To Love and to Cherish (38 page)

Thomas folded the newspaper and laid it aside. “You were sick, so we brought you to the Shiracks’s house to see the doctor.”

“I remember now. I took a bath. I don’t like baths. It’s Christmas!” Rebecca threw back her quilts. “My present for you is at Groosmammi’s!”

“Whoa, whoa.” Emma caught her arm. “You’re sick. You’ll not be galloping about until your fever is gone, and that’s going to take a while.”

Thomas stood. “We’ll go home. My mother will be worried. We can take care of Rebecca at her house.”

“Not without breakfast.” Her heart hammering in her chest, Emma stood her ground under his cool gaze. “She needs to eat. You heard what the doctor said.”

Frowning, he smoothed his beard. “We’ll eat. Then we’ll go.”

“Thomas.” Emma stopped. “Rebecca, your father and I’ll step outside for a moment. You stay under the covers until I bring you some hot tea, toast, and jam.”

In the hallway, Emma gathered up her last remaining remnants of courage. “There’s nothing between Carl and me.”

Thomas’s gaze bore into her. She was certain he could read every word written on her scarred heart. “Then promise to marry me. When the time comes, marry me.”

The words melted the icy cold around her heart. “I want to.”

“You want to or you will?”

“I need to untangle myself from this mess with Carl.” She refused to lower her gaze under his ferocious stare. “It’s the… it’s the honorable thing to do.”

“Still Carl.”

The disappointment in those two words sliced through her with all the searing pain of a fresh wound.

At first Emma thought he might simply walk away. Instead, after a long second, Thomas inched closer. She could smell his soap, clean and fresh. His dark head, hair unruly from a night of fretting, dropped. His gaze settled on her hands clasped tightly in front of her. After a second, his fingers moved to trace the veins on the back of her hand. A touch so warm and gentle it made her think of a leaf floating on a soft, spring breeze. Of its own volition, her whole body leaned toward that
touch. He fixed her with a sad smile. “Sweet Emma. You always want to do the right thing, don’t you?”

“Jah.” She could only manage that one syllable. Everything in her told her to throw caution to the wind. Let go of old fears. Let go. “Jah.”

His gaze lifted until his dark eyes enveloped her. Her whole body began to shake. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He cleared his throat. “Do what you need to do, but come back to me, Emma.”

“Soon.”

His hand dropped. He brushed past her, so close she might have reached out and caught his arm, kept him close. Emma already felt the void. She touched the place on her hand where his fingers had lingered. The breathless fluttering in her chest reminded her to inhale. “Thomas.”

Hand on the knob, he looked back. “I’ll wait. When you’re ready, come find me.”

He entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Emma stood still, unable to move. Nothing in her past prepared her for the onslaught of emotions that wrapped themselves around her head to toe like a tangled, knotted rope. She needed to sit quietly and undo each knot, each tangle. Quietly. Quickly. It was the only way she could have what she so desperately wanted.

She knew now what that was.

T
he devotions were done, the presents opened, and the meal served. Emma smoothed the pretty material of the new dress Annie had made for her. It was a beautiful green color. She stood in the living room and reveled in the quiet for a second. After the adventures of the night before, everyone was napping. Tomorrow would be a day of visiting, but today was one of prayerful devotions. They had so many blessings with the new babies and Rebecca’s safe return. Thomas had taken her home immediately after breakfast without another word or another look at Emma. His coldness had invaded her heart, making it hard to concentrate on the devotions. She had to show him she loved him, but first she had to be free to do it.

Emma grabbed her coat from its hook. Somehow she had to get to the Freiling farm without drawing attention to her absence from the house. With everyone napping, now was the time. She had to act or she would be party to Carl’s actions. Either Carl told the bishop, or she would have to do it. On trembling legs, she teetered down the stairs.

“Where are you off to?” Leah came out on the landing above, a sleeping baby in each arm. Dark circles ringed her eyes. “It’s bitter cold out there.”

“I need to stretch my legs. I’m too wound up to nap.” Emma cringed inwardly. It wasn’t a lie. She couldn’t nap, knowing what she knew
about Carl. Knowing that it stood between her and Thomas. “I won’t be long. I just need a breath of fresh air. When I come back, I’ll watch the babies and you can rest.”

