Emma didn’t change her expression, but the dancing lights of her eyes immediately went out. She inclined her head stiffly. “Then I’m very grateful to Ben.”
Adam wasn’t finished yet. Why, oh why wouldn’t he shut up and go away? “Truth be told, I’ve wanted to drive you home from a gathering for a long while. Ben gave me the push I needed.”
Neither Emma nor Ben said anything in reply.
After standing in awkward and painful silence for what seemed like three days, Adam cleared his throat and slid his hat onto his head. “I guess I should finish my deliveries. My mamm will contact your mamm about the haystack supper. I appreciate your help.”
Adam marched away with all the confidence of a runner who had just won a big race.
Ben didn’t move a muscle until Adam disappeared from sight. Then he glanced at Emma. She stood with her face toward the lane and her hands firmly gripping her crutches. Her eyes held no expression whatsoever. How could Adam have been so stupid? How could Ben have been so stupid?
“Emma, I didn’t mean for it . . . That isn’t the way it was supposed to happen.”
She pressed her lips into a rigid line.
“I’m sorry if that embarrassed you.” He tried to smile. “It definitely embarrassed me.”
Balancing on one crutch, she pulled a fistful of fabric from her pocket. Her hand trembled so badly, she looked as if she were shivering with cold. In June. “No need to apologize, Ben. I got the message.”
“What message? There wasn’t any message.”
“I must be making a horrible pest of myself if you have to persuade young men to ask me out.”
Ben’s mouth went dry. “That’s not true. I thought you might enjoy—”
“You talked to John and Freeman too, didn’t you?”
With every miserable breath he took, he wanted to pretend she hadn’t asked that question. “Okay, I did, but only to—”
She couldn’t move far, but she swiveled a quarter-turn away from him. “And Lamar Zook and Wallace Sensenig?”
Those names struck him momentarily mute. Lamar and Wallace had asked her on dates too?
“Emma, look at me.”
She completely ignored his request. Turning even farther away from him, she said, “You don’t need to help me with the pumpkins.”
“Emma.”
“I don’t want your help with the pumpkins anymore. You’ve got plenty to do on the farm without coddling poor, helpless Emma Nelson.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Leave the fabric on the ground next to my trowel. I’m going to the bathroom.”
Ben had never seen anyone move so quickly on crutches, as if her life depended on her speed. Ben didn’t stop her. He’d made a horrible mess of things already. No use chasing her if it meant that she would trip over her own foot in an effort to escape.
The hoe lay near the pumpkin mound with its head buried in the dirt. He yanked it out and then pounded it furiously against the ground over and over again.
Why, God? Why? You made the heavens and the earth. Why can’t you make me strong and able? All I want is to serve you and love Emma. Is that too much to ask?
He persistently drove the hoe into the ground until the dirt looked like cottage cheese and his arms were so stiff he couldn’t move them.
The Bible said that Jacob wrestled with God, and God gave him a blessing. To Ben, every day felt like a wrestle with God and a wrestle with his own deteriorating body, but no blessings were forthcoming. He ached to be faithful instead of full of doubt and dark thoughts, but sometimes he felt he was losing the battle within himself.
And if this was his cross to bear, why did Emma have to suffer too?
He sank to the dirt and buried his face in his hands. “Please, Heavenly Father,” he whispered. “Please give me strength for this fight. Help me to be still and know that you are God.”
It was the only prayer he uttered anymore.
Whenever he asked for more, God always told him “no.”
Chapter 9
Emma liked the chicken coop. Except for the smell. And the chicken droppings. And the inconvenient chickens that tried to peck at her toes and fingers.
At least it was secluded. And no one, not even Mahlon, would think to look for her here. The perfect place for someone who wanted to be left alone.
Someone knocked on the door of the coop.
Bother!
Last week Mahlon had found her in the hayloft and the week before that in the small hut Andy had built in the lower branches of their cherry tree. She was quickly running out of quality hiding places. Wasn’t there someplace a girl could go to cry in peace?
“Emma?” It was Lizzie. At least her brother’s scowl wouldn’t be the first thing she saw when she emerged from seclusion. “Can I come in?”
