To Love and to Cherish (33 page)

Sadness gave way to a sizzling anger. He’d done this not only to her, but to a woman named Karen. Karen had given birth to a child
alone. Emma could imagine the anger, hurt, and the fear. And that devastating sense of abandonment. Emma understood the feeling of abandonment. She did not understand Carl. Nothing he could say or do would make her understand. Only in his small, cowardly mind, did any of this make sense.

“What are you doing?”

Emma jumped. She clasped the envelope to her chest and craned around to see Leah standing barefoot in the hallway. Her long chestnut hair hung loose around her shoulders. “Why are you sitting out here in the middle of the night?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Emma stuttered. She cleared her throat. Leaving the lantern on the floor in hopes that Leah wouldn’t notice her tear-streaked face and red eyes, she gathered the rest of the letters and stood. “Why are you up?”

Leah’s gaze fastened on the papers. She pursed her lips. “Indigestion. The light of dawn comes early, and you have to teach tomorrow. And make the final preparations for the pageant. Christmas is only two days away.”

“Yes, I know.” Emma didn’t need Leah to remind her of her duties. She grabbed the lantern. “Goodnight.”

She scurried past her sister-in-law before Leah could inquire about the letters.

“What were you reading?”

Too late. “Just some old letters.” She kept moving. “I think I can sleep now. Good-night.”

She dashed into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. Her stomach heaving, she bent over and fought nausea. A baby. The baby she wanted. Carl had not only abandoned her, but chosen to make a family with another. How could she forgive that? How?
God, don’t ask me to forgive
.

“Ach!”
Annie rolled over and shielded her eyes from the light with one hand. “Sleeping!”

Emma extinguished the flame. She crawled into bed, wrapped her arms around a pillow, and stared into the darkness. Carl should never
have put her in this position. Now she would have to tell the bishop. She’d have to tell Luke. Let him tell the bishop.

Carl was a married man with a family, posing as a faithful Amish person. Tears slipped down the sides of her face into her hair. She longed to confront him. To know why he thought giving her those letters was a good thing. Why hadn’t he told her the truth from the beginning? She could never be with a man already married in the eyes of God. He knew that.

His actions were unforgiveable.

W
ind whistled in the eaves of the schoolhouse. Emma peered through the window. Beautiful, icy designs glistening on the panes made it difficult to see anything. She breathed on the glass and used her sleeve to wipe a clear spot. Two more buggies had stopped on the road.
Gut
. Families were coming despite the threat of more snow on top of the two feet that fell the previous day. The children had practiced hard for the pageant. They also cleaned the classroom, mopped the floor, and moved all the desks to make room for the benches. They would have one small moment in front of their parents and families. It only happened once a year and everyone had such a good time. It would be a shame to miss it.

She added a few pieces of wood to the stove. The familiar, comforting smell of burning pine seemed to have a warming effect on her. Even with its belly blazing, the stove couldn’t heat the entire room, of course, not with that northern wind howling through the cracks and crevices of the building. She held out her hands and concentrated on the heat, trying not to think about the one thing that refused to leave her mind. Carl and his letters. Not one second alone had presented itself in the last two days. Between the preparations for the pageant and for the Christmas visiting, she was never alone. Never had an opportunity to seek him out and confront him.

Now that she wanted Carl to come to the house after the others went to bed, he had failed to appear and she had lain awake in bed, tossing and turning, anger coursing through her. She wanted to tell Luke, to tell the bishop, but first she had to talk to Carl. Nervous anticipation filled her. He would attend the pageant to see his nieces and nephews perform. But here was not the place for the conversation she wanted—needed—to have.

The door flew open and Luke stomped through it, Leah and the children right behind him. Catherine and Annie brought up the rear. They both carried casseroles for the meal to be served after the performance. Catherine’s nervous scan of the room told Emma her sister feared running into the Dodd family. The Dodds likely wouldn’t attend the pageant, though, since three of their youngest were down with the flu. Emma should probably share that information with her sister. She started forward. Aenti Louise stepped out from behind Leah.