“You didn’t get much sleep last night, either.” Leah winced and shifted the babies in her arms. Neither stirred. “Be quick about your walk, though. Luke doesn’t like for you to go too far on your own.”

“I won’t be long,” she promised. “Believe me, I’m about to run out of steam any second.”

It only took her a few minutes to hitch the horse to the buggy and slip from the barn. When she pulled onto the road that led to the Freiling house, Emma tugged on the reins and brought the buggy to a halt. She let the north wind cool her burning face as she contemplated what to say. What would she say if Carl’s parents saw her? Visiting on Christmas Day. Tomorrow would be the day for visiting. They would surely tell Luke of her appearance at their door.

She clucked and shook the reins. It didn’t matter. She had no choice. The thought of a little baby who still hadn’t been held by his father spurred her. The road was short. She arrived sooner than she wanted. She pulled on the reins, surveying the scene. Would she have to go to the door? What if Solomon Freiling answered her knock?

To her relief, Carl came into sight almost immediately. He trudged across the porch carrying a load of firewood. When he saw her buggy, he stopped.

“You’re here.” He clomped down the steps. “I was meaning to come talk to you after you had some time to calm down a little.”

Calm down a little? He sounded so pleased and relieved to see her. Emma gritted her teeth to hold back the ungracious words that threatened to tumble from her mouth. How could he be so self-deceiving to think she would accept his advances once she knew of his marriage to the Englisch woman? She swallowed the bitter words of recrimination. She would not stoop to his level. With a steady calm she didn’t feel, Emma slipped from the buggy and tied the reins to the hitching post. “I came to talk to you. For the last time.”

His pleased smile died. “I knew it. You finished the letters.”

“I did.”

Their gazes battled.

“You were the one person I thought would understand—”

“If you thought I would understand, why did you tell me in a letter? Why not tell me face-to-face?” Once she opened her mouth, she couldn’t stop herself. The words rushed out in a torrent she couldn’t contain. “Because you’re a coward and a liar?”

“I’m not a coward or a liar.”

“Do you remember when you first came to see me that day when I was hanging clothes on the line?”

He nodded.

For a second Emma could feel the warm heat of summer on her face and smell the soap they used to wash the clothes. “You said you’d done nothing that shamed you or me.” She’d wanted to believe him so much. “You lied.”

“I made mistakes, but I’m not ashamed. I learned from those mistakes. You have to forgive me.” His voice thickened. “A coward wouldn’t have said anything at all. I wanted time to win you back first. I thought the letters would help you understand what I went through—”

“Learned? At what cost to your wife and child?” The audacity of his claim made her want to laugh, but the ability seemed to elude her. “Understand? Forgive? You’re married to another woman. You have a baby.”

“You understand why I went. You can understand why I had to come back.”

“No. I don’t.”

“You understand wanting more than this life offers. You told me you can’t understand not giving our children a better education, more education. You can’t understand not giving them a teacher who knows more than basic reading, writing, and arithmetic. You understand not being able to live up to impossible standards, like being forced to forgive the man who killed your parents.”

“Do I wish I could do more with book learning? Yes. But I understand that our way of life depends on practical knowledge far more than anything we’ll find in books.” Like the whirlwind of emotion inside,
the fierce northern wind threatened to bowl Emma over. She hung on to her bonnet with both hands even as she tried to control her bitter anger. “As for forgiveness, I pray for it every day.”

“But not for me? I thought surely someone you once professed to love would be included in that group that you would want to forgive.”

“You’re married to another. You have a child.” Emma clamped her mouth shut. Her voice had begun to rise. Standing in front of Carl’s house was no place for this conversation. “Walk with me.”

“Yes, that would be better.” He dropped the wood in a haphazard pile next to the steps. “Daed and Mudder are napping. The barn is empty and you need to get out of this cold wind.”

He was concerned for her comfort. She would be alone in the barn with a married man. She hesitated. If Thomas found out, he’d never ask her the important question again. Yet, the circumstances demanded she do this. “Only for a minute.”

Long enough to say what she had to say.

