To Love and to Cherish (9 page)

“No, me, please!” Mary pouted. “I have a story. Can I be next?”

Thomas shook his head, a pretend mournful look on his face. “Come on, Emma, the girls are going to make you look bad.”

Emma threw her hands up in the air. “And the little boy gave the bear a roast beef sandwich.”

The children roared with laughter so loud it almost covered the sound of the storm overhead.

“What?” Thomas’s exaggerated tone only made them laugh harder.

“It’s my story.” Emma shot back. “And I’m hungry. Take it away, William!”

The little boy wiggled with delight at being singled out to go next. When she was sure the children were caught up in the raucous storytelling, Emma let her own amusement subside. She used the opportunity to lean toward Thomas. “Do you think Josiah is all right?” She kept her voice soft, aware of little children with big ears.

“When they activated the sirens, he surely took cover at the hardware store.”

“And Luke and Mark?”

Thomas held up a hand. He stood and moved up the stairs. “The tornado has passed,” he called back.

Suddenly even more afraid, Emma grabbed Annie’s hand and
squeezed. Her sister squeezed back. Time to see what destruction the tornado had wrought on their home. She wanted to stay in the cellar a little longer. Leah’s face said she too feared what they would find.

“We haven’t finished the story,” Mary pointed out. “What about the story?”

Thomas pounded down the stairs and grabbed her around the waist. He swung the little girl up to the third step with no effort at all. “Nothing says you can’t finish the story topside, little one.”

Together they marched up the stairs and climbed onto the wet grass. Leah took off across the yard. Thomas strode after her. “I’ll look for him, Leah. You stay here with your boys.”

Leah stumbled. Emma caught her arm. “Let Thomas do it. Let him go.”

Leah shook her head, the fear in her eyes swallowing Emma whole. “I have to know.”

“I’ll go with him.”

Leah nodded, but her hand gripped Emma’s arm. “Hurry, please.”

Emma gently shook loose and trotted after Thomas. Her shoes stuck in the mud, making it hard to pick up speed.
Luke. Luke. Luke
. His name sang like a refrain in her head.
Give me a sign, God, that You’re still there, give me a sign
.

“There! There they are!” Thomas shouted. “Luke!”

In the distance, she saw the blue patch of his shirt. Her brother ran toward them, Mark stumbling behind him. Whole. Solid. “Luke. Mark!” She fell to her knees. “How? How? Where did you weather the storm?”

Luke helped her up. “We climbed into a drainage ditch along the road and hid in the pipe.” He looked exhilarated. “I’ve never seen a storm like that.”

“What about the others?”

Luke started toward the house. “They’re headed back to check on their own homes and families.”

Mark’s white face told Emma the experience had been frightening for him, but he didn’t say a word. Head held high, he marched alongside his big brother, his arms swinging.

Luke clapped his shoulder. “Good work, bruder. You were very brave and helpful today.”

Mark grinned. Luke wiped mud from his cheeks with his handkerchief. A few seconds later the intensity drained from his face. “Everyone all right here? And the house? Still standing?”

“The house seemed all right, but we shall see.” Emma fought the urge to close her eyes and never open them. From their vantage point, the house looked untouched. She moved forward, each step slower. They rounded the corner. The front porch remained intact. The house looked fine. Emma let her gaze roam from the house toward the barn.

Or what used to be the barn.

T
homas hopped down from the buggy and stretched both arms over his head. His muscles ached from the hard labor of the previous day. Removing the debris and preparing the site for the barn raising had taken a full week. Several more days had passed in cutting the lumber to size at another nearby barn and hauling it in, along with the other supplies. Not only would the barn have to be replaced, but the buggy, and most of the livestock. It would be the Shiracks’ second buggy in two months. And three horses were missing. Thankfully, the bishop and the deacons had agreed that the Shiracks’ situation warranted a community barn-raising with everyone donating their labor.

