“I’M SURPRISED CHRIS WASN’T IN CHURCH TODAY.”
“Ya,” Emily said as she and Rachel climbed the porch steps later that afternoon. She looked toward Hank’s house. She’d hoped she would see Chris today and maybe even get a chance to speak to him, but his absence only drove home what she’d feared most—their friendship was over.
“Do you think he’s ill?” Rachel held the back door open for Emily to step through.
“No. I think he’s avoiding me.”
Rachel frowned. “I was thinking the same thing, but I didn’t want to say it.”
“You can be honest with me. I can handle it.” Emily hung her sweater on a peg in the mudroom. She could tell Rachel had more on her mind but was hesitant to express it. “What else do you want to say?”
Rachel hung up her sweater. “Nothing, nothing.” She stepped into the kitchen. “Would you like some tea?”
“Rachel.” Emily followed her. “Don’t be afraid to tell me how you feel. You’ll probably say something I’ve already been thinking.”
Rachel started filling the kettle with water. “He might be avoiding you, but maybe he needs a day or two to think things over. It may not be a bad thing, you know?”
“Ya. Maybe he just needs some time.” The feeling of dread that had burned in her belly yesterday continued to smolder.
Emily moved to a cabinet and pulled two mugs from the bottom shelf as Rachel set the kettle on a burner. Her gaze moved to the window, and she saw her parents walking together out of the barn. Although they both had serious looks on their faces, they were holding hands. She sighed. She longed to find a strong relationship like her parents had. Would she ever have a husband who would support her emotionally, no matter what they faced together?
Her knees felt weak as she recalled the pain and anguish contorting Chris’s handsome face when he told her he didn’t think he was worthy of the church or the community. She’d prayed for him and his family during the church service this morning. She begged God to change Chris’s mind and lead him back to the church . . . and to her.
In a moment of renewed strength, Emily longed to march over to Hank’s house right now and again tell Chris how wrong he was. She wanted to convince him to reconsider and give the community another chance, but she had to step back and let Chris come to her. She couldn’t force him to change his mind. Only God could convince him.
Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t want to cry again. She’d cried herself to sleep last night, and she didn’t want to spend today crying too.
“Em? Are you all right?”
Emily turned to where Rachel stood observing her, two tea bags in her hand. “Ya, I’m fine.” She set the mugs on the table and then pointed to the cookie jar. “There should still be some kichlin left from the batch I made Thursday.”
“Oh yeah.” Rachel set the cookie jar between the mugs. “Chocolate chip. My favorite. After I’m married, will you sneak kichlin over to mei haus so I can tell Mike I made them for him?”
Emily laughed, a true, genuine laugh, releasing some of the sorrow and despondency haunting her. “You really think you can pass off my baking as yours? Rach, you do realize Mike is much smarter than that.”
Rachel giggled. “You’re right, Em. Mike knows you’re the much better cook, but it was worth a try.”
Emily laughed some more and then wiped her eyes.
Rachel gave Emily’s arm a squeeze. “It’s so gut to see you laugh. I promise you everything is going to be okay. Just give Chris time.”
“I’ll try.”
“Gut.”
Rachel pulled her into a warm hug, and Emily rested her cheek on her sister’s shoulder. She hoped Rachel was right and Chris would come back to her soon.
“I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING.” CHRIS SAT DOWN ON A chair across from his aunt and uncle later that evening. They were in the family room. A pang of sadness crept up on him, but he tried to shove it out of the way and instead focus on his family and how much they needed him. “I got a call from my mother earlier. She had some bad news.”
“Oh?” Aenti Tillie’s eyes widened as she looked at Onkel Hank.
“What happened?” Onkel Hank asked.
When Chris told them about his brother’s house fire, his aunt and uncle both gasped. “Mamm said everyone is fine, but the haus sustained quite a bit of damage.”
“Praise God they’re all right,” Aenti Tillie said, squeezing his uncle’s hand.
“Ya.” Onkel Hank frowned. “I’m so thankful they are okay. What a horrible scare for Rosanna and the kinner.”
“I know.” Chris took a deep breath. “I want to go home to help them rebuild the haus.” His tone strained against his churning emotions. “I feel like I should. I know Paul would do it for me.”
“Oh.” This time Onkel Hank’s eyes grew wide. “I understand. When do you want to leave?”
“Tomorrow.” Chris rested his forearms on the arms of the chair. “I called the bus station, and there’s a bus leaving in the morning. Could I contact your driver and get him to pick me up first thing?”
“Ya.” Onkel Hank looked at him, his eyebrows raised, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
Aenti Tillie tipped her head to the side. “Are you ready to work things out with your dat, or do you think you’ll come back here?”
Chris rubbed one of his tense shoulders with his opposite hand. Conflicting emotions took hold of him. “I don’t know if I can ever work things out with mei dat, but I feel like Paul needs me.”
“That’s a gut start.” To his surprise, she smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“I am too,” Onkel Hank added. “We will miss you, son, but you are always welcome here.”
