To Love and to Cherish (4 page)

“Maybe at a time like this I need to talk to my friends.” His voice wavered between harsh and tearful tones. She could see the little boy inside busting to get out. “And I didn’t call. I texted and I listened to a voicemail.”

“Texted?”

“Yeah, you know, typed messages.”

“Splitting hairs. You have friends here. People like Miriam. She’s been waiting for you to approach her.”

“I don’t know what to say to her. Things have changed.”

“Her feelings for you haven’t.”

“I can’t help that.”

“You’re not trying.”

Josiah smacked his fist against his open palm. “You of all people should understand. You saw how Carl needed to leave.”

“And I know what Miriam will go through if you don’t mend your ways. You have to get rid of that thing. Now, before Luke finds out. Before Leah finds out.”

“What do you want me to do?” Josiah shrugged. “Throw it in the trash? I’m not doing that. It belongs to Sarah.”

“Why did she give it to you, then? She knows it’s forbidden. The bishop doesn’t allow it.”

“She knows, but she couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to talk to me.”

The significance of what he was saying hit Emma like an enormous boulder shaken loose in an avalanche. “You and Sarah are…”

He nodded. “We are.”

“It has to stop. No more.” The dark, gaping tunnel that Miriam would face opened in front of Emma. The sight was all too familiar. Emma had walked through it alone, and the memories still haunted her. “Please don’t do this to Miriam. She’s been waiting patiently since you went to Wichita. She doesn’t deserve this.”

The belligerence drained from Josiah’s face. He ducked his head. “I’m sorry about Miriam. I didn’t plan this. Sarah and I became friends and then we realized it was more than that. Miriam is a good person, but my feelings are for Sarah now.” His hoarse voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re not my mother. And anyway, the decision is mine. Mudder and Daed would tell you that if they were here.”

He held the phone close to his heart as if she might try to snatch it away. “I’m only doing what you didn’t have the strength to do. You wanted to go with Carl, but you were too afraid of what Daed would say. So now you’re stuck here all alone, no husband, no children. An old maid.”

The cruel words sliced through her like the molten poker Luke used when he made the horseshoes. The truth at the center of Josiah’s malice dared her to deny it. She had missed the opportunity for her own children because of Carl’s decision, but she’d never considered going with him. No matter what it cost, it wasn’t worth her faith. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Carl never asked me to go with him. If there was one good thing about him, it was that. He never asked me to abandon my family or my faith.”

“Because he figured you were too scared. Too weak.”

“No, too strong.”

They glared at each other. The air around them seemed to quiver with animosity. It was more than Emma could bear. On this day of all days, she needed her brothers and sisters to be close. “Throw the phone away. Get rid of it. Now. Go find Miriam and apologize.”

“I can’t.” He punched buttons on the phone and held it to his ear, a look of pain mixed with bravado plastered across his face. “Daed and Mudder are gone now. Life is short. I have to do what makes me happy.”

“You’re not an adult. You’re only seventeen. You don’t get to decide—not yet.” She snapped forward and tried to snatch the phone away. He danced back, leaving her hand dangling in empty air. “Give it to me.”

“No.”

If she couldn’t discipline Josiah over a phone, how would she make him see reason on other, bigger things? She stood still and breathed. After a few seconds, she looked him in the eye and spoke very softly, so softly he had to lean forward to hear. “Then take it to the barn for now. I want you to have Sarah come and get it. Immediately.”

The emotion faded from his face. He shoved the phone in his pocket and headed toward the door. A snippet of wire hung from his waistline. “What is that?”

He glanced down. “Oh, that.” His face reddened again. He snatched the wire up and the flat box he’d carried in his hand at the Kauffmans’ appeared. “It’s an iPod. You are so out of it, sister.”

She’d heard of iPods. She wasn’t so
out-of-it
that she didn’t know what it was. But she’d never seen the little electronic box that allowed people
to listen to all those songs like they played on the radio at the restaurant in town. “You can’t listen to music on that thing. It’s forbidden.”