Thomas’s own farm had been spared, other than a few loose shingles and some downed tree limbs. He sighed. The Shiracks had much to overcome. Emma had much to overcome. He wanted to say something, do something for her, but he could never find the right words.

He was better at showing than telling. Maybe building a barn would speak to her. Of course, every man in the community plus those from several nearby towns would be building that same barn today. With a grunt, he helped Eli down and swung Rebecca to the ground behind her brother. His daughter smiled up at him. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it, Daed?”

From the mouths of babes. Instead of being discontented, he should be thankful. The sun slipped above the horizon, spilling
pink and orange rays across wisps of lingering clouds, in a glorious display of heavenly beauty. This was the best part of the day, before the temperatures climbed toward a hundred and the still, oppressive heat soaked them in sweat. As was his habit, he said a quick prayer of gratitude for the blessing of being allowed to enjoy another sunrise. “Every day the Lord makes is beautiful.”

The buggies already lined the road that led to the Shiracks’ homestead. Deep voices filtered through the dawn air. Hearty shouts of “Good Morning” and “How are you?” were like a melody in Thomas’s ears. The mouth-watering aroma of frying bacon and sausage mingled with the clean scent of freshly cut wood.

Thomas unhitched the horse and tied him close to the hay stanchions. Then he slid his tool box from the back of the buggy. With his free hand he grabbed Eli’s arm before the boy could scamper away. “Remember, you’re here to help with the barn raising. Be ready to fetch tools and lumber as they are needed. Jeb Steubing is the foreman. He will give out the assignments.”

The boy’s forehead wrinkled in a miniature imitation of an irritated adult. “Why can’t I help raise the frame?”

“When you’re older and bigger, you will.”

“I’m eight. How old do I have to be?”

“Sixteen.”

“That’s…”

Thomas watched in amusement as the boy did the math in his head. “How many years? What is Emma teaching you?”

“It’s eight years. That’s a long time. I’m big and strong
now
.”

“Is that backtalk I hear?” Thomas smiled to show he wasn’t angry. The boy’s enthusiasm for the job warmed Thomas’s weary bones. “Best behavior, son.”

With a quick, not-quite-impatient nod, Eli trotted toward a cluster of young boys who sat at a table wolfing down biscuits and gravy. Thomas turned to Rebecca. “And you, my girl, may help in the kitchen. I imagine you’ll be carrying things, too.”

“But I want to make pies.” Her nose wrinkled in disappointment.
She and her brother were two peas in a pod. They were good workers. “I want to show Teacher I know how to make a pie.”

Emma would find it hard to say no to the little girl. She had a kind heart. That was what made her a fine teacher. “I imagine the pies have already been made for today, but you can help carry them out later.”

Rebecca skipped happily toward the house, a tiny replica of Joanna. He watched until she disappeared through the front door. Time for a quick breakfast and then to work. Tables and benches had been set up nearby and the women were already carrying out the food. He cranked his head, looking for Emma. Her slim figure and shining face didn’t appear to be among the masses of women streaming to and from the house.

“Looking for someone?”

He turned. Carl Freiling propped both arms on the buggy. His face had a sort of amused looked on it, as if he’d just heard some private joke that no one else would understand.

Thomas ducked his head and picked up his toolbox.

Carl laughed. A very funny private joke, apparently. “It’s okay. The deacon gave me permission to be here.”

“I’m sure your parents are very happy.” Thomas started toward the work site. “The whole community is glad to see you rejoin us.”

“I know you’re a friend of Emma’s.” Carl whipped around the buggy and fell into step next to him. “I just want you to know I’m not going to hurt her again.”

The man had brought his Englisch ways with him. These weren’t things Thomas wanted to discuss. Things of the heart were private. Besides, Carl would never get a chance to hurt Emma again. Thomas would see to that. The thoughts swirled and seethed inside him. He’d been too reserved with her. He had to find a way to be more forward before it was too late. Thomas faced the other man. “If you’re here to work, then you need to find Jeb Steubing. He’s the foreman. He’ll have an assignment for you.”