“That’s right,” his aunt said. “If you decide you want to come back and stay here or if you want to come and visit, your room will always be waiting for you.”
“Danki. I’m going to go finish packing.” As he stood, he felt as though a ball of ice had formed in his chest. He was about to walk away from Bird-in-Hand and sweet Emily.
He climbed the steps, then made his way into his room. He saw the tool kit Emily had given him sitting on the dresser. He ran his fingers over the cool plastic case as he recalled the excitement in her eyes when he’d opened it. He was afraid she would ask for the tools back when he told her they couldn’t be together. But he was glad she hadn’t. He wanted to take them back to Ohio with him in case he never returned but found a leatherworking opportunity somewhere else.
And because he would always treasure her thoughtfulness.
Chris crossed the room to the window and looked over at her house. He longed to see Emily’s beautiful blue eyes and breathe in her scent of strawberries and cinnamon. He’d never had such a strong bond with anyone in his life. But their relationship was forbidden. If he pursued her without being baptized, he would get her into trouble, possibly even shunned. He couldn’t risk that. Yet he longed to be with her. She consumed his thoughts.
The little voice in the back of his mind instructed him to go to Emily and tell her good-bye, but he couldn’t get his legs to move. Instead, he stood cemented in place, staring at her house and wondering if he would ever see her again.
Chris sank down onto the edge of the bed, and it creaked under his weight. By Tuesday evening, he would be back in Ohio with his family, and Bird-in-Hand would soon be a distant memory.
But would the pain slicing through his soul ever fade?
EMILY CARRIED THE PICNIC BASKET AS SHE WALKED DOWN the path leading to the harness shop Monday afternoon. Although she’d promised herself she’d let Chris come to her, she couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that he needed her. She’d spent most of the night tossing and turning as she worried about him.
When she finally pushed herself out of bed that morning, she was consumed with the urge to take him lunch. After the breakfast dishes were done and the laundry was hung on the line, she packed ham and cheese sandwiches, along with pretzels and cookies, and then headed out to the harness shop.
Unease cramped Emily’s stomach muscles as she approached the door, and she sent up a silent prayer to God, asking him to use this lunch to help Chris realize Emily still wanted to be his friend.
She wrenched the door open and walked through the showroom. Hope blossomed in her chest as she approached the work area. She was thankful there weren’t any customers in the shop, and she hoped she and Chris could get some time alone to talk and possibly even work things out.
She was surprised to find only her father and Hank working. She crinkled her brow as both Dat and Hank looked up and their eyes widened.
“Where’s Chris?” Emily shifted the basket on her arm.
Dat’s gaze moved to her basket and then up to her face. “You brought Chris lunch?”
“Ya, I did.” Why was Dat surprised? She’d brought him lunch before. “Where is he?”
Hank frowned. “Chris didn’t talk to you last night?”
“No. I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday morning.”
Hank’s face contorted to a deep frown. “You don’t know.”
“I don’t know what?” Unease swelled up in her chest. “What do you mean?” She looked back and forth between them and her unease exploded into frustration. “What’s going on?”
Dat frowned. “Chris left this morning.”
“He left?” Emily tipped her head to the side. “I don’t understand. Where did he go?”
“He went back to Ohio,” Hank said. “He went back to be with his family.”
“What?” Emily squinted. They weren’t making any sense. Then reality crashed into her, and her breath came out in a rush. “He left? For good?”
“Possibly. I’m really not sure, mei liewe,” Hank said. “His bruder had a haus fire. Everyone is okay, but the haus needs a lot of work. Chris said he needed to go home to help him rebuild. Tillie and I told him he’s always welcome to come back, but he said he wasn’t sure what he’d do after the haus was fixed.” He paused. “I’m so sorry, Emily. I thought Chris told you. He got the call while we were at church yesterday, and I assumed he went to see you before he told Tillie and me he was leaving.”
“He left.” This time it was a statement, and her body was shaking like a leaf caught in a windstorm. “He left me without saying good-bye.” Knots formed in her stomach and became balls of lead. “I can’t believe it.” She dropped the basket, and it landed with a clatter on the floor.
“Emily.” Dat shot to his feet and touched her arm. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” A torrid tide of tears burned her eyes. She took a step backward and smacked her spine against the wall, sending stinging pain cascading down her back. She had to get out of there before she started to cry. “I need to go.”
“Emily, wait.” Dat held up his hands as if to calm her. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for why he didn’t tell you he was leaving.”
“Ya, there is.” She gave a derisive snort. “He didn’t care enough about me to tell me he was leaving. Our friendship meant nothing to him.”
“No, no,” Hank insisted. “That’s not true. He told Tillie and me that he cares for you very deeply, but he’s not ready to join the church.”
She didn’t want to hear this. Nothing Hank could say would heal her crushed and dejected soul.
