Chapter Ten

Gott sent the sun to make the outdoor chores bearable. Emma’s basket was almost full of eggs, with only one ornery chicken left to contend with. The hen set her eyes on Emma and gave her a low cluck.

“My, oh my. Why do you have to give me so much trouble?”

As soon as she took a step closer, the chicken perched at the end of her nest, flapping her wings. Emma stood tall and marched toward her. The hen squawked loudly, piercing Emma’s eardrums.

In one quick motion Emma swiped up one of two eggs and plopped it in her basket.

“She giving you a hard time?” Emma started when she heard the voice and whirled around. Caleb leaned on the doorjamb of the hen house. The morning sun was behind him, so she could only see his silhouette. One shoulder touched the wooden frame, and one knee bent forward. She could picture every detail of him without the light.

Emma stared at the chicken. “I don’t know why she doesn’t like me.”

“You take her eggs away.” He chuckled and went over, and then looked in the basket. “How many did she give you?”

“One. There’s another in there, but it’s not worth getting pecked.”

“Wear gloves.” He pulled off his own and handed them to her, and then took the basket so she could put them on.

Emma pulled the soft leather glove over her fingers and tugged it up to her wrist, feeling the warmth from his hands. They were too big, but if they would keep her from getting beat up by a chicken, she’d make them work. She took a deep breath, tucked her hand into the nest, and grabbed the egg out from under the hen. She proudly lifted the egg for him to see.

“Well done.” He held out the basket, and she set the egg in with the rest. He looked over at the chicken, now hunkered down back in her nest. “She is a tough old bird.”

“Her name is Hilda.” Emma pulled off one of the gloves.

“You named her?” He grinned, watching her remove the other glove. “Keep them if you’d like.” She handed him the gloves. “I lost my work pair, and I don’t want to get these dirty.” She pulled out a brightly colored set of mittens. “So I save them for after my work is done or for special occasions.”

“They’re pretty. Did you make them?”

She hesitated. “Zeb’s mamm made them for me.”

He was silent while he put his gloves back on. “Do you and Zeb have plans?” They left the hen house and started strolling, nowhere specific. He looked straight ahead, waiting for her answer.

“Not officially, nee.”

They were silent as the snow crunched under their feet. “Do you love him?”

She almost stopped but didn’t want to meet his eyes. It was just like Caleb to ask direct questions, but with this one she was stumped. She had feelings for Zeb and felt he would make a good husband, but the way she felt for him didn’t compare to what she used to feel for Caleb. She didn’t even try to explain.

“He’s a good man and is kind to me.” It wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but it was all she wanted to say. They continued walking quietly together, passing by the neighbor’s farm. He was one of a few people with whom she felt comfortable enough to be quiet.

Then a thought went through her head. “Are you with anyone in Philly?”

“No, not now.”

She glanced over at him, surprised. But she didn’t know why. He’d been gone for a while now and was sure to have met a number of young women there. But it brought up a strange feeling inside. They had been only with each other for so many years. It didn’t seem right for either of them to ever be with anyone else.

Splat!

Cold, wet, snow clung to the side of her cheek and slid down her chin. She looked over at Caleb, who held his side, laughing so hard there was no noise coming from his mouth. She bent over and grabbed a mitten full of snow. When Caleb saw her snowy mitten, he grabbed her arm, but she threw the flakes at him before he could make her drop it.

Caleb reached forward, ready to retaliate, when another flying ball of snow hit him smack in the stomach. “We need to get these guys.”

Emma looked over to see a group, children on up to teenagers, spread out all around a nearby frozen-over pond. Some were building snowmen. Others skated over the icy pond. But Caleb had his eye on the group with the frozen artillery.

There wasn’t a chance she wanted to get in the middle of a snowball fight. “Caleb, don’t. We’re outnumbered.”

His eyes squinted, and his snowball in hand told her it was a lost cause. “I never back down from a fight.” He began packing snowballs. “You make ’em. I’ll throw ’em.”

He pulled her to her knees before she could protest, and she began packing snow together in balls so large that Caleb could barely hold them. They made a huge impact when he hit his target. Emma laughed as they pummeled one another with the white, frozen snow, until she got hit again. Then she was grabbing from the stash she’d made, leaving Caleb high and dry.