“Just a minute,” Emma squeaked. She quickly wiped her eyes and hobbled across the dirt floor on her crutches, being careful not to step in any surprises on her way out. Opening the door, she twitched her mouth into a smile and then wondered why she even bothered. Lizzie already knew she was upset. No need to pretend in front of her best friend, even if she was Ben’s sister.
“You don’t have to come out on my account,” Lizzie said. “I just came to see if you’re okay.”
Emma sniffed and swiped her sleeve across her cheeks for good measure. “I’ll come out. It really stinks in here.”
Lizzie sighed, pulled Emma into her arms, crutches and all, and gave her a tight hug. “I’m sorry, Em.”
Emma let a sob break free before she got control of herself. It was ridiculous to cry over this.
Lizzie released her. “You really do stink.”
They laughed through the tears. “I think I will reconsider using the chicken coop as my personal space,” Emma said. “I don’t want to scare my friends away.”
“Or your mamm. She’ll make you sleep outside.” Lizzie put her arm around Emma, in spite of her odor, and led her across the lawn to the house. “How is the ankle?”
“Better. Although I might have tweaked it running away from Ben today.”
Lizzie gave her a wan smile. “Let’s get you cleaned up before the neighbors start complaining.”
“How did you know I was out here?”
“Ben came over to our house today. He told me he made you cry. He feels horrible about it.”
Emma wanted to contradict Lizzie, but she couldn’t. Ben always felt bad about hurting other people’s feelings. That was surely one of the reasons he’d asked about a dozen boys to take her off his hands. He wanted someone to distract her so that his presence wouldn’t upset her anymore. It wouldn’t work, but Emma couldn’t blame him for trying.
The tears pooled in her eyes. “It’s my fault he’s so miserable. If he didn’t have to tiptoe around my feelings so often, he’d be much happier.”
“That’s not true. He loves you.”
“I’m going to tell Anna I can’t help with her pumpkins anymore. Or her beans. And the tomatoes were coming along so nicely.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Lizzie said as she walked up the stairs while Emma hopped. “Mahlon and I have a plan.”
“No plans, no schemes, and no getting me and Ben back together.”
Mamm stood in the kitchen with her hands in a bowl of hamburger. “Emma, where have you been? I need you to wash potatoes.” She wrinkled her nose. “You smell like something the cat dragged in.”
“Chicken,” Lizzie corrected, “Like something the chicken dragged in.”
“Why on earth would I allow a chicken in my house?” Mamm said. She turned and took a good look at Emma. “You’ve been crying again, haven’t you?”
Emma sniffed twice. “Yes, Mamm.”
When Mamm got cross, her eyes narrowed to slits. “I tell you, Emmy, if you waste one more day crying over spilt milk, you can go live with your aunt Ginny in Missouri. I’ll not have any more of this, do you hear?”
“I’m sorry, Mamm.”
“And where have you been doing your crying? In the pen with the hogs?”
Emma curled her lips sheepishly. “Chicken coop.”
“Well, go wash up. I’ll have Rose do the potatoes.”
Lizzie followed Emma down the hall. “Me and Mahlon have been talking.”
“Talking or fighting?” Emma teased.
Lizzie stepped in front of her and blocked the way to the bathroom. “Come out to the barn.”
“Mamm said to wash up.”
“It will only take a few minutes, and you won’t want to take a shower and
then
go to the barn. You’ll end up stinky again.”
Emma glanced behind her. “What are you up to?”
“Mahlon wants to discuss things while he milks cows.”
“I said, no schemes.”
Lizzie tugged on one of Emma’s kapp strings. “Come on, Emma. Just for a minute.”
Against her better judgment, Emma continued down the hall, through the washroom, and out the back door. Earlier today, she’d found that she could go quite rapidly on her crutches. She hobbled to the barn double-time. Whatever Mahlon and Lizzie had to say, Emma wanted to get it over with right quick. They weren’t going to convince her of anything.
Lizzie tagged behind her but caught up at the entrance to the barn. Mahlon sat on the milking stool next to Lavender, and Emma could hear the bright ping-ping of thin streams of milk hitting the pail. Her brother turned his head when Emma and Lizzie entered. “Where were you, Emma?”
