” Her hands over her face muffled the words. “He deserves someone who loves him.”

“And you deserve the same.” Emma knelt and rubbed Catherine’s shoulder. “Are you saying you don’t love him?”

“Not enough to marry him.” Catherine raised her tear-stained face. “I thought I could do it, but I can’t. I wanted a new start. I wanted…my own children to occupy me instead of cleaning up after other people’s children. But it won’t work, not with Melvin.”

“It’s just cold feet.” Leah insisted. “Emma, get Luke. Now!”

Emma rose. “Leah, please—”

“It’s for Luke to decide.”

Emma squeezed Catherine’s shoulder one last time, grabbed her coat, and scurried out to the barn. It had been transformed into its prayer meeting set-up. They’d spent hours cleaning the floor, rearranging the farm equipment, and setting up the benches. The men were already gathered on their side and the women on the other, quietly chatting. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. How could Catherine do this? After everything the family had been through. Why didn’t she say something sooner?