It amused her the way he talked about “fixing” his heart, like it was getting a new wheel for a buggy. Or replacing a part in Mamma's gas oven.
No doubt, correcting a heart defect took much more expertise and prayer than repairing something man-made. Besides, material things could always be replaced if the “fixing” didn't work. Little Amos couldn't.
He was a human being and one who was very dear to her heart. She pressed her lips together thoughtfully and considered the coming steps to take to get to Minnesota and have the surgery. The corners of her lips dropped into a frown.
Numerous phone calls were required. Thanks goodness, her family and the Troyers shared an outside phone. There would be a number of pre-op appointments, as well as hotel reservations. They would need to hire a driver to get them to the Mayo Clinic.
Jonathan's low voice pulled Emma from her thoughts. “Hey. That's not a frown, is it?”
He looked at Emma for a response.
Automatically, she forced a smile. Why was she doubting the surgery? She had fought tooth and nail to get it. And it was the only hope for a normal life for the precious kid beside her.
“Of course not!” Ashamed of allowing herself to focus on worry when joy was all she should feel, she leaned forward and faced the driver. “God has blessed us in every way. Despite what we went through to raise the money, we did it!”
She closed her eyes a moment and pushed out a sigh of relief. “How could I have anything but positive thoughts?”
She stuck out her fingers one at a time and ticked off obvious reasons. “We've got the funds. The appointment is scheduled. The doctor is optimistic of the outcome. The whole state of Illinois knows about Amos and his surgery and is praying for him.”
Jonathan chuckled. “You've got that right.”
Emma smiled, but her thoughts didn't linger on Amos and his procedure. They were on his older brother. She appreciated his honesty. She was happy that he trusted her enough to confide in her. And to her dismay . . . she liked him.
* * *
Jonathan said good-bye to Emma and waved as she walked in to the side entrance of her home. As he stepped back into the buggy, the sweet, pleasant aroma of homemade butter filled his nostrils.
It was common knowledge that Emma's mother made the best around. The bright sun slipped behind a haven of fluffy clouds. He blinked to adjust to the difference in light. By the looks of it, they were finished seeing the sun for the rest of the day.
Inside of the black buggy, he reached over to pull the covering his mother had knit over Amos's legs. Even with the gas heat, he made sure to keep the sickly boy warm at all times. It was exciting to imagine that soon, Amos wouldn't be so fragile.
As the two made their way home, Jonathan's mind drifted to Emma and the huge role she had played in the auction. Because of her big heart, he couldn't deny that he was starting to feel a bond with her. Of course, Amos was the glue between them. Yet, even without Amos in the picture, he liked her.
And Amos? Jonathan pressed his lips together as he came to a decision. It was time to have a talk with his sibling. He didn't feel like it today. But it had to be tomorrow.
C
HAPTER
6
A
s the Troyer home grew closer, Jonathan glanced at Amos's solemn expression and frowned. “What's wrong?”
A lengthy silence ensued while Amos lowered his gaze to the floor. He did this when he was embarrassed or sad about something. Jon's instincts told him the latter was the case this time.
Jon pushed out a decisive sigh and laid a gentle hand on the boy's wrist. “You wanna talk about it?”
While Jon awaited a response, he tightened the reins to head up their drive. Loose rocks made for a bumpy ride to where the buggy and horse were kept. Gravel crunched under the wheels.
But he barely heard it as he focused on Amos. Jonathan's heart pumped to an unsteady, frightened beat as he waited for the boy to open up. Jonathan had learned not to push too hard. When the kid was ready to talk, Jonathan would patiently listen.
But right now, Amos said nothing. Jonathan swallowed an emotional knot. He forced himself to stay calm, but it was difficult. He'd made a commitment to God to do his best for his sibling.
This promise had to do with the tremendous guilt Jonathan had over Amos losing his role model. Jonathan's dad had been everything that Amos aspired to be. And Jonathan, too. Jonathan would never forget the moment he'd been forced to explain to the young child that his favorite person in the world had passed away.
The devastated expression on Amos's face still broke Jonathan's heart. To his dismay, salty dampness stung his pupils. He blinked to rid himself of the uncomfortable sensation. But to his chagrin, a lone tear slid down his cheek. With a quick, frustrated motion, he wiped it away and regarded Amos to make sure he hadn't seen.
