To Love and to Cherish (30 page)

It didn’t matter. Her sister couldn’t marry someone to escape from what her life had become since Daed and Mudder’s accident. Greeting several women, she slipped through the aisles until she saw Luke talking with a knot of men near the front row of benches. One of them was Bishop Kelp.

She took a deep breath and smoothed her skirt with damp palms. She waved her hand, trying to get her brother’s attention. It took several seconds, but finally Luke’s gaze traveled in her direction. He said something to the bishop, then strode toward her.

“Why are you interrupting a conversation with the bishop?”

The barely tapped down anger stung Emma. She wouldn’t interrupt if it weren’t an emergency. Luke knew that. She leaned closer to her brother. “Leah needs you.”

A look of alarm spread across his face. “The baby? Is it time for the baby?”

“No! No, it’s…” She glanced at Helen Crouch’s father and Bishop Kelp, still standing a few feet away. They had looks of mild curiosity on their faces. She leaned closer to Luke. “Please, just come.”

Luke nodded at the men and proceeded toward the door. Once they were outside he turned to Emma. “What is this about?”

“It’s Catherine. She—” Emma waited for the Hersberger family to pass. “She’s changed her mind.”

A look of fury so intense it caused Emma to take a step back infused Luke’s face. He whirled and marched toward the house.

“Luke, wait!” Emma trotted after him, hampered by her long skirt and the drifts of snow. Her breath came in quick, white puffs. “She’s confused. With everything that has happened—”

Luke didn’t slow until he had his hand on the door. “She’ll not shame this family. These people have been very good to us. They’ve taken care of us, supported us. Melvin Dodd’s family helped with Josiah’s hospital bills. Before that, they helped rebuild the barn.”

“They don’t expect Catherine to marry their son in exchange for their good will.” Emma couldn’t believe she had the courage to argue. “They’ll want him to be happy.”

Luke’s face darkened. “Neither do they expect to be embarrassed and shamed in front of the entire community.”

He stalked into the house, forcing Emma to run after him. He didn’t even pause to knock at Catherine’s door. He jerked it open and barged in. Catherine still sat hunched on the floor. Bertha crouched at her side, trying to comfort her friend. Leah simply glowered over them. She started talking immediately. “The silly girl says she can’t marry him.”

“She’s not silly.” Emma rushed to defend her sister. “She’s not herself—”

“You hush.” Luke’s fierce tone silenced Emma. He turned to Catherine. “You will not act like this. You made a commitment when the bans were announced at the prayer service. You will honor that commitment.”

Catherine’s mouth opened and closed. Her gaze circled the room. She began to wail. “I want Mudder. I want Mudder.” Her hands tore at her kapp. She ripped it off and threw it to the floor. “I need my mudder.”

The anguish in those words pierced the carefully knitted, almost healed wounds on Emma’s own heart. She sank to the floor and gathered her sister in her arms. Together they rocked back and forth, sobbing. After a few seconds, Emma managed to look up. “Luke, please, please!”

His face like a stone, only his lips moved. “I’ll speak to the bishop. He’ll have the final word.”

He stalked from the room, Leah right behind him. Catherine went limp in Emma’s arms. Her ragged breathing filled the room. Emma held on tighter. Her sister needed help. None would come from Luke and Leah. “Bertha, get Aenti Louise. She’ll know what to do. And Annie. Catherine needs her sisters.”

Her face wet with tears, Bertha rushed from the room, leaving Emma alone with Catherine. “It’s all right. It’ll be all right.”

The familiar words echoed in the room, mocking her. How many times had she said them before? Yet, here they were again.

E
mma tried to flatten herself against the wall. She wanted to make herself small so the men wouldn’t notice she stood near the living room door. They congregated, silent, waiting, their faces somber. She let her gaze drop to the floor. She couldn’t bear the look on Melvin Dodd’s whiskerless face. Embarrassment, shame, and anger mingled with hurt.

“I want to see her.” Melvin folded his skinny arms against his Sunday suit. “I want to talk to Catherine myself.”

Luke started to speak. Bishop Kelp held up a hand. “No. You have every right to wish to confront her directly, but she’s not well. She’s resting in her room. When she has come to her senses, I’ll meet with you both.”

