CHRIS DRAGGED HIS LONG LEGS OVER THE SIDE OF THE BED and took deep, ragged breaths as sweat soaked through his T-shirt and sluiced down his back.
This was the fourth night the nightmare had repeated in Chris’s mind as if it were a movie playing over and over again at one of those Englisher cinemas. At first it began like most of the other dreams that had plagued him—Chris was in the pasture and heard Gabriel screaming for help. But this dream took a different twist as Chris ran fast enough to reach the back of the pasture before Gabriel was killed. When he arrived, however, Chris’s boots were cemented in place, and he was stuck in mud less than ten feet from where Gabriel stood screaming for help.
To Chris’s horror, he was forced to watch Mischief repeatedly kick Gabriel in the head, and all Chris could do was scream and cry as his brother died right before his eyes. Tonight he’d woken up sobbing in a cold sweat, just as he had the previous three nights.
Once his breathing slowed to an almost normal pace, Chris looked at the clock. It was only nine-forty-five. He’d barely slept thirty minutes and the nightmare had left him gasping for breath and crashing back to reality.
Chris shoved himself from the bed and pulled on a pair of trousers, socks, and a clean, plain white T-shirt. He quietly headed downstairs, where he drank a glass of water while leaning his back against the counter and reflecting on the day.
Today had been an off Sunday without a church service in his uncle’s district, and Chris had turned down the offer of visiting friends along with Onkel Hank and Aenti Tillie. Instead, he had spent all day alone, perusing leatherworking books in his room and thinking about how much his life had changed during the past few months. Although Chris had chosen to spend the day in solitude, the loneliness had nearly suffocated him. He missed Emily, but he imagined she was having a good time with her friends at the youth gathering.
Chris took a long draw from the glass and then set it on the counter. He could still feel the sting of the painful disappointment in Emily’s eyes when he’d turned down her invitation to go to the youth gathering with her. If he missed her so much, why had he turned down her invitation?
Because he didn’t feel worthy of her youth group. Emily had such a solid faith, while Chris wasn’t certain where he stood in God’s eyes.
How could God forgive Chris for letting his brother die?
Chris ran his hand down his sweaty face as the dream filled his mind’s eye again. He could still hear Gabriel’s bloodcurdling screams and then the gruesome crack as the horse’s hooves shattered Gabriel’s skull. Gabriel went silent forever, leaving Chris to sob as he stood in the merciless mud.
He took another shaky breath and swallowed back a moan. He had to find something to occupy his mind and push away the nightmares. While looking through his uncle’s leatherworking books, Chris had researched how to add designs to his projects, and he was itching to get started. Since it was Sunday, he wasn’t permitted to go to the harness shop and continue working on his coin purse project. But he could walk the perimeter of the pasture. Surely the cold October night air would help clear his head.
In the mudroom he pushed his feet into his boots, pulled on a jacket, took a lantern from a peg on the wall, and walked out onto the back porch. He breathed fresh air into his lungs and closed his eyes, willing himself to forget the horrible dream that had left him emotionally stumbling.
When he opened his eyes, he turned toward the Fisher home. The house was dark, but a lone lantern glowed on their back porch.
Curiosity shoved Chris off the porch and propelled him down the rock path. He was stunned to see Emily sitting on the glider, pulling a black sweater tighter around her green dress and slight frame. As he drew closer, the soft glow of the lantern sitting on the porch railing made her hair look more golden and her eyes a deeper shade of blue.
“Chris?” Emily’s tone was hushed, but her eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” He raked his hand through his hair. Why hadn’t he combed it? He hoped he didn’t look as disheveled as he imagined himself to be. “May I join you?”
“Ya, ya.” She patted the glider beside her just as he had Friday night when they sat there together. It seemed as if their conversation then had taken place weeks ago instead of only forty-eight hours earlier.
He climbed onto the porch and sat down onto the seat beside her, placing the lantern on the floor next to the glider.
“Did you go to the youth gathering tonight?” He was acutely aware of the scent of her shampoo. It had to be strawberry, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask and risk embarrassing both of them.
“Ya.” She sighed as she stared out toward the dark pasture.
“The youth gatherings don’t normally end until around ten back in Ohio. Do they end earlier here?”
“They end around ten here too. I came home early.” She examined her hands in her lap, and her pretty faced crumpled with a frown.