Jonathan never forgot that his role in life was to compensate for the huge loss of their larger-than-life father. It was nothing less than his dad would have expected, and it was the Lord's purpose for Jonathan.
Jonathan knew it with every God-given breath he took. But was he living up to those high expectations? Lifting an undecided brow, he drew in an uncertain breath.
Trying not to show too much emotion, Jonathan wrapped a gentle, reassuring arm around Amos's fragile, narrow shoulders. “Amos, I know I'm not Dad. But I'm here for you. And you've got to tell me what's naggin' you so I can help.”
Amos crossed one leg over another and lowered his gaze to his shoes. Jonathan was quick to note moisture glistening on the boy's long, thick lashes.
Finally Amos lifted his chin and darted a sideways glance at Jonathan. “I miss Emmie.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I wish she lived with us.”
* * *
The following afternoon, Emma left the Troyer home early to help Mamma make extra batches of cheese for the holiday. She chose to walk home, since the temperature had warmed several degrees.
A few minutes after her departure, though, she stopped and pushed out a sigh. She'd left her small hand mixer in the kitchen. She needed it this evening to make a dish for a family in town with a newborn. Without hesitation, quick steps took her back to the Troyer home, where she entered, as usual, through the back porch.
The moment she turned the brass knob on the door to the kitchen, she glimpsed Amos on Jonathan's lap. The expressions on their faces told her they were having a serious conversation.
Her hand froze on the knob. The last thing Emma wanted to do was to interrupt. Whatever Jonathan wanted to tell Amos must be important.
Pulling in an uncertain sigh, Emma definitely didn't intend to eavesdrop, but there was nowhere to go. She tried to close her ears. She didn't want to be guilty of listening in on a private discussion. At the same time, she couldn't go home without her hand mixer. But what could she do?
She considered her options. There were two choices. To go in and interrupt something important or to hang tight. She decided on the latter. Besides, how long could the talk last?
Jonathan's deep, low voice was calm and steady. “We've scheduled your appointment for after Christmas. The doctor wants us to follow his complete instructions. You're so diligent, Amos, and this is important.”
“Don't worry, Johnnie. I'll do everything right so the operation will work.”
There was a lengthy pause. Emma pressed her lips together thoughtfully as she listened to Jonathan's convincing tone. “It willâI have no doubt. But following the doc's instructions will give you the best results. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, little brother.”
“I've been asking in my prayers for Emmie to come with us. Can she come, Johnnie?
Please?
”
Emma grinned at how the last word was emphasized and drawn out for best effect. Amos was nearly a perfect child. Obedient. Polite. Studious. Thoughtful. But because of his special condition, he was used to having his way.
And despite Jonathan's gruff attitude, Emma had taken note that when it came to his little brother, Jonathan sweetened. She gave an amused roll of her eyes.
For whatever reason, big, tough Jonathan was extra-sensitive to the boy's wants. It was obvious that Jonathan would make Amos happy any way he could. But this time, she was sure he wouldn't give in. Taking her would add more expense. And it wouldn't be proper, either.
Amos's pitch changed to a matter-of-fact tone. “I think we should take Emmie. If we leave her here, I'll really miss her. Besides, who will I read to in Minnesota? Mommy might not be able to go. And who will bake the cookies?”
Another long silence ensued. Emma stood perfectly still. Her palm never left the knob. Her shoulders tensed, and her heart picked up speed to an uncertain beat while she wondered what Jonathan's response would be.
To her surprise, none came. But Amos persisted. “Johnnie, don't you like Emmie?”
The question seemed to take Jonathan off guard. Emma could tell by the surprised edge of his response. “Of course, Amos. Why would you think I don't?”
“I dunno. Maybe 'cause you didn't want the auction to happen.” Amos lifted the pitch of his small voice. “Once, I heard you tell her to stop it. I think you hurt her feelings. Johnnie, don't you want my heart to get fixed?”
Emma stepped as far away as she could from the entrance. She definitely didn't want to infringe on such a private conversation. It was wrong. But it was too cold to stand outside for long. And there was no way Emma could shut out the talk.
Even from some several yardsticks away, Emma was quick to catch the older Troyer's deep intake of breath. Little Amos wasn't shy. And she was certain Jonathan would do anything he could to put Amos's creative mind at ease. The love for his small, sickly brother was strong. That she was sure of.
