An Amish Noel. Patricia Davids
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So long as you keep true to the teachings of our faith.”
His eyes went from warm to frosty in a heartbeat. “You mean stay away from drugs.”
If he was angry with her, so much the better. “You know what I mean. Our faith has many rules, and you like bending the rules.”
“What if I say that I’ve changed? Would you believe me?”
“I would pray fervently that is true.”
“Not exactly what I wanted to hear.”
She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “It’s the best I can do.”
“Then maybe I should tell your father I’ve changed my mind.” He pulled back. A shadow slipped across his eyes.
Was it pain? Had she hurt him? That was never her intention. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s best to get our feelings out in the open. I’ll speak to your father tomorrow.”
This wasn’t about her feelings. It was about her father and what he needed. “Nee, Luke. Daed can use the help. He’s not been well. You would be doing him a great favor if you came to work for him.”
“There are a lot of fellows he could hire to help.”
“But you understand machines. You will know what can be fixed and what is junk fit only for scrap. At least he’ll make a little money off that.”
“And making money is important, isn’t it? Of course it is. What woman wants to go into a marriage empty-handed?”
She drew back in shock. “Marriage? Who said anything about marriage?”
“Zachariah mentioned it in passing.”
Her cheeks burned with humiliation. Was her father trying to force her hand by spreading the story that she was about to wed? She pressed her lips together. “He shouldn’t have said anything. Nothing is decided.”
“I understand. Amish couples like to keep things secret. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”
“Danki.” But she was going to have plenty to say to her father.
Luke’s gaze softened. “Whoever he is, Emma, he’s a fortunate man.”
His eyes pulled at her heartstrings, making her long to move into his arms and rest her head on his shoulder the way she once had. She licked her suddenly dry lips.
Roy came out of the bedroom. “I’m ready.”
Emma tore her gaze away from Luke. “I have to go.”
She followed her brother down the hall. At the stairwell, she glanced back and saw Luke was still watching her. Was it a trick of the light, or did she see regret in his eyes?
On Saturday afternoon, Emma traveled to the home of her friend, Lillian Keim. Lillian was the teacher at Alvin’s school, but the two women had been friends since the cradle. It had been Lillian who listened to Emma pour out her grief when Luke left. Lillian’s family had moved away not long afterward, leaving Emma to tell her friend how well she was recovering through letters. It was easier to bend the truth in writing. Then, two years ago, Lillian, her parents, her brother and her new little sister had returned to Bowmans Crossing so that Lillian could take the teacher’s post that had opened up. Emma was delighted to find they picked up their friendship right where they left off.
As Emma stopped her horse in front of Lillian’s house, she recognized her cousin Rebecca’s buggy tied to the hitching rail. The three of them were the planning committee for the school’s Christmas program.
“Hello,” Emma called as she entered the house.
“We’re in the living room,” Lillian called back.
Emma crossed the kitchen and turned the corner to see Rebecca and Rebecca’s mother, Ina Fisher, sitting on the sofa with cups of tea in their hands. Lillian sat in a chair facing them. She gestured toward another chair beside her. “Come and sit here. I was just telling Rebecca and your aenti your news. I hope you don’t mind.”
“What news? Hello Aenti Ina. I wasn’t expecting you to join us. How are you?” Emma approached the couch and kissed her aunt on the cheek.
Ina gave a long-suffering sigh. “Not bad for a woman my age. You young people don’t want to hear about my arthritis or my sciatic pain.”
Rebecca winked, and Emma knew she had to say something. “I’m so sorry you are suffering, Aenti. I must say, you bear up remarkably well. I don’t know how you manage.”
Apparently mollified, her aunt smiled a little. “Danki, child. I try.”
Emma sat in the chair next to Lillian. “Were you talking about Roy’s escapade? He’s fine, although I fear he may not have learned his lesson.”
“Lillian told us that Luke Bowman is working for your father. That must be odd for you.” Ina took a sip of her tea, but her sharp eyes never left Emma’s face.
“I don’t find it odd at all. Why should I?” Emma kept her face carefully blank. Ina was well-known as a gossip in the community. Emma didn’t want to fuel new speculation about Luke and herself.
Ina shrugged. “No reason, other than I do wonder if he will be a bad influence on Roy.”
Rebecca gave her mother a speaking glance. “Luke is not a bad influence on anyone. Shame on you for implying otherwise.”
Ina pressed a hand to her heart. “I didn’t mean to speak ill of him. Gracious, no.”
“I thought not.” Rebecca sipped her tea, but her frown remained.
“I was merely thinking that Roy is the age when he would find Luke’s prior life exciting.”
Lillian shook her head. “Prison can hardly be considered exciting.”
“Not to us, of course,” Ina conceded.
“Not to Roy, either,” Emma stated firmly, but she wondered if she spoke the truth. No matter how hard she tried to keep Roy from straying, she wasn’t sure she could. As Luke had at his age, her brother seemed determined to live an English life.
Rebecca set her teacup in the saucer on the small table in front of her. “We’re here to plan the Christmas program, not to gossip about my husband’s brother.”
Lillian giggled. “Where’s the fun in that? If you will step outside, we’ll be happy to talk about you instead.”
Emma chuckled. “I hope the art of gossip isn’t a lesson you are teaching our kinder at school.”
“I’m afraid it is a lesson learned more readily at home than at school.” Rebecca gave her mother a pointed look.
Ina put her teacup down, too. “Let us hear your ideas for the program this year, Lillian. This Thursday is the first of December, so we need to get moving.”
Lillian opened a notebook she had sitting on her lap. “My thought was to tell the Christmas story from the shepherds’ point of view. They were, after all, the first to hear the good news of our Savior’s birth. Emma, I’m sure Alvin told you I want him to sing a solo. He has a remarkably beautiful voice. He’s not keen on the idea. I hope you can encourage him to do it. I don’t want to force him.”
“He does sing well,” Ina admitted. “What song did you have in mind for him?”
“‘The First Noel.’”
Rebecca clasped her hands together. “It’s a lovely Christmas song and one of my favorites.”
“Will the other children have a chance to sing, too?” Emma asked.