The air in the barn felt almost warm after the frigid gale outside. She inhaled the familiar, comforting smells of hay, feed, and manure. She faced Carl. His expression said he dreaded what came next. So did she. “How could you abandon her? Abandon your child?”

“I had to do what was best.”

“For whom?” The horses that occupied the long row of stalls behind them reared their heads. One snorted as if to share in the anxiety Emma’s voice carried. “Not you or me or anyone involved in this. You courted me as if you had the right to court a woman. You made me doubt my feelings for another man who offered me the possibility of a life I dream of having.”

“You could have that life. Say the word and I’ll divorce Karen.”

The words battered Emma and bruised her heart. “I’ll never be your wife. Never. Do you understand that? You are married to another. You vowed to love and honor another for the rest of your life.”

The horses nickered again. Carl strode to the stalls. His back to Emma, he smoothed the mare’s forelock. “Do you really think I should abandon my faith for an Englischer?”

“You abandoned your faith when you left Bliss Creek. You didn’t meet your wife until later. Don’t blame her for it.”

“I thought you would see that the most important thing is to come back to the Plain ways.”

“If that were what you are doing, then I might agree, but that’s a question for the bishop. If you really plan to stay, you need to tell him what you’ve done.”

“I can’t tell him. He’ll send me away.”

“If you don’t, I will.” She clasped her cold hands to her chest. “Don’t make me do that. Stand up and be a man. Admit your sin of omission. You abandoned me a long time ago. I forgive you for that. Give Karen a chance to forgive you, too.”

Even as she said the words, Emma realized they were true. She forgave Carl. The burden rolled from her shoulder. “When you hold that baby in your arms, you’ll know you did the right thing. Maybe someday you’ll be able to bring your wife and child here. I don’t know what God’s plan is for you.” She moved to stand next to him at the horse’s stall. “But I know you’ll never find out if you don’t go back. Run, Carl, run to your future, not away from it.”

He turned to face her. His jaw worked. “I can’t.”

“You can. You have until the end of the week. Then I’ll tell the bishop.”

He shook his head. “I never expected you to be so unforgiving.”

“You’re forgiven, Carl. By me. But that’s not what matters now. You need a much greater forgiveness. Don’t you understand that?”

He ducked his head like a little boy. A little boy who needed to grow up. “Yes.”

“Good. Good-bye, Carl.”

She rushed toward the door, anxious to get away from his noisy, ragged breathing. She shoved it open and collided with Solomon Freiling. “I’m so sorry!” She staggered back, mortified at the shocked expression on his face. “I didn’t see you there.”

“No, you didn’t.” The older man’s gaze traveled to his son, who stood, not moving in the middle of the barn. “What’s going on here?”

“We needed to talk.” Carl’s voice held none of the emotion of the
previous moment. “I have a problem I must solve, and Emma was helping me. Now it’s done. Now I need to talk to you and Mudder.”

“I was just leaving.” Her face burning, Emma squeezed past Solomon and trotted across the snow-covered drive. She fought the urge to break into a run. The snow crunched under her feet, but she could still hear Solomon questioning Carl. Her cheeks blazed. He would surely bring it up to Luke that she’d been alone in the barn with his son. Surely, Carl would tell his father the truth.

Or maybe not. Truth wasn’t a virtue he seemed to relish.

Emma turned the buggy toward home. She clucked and shook the reins. It wasn’t far, but the cold seeped into her bones as the sun started to drop on the horizon. She urged the horse to pick up speed. Another buggy came into view. As it moved closer, Emma peered at the driver. Who was out in this weather on Christmas Day? Catherine. Catherine, who had been so quiet all morning and then rushed to her room after the noon meal, pleading exhaustion. Now there were two of them out and about when they should be resting. Emma’s heart lodged in her throat. Did Catherine have an equally pressing errand to run—one that couldn’t wait?

She pulled even with her sister. “Where are you going? It’ll be dark soon.”

Catherine pulled up on the reins to keep an impatient horse in line. Her eyes were red rimmed to match her red nose. Emma looked closer. It was more than the cold. Catherine had been crying. “Catherine?”

Her sister sighed. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She opened her mouth. A sob came out.