Her mission forgotten, Emma rushed over to her. Aenti Louise almost never got out anymore. Only on special occasions. “Aenti, I’m so glad you came.” Emma wrapped her in a hug that Aenti Louise returned with equal fervor. “Get warm by the fire. Did you come in Josiah’s sleigh?”

“I did. What a ride!” Her wrinkled face red and glowing, the older woman used clawed fingers to undo her wool bonnet. “I couldn’t miss this. Lillie and Mary’s first Christmas pageant.”

Their first pageant and their parents wouldn’t be here. That’s what Aenti Louise was thinking. No one would say it aloud, but everyone wanted to make this a special day for the youngest Shirack children. “Come, sit on the front row where you’ll be able to see.”

“Close the door!” Luke yelled at Josiah and Mark, who lagged behind talking to the Glick boys. Luke tromped across the room to the stove. He stuck both hands so close to the red-hot top he was in danger of searing the fingers of his gloves. “Do you need more wood before everyone gets here?”

“Jah, that would be good.” An unfamiliar wave of happiness ran through Emma. No matter what else happened, her family rallied for
something they knew was important to their sister. If it could just hold off from snowing until the end of the evening. She took Leah’s spaghetti casserole from her and placed it on the tables they had set up along one wall. “I’m so glad you could come. The children have worked so hard. Is it snowing yet?”

Leah grimaced and held her belly with both hands. “No.” Her response sounded more like a grunt. Her breathing ragged, she plopped down on the closest bench. “But it looks like it will any minute.”

“Are you all right?” Emma set the cake down. “Should you be here?”

“I want to see William present his poem.” Leah grimaced. “It’s just indigestion. I always have it during the last month. With both boys, it was bad. I wonder if that means it’s another boy.”

Aenti Louise changed spots so she could sit next to Leah. “I expect we’ll know soon enough.” Her feet barely touched the floor. “The baby has dropped. I can tell by the way you walk.”

Feeling left out of the conversation, Emma wished she knew about these things. She had no experience with having babies. She was old enough to remember when Mark, Lillie, and Mary were born, but she’d been kept in the background most of the time. She had only a vague understanding of what went on. What little she knew had been startling and amazing. Mudder never spoke of it. Now Emma kept silent, hoping to learn more so that some day she would be prepared for her own baby’s birth. Someday.
God, please
.

“Then why do I still have such indigestion?” Leah went on. She wasn’t complaining. She sounded like she really wanted to know. “The baby shouldn’t be pressing on my stomach as much.”

“Big baby.” Aenti Louise patted Leah’s belly with a proprietary air. “Have you made arrangements with the midwife?”

“Yes. If the weather allows, we’ll go to the clinic when the time comes.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Leah shrugged. “Joseph was born without her help. I’m sure we’ll manage.”

The door opened. Helen Crouch’s brood traipsed in, bringing with
them a gust of cold air, ending the conversation. Thomas and his family flowed in right behind the Crouches. Emma stopped in her tracks. She took a deep breath and went to welcome them.

Thomas smiled. “Merry Christmas.”

She inclined her head. “Merry Christmas.” She couldn’t help herself. Her gaze slid over to Helen, who was directing the placement of a pecan pie and a plate loaded with brownies on the table.

“We didn’t come together.” Thomas sidled closer. “By chance, we arrived at the same time.”

“No need to explain.” Emma took a step back and felt the heat of the stove singe her hands held behind her back.

“Apparently there is—”

“No, there’s not. I…” She shut her mouth. She had no business chastising Thomas when she was so thoroughly embroiled in Carl’s mess. “I’m sure you’ve been working hard.”

“As you have with the wedding and the pageant.” Thomas rubbed his hands over the stove. “I’m sorry about Catherine.”

“Me, too.”

Thomas leaned closer. “We have to talk—”

The door opened and a fresh wave of families flowed in, bringing more icy wind with them. Whatever Thomas planned to say died on his lips.

Carl and his sister and her children were among the new arrivals. Thomas’s expression didn’t change, but he moved away. With each step, Emma felt a greater distance that had nothing to do with geography.

