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Courting Emily
By Amy Lillard KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
Copyright © 2015 Amy Lillard
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4201-3456-8
CHAPTER 1
"Emily? What are you doing out here all by yourself?"
Emily Ebersol jumped as the voice sounded behind her. She whirled away from the sight of the beautiful Thoroughbred horses that Abe Fitch and his nephew kept and turned to face Becky Riehl. "W-what? I mean, jah. I'm fine."
Becky's gaze followed the line of sight and watched as the horses frolicked and played. Twin dimples dented her cheeks as she turned her attention back to Emily. "I didn't ask how you were. I asked what you were doing out here alone. There is a wedding celebration going on at the house." She gestured behind her toward the rambling farmhouse Andrew Fitch shared with his onkle Abe.
"Jah. Right." Had she been so deep in thought that she hadn't even heard the teen's words correctly? "I just—" Needed a break? Had to get away? Wanted some time alone? She dipped her chin toward the pasture. "You know."
Becky stepped up to the fence and folded her arms across the top wooden slat. "They are schee."
Emily allowed her gaze to wander back to the beautiful horses dotting the lush green field. The scene was pastoral and peaceful yet it brought her no comfort. "Why aren't you with the others at the singing?"
Caroline and Andrew's wedding was over, but the celebration had just started. There would be a singing in the afternoon and another in the evening with more food and cake in between.
Becky made a face, somewhere between a smile and a grimace. "They're still getting everything ready, but I don't think I'm staying."
"Is Billy Beiler sitting with someone else?"
The young girl sighed. She'd had a crush on Billy as long as Emily could remember. Even when they were both in the schoolhouse and Emily was their teacher.
"You know tradition," Emily said. "He'll sit with a different girl at each singing. All the buwe will."
Becky sighed again. "That still doesn't mean he'll sit with me."
As true as the statement was, Emily could offer no rebuttal. What sort of advice could she give? The one man she wanted had left the Amish entirely. She hadn't heard from Luke in months, even with all of his promises to call. And she worried that by now he had forgotten all about her. She pushed the thought away and concentrated on the girl before her. "He surely can't sit with you if you are out here with me."
"Will you go in with me?"
"Of course." Despite the differences in their ages, Emily had always gotten along well with Becky. She supposed it was the other things they had in common that bonded them together. Like the fact that both of their families relied on dairy animals for their primary living and the number of girls in each house. Both Emily and Becky had four other sisters to share the burdens of cooking and cleaning.
Emily linked her arm with Becky's and turned them back toward the house where the wedding celebration was in a small lull. The first round of dinner had been served and the next wave was waiting.
The last thing Emily wanted was to go back into the house and watch her friend Caroline with all her weddingday happiness. It was petty of her, she knew, but seeing her friends and their pleasure together was almost more than she could take in such a large quantity. She'd have to pray about it tonight. Maybe again in the morning.
If only Luke hadn't left.
"The twins were sad when you didn't return to teaching this year," Becky said as they made their way up the drive toward the house. "Little Norma, too."
"Jah. I miss teaching them and seeing them each day." She was sad as well, but her father had decided she needed to be at home helping with her mother's cheese-making business. Maybe one day she could convince Dat to let her go back to teaching. Until then, she was doing all she could to make the best of the situation.
Normally the singing would be held in the barn, but it was a beautiful, early fall day, and the benches had been set up around back. The weather in Oklahoma was typical: the sun shone bright and the wind ruffled the leaves in the trees. It was far too nice of a day to sit indoors.
"Dat thought it would be best for me to help with the girls and with Mamm's business."
Becky nodded as if she understood, but the young girl would never truly know how Emily felt. Teaching had been the one thing that had been hers and hers alone. To have to give that up mere weeks after Luke had left ... Well, she had prayed and prayed. Maybe she would understand one day herself.
They had just rounded the corner when Elam Riehl, Becky's older brother, approached, the brim of his hat pulled low over his eyes. "There you are, Becky. It's time to go."
Becky bit her lip and cast her glance to where the young people were starting to settle themselves in their seats. "Can't we stay just a little while longer? The singings are just about to begin."
Elam shook his head. "Ach, no. The cows have to be milked whether there are singings or not." Then he added, "Goedemiddag, Emily," as if he had only then realized his sister wasn't alone. He tipped his hat toward her, settling it a little higher up on his forehead.
"Goedemiddag," she returned.
Why had she never noticed before how big Elam was? Maybe she only noticed now because his bulk seemed to block the sun. Or perhaps that was the fault of his serious green eyes and stern mouth.
His demeanor brooked no argument and something in Emily hated the disappointment on Becky's sweet face. It wasn't her fault the cows needed to be milked. "If it's okay with your bruder, I can take you home if you want to stay for the singing."