Come to her senses
. Emma bit her lower lip to keep from speaking. Luke’s warning gaze pinned her to the wall. He jerked his head toward the door. She turned and slipped from the room. Her brother was right. Her time would be better spent checking on her sister. She moved into the hallway, intent on getting up the stairs without speaking to anyone.

“Emma!”

One hand on the banister, she turned at the soft, high voice calling her name. Miriam rushed toward her, her hands fluttering in the air.
“Is it true? Josiah says the wedding is off. Everyone is standing around out there, waiting, wondering.”

Josiah and Miriam had been talking. Emma only had a split second to savor that thought. She had no idea the two were on speaking terms. It was a small wonder in the midst of so much turmoil. Still, Josiah shouldn’t have said anything about Catherine and Melvin. “The bishop will come out in a minute to talk to everyone.”

“Then it’s true.” Miriam’s brown eyes widened. Her hand flew to her mouth. She let it drop. “Is Catherine sick? Did something come between them? What happened?”

Emma sat down on the stairs, her legs suddenly too weak to hold her. Miriam squeezed in next to her. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place to ask about this. I’ll wait for the bishop.”

“It’s all right.” Hot tears burned Emma’s eyes. She willed them not to fall. “I’m sad for her and for Melvin.” She patted Miriam’s arm. “And for you. I told Bertha to make sure she seated you and Josiah together.”

Miriam flushed. “Don’t worry about me. Josiah said he’d see me at the singing later this week.”

“So you’re talking.”

“He hasn’t shone a flashlight in my window yet, but yes, we’re talking.”

A step forward for Josiah. He really did mean to reclaim his place in the community. Emma would be relieved if it weren’t for this new setback with Catherine. They couldn’t seem to all get on the path together in that neat, organized pattern that her parents had always maintained. “Good, that’s good. I’m happy for you.”

The hallway filled with Melvin’s family. They clustered around him, silent, their faces grim. Melvin’s gaze crossed with Emma’s. She opened her mouth to say she was sorry, but he looked away. The group marched through the door without a word.

“Poor Melvin.”

They spoke at the same time.

Miriam’s hand squeezed Emma’s. “Poor Catherine.”

Emma stood. “I have to go to her.”

Miriam scooted from the step. “I’d better get back to the barn. My parents will be looking for me.”

Emma trudged up the stairs, wishing her parents were out there looking for her. Cold wrapped itself around her heart like a northern wind on a January day.
See God, this is why it’s so hard to forgive. Because the consequences of that farmer’s actions go on and on. They never stop. Seven months now and we’re still in pain. Please, God, make the pain go away. Heal our hearts
.

She peeked through the door to her bedroom. Aenti Louise sat on the bed, her short legs sticking straight out. She had Catherine’s head on her lap and she stroked her hair. Catherine seemed to be asleep. Aenti Louise put a finger to her lips.

“Can I do anything?” Emma whispered.

“Pray.”

Emma nodded. As she wandered aimlessly through the house, she lifted Catherine and Melvin up to the Lord. She lifted her family up, praying for continued healing. After a few minutes, she sighed and headed toward the kitchen. She didn’t want to be in the barn when the bishop made his announcement. She didn’t want to see the shocked faces of her neighbors, friends, and family. The aroma of goulash and roast cooking that had been so tantalizing earlier made her put her hand to her mouth as nausea swept over her.

Someone should make sure the food didn’t burn. Emma forced herself toward the kitchen door. The sound of pots and pans clanging together told her someone had beat her to the task. She found Annie scrubbing a pot so hard the washrag flew from her hand and landed on the floor.

Emma stooped and picked it up. “Careful, you’ll rub a hole in that pot.”

Annie barely looked up. “I knew she never recovered from seeing the accident. I knew it and I didn’t say anything.” She plunged the pot into the rinse water, making a tiny tidal wave in the tub. “She pretended to be so happy, but she came home from her outings with Melvin and cried herself to sleep. I should’ve said something.”

“Catherine chose her path, and there’s nothing you could’ve done to change that.” Emma pulled the pot out and let it drip for a moment before laying it on the drain. “She fooled us. She fooled herself into believing she was healed. We all share in the blame for not getting her help.”

“What do you think Luke will do now?”

Emma cringed at the possibilities. “I don’t know. He’s very angry.”

“No one will have her now.” Sadness bloomed in Annie’s voice as she bent over a dirty skillet. “Not with the shame she’s brought on herself.”

“Any man would be afraid of having her change her mind again.”