Josiah shook his head, his expression full of disbelief. “It’s only music.”

“It’s worldly. It’s obvious that it has led to feelings you shouldn’t be having, thoughts that are taking you to places you shouldn’t go. Take it to the barn with the phone.” She pointed at the door. “Now.”

Muttering under his breath, Josiah shuffled toward the front door. His hand reached for the knob, then dropped. He turned back. “You know that verse that says,
This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it?”

She nodded, even though she knew where the question was headed.

“How’s that working out for you?”

He disappeared through the door before she could answer. Thankfully. She had no answer. It seemed God had forsaken her. And now Josiah had chosen a road that could take him far, far away. Who could rejoice on a day like this?

The enormity of Josiah’s actions stunned her. Luke couldn’t know. The elders couldn’t find out. Did her brother understand the kind of trouble he could get into? And the trouble he brought on her by putting her in the position of knowing about his sin? Miriam stood to lose the most. Would she be able to keep her promise to remain silent? Emma would understand if she didn’t. A broken heart and a violation of the Ordnung at the same time. It had to be wrenching for her.

Emma bent over for a second, fighting lightheadedness. Josiah’s words had cut deeply. She had no husband or children because she’d been unwilling to leave her family and her faith. She’d done the right thing. Still, it seemed as if she were the one being punished, not Carl. She was stuck, unable to move forward because of his betrayal.

“Are you all right?” Thomas stood in the hallway, his sharp features dark with worry. “Do you need to sit down?”

Emma straightened and smoothed her apron. “I’m fine. I need to prepare for the viewing.”

Thomas drew her toward the kitchen. “Your face is white. Sit—I’ll
bring you a glass of water. The men are placing the caskets. You have a few minutes.”

He dodged Aunt Bertha, who carried some sort of casserole, and grabbed a glass from the open shelves. Emma took a quick look around. No Miriam. She was probably too overwrought to help in the kitchen. Emma prayed she had a friend she could confide in. Someone to help her through her pain, as Annie and Catherine and the cousins had done for Emma.

Thomas handed the water to her without speaking. The lump in her throat might not allow her to drink it. The quiet in the kitchen permitted her to breathe in and out without fearing someone would know she was falling apart inside. She sipped the cool water and the lump eased a little. “Danki, Thomas.”

He nodded, then shuffled from one foot to the other. His gaze dropped to the floor. He was never a big talker, at least not in her presence. She set the glass on the table. “I should help with the viewing.”

“Jah.” He ducked his head. “I baked two loaves of bread and a lemon cake…”

The image of Thomas in an apron, kneading dough, lightened her mood for a moment. “I didn’t know you baked.”

“I do many things I had no need to do before.” Before Joanna died. His matter-of-fact tone made Emma’s heart ache for him. He gave her a rueful smile. “I want Rebecca to learn. My mother and sisters help, but it’s not the same as having a mother at home. I can’t teach her to sew and do all the womanly things Joanna would’ve wanted her to know.”

Joanna had been a lovely person with a gentle spirit. Emma recalled her as a woman who never had an unkind word for anyone—just the right person to bring a shy, awkward man out of his shell. Thomas knew about loss. “I don’t know how you do it.” She straightened her kapp. “I don’t know if I can. Luke has decided he will sell his home and move his family back here. Leah and the children and us all under one roof.”

Thomas wiped his hands on a towel. “I know. He told me.” His gaze caught hers. “That worries you. Living with Leah.”

He was an observant man. It shamed Emma to admit her misgivings.
She hadn’t told anyone, not even Catherine or Annie. “Jah,” she whispered. “Does that make me ungrateful? It is a sacrifice for them.”

“Change that comes from tragedy is bound to be hard.” This time his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ll learn to get along with Leah—”

“Do what with me?” Leah stood in the doorway, her round face frowning once again. She glanced from Thomas to Emma. “Are you talking about me?”