Carl stood his ground. He scratched at his neck, his blue eyes hard. “And leave Emma out of it?”

“Yes.”

Carl smiled and let his hand drop. “That’s what I thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw the way you looked at her at the cemetery.”

Thomas started walking again. “Why are you here?”

“Emma asked me to talk to Josiah.” Carl kept pace. He was like a horsefly, persistent and annoying. “To encourage him to stay. She thought with my…travels…I would be a good person to do that.”

It was so like Emma to take pity on the man and allow him to have contact with Josiah. It was foolish, though. Carl Freiling had too many experiences with worldliness—exactly what Josiah sought. Still, Thomas would do well to learn from Emma’s forgiving spirit. “So do it.”

“Actually, I have. Twice.”

Thomas let his gaze rove over the crowd, looking for Josiah. No sign of Emma’s troubled younger brother. Thomas hoped he planned to do his share today. It would lighten Luke’s load. “Is it helping?”

Carl shrugged. “He seems more interested in my so-called adventures than why I came back.”

Exactly as he suspected. Thomas stifled a sigh. “So you’re actually making it worse?”

“I wouldn’t say—”

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

Thomas looked up at the sound of that voice. Emma’s voice. She strode toward them, an enormous platter of scrambled eggs in her hands. Mary and Lillie walked on either side of her, like matching bookends, carrying platters of bacon and sausage. Her expression quizzical, Emma’s gaze traveled from Carl to Thomas and back. Thomas struggled to find words that suddenly disappeared into a mystifying fog. “Emma…the food…the food smells good.”

“The eggs are from the chickens Lillie and I are raising,” Mary piped up. “We gathered the eggs ourselves from the chicken coop.”

“As is your job. You shouldn’t expect praise for it.” Emma’s smile softened the words. “Go put the platters on the serving table.”

“Good job, girls.” Thomas called after them. A bit of praise now and
then for the little ones didn’t hurt. As long as it wasn’t overdone. He glanced at Emma. “You, too.”

Her smile came and went in a fleeting way that left him wondering if she understood his compliment. She was doing a good job with the girls, a job she’d been thrust into by circumstances.

He opened his mouth to explain, but she spoke first. “Sit and eat. Luke will want to get started as soon as possible.”

“The weather looks to be good for it.” Reduced to talking about the weather. Thomas kicked himself mentally. “We should be able to finish by dusk without a problem.”

“When you have a chance, Emma, I’d like to talk with you about Josiah.” Carl took a step closer to her. “We’ve had some interesting discussions. I’d like to give you a progress report.”

Her expression lightened. “Oh, you’ve been talking to him. That’s good.”

“I won’t keep you from your work.” Carl took the platter from her and set it on the closest table. “We can walk and talk.”

Emma glanced back at Thomas, but didn’t speak.

He touched the brim of his hat with one finger. She nodded and turned her attention to the man walking next to her. Too close to her. Thomas watched them stroll away. What else could he do? She hadn’t assigned to him this important task of saving Josiah from himself. She hadn’t loved him once.

His appetite suddenly gone, Thomas went to find Jeb. Time to swing a hammer. Constructive, clean, honest work. That should be his focus. Even if it meant he would be alone at the end of the day. Like he had been every day for the last four years.

Emma eased farther away from Carl. His stroll at her side seemed too comfortable. There was something too familiar about it. Luke wouldn’t be happy to see them talking, but Carl wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have permission. Annie had heard from Carl’s sister that he’d
been meeting with the deacon regularly. He now attended the prayer service on Sundays.

None of that took away what he’d done to her, but it was a beginning. She needed to be supportive of his efforts and happy for his family. They needed their son back. The community needed every one of its members. Plus, she’d asked him for his help and he was trying. She smiled up at him, hoping he would see her gratitude in her face. “So you talked with Josiah. How did it go?”