"You will?" Becky gushed, then she sobered slightly as she turned back to Elam. "Is that allrecht?"
He seemed to weigh her words, against what Emily didn't know. Had he always been this serious? "Jah, fine. I suppose I can do without your help for a spell. But you can only stay for the first singing. After that Mamm will need help gathering eggs and such."
"Danki, Elam." Becky flashed her dimples in her brother's general direction, then looped her arm with Emily's once more. "Let's go, Em. Maybe we can still get a gut seat."
Emily allowed herself to be dragged across the yard. She only looked back once to see Elam staring after them, hands on his hips and a saddened look tainting his features.
Elam was careful not to let the screen door slam behind him as he entered the house. He kept his hat on as he made his way across the living room and into the kitchen. Just a quick glass of water, then it was on to milking. He stood at the sink and poured himself a drink, staring out the window at the backyard as he took a sip.
"Elam, is that you?"
"Jah, Mamm."
He heard the bedroom door close behind her, then her soft footsteps as she came down the hall. He turned and waited for the woman he had called mudder since he was eight years old. After his own mamm had passed on, his father decided that two men had no business being without a nurturing hand. As far as Elam was concerned, it was the best decision James Riehl had ever made.
"Is he sleeping?" he asked as she appeared at the kitchen door. Her eyes were heavy and tired and deep lines bracketed her mouth.
"Jah." She shot him an encouraging smile as if to say everything was fine, but they both knew that wasn't the truth. Things hadn't been all right in a long time.
"Where's Becky?" she asked.
"I let her stay at the wedding. They were about to have a singing."
Mamm nodded. They both wanted Becky to have as normal a rumspringa as possible. Jah, she was needed at home, but there were other things important in life as well. Yet the attempt at normalcy was beginning to take its toll.
"Emily Ebersol offered to bring her home. Are the twins here to help?"
Mamm smiled, and this one almost reached her tired blue eyes. "They took the girls down to the pond to fish. I thought that would be gut for natchess, jah? Fresh katzfisch?"
"Jah."
"I can call them back if 'n you need their help." Elam shook his head. "I'll go fetch them." He needed them to sweep the floors, help with the milking machines, and tote the milk to the cooler. Even with them, there was still so much to do.
"Joy?"
At the sound of Dat's call, Mamm turned. "I was so hoping he would sleep until supper." She sighed, the sound resigned and heavy.
Guilt stabbed at Elam. "I should hire you some help. Or at the very least make the girls help more." But neither choice sat well with him.
How much longer could they go on this way? How much longer before one of them broke?
Mamm turned back, patted him on the cheek, and attempted her smile once again. "I am all right, Elam. If any help gets hired, it would be for you. Now go get your milking done. There is nothing to worry about here."
She made her way down the hall, but Elam knew: there was plenty to worry about. Plenty more and then some.
Emily bumped shoulders with Becky as the horse cantered along. The singing had gone almost according to plan. Billy Beiler hadn't sat with Becky, but he had talked to her a bit afterward.
Yet Emily had to cut their chat short, haunted by the somber look in Elam's eyes as he told his sister to come home right after the singing. It wasn't just his eyes though. His whole demeanor was chock-full of seriousness and woe, as if he carried a burden too big for even his broad shoulders to manage and too precious to share with others.
"Is Elam always that ... stern?" She tried to pick a word that didn't sound so negative.
"I prefer to think of it as thoughtful," Becky chirped. It was amazing to Emily that Becky was so bubbly while Elam was not.
"Thoughtful then," Emily amended.
Becky shook her head. "Only since the accident."
How had she forgotten the terrible accident that had rendered James Riehl practically helpless? Or maybe she had thought in the year since he had been kicked in the head by a cantankerous milk cow that he had somehow become whole again.
"How is your dat?"
"The same." Becky shrugged, though her dancing blue eyes dimmed just a bit. Was her perpetual joy just a front to hide the stresses at home?
Regret swamped Emily. She had been so caught up in her own problems that she hadn't given the trials of others a second thought. Her father would be so disappointed if he knew. Just one more thing she needed to pray about. The Amish always cared for their neighbors, always looked after the community. That philosophy went double for a bishop's daughter. She had fallen down on both accounts.
Emily bit back a sigh as she turned the buggy into the packed dirt drive that led to the Riehls' dairy farm. She didn't know how many cows they kept, but she knew their property stretched almost into the next county. Was Elam taking care of business by himself ? There were no other Riehl sons, but surely a cousin or two came around to help from time to time.
She pulled the horse to a stop. Surely ...
"Danki for the ride, Emily. That was sure gut of you."