In the meantime, the speed of Emma's heart ticked to a crazy beat. She hoped that Jonathan would take his time and make Amos understand whatever it was that he wanted to explain. At the same time, Emma was becoming quite uncomfortable in her small space. She was sure it was the most awkward position she'd ever been in. Despite the cold temperature, she wanted to fan her face. Taking a deep breath, she ordered the fast pace of her pulse to slow.
“Amos . . .” Jon finally proceeded. “I never want you to be unsure of anything. To doubt. Never be afraid to ask me anything you want. You understand?”
Emma didn't hear a reply.
Several heartbeats later, Amos spoke. “Is this about Emmie?”
Jon cleared his throat. “It's about our daddy.”
The pitch of Amos's voice lowered to a melancholy tone that was barely more than a hush. “I miss him, Johnnie.”
Emma squeezed her lids closed in pain.
“Me, too. But when he was alive, he taught me all the time.”
“Oh, I get it. Like Emmie teaches me.”
“This . . . was a little bit different. It wasn't really learning from books. I guess you could say that he taught me his beliefs. Values he'd inherited from his own father. He tried to instill in me all that he thought I should know.”
Jonathan hesitated. When he started again, his serious tone was edged with a newfound emotion. “Daddy was my best friend, Amos. My role model. And I miss him every day.”
“Me, too.”
A long pause ensued while Jonathan blew his nose. Emma lowered her lids in sympathy. Uncomfortable moisture formed in her eyes. Automatically, she blinked to clear her foggy vision. A knot tightened in her stomach. Her chest ached. The gray walls of the small space in which she stood seemed to close in.
It took a few moments to digest what she'd just heard. She'd never been this privy to the older Troyer brother's emotional side. But she'd already learned that there was much more to Jonathan than met the eye. And she might be the only person who knew it. The newfound knowledge pulled at her heart.
“And what I learned from him, well, it wasn't stuff you get from books. It was about how to live my life.”
He paused.
“Daddy taught me to be honest. To finish the job. To have a good work ethic.”
“What?”
“In other words, a man has to put out his best every day. You hang in there and do what needs to be done, kid, even if you're sick or tired. You take care of your family. To him, that came first.”
There was a slight hesitation before he continued. “And he instilled in me to do things on my own. You know,” he added, “that being a man means supporting your family. To buy only what you can afford.”
“What if there's not enough money?”
“Then you don't buy it.”
There was a slight pause. “Ya see, Amos, I strive to be like Dad.”
“Me, too.”
“But I'm glad I accepted help in this case. Otherwise, we wouldn't be getting your heart fixed.”
“Daddy would want me to play outsideâI know it, Johnnie.”
“There's no doubt in my mind that he would.”
Emma closed her lids.
It's wrong to listen in on this. But what choice do I have? Please, God. Close my ears.
“It took me a while to admit that sometimes we've got to accept help. That in the end, swallowing my pride was worth you having this procedure that will change the rest of your life. But while the auction was taking place, I remembered something Dad told me out in the barn.”
“What was it?”
Jonathan cleared his throat. “We were talking about our family. Of a man's huge responsibility to put their needs before his. I realized that taking care of you, little guy, is what that means. And if that requires using donations from all over the state of Illinois, so be it.”
“I understand. One day, when I have a bunch of kids, I'll try to be as good as you, Johnnie. But I'll never be as good as Daddy.”
The last statement prompted a laugh out of Jonathan. Emma held her hand over her mouth to stop a giggle that struggled to come out.
Amos was incredibly honest and open. He didn't consider holding anything in. Maybe it was good; perhaps it wasn't! At any rate, Emma wasn't happy she had caught the private conversation intended for only little Amos.
On the surface, Jonathan appeared tough. But that was a façade. Because inside . . . Emma drew her hands over her chest and took in a deep breath of understanding. He was a teddy bear.
Emma straightened when she heard what she guessed was Amos jumping off of Jonathan's lap.
“Let's go have one of Emmie's cookies.”
“
Jah!
”
When she heard both pairs of shoes leave the room, she opened the door and went in. Jonathan had spoken heart-to-heart with Amos. But somehow Emma felt that the talk had also been meant for her.