“No. Yes. I mean…” Emma stuttered. “I was just telling Thomas that you and Luke are moving here to help with the farm and the children.”

Leah’s frown deepened. “You should be helping instead of chattering with Thomas. The twins are racing around like little vermin and Luke is looking for you. The viewing line is forming. You should be there.”

Emma jumped to her feet. “I’m coming.”

Leah whirled and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Emma biting her tongue to keep from saying something ugly. To her surprise, Thomas chuckled. “God strengthens our characters in ways we may not appreciate, but like the Father He is, He knows what is best for us.”

Emma squared her shoulders and started for the door. “Does that mean we have to like it?”

She made it halfway down the hallway when a solid rap at the front door drew her away from the viewing area. Probably a latecomer. Emma hoped it wasn’t more food. The tables were practically groaning under the weight of the dishes. The cabinets in the kitchen were crowded with pots, platters, and bowls. They’d have to start putting dishes on the floor.

She opened the door. Bob Cramer, his John Deere hat shoved back on his sun-wrinkled face, stood there, looking like he wished he were anywhere else in the world. A chubby woman in a black dress stood next to him. He held a casserole dish in two meaty hands while the woman clutched a pie tin in hers.

“Mr. Cramer.” Emma’s throat closed up. The last person she wanted to see on the day of her parents’ funeral was the man who killed them. “What are you doing here?”

He thrust the casserole at her. “Sorry to intrude on your day of mourning, ma’am.” Not knowing what else to do, Emma took the dish. Mr. Cramer jerked his head toward the woman. “This here’s the missus, Lois Cramer. She made the lasagna. And the pie.”

Mrs. Cramer craned her head as if to look over Emma’s shoulder. “It’s cherry. Made it myself this morning.”

Emma’s feet were cemented to the floor. She cleared her throat. Duty dictated that she should let them in. They’d come to mourn with her. She cleared her throat again and took two steps back so they could pass. “It’s nice of you to come.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not staying.” Mr. Cramer shifted, but he didn’t enter. “I just wanted to say again how sorry I am for what happened.” His voice choked. His eyes reddened. “Worst thing that ever happened to me.”

To him? Worst thing that ever happened to Emma and her family. She choked back the words. “Do you need a glass of water?” she asked.

“You’re so sweet, dear.” Mrs. Cramer whipped past Emma and set the pie on the nearest chair. She immediately returned to her husband’s side. “What my husband means to say is if we can do anything for you, anything at all, please call—I mean come by…You know what I mean. Just ask.”

Emma opened her mouth. Closed it. The sound of steps behind her gave her a reprieve. Luke appeared at her side. “There you are. The twins need your attention.” His words trailed off. “Mr. Cramer. How kind of you to come. Would you like to come in?” He frowned at Emma but didn’t remark on her lack of hospitality. “The viewing is almost over. We’ll be leaving for the cemetery soon, but you’re welcome to join us.”

“No, no.” Mr. Cramer’s face turned a red so dark it looked purple. “I was just telling your sister if there’s anything you need, you just holler. I noticed you still got wheat out there. You need help harvesting, you let me know. I’ve got equipment and farmhands. We’ll get you taken care of in a jiffy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Luke smiled, nothing in his response reflecting the fact that they could never use the farmer’s equipment. “I appreciate the offer, sir.”

“Least I can do.” Mr. Cramer ducked his head. “If it weren’t for me—”

“Everything is as God planned it.” Luke held out his hand. “I told you. You’re forgiven.”

How could he do it? How could he be so forgiving? Shame coursed through Emma. She framed the words, but nothing came out. Her voice was locked in a painful battle with her heart.

Mr. Cramer grabbed Luke’s hand and pumped it. Luke winced, but managed a smile.

“We won’t keep you.” Mr. Cramer doffed his hat at Emma. He and his wife walked down the steps toward an old green truck. They held hands.

The wind caught Mrs. Cramer’s high voice and whipped her words in the air. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”