She whirled and busied herself putting more wood on the fire. It roared. Carl would see her face and know. Know that she knew his dark secret. She couldn’t confront him now, not with the pageant about to start. She gazed around the room, counting children. Everyone had arrived. Avoiding eye contact with Carl, she trudged to the front. “Children, children!” She clapped her hands together. The noise quieted. “Gather round. Quickly, now.”

They crowded behind the sheets they had rigged from one corner to
another to make a “backstage” area. Everyone wore his or her costume as instructed. “Quiet now!” Except for two or three of the little ones, the children’s whispers subsided. Emma put a finger to her lips. The offenders were silenced.

Butterflies unexpectedly dove and spun in her stomach. She stood in front of a classroom every day, but this was different. A group that included nearly all the men of her community faced her on the other side of the sheet. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and slipped out from behind the sheet. The faces in the audience were friendly and expectant. Everyone enjoyed this one time a year when their children were allowed to shine. Emma’s nerves calmed.

“Welcome to our Christmas Pageant,” she said. “The children are very glad you could come. I present our pageant.”

That concluded Emma’s duties. The children would handle the rest. Giggles floated from behind the sheet. She held up one corner and fixed her scholars huddled in the corner with a stare. The giggles subsided. “Donald!” she whispered. “Now.”

His homemade beard slightly askew, Joseph tromped onto the “stage.” Mary waddled behind him with a pillow under her flowing robe. “Are we almost there, Joseph?” Naomi’s voice held a whine so real, Emma hid a smile behind her free hand.

Joseph stumbled over the hem of his robe and nearly fell. Mary grabbed his arm and her pillow fell to the floor. “Oh, my.” She swooped down and stuffed it back in place. Amused smiles assured Emma that no one in the audience minded the misstep.

Things moved quickly after that. The hymns were beautiful and even the little ones seemed to remember all the words they’d so carefully practiced. The skit with the innkeeper drew lots of laughter, and everyone clapped after William recited the little poem he’d written himself about the baby Jesus.

The children were halfway through the final hymn, “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” when a sound that was half groan, half shriek overcame their rowdy rendition that included two new verses they’d written themselves. Emma let go of the sheet and rushed forward.

Leah rose from her seat on the front bench. She clutched at her stomach and took two steps forward. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “The baby’s coming. Now.”

With a groan, she sank to the floor.

E
mma squeezed through the crush of people surrounding Leah in the center of the classroom. Annie, Catherine, Josiah, Mark, even the twins, formed the innermost semicircle around the spot where their sister-in-law huddled on the wooden floor, her arms clasped to her big belly. Trying to ignore their stricken faces, Emma knelt next to Leah and put a hand on her shoulder. Leah gasped and started to rock. Emma looked up at Luke, who held back his two squirming boys with both hands. William was crying and Joseph looked close to tears. “What do we do?”

His face frozen in consternation, Luke didn’t answer. Aenti Louise elbowed him. “Luke? Your wife needs you.”

Letting go of the boys, he jolted away from the sharp elbow. “I know, I know.”

Joseph ran to his mother. “Mudder, get up. It’s time to go!”

Emma tugged him away. “Go to Josiah. He’ll take you home. Your mudder will be right behind you.”

She nodded at her brother, who grabbed both boys by the suspenders and backed them away, their little arms flailing. “Out of the way, boys. Little ones must stay out of the way.”

Luke put both hands under Leah’s arms and tugged. “We need to get her up. Get her in the buggy. I’ll take her to the clinic.”

“No, no, it’s too far! Take me home! The pain’s worse this time. It’s coming faster.” Leah panted. Sweat shone on her face, and she clutched at her middle. “I’m sorry about the pageant.”

“Don’t you worry about it for one minute!” Emma squeezed her hand. “Babies come when they’re ready. There’s no stopping them.”

She sounded like she knew what she was talking about. How she wished she did. “What do you think, Aenti?”

“I need to take a look at her before we decide. We don’t want to have this baby in a buggy halfway between here and home.” Aenti Louise clucked and fanned her stubby fingers in the air. “Everyone, the pageant is over. It’s time to go. Take some food with you. Not the dish you brought. We’ll call it a recipe exchange, and then we’ll call it a night.”

“I want to stay!” Annie began. “I can help.”

“Me, too.” Catherine chimed in. “We can—”