“Did something happen?”
She lifted one shoulder in an apathetic shrug. In the short period of time he’d known Emily, he had never seen her unenthusiastic about anything. Something had to be wrong.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently, hoping not to come on too strong.
Emily sniffed and gave another shrug.
Chris held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t cry. If she cried, how would he restrain himself from pulling her into his arms and consoling her?
Whoa. Where did that boldness come from?
“I’m a horrible person,” Emily whispered, her voice quaking.
“That is impossible,” Chris said, a smile teasing his lips. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”
“I’m serious.” Her gaze sharpened as it met his. “I’m terrible, and you shouldn’t make fun of me.”
The misery on her face pushed away his humor. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you. I just can’t imagine you doing anything terrible. What happened, Em? You know you can talk to me.”
“I should have stayed home tonight.” She focused her attention on her lap once again. “I spent the entire time thinking about my schweschdere, and . . . and . . .” She made a small sound that resembled a hiccup. Or was it a sob?
“Em?” Chris leaned over and touched the tip of his finger to her cheek, finding it wet. “Emily, you’re crying.” Alarm rushed through him. “Did someone hurt you?”
She wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks before sniffing once again. “No, no one hurt me.” Her voice was thick with emotion.
“Please talk to me.” Chris rested his hand on her arm. Seeing her cry was nearly his undoing. An overwhelming desire to help her overtook him. “I’ve poured my heart out to you, so you don’t need to feel embarrassed. I’m your freind, right?”
A bleak smile played at the corner of her lips, and his shoulders relaxed slightly.
“You’re using my words against me.” She sniffed again. “Very schmaert, Chris. Is that your dirty little trick?”
“No, I’m not trying to play a trick on you. I just want you to tell me what’s wrong. It’s killing me to see you cry.” He angled his body toward her, and the glider shifted under them.
“I don’t want you to think I’m a bad person.”
“I could never think that about you. What happened tonight?”
“I spent the whole time at the youth gathering thinking about the happiness my schweschdere have.” Her eyes glistened with fresh tears. “I kept thinking about Veronica and her boppli and then Rachel and her wedding. They both have found the loves of their lives, and they are froh, really and truly froh.” Her lower lip trembled. “And I’m froh for them, Chris. I really am.”
“I know you are.”
“I’ve never told anyone this.” She paused and took a deep breath as another tear traced down her pink cheek.
Chris wiped the tear away with the tip of his finger. “Emily, you can tell me anything, and I will listen without judgment.”
“Okay.” She swallowed and worried her bottom lip. “I’m jealous of mei schweschdere. I’m so jealous I can taste it sometimes, as though I think God has shown them his favor and not me. Maybe it’s okay to want what they have, but I know jealousy is a sin. I also know God isn’t withholding his blessings just because he hasn’t answered the desires of my heart yet.”
She shook her head. “God knows what he’s doing, and I should only be froh for them. After all, Veronica’s first fiancé died in a terrible accident at the shed store where he worked. She’s so blessed to have Jason. They are perfect for each other, and now they are starting a family.”
Emily paused. “Rachel’s ex-boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend. She found out when she heard them talking at Veronica’s wedding. She was completely crushed, but then she met Mike when she started teaching at John’s school. Now they’re getting married and starting a life together, which is a blessing too. I don’t have the right to be jealous when my schweschdere have been through so much. They deserve all the happiness they can find.
“But sometimes . . . sometimes”—she looked down at her lap and took a deep breath—“I get so jealous when I see Mike look at Rachel as if she were the most schee maedel in the world. And my body tenses up when I hear Veronica talk about how sweet and thoughtful Jason is.”
She jammed her eyes shut for a moment, as if her words were too painful to say aloud. “I’ve never had a boyfriend and sometimes I wonder if I ever will. I’m not picky, but I want a boyfriend who will listen to me and let me share my feelings. I want someone to cherish me and look at me as if I were the most special maedel in the world. I want God to give me what my schweschdere have. That’s selfish and wrong, isn’t it?”
Chris looked at her. Were the boys in her youth group blind? How could they not appreciate how special Emily was? “Emily, you have—”
“I know what you’re thinking.” Her voice quavered as she interrupted him. “You think I should be thankful for everything I have. There are so many blessings in my life. I have a wunderbaar home with supportive parents. I know I should be patient, waiting for God to answer my prayers for the right man and marriage at the right time. I’m terrible to dwell on what my schweschdere have.”
