Courting Emily (A Wells Landing Book 2)

“Why did you stop teaching?” Elam asked.

“My father said he needed my help with the market booth. But I think he believes that if I keep teaching, then I’ll never get married.”

“He seems pretty determined to find you a husband.”

“
Jah
.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Does it matter?”

He was quiet for so long Emily wasn’t sure he’d even answer. She looked up and met his steady gaze. “
Jah
,” he finally said. “It does matter. Everyone should have love.”

“If you’re such a romantic, then why haven’t you gotten married?”

“I’ve got my hands full around here. I just never found the time to court anyone.”

Surely there had been a time during his
rumspringa
when he’d had the time to court a special girl. Back then his father had been fine and whole, but Emily wasn’t about to ask. Something in Elam’s tone gave her pause, stilled her words on her lips. Something in his eyes made her stop, though she wasn’t sure what it was . . .

 

 

 

CAROLINE’S SECRET

 

COURTING EMILY

 

 

 

C
OURTING
E
MILY

A
MY
L
ILLARD

ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

 

I have so many people I need to thank for helping me with this book. So many that I’m sure to forget to add someone. Please forgive me if I do.

My thanks go out to Stacey Barbalace, for always reading even when you’ve already read it time and time again. To Amy Clipston and family, for continually answering my questions about stock car racing. They are the true champions and any mistakes are mine.

I owe a special gratitude to my editor John Scognamiglio, for loving this story (almost) as much as I do. To Team Kensington, thanks for making my books look so fabulous. And many thanks to the editorial staff for making this country girl look like a pro. That is not an easy feat! I appreciate all that you do.

And of course to my family, for suffering through first writes and rewrites, edits, and all the late nights when the deadline looms. My “boys” are the best.

“Come with me.” Luke Lambright took her hands in his, warm and calloused. Emily’s skin tingled where he touched her. Oh, how she wanted to tell him yes.

Bright sunlight spilled all around them. How could she tell him
nay?
She had loved him as long as she could remember. She loved everything about him, from his dancing blue eyes to his unruly hair that was as dark as a raven’s wing. He was the handsomest boy she had ever seen. Since they were no more than ten or twelve, they had talked about getting married, the children they would have, their house, their farm.

But now he was leaving. In broad daylight. Boldly walking away from the Plain life they had always known. Walking away from their shared dreams of a simple life in Wells Landing.

Luke wanted to experience the
Englisch
world, go to see movies, dance, and drive a race car for money. Even as much as she loved him she couldn’t understand what spurred his dreams in such a different direction.

“Luke, I—” She stopped short of giving him an answer. Her heart wanted to tell him one thing, but every other part of her knew she had to stay. Tears sprang into her eyes. She blinked them back. “I—”

As if he knew she was about to tell him no, he pulled her into the circle of his arms. He held her close. Pressed against his warmth, she felt like she was home. His heart pounded under her ear, his breathing steady and true.

“How can I leave?” She managed to keep her voice from cracking, the building sob from escaping.

“How can I stay?”

She pulled away to look into his blue eyes. Normally they sparkled with a mischief to rival any
Englisch
troublemaker, but today they were cloudy with longing and hurt.

“You can’t ask me to choose, Emily. I can’t.”

“I know,” she whispered. “Nor can I.”

Leaving with Luke, leaving Wells Landing would mean saying good-bye to her family, her
mudder
and
vatter
and all of her
shveshtah.
And because she had already joined the church, a
meidung
for sure. A shunning.

“
Ich liebe dich,
” he said, cupping her face in his hands and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, too.”

How could she leave? How could she ask him to stay? Why, oh why, did love have to hurt so bad?

He trailed his fingers down the snowy white linen of her prayer
kapp,
tracing an errant tear that had somehow managed to escape.

“I’ll call you, you know.”

She nodded.

“And I’ll come back for visits. I’m not a member of the church. They won’t shun me.”

She tried to smile at his hopeful words. But would her father let her visit with the wayward son of the community? She knew he wouldn’t.
Dat
would barely let her see Luke a’tall now as it was. They had been sneaking around so much, they didn’t even ask for courting visits any longer. And once he left the community—

“Are you afraid I’m going to forget you?”

Emily swallowed hard and gave a small nod. It was her worst fear of all: he would forget her and find some
Englisch
girl who understood things like race car driving.

“I could never forget you, Em. You’re my best girl.”

She closed her eyes as he traced the outline of her brow, the curve of her jaw.
Lord, please protect him; let him see the error of his ways. Let him come back to me.

A car horn honked. Emily started at the noise, her nerves and emotions raw from the pain.

“I’ve got to go.” He gave her a small kiss, just a brief touch of his lips against hers, and then he was gone.

Emily watched, tears running unheeded down her face as he hoisted his suitcase and placed it in the trunk of the car. He still wore his Amish clothes, though his shirt was untucked and his hat had been shucked long ago. Already he looked different. Already he was apart from her.

He looked back at her once as the
Englisch
driver revved the engine. Luke smiled and waved, then opened the door and disappeared inside.

She pressed the back of one hand to her mouth to stifle her sobs as the blue car pulled away taking with it the only boy she had ever loved.

How was she ever going to live the rest of her days and be happy without Luke?

“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 wedding-day 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?”