"Gern gschehne," she replied though her attention was centered on the rambling farmhouse and its peeling paint.
She hadn't realized the Riehls had fallen on to such hard times. Did anyone in the district know? She'd have to ask her father about it the minute she got home.
"Becky," she started. "Can I stay and help you gather the eggs?" She wasn't sure where the words came from, but once they were said, she was thankful for them. She had been wallowing in her own problems for far too long.
"You'd do that?" Becky's eyes sparkled, then her smile faded. She shook her head. "Danki, Emily. That is a kind offer to be sure, but the chickens are my responsibility."
As if they had tarried too long, Elam emerged from the milking barn, a scowl marring his handsome features.
The thought drew Emily back. Elam was a handsome man, or at least he would be if he didn't look like he'd taken a big bite from a green persimmon.
"Becky, time to work."
The young girl gave a quick nod, then turned her gaze back to Emily. "Thank you again."
"Becky." Elam propped his hands onto his hips, his impatience evident. "Mamm needs you inside."
"Jah, bruder." She turned as if to go into the house, but not before Emily saw the shine of tears in her blue eyes.
"Some potatoes for you?"
"Huh?" Emily turned as her sister Mary nudged her shoulder to get her attention. "Oh, jah. Danki." She took the bowl from her sister though her thoughts were still on Elam's stern frown and the glitter of tears in Becky's eyes.
"Have you heard from Luke?" Mary leaned close as she handed off the bowl full of mashed potatoes, her voice so soft only Emily could hear. "Jonah Miller said he called his uncle yesterday."
At the mention of his name, thoughts of all others fled from her mind. "He did?" It was hard to temper her response to a whisper when she really wanted to shout with glee. Luke had called!
"Jah."
Her heart thumped hard in her chest. "Who told you that? Aaron?"
"Girls." Their father glared at them from the head of the table.
"Jah, Dat," Emily murmured, passing the potatoes on to her sister Susannah. She'd have to talk with Mary later, after supper, maybe during chore time.
As the oldest, Emily was expected to oversee her sisters, but surely she and Mary could sneak a minute or two to talk. She had three more sisters, after all.
Rose was perhaps the most demure and motherlike one of them all, even though at eighteen Mary was two years older. At twelve years old and the baby, Bea hadn't quite figured out where she fit into the family. Not as gingery as middle child Susannah nor as retiring as Rose and Mary. She was more like Emily than any of the others.
Excitement filled Emily as she thought of news from Luke. It had been months since he'd left, nearly four to be exact, but this was the first she had heard from him.
He had promised to call, but she knew how difficult that would be. It wasn't like he could call the shanty out in front of their house. Her father was as sure to get that message as any one of the Ebersol family. Nor was Luke big on writing letters. He was more into action, living, breathing, having fun.
But he had called. Emily ducked her head and smiled down at her plate lest her father see the joy she could not contain. Luke had called. He had gotten a message to Jonah Miller. He hadn't forgotten about her after all.
CHAPTER 2
After supper, it was Mary's turn to help with the dishes and their mother's cheese making, while Emily and their other sisters headed out to the barn to help their father.
The goats they used for their mother's business had been milked at four-thirty as was their usual custom, but now the horses had to be fed, the stalls mucked out, the few cows they kept for personal use needed to be milked.
Yet all Emily could think about was Luke.
"You are very quiet tonight, dochder." Her father didn't look up from his milking, but Emily was the only one around.
Susannah and Rose had gone to see to the stables, while Bea had stayed in with Mary to help their mother. Dat was talking to her.
"Oh, jah?" She tried her best to sound offhanded and casual, like she wasn't exploding inside from the gut news about Luke.
"Not so much at supper though." Again he didn't look at her, just kept his head down close to Sadie's belly.
His tone made Emily's heart stop in her throat. She knew she wasn't going to like what he had to say next. The fact was further confirmed as he grabbed the milk pail and stood. He handed it to Emily and slapped the cow on the rump to send her back to the pasture. Then he replaced his brimless "milking" hat with his regular one and leveled his serious blue gaze to hers. "It does not look good for the bishop's daughter to be pining after someone who has left our faith."
She opened her mouth to protest, but her vatter continued. "Luke Lambright has brought shame onto his family. Onto his community. It's time to move forward."
"But he'll return." Even as she said the words, she doubted them. She wanted to believe them. After all, so many who left the Amish quickly came back. It was just a matter of time, was all. Soon Luke would tire of the competition in the Englisch world, the strange customs, and unfamiliar faces. When that happened he would come running back, and she would be there waiting for him.
Her father's mouth twisted into a frown above his dark beard. "You don't know that he will."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Courting Emily by Amy Lillard. Copyright © 2015 Amy Lillard. Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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