Lizzie folded her arms. “I found her crying in the chicken coop.”
“The chicken coop? You should stick to the tree house. The chicken coop is a little punishing to the nose.”
“I wanted to be alone.” She glanced at Lizzie and turned up one corner of her mouth. “And I didn’t want anyone to know I was crying.”
“Not like we couldn’t have guessed,” Mahlon said. “Pull up a bucket or something.”
Lizzie found a stool for Emma and a bale of hay for herself. Mahlon finished milking Lavender, untied her tether rope, and led her outside to pasture.
Emma leaned her chin on her elbow. “Not that I don’t love watching Mahlon milk cows, but I really should take a shower before the flies start buzzing around my head.”
Lizzie smiled. “Just wait.”
Mahlon reappeared and pulled his milking stool next to Emma’s. “Now, Emma. I want you to know this is all Lizzie’s idea. If it were up to me, I’d cut Ben loose and let him wander back to Florida, but Lizzie kind of likes her brother around.”
“If you’re thinking of using me to get him to stay in Bonduel, you’re going to be very disappointed,” Emma said.
Lizzie leaned forward and pinned Emma with an exasperated glare. “Listen, Emma. Ben told me that he doesn’t deserve you. I think that’s why he broke up. He believes you’re too good for him.”
Emma glanced at Mahlon. He shrugged. She wouldn’t get any help from him. “That’s the silliest thing to ever come out of your mouth,” she said. “I don’t believe it for one minute. And neither does Mahlon.”
She nudged him when he didn’t immediately agree with her.
He shrugged again. “Don’t look at me. I don’t really care what your ex-boyfriend is thinking.”
It was Lizzie’s turn to nudge him. Only her nudge came out more like a smack on the shoulder. “You agreed with me not an hour ago.”
“That’s because you batted your eyes at me. I got confused.”
Lizzie’s frown disappeared. “Ben sees himself as a big, strong man.”
Emma felt worse. “He
is
a big, strong man.”
“But he’s always the one to fix things for people. He likes to take care of the less fortunate and downtrodden. He thinks he has to be everybody’s hero.”
Mahlon folded his arms. “Lizzie thinks Ben felt bad that he didn’t watch out for you the way he should have. Maybe he feels guilty about all those accidents and thinks he doesn’t deserve you.”
“Didn’t watch out for me? He always watched out for me. He helped me and a dozen other people put out that chicken coop fire.”
“But he wasn’t there to stop you from setting the fire in the first place,” Lizzie said.
“He pulled me out of the lake.”
“Maybe he wishes he never would have taken you there,” Mahlon said.
“He carried me a whole mile after that buggy accident.”
Lizzie nodded as if this proved her point. “He shouldn’t have let you drive our buggy.”
A seed of doubt grew in Emma’s mind. “So you think he blames himself for all my accidents?”
“And he thinks someone else will protect you better,” Lizzie said.
“Nae,” Emma said. “That’s not why he called off the wedding.”
Lizzie twirled a piece of hay in her fingers and stared intently at Emma. “It’s the only possible explanation. Ben is crazy in love with you.”
Emma held up her hand. “Don’t tell me that, Lizzie. I can’t let myself believe it.” Her hope couldn’t survive another crushing blow. She refused to give it wings.
Mahlon cleared his throat and studied Lizzie and then Emma, as if trying to decide which one of them to side with. “Lizzie thinks Ben should save you from an angry bull or a speeding train.”
Lizzie nodded enthusiastically. “If he does something heroic, then he’ll be convinced that he really is capable of taking care of you, and he’ll want you back.”
“You want me to step in front of a speeding train?”
“Nae,” Lizzie groaned, even though she looked like she might be open to the possibility. “We’d have to manufacture something that looks like an accident but really isn’t. We could lower you into that cave near Zooks’ farm and let Ben pull you out.”
“Too many spiders,” Emma said lightly, because they surely must have been joking.
Lizzie inclined her head in agreement. “You could get stuck in the tree house.”