Emily wiped tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and pointed to the basket. “You can have the lunch. I’m going home.” Her voice sounded foreign to her, and her throat ached when she spoke.
Dat started to speak, but before he could respond, she rushed out the door and ran up the path to the house. She exploded through the back door, through the mudroom, and into the kitchen. Mamm was standing at the sink and, startled, turned to Emily.
“He left!” Emily cried, her whole body trembling. “Chris went back to Ohio today and he didn’t even say good-bye to me. He’s gone!” She leaned her head against the wall and dissolved into tears, hugging her arms against her aching chest as grief spilled out of her.
“Ach, no!” Mamm exclaimed.
Her mother’s arms pulled her into a warm embrace, and she buried her face in her mother’s shoulder as sobs racked her to her very core. A door clicked shut somewhere close by and then footsteps entered the kitchen.
“Is she all right?” Dat’s question was soft and tender.
Emily could feel Mamm’s head move from side to side as a silent response.
“Ach, no.” His voice was closer.
A strong hand caressed her stiff back. It was Dat’s hand, and the gesture warmed her soul. Oh, she was so grateful for her supportive parents.
When the tears subsided, she wiped her eyes with a napkin Mamm handed her. As she blew her nose, both of her parents looked at her with worried faces.
Mamm pointed to a kitchen chair. “Sit.”
Emily complied, and Dat sat down beside her as Mamm brought her a glass of water. Emily took a long drink, but the water did little to soothe her parched throat. Dat rubbed her shoulder, and the pain in his dark eyes was enough to make Emily sob all over again.
“I’m so sorry,” Mamm finally said, coming to sit down across from her. “Did he say why he left?”
Dat told her about the fire, and Mamm shook her head.
“I understand that he wants to help his bruder,” Emily began, her words soft and thin, “but why didn’t he say good-bye? Why didn’t he tell me he was going to leave? Did our friendship mean nothing—” Her voice hitched, and she stopped speaking, afraid she’d start crying again.
“Ach, mei liewe,” Dat said. “Maybe he was afraid to face you.”
Emily looked at her father. She’d never seen him so emotional. It was as if Dat could feel her pain. Was that what it felt like to be a parent?
“Why would he be afraid to face me?” Emily asked. “We were freinden.”
Dat sighed as he continued to massage her shoulder. “I think it’s more complicated than that. Sometimes people don’t know how to handle their emotions, and instead of facing things head-on, they run and hide.”
He looked at Mamm, and something imperceptible seemed to pass between them. It was as if they were having a silent discussion with their eyes. But Emily dismissed her curiosity as more tears filled her eyes.
“Chris’s behavior doesn’t make sense. I thought we were close. I was certain he cared about me. He said he did.” A dull ache started behind her eyes and her lip trembled.
But then guilt squeezed her lungs. She had no right to try to keep Chris from his family, but she longed for him to have told her he was leaving. His running off without a word made her feel insignificant.
“Would you like something to eat?” Mamm offered. “How about a sandwich or maybe some tea?”
Emily’s stomach roiled. “No, danki.”
Mamm went to the sink anyway, filled the kettle, and placed it on the stove. Somehow Mamm always knew what her daughters needed even when they protested.
“Emily.” Dat angled his body toward her. “I know you’re hurting, sweetie, and I’m so sorry about that. If I could take away your pain, I would.” His voice hitched, and tears threatened Emily’s eyes again. Seeing her father this emotional was almost too much for her. He’d always been a pillar of strength for each of his daughters.
Dat continued. “I think the reason he’s so confused is that he’s going through some complicated issues with his family. Maybe Chris feels he needs to go home to not only help his bruder but also work things out with his dat.” He paused and rubbed Emily’s arm. “I know this is difficult for you, but I believe you should give him a little bit of time. Don’t give up on him yet.”
Emily worried her lip. “Do you really think he cares about me?”
“Ya, he does care about you,” Mamm suddenly chimed in. “I could tell when you were together. Have faith.”
Emily swallowed a groan. Why had she invested so much of herself in him?
Dat touched Emily’s cheek. “The pain will go away, mei liewe. I know it hurts now, but it will get better. I promise, sweetie.”
“Danki, Dat.” She forced a smile for his benefit. “You can go back to work now. I’m sorry I upset you.”
“Ach, no, no, no,” he insisted. “You are much more important than my work. I wanted to make sure you were okay, and I’ll stay here as long as you need me.”
She took a deep breath against the heavy weight forming inside her rib cage. “I’ll be fine.”
“All right.” He turned toward Mamm and raised his eyebrows, as if asking her if she believed it was okay for him to leave. Mamm gave him a little nod, and he stood, looking at Emily again. “I’ll see you later. Come and get me if you need me, all right?”
“I will. Danki, Dat.”
He started for the door and Emily turned to Mamm just as the kettle began to whistle.
“Let’s have tea,” Mamm said.
As Mamm headed to the stove, Emily put her head in her hands and wondered if her splintered soul would ever heal.