Annie dropped the skillet in the water and leaned against the tub for a second. She glanced around the room. “What will we do with all the food?”

“Our guests came here expecting to be fed. We’ll feed them, I reckon.”

“I hope so, or a lot of food will go bad.” Annie tucked a wisp of runaway hair under her kapp with wrinkled, hot water-reddened fingers. “There’s no way all this will fit into that little gas refrigerator.”

Emma’s stomach rocked at the thought of eating. “What they don’t eat, we send home with them.”

Leah marched into the kitchen, her face a dark scowl. “You’d best get out to the barn now. The bishop is fixing to start the service.”

“But there’s no wedding—”

“No, but everyone has gathered for a service. Some have come a long way. These are unusual circumstances, so the bishop has asked Deacon Pierce to speak a few words about the commitment of marriage and the sin of breaking that commitment.”

“Did he say what he’ll do about Catherine?” Annie laid the washrag on the edge of the tub. “Is she…is she to be punished?”

“I don’t remember this ever happening before.” Leah rubbed glassy eyes with both hands. “Your brother is beside himself.”

“How can he be upset with Catherine, instead of worried about her?” Emma resisted the urge to throw the towel at her sister-in-law. This wasn’t Leah’s fault. “She’s in trouble. She’s not right in her head.”

Leah dropped her hands. “Your brother is no fool. Don’t you think
he knows that?” Her voice faltered. “He’s heartbroken. That’s why he’s so angry.”

Emma clutched the dishtowel to her chest. She wanted to lift it to her face and hide behind it. Luke was heartbroken. He might be the head of this house now, but he was still her brother. “I’m sorry, Leah,” she whispered. “What will he do?”

“Whatever the bishop tells him to do.” Leah gripped the back of a chair. She lowered her head and inhaled. “We must go now.”

“Are you all right?”

Leah raised her head. “I’m fine. Go.”

Her heart a stone in her chest, Emma followed Annie and Leah from the house to the barn. Everyone turned their direction when they entered. Emma kept her head down, but she felt the gazes on her like the barbed sting of dozens of bees piercing the tender skin on the back of her neck. She slid onto the bench next to her cousins and Aunt Sophie.

“Where’s Catherine?” Aunt Sophie whispered. “Is she all right?”

Leah raised a finger to her lips. “Bishop Kelp will explain.”

Aunt Sophie gave Emma a sad look of commiseration and squeezed her hand. Swallowing hard, Emma squeezed back. She dared to look around. All gazes were forward. She closed her eyes for a second.
God, help Catherine. Help us all
.

E
mma pushed through the glass-plated double doors at Plank’s Pies and Pastry Shop. A bell dinged, a cheery welcoming sound after the dreary, sunless sky and icy wind outside. A wave of warm air enveloped her. She inhaled and her mouth watered at the aroma of baking cookies. The spicy scent hinted at gingersnaps. A knot of customers clustered in front of the display cases that held a dozen kinds of pie, along with cakes, and an array of freshly baked breads that would tempt even the strictest dieting Englischer. The Englisch women always seemed to talk about dieting. Even when they were skin and bone. Even when they were buying two dozen chocolate chip cookies or a pound cake.

Refusing to let her gaze linger on the goodies, Emma marched past them. One of the advantages of having a sister who loved to bake was that the items that weren’t too expensive to make at home were all available by simply asking. Her trip to the bakery involved a different mission. She needed to talk to Annie about Catherine. Their sister had shut down so completely she barely spoke. She never smiled, let alone laughed. They had to do something. They had to convince Luke to get her help instead of alternating between ignoring the problem and being angry about Catherine’s behavior.

“Emma. Emma, dear!”

The sound of her name being called in a tinkling, high-pitched voice jolted her from her reverie. Mrs. Jenson, her face twisted in a smirk that surely intended to pass as a smile, rushed toward Emma, her daughter and another lady in tow. “Hello, dear, I simply had to stop you. How is poor Catherine?”

The lady made it sound like Catherine had a terminal disease and might die any second. Emma opened her mouth, then shut it. Catherine had left the house that morning to go to the Jensons to clean, as she always did on Saturdays. Twice a week, Tuesdays and Saturdays. At least that’s where she said she was going when Luke questioned her at the breakfast table. Was Mrs. Jenson fishing for gossip? She would get none from Emma.