She sniffed. “Besides, after Rachel leaves, my parents will need me to do my chores, help out in the harness shop, make quilts, and host dinners more than ever. It would be terrible if I left home now too, right? That’s probably what God’s thinking.”
Emily looked up and her misty blue eyes seemed to beg Chris to tell her she wasn’t horrible.
Chris attempted to respond, but shock choked back his words. Emily had no idea how lovely she was—inside and out. Her worst sin was feeling jealous of her sisters? To him, that only proved she truly was angelic, just like that painting he’d seen in that Englisher church. If Chris had only met her before Gabriel’s accident, he would’ve made it his business to scoop Emily up and find a way to convince her to marry him and start a family with him. Maybe that’s what God would have wanted.
Who was he kidding? He never would have courted Emily last spring. Back then, he would’ve been too self-centered and immature to realize how special Emily was. It took losing Gabriel to force Chris to realize what was most important in life. Now his life was in shambles.
Emily blinked as more tears flowed down her cheeks. “You do think I’m terrible. I never should have told you anything. I’m going to bed.” She stood and started for the door.
“Emily, wait.” Chris grabbed her arm and tugged her back toward him.
She stumbled and then righted herself, coming to a stop in front of him with her right leg leaning against his left leg. Her breathing came in shallow puffs, and her eyes were cautious.
“I promised to listen to you without judgment. That means you have to promise not to jump to conclusions before I have a chance to share my feelings. Okay?” Chris held her arm to make sure she wouldn’t bolt into the house.
After a beat, she finally nodded. “All right. That’s fair.”
“Gut.” He gave her a hopeful smile. “Would you sit, please?”
Emily slowly sat down beside him, and he released her arm. Her shoulders stiffened as she folded her hands in her lap and sat with her shoulders rigid and her back ramrod straight, looking as if she were ready for a church service to begin instead of talking with a friend.
She angled her body toward him and licked her lips, and his mouth dried. He tried to quickly gather his thoughts before she tried to dart for the house again.
“Emily, you are the sweetest, kindest, most generous, and most amazing maedel I have ever met.”
Her eyes widened as she gaped at him.
“I could never, ever think you were horrible. You’re being too hard on yourself.”
“But jealousy is a sin, Chris.”
“I realize that, but I also think it’s natural to feel this way.”
“Were you ever jealous of Paul?” Emily looked at him as if he held the answers to all of her deepest questions.
“Ya.” That was an understatement. “I think I’ve been jealous of Paul’s expertise as a horse trainer ever since I realized I was expected to learn the trade just as well. It meant he had mei dat’s approval, and I wanted that too.” He heard the thread of self-deprecation in his words.
“Were you envious when he moved out and got married?”
“Ya, I was.” Chris rubbed his jawline. “And I was envious of his wunderbaar relationship with his fraa and also when they had their first child. I know jealousy and envy are sins, but sometimes I don’t think we can help ourselves.”
Emily’s eyes sparkled in the soft light of the lantern, and he hoped she wouldn’t cry again. “I’m going to miss Rachel when she moves out. Did you miss Paul when he moved out of your parents’ haus?”
“Ya, I did.”
A memory slapped him, knocking him off balance for a moment. He recalled standing with Paul in the hallway outside their bedrooms in their parents’ house. Paul was twenty-two, and Chris was nineteen. It was late in the evening the day Paul had married Rosanna.
Paul had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder as he grinned at Chris. “Well, this is it. I’m taking my fraa to our new haus.” He shook Chris’s hand. “You know, Chris, we may argue sometimes, but we’re still bruders. I’ll miss you. Take gut care of Gabriel.”
“Chris?” Emily’s sweet voice brought him back to reality. “Are you all right?”
“Ya.” His voice trembled with the grief of the memory. Did Paul miss Chris? He’d never seemed to blame Chris for Gabriel’s death like Dat did, but was he disappointed Chris hadn’t taken good care of Gabriel?
“I upset you. I’m sorry. I should’ve kept all this to myself, but tonight it all came bubbling to the surface. I’ve been holding it in for so long, and I just—”
“It’s all right. You’ve been a shoulder for me to cry on, and now it’s my turn.”