“We’re almost out of ammo. Let’s charge.” He was so serious, she almost laughed. But she followed his orders, and they each grabbed the remaining four snowballs. She followed Caleb as he ran to the pond, dodging snowballs along the way. When they reached the opposing group, Caleb tackled the main thrower, and Emma waved her arms in surrender.

After asking the builder if she could rest on her creation, she plopped down against a wall of snow that was being made into a fort. “Don’t let Caleb smash it,” the little blonde girl told Emma.

He came over and lay on his back, breathing heavily. “Hey, I wouldn’t smash this cool-looking fort.”

“What’s cool mean?” the blue-eyed doll asked.

Caleb looked at Emma with wide eyes as he remembered it wasn’t a common word for most little Amish girls. “It means good.”

“You’ve been in the English world too long,” Emma teased.

“And not with you enough.” He sat up, draping his hands over his knees, and looked around at all of the activity. “Reminds me of when we were young, horsing around like these kids are. Good memories.”

“You talk like you want to be back here.”

Emma chided herself. She shouldn’t keep meddling. It wasn’t her business to say things that wouldn’t be answered the way she hoped they would be. He was content with his life, and she had to accept that.

“I do sometimes. But I can’t leave what God has asked me to do, even if it doesn’t always feel right sometimes.”

“You mean you’re not sure if you should be in the city?” Emma’s stomach lurched again. She forced herself to squelch the selfish excitement she felt hearing him question his calling. This community wasn’t home for him anymore, so she needed to let go of any thoughts that it would be again.

“I get confused when I come back here.” He looked down at her mittens. “But it wouldn’t be the same if I came to stay.”

She kept her eyes on him until he looked up at her. “I never pictured you with Zeb. I figured you’d be with someone, but not him.”

She hadn’t either and hearing him say it made the reality of her future even more questionable. Zeb had filled the void after a lonely time of losing Caleb. She’d never really had any time in between. “He was there for me when I needed someone.”

Caleb slowly turned away. “I’m sorry I left you like I did. It was the only way I could make myself leave. Even one more minute with you and I would have changed my mind.”

A smoldering fire began to build in her heart. She didn’t want to hear his words. They left her confused even more than she already had been. She couldn’t trust herself to discern what and why Caleb was saying all this, but she wouldn’t be his victim again. He’d broken her heart once. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to let him do it a second time.

“Your companion is your work.” She stared straight at him. “Maybe that’s enough for you.”

His brow furrowed, and he dropped his head and hands over his knees. When he looked up, his ruddy face was tight with either anger or sadness. She couldn’t tell which. She thought of apologizing, but she didn’t know what for. What she said was true.

“My bottom is wet from the snow.”

A small chuckle bubbled out of him, and he held out a hand to help her up.

She reluctantly accepted and stood next to him. “Why did you come over this morning?”

He was quiet, watching the activity on the pond, and then turned to answer her. “I lost a year. For some reason I thought I could bring it back.”

Her angry thoughts kept her captive as if the devil himself was willing her away from Caleb. He didn’t owe her anything—nothing that could be replaced, anyway.

She physically shook and stared up at him. “I guess I’m still bitter, Caleb. I didn’t realize until now.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

She nodded. “I should go.”

“Can I walk you—?”

“Nee. But danke.” She found her feet moving ahead much faster than her mind, and before she knew it, she was home. In the time it took her to make it back to the farm, she’d stuffed away his tempting words. Now, she would have the noon meal to prepare. That would keep her mind off of the conversation they’d just had.

She walked into the haus and washed up to start making some biscuits. Mamm came in with bottles of milk, Maria behind her. “Where have you been?”

“Over at the pond. Did you need me?”

“Nee, but we did need the eggs.” Mamm set the glass bottles on the counter and wiped her hands on her apron.

“Ach, I left them in the hen haus.”

Mamm made a motion with her hand to scoot Emma along. “I hope no critters got into them.”

Emma grabbed her coat and moved quickly to the chicken coop. Caleb had put them on top of the chicken lofts when he gave her his gloves. She looked down at Hilda, who was watching her intently as Emma leaned against the doorjamb. She wondered why Gott had separated her from Caleb. They connected so well.

She felt comfortable going on the trip for Mark’s sake and with deep hope that she might also find an opportunity to change hearts. But she was not comfortable if her desire to go was because of Caleb. How could she know? How could she be honest about her feelings? She sighed, hoping she wouldn’t get into a situation that she would regret.

Something told her it might be too late.