“What if she sprawls out by the side of the road with some fake blood on her head and lets Ben find her?” Mahlon said. “Then she wouldn’t have to actually do something dangerous, and Ben would be none the wiser.”
Emma gaped at them. Mahlon’s expression held pure concentration. Lizzie couldn’t have looked more earnest. They weren’t teasing.
She grabbed her crutches and stood up. “I would never deceive Ben like that.”
“We’re brainstorming,” Lizzie protested. “We’re not set on one particular accident.”
“I won’t agree to tricking Ben like that,” Emma said. “Besides, have either of you considered what could go wrong while faking an accident? I have a talent for getting into my own accidents without any help from anybody else.”
Mahlon nodded thoughtfully. “You probably won’t be lucky enough to have an accident in Ben’s presence.”
Emma growled in irritation. “Mahlon, do you hear yourself?”
“But, Emma,” Lizzie said. “This is the best plan we have.”
“There is no need for a plan,” Emma said, wishing she could stomp her foot, but she only had one good foot with which to stomp. “Ben was quite close when that watering can fell on my head. He cleaned off the cut and took me to the emergency room for stitches, and after all that, he didn’t ask to get back together. It’s not going to happen.”
“You’re right,” said Mahlon. “It’s silly to plan an accident.”
Lizzie propped her hands on her hips. “Mahlon Nelson, don’t you dare back out on me now.”
Mahlon threw up his hands. “There are too many things that could go wrong.”
“And it wouldn’t make any difference,” Emma said through clenched teeth. Did her brother grasp what she was trying to hammer into that thick skull of his? She turned to Lizzie. “And shame on you for scheming to deceive your brother.”
Lizzie didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “We wouldn’t be deceiving him. We’d be helping him to the best wife he could ever hope for.”
“We could cause an accident without Emma knowing, then she wouldn’t feel deceitful about it.”
Emma swatted the hat off Mahlon’s head. “Don’t even joke about that. You’d end up killing me.”
Lizzie sighed. “She’s right, of course.”
Mahlon rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I know. I’d never put Emma in danger. I’m just throwing ideas out there.”
“Well, quit throwing out bad ideas,” Lizzie said.
“Well, maybe we should forget the whole thing, Lizzie Tizzy.”
Lizzie scolded Mahlon with her glare. “You said you’d help come up with a gute plan.”
Emma was ready to go back to the house and leave Mahlon and Lizzie to their argument. She wouldn’t take part in any plans, no matter how good they sounded.
Lizzie picked up Mahlon’s hat and handed it to him. That was probably the closest thing to a peace offering Mahlon would get. “What kind of girl catches your attention, Mahlon?” she asked. “Does something in particular turn your head?”
Mahlon tapped his hat back onto his head. “Does Ben know about all the boys who have taken an interest in Emma? Maybe we could make him jealous.”
Emma sank back to her stool and burst into tears. It would be impossible to make Ben jealous, and she wouldn’t even consider such an underhanded trick.
“Oh, dear,” Lizzie said as she slid off her hay bale, knelt on the ground, and sidled next to Emma. “Was it something Mahlon said?”
“Don’t blame this on me. I’ve already seen Emma cry enough to last two lifetimes.”
Emma cried until she started hiccupping. Lizzie pulled three tissues out of her pocket and handed them to her. They were soaked in seconds with her copious tears. “Adam Wengerd came to visit me this morning on Huckleberry Hill.”
“Did Ben see?” Lizzie said.
Emma nodded. “Adam told me that Ben had asked him to take me on a date.”
A few inches lower and Lizzie’s jaw could have scraped the ground. “Ben?”
“All those boys who’ve asked me out,” Emma said, “Ben told them to.”
Lizzie gasped as if she’d been slapped.
Mahlon furrowed his brow. “Not Wallace Sensenig. I’m the one who asked him.”
Stunned, Lizzie and Emma stared at him as if he had pumpkins growing out of his ears.
Emma felt as if she would disintegrate into a million pieces. The only boys who asked her on dates were the ones who felt obligated to Ben or Mahlon. That fact made her feel about as desirable as a bag of potatoes.