A genuine smile appeared on her face, and the muscles in her shoulders visibly loosened. His Emily was back. Relief flowed through him.
“You need to stop beating yourself up, okay?” He was careful to keep his words gentle. “You’re such a special maedel, and the right man is going to find you and cherish you for the rest of his life. It may seem like Veronica and Rachel have everything you want, but when it happens to you, it will be just as special.” He paused. Why was his voice shaking so much? “Just be patient.”
She nodded slowly, as if digesting his words. “You’re right. I need to wait for God’s perfect timing. Danki for listening to me. Now it’s your turn.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just poured my heart out to you, so now it’s your turn to tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.” She touched his arm. “I’ll listen without judgment. But remember, you have to let me share my opinion without drawing your own conclusions before I’m done. All right?”
“No,” Chris said quickly. “I never agreed to that.” His secrets were much worse than hers.
Emily tipped her head to the side and seemed to stare right through him. “Was iss letz?” Her eyes warmed, reminding him of the clear summer sky. “Are you afraid of losing my friendship?”
Chris grasped the back of his neck with his hand, massaging the tight muscles there. How did Emily know him so well after such a short period of time? “Ya. Maybe.”
“Chris, I’ve just shared my deepest secrets with you. I promise you nothing you tell me will scare me away.”
“Your idea of a terrible secret and my idea of a terrible secret are completely different.” Chris shifted on the glider, and it began to swing again.
“I’m listening.” She was challenging him.
As he took in her eager eyes, something deep inside of him crumbled, like a brick wall tumbling down. He couldn’t disappoint her.
Chris took a deep breath through his nose as he looked out toward the dark pasture. “I haven’t told you everything about Gabriel’s accident.” The memories of that day hit him with full force, and he choked back his words for a moment. “I told you I wasn’t with Gabriel when the horse kicked him, and when I found him he was already dead.”
“Yes. Go on.” Her words were tender but supportive, giving him the strength he needed to continue.
“I told you I was distracted, right?” He kept his eyes trained in the direction of the pasture.
“Ya, I remember that.”
“I wasn’t just distracted.” He folded his arms over his chest in an attempt to stop his body from trembling with agony and remorse. “I was trying to flirt with a maedel. Salina Chupp stopped by to talk to mei mamm about a recipe or something. I don’t remember exactly what she needed, but she was standing outside the barn when Gabriel and I were leading Mischief to the pasture. I told Salina mei mamm was at the grocery store, and Salina seemed grateful she was gone.”
He paused to take a ragged breath. “Deep down I knew Salina had had a crush on me for years. She went out of her way to make it obvious to me by giving me valentines in school and talking to me at youth group gatherings. I never paid much attention to her. I . . . I’ve never been good with relationships. But suddenly that day, I was braver than usual, and I decided to, well, respond.”
Chris looked down at his lap. “I told Gabriel to lead the horse to the pasture and I would be there in a minute. By the time I got there, Gabriel was . . . he was—” His voice hitched as the grief and regret he’d been trying to keep at bay suddenly overcame him.
Emily shifted in his peripheral vision, and he was certain she was going to dash into the house, leaving him to sob alone on the porch. Instead, she laced her fingers through his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
He glanced up in surprise. Her eyes were warm and supportive. Why wasn’t she running away from him?
“Go on. Get it all off your chest. I’m not going anywhere.” She squeezed his hand again, and the gesture gave him the courage to continue.
Chris kept his eyes locked on hers. “I let my younger bruder take a dangerous horse out to the pasture by himself while I talked to a maedel I didn’t even like. I was attempting to flirt with a maedel while my younger bruder was dying in the back pasture.”
“You didn’t know. It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was my fault,” Chris insisted, finding fortitude in the caress of her skin against his. “I never should’ve convinced Gabriel to get the horse. I deliberately disobeyed mei dat. I don’t know how I could have been so irresponsible.”
“But you told me you were only trying to win your father’s favor,” Emily said. “You said you wanted to show him you could train that horse so he would finally see how schmaert you are. You disobeyed him, but you only had the best intentions in mind.”
“That doesn’t matter in mei dat’s eyes. One of my first memories is of mei dat lecturing Paul and me about how we had to be the model sons. We were supposed to be the example for the community to follow.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s the bishop.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “He’s the bishop?”
“Ya,” Chris said, his voice trembling with a combination of embarrassment and fury. “Mei dat has a successful business, and he’s never struggled financially. His oldest son, Paul, who is his second big success, has followed in his footsteps and made Dat proud.”
Chris looked down, hoping to escape her intense gaze. “But I’ve been nothing but a disappointment to him. I never measured up to Paul. I haven’t shown interest in horse training, and in mei dat’s eyes, that’s failure. My worst mistake of all was trying to flirt with a maedel while my younger bruder died just on the other side of a row of thick trees.”
More humiliating tears flowed down his hot cheeks. Why did he have to lose it in front of Emily again? She probably considered him the most cowardly man she’d ever met.
“Chris.” Her hand gently shook his shoulder, and the scent of strawberries permeated his senses. “Please, Chris, look at me.”
He peeked up, and she traced the tip of her finger down his cheek, sending quivers swirling up his back. When she rested a hand on one side of his face, he leaned into her touch. “You’re not terrible for flirting with a maedel. You need to stop punishing yourself.”
“God is punishing me too.” He whispered the words.
“What do you mean?” Emily’s eyes darkened.
“I don’t have insomnia.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve never told anyone this.”
“You can trust me.”
He opened his eyes to see her leaning in close. She laced her fingers through his again.
“I have nightmares about Gabriel’s accident. I wake up sobbing almost every night, and then I can’t go back to sleep.” He frowned. “That’s not exactly true. I probably could go back to sleep if I wanted to, but I don’t want to relive the nightmares.”
A weight lifted from his shoulders, and he longed to share more. She looked at him intently as if her life depended on his next words.
“The nightmares always end the same way—with Gabriel dead in the pasture and me crying over him. Sometimes they start differently, but I can never save him. For the past four nights, I’ve had the same dream. In fact, I had it right before I came out here. I was going to go for a walk, but when I saw your lantern on I came over here instead.”
“What was your dream?”
He told her, and she blinked, her face full of sympathy.
“Ach.” Emily’s eyes glimmered with tears. “That’s terrible.”
“It’s my punishment. I deserve it. If Gabriel can’t live, then I should live with the daily memory of his death.”
“No, no, no,” Emily said emphatically. “That’s not true. You don’t deserve it.”
“I do.”
“God wouldn’t punish you. God forgives and heals. You need to forgive yourself.”
“I can’t.” Chris looked down to avoid her eyes.
“Chris.” Emily placed her fingers under his chin and tipped his face up to meet her affectionate eyes. “As a dear friend recently told me, you are too hard on yourself.”
A smile overtook Chris’s face. “There you go using my words against me.”
She gave a little laugh, and her eyes twinkled in the low light. “Ya, I am, but I’m telling you the truth.” Her fingers slipped from his chin. “God forgave you a long time ago. Now you have to forgive yourself.”
Emily made it sound so easy, but he didn’t know how to forgive himself. He didn’t know where to even begin.
“And you’re not a failure. You’re a kind and gentle man. We all make mistakes. That’s what makes us human. Chris, you hardly mention your mamm. Is your relationship with her good?”
“Ya.”
“Have you called her since you got here?”
“No, I haven’t.” He waited for her eyes to show signs of disappointment, but they remained supportive. “Mei mamm called Aenti Tillie, and apparently Mamm said she wants to hear from me. I haven’t gotten around to it.” Actually, I’m just a coward . . .
“You’ll call her when you’re ready. Just don’t wait too long to call her. I’m sure she wants to hear your voice and know you’re okay.”
Chris turned his attention to the sky to avoid her sweet face. He could feel the intensity of her stare as he took in the stars. They were silent for a few moments, the only sound coming from the distant hum of a car engine and a barking dog. He turned back toward her. “Was iss letz?”
“Nothing.” She blushed. “In this light, your eyes are green again. It must have something to do with the way the lanterns are reflecting the light.”
Her smile faded. Something in the air shifted between them, and the atmosphere sparked with electricity.
Chris leaned closer to her and pushed back a wisp of her hair that had escaped her prayer covering. When his fingertips brushed her cheek, a slight gasp escaped her mouth. He leaned closer, and just before his lips brushed hers, the back door creaked open.
“Emily?”