Seek Me With All Your Heart (15 page)

“I’m not that cold.” She wadded the blanket up and pushed it toward him.

David grunted. “That’s
dumm
. And I ain’t the kind of man to warm myself under that blanket while you sit there with your teeth chattering. There ain’t nothing to be scared of.”

Emily held her breath and closed her eyes for a moment as thoughts of James raced through her mind.
David isn’t James
. But the thought of being that close to David made her more uncomfortable than she knew how to explain. “I’m not scared,” she squeaked out.

“You keep the blanket.” He pushed it back toward her.

“I don’t need it.”

“Fine.” David threw the blanket in the backseat on top of the bags of groceries, and they didn’t say anything to each other the rest of the trip. Emily tried to control her chattering teeth and thought about how stubborn he was being.
Or is it me?

It was completely dark by the time they pul ed into Martha’s driveway. They each grabbed two bags and eased their way up the porch steps. The door swung open before they had a chance to knock.

“Did you get everything on my list?” Martha stepped aside so David and Emily could enter with the bags.

“
Ya
. I think so.” Emily waited for Martha to give them instructions.

“Kitchen is that way. You can just put the bags on the table.” Martha pointed to her right, then fol owed behind them.

Emily walked into the spacious kitchen with enough counter space to line up a hundred shoofly pies for a Sunday gathering. Unlike the den area where Martha must spend most of her time, the kitchen was spotless. Emily scanned the countertops. No fancy gadgets like the
Englisch
usual y had. No toaster, electric can opener, or microwave. Not even a coffee pot.

“I’l go get the rest of the bags.” David put his two bags on the table and quickly left the room.

“Emily Detweiler. What is this?” Martha held up a bag of fresh broccoli, then set it on the table and pul ed out a bag of apples. She raised her dark brows. “I don’t recal any of this on my list. Did you confuse these apples with my frozen apple turnovers?” She grunted as she picked up the broccoli again. “And I can’t imagine what you confused this with?”

“We got everything on your list, Martha. We just—just thought you might enjoy some other foods too.” Emily stood perfectly stil as Martha began to pul the offerings out of the bags.

“Flour? What do I need flour for?”

Emily stepped forward and forced a smile. “For baking. You know, to make bread. Or cookies.” Martha scowled as Emily hesitantly kept going. “And you can fry chicken using flour. Look, we got you some chicken.” She pul ed out a package of chicken breasts.

“And the hundred dol ars I gave you for groceries bought al this?” Martha let out a heavy sigh and shook her head before Emily would have been forced to lie. “Al right, Emily. The kitchen is al yours.”

“What?” Emily swal owed hard.

David walked in with four more bags and placed them on the counter. “Three more left.”

After he was gone, Martha continued the inspection. “Final y, here we go.” She pul ed out a single serving of frozen lasagna, a bag of French fries, a box of corndogs, a box of apple turnovers, and the last item in the bag was a box of frozen fish sticks. “These are the things on my list.” She shook her head. “I had no idea you would get al these other things.” She put her hands on her hips. “Whatever you decide to cook is fine with me.”

And for the first time, Martha smiled.

Emily stood with her mouth hanging open. “I—you—you want me to cook for you?”

Martha’s smiled faded as her brows narrowed. “Isn’t that what you intended by buying al this food? I don’t
cook
, Emily. Never have. Wouldn’t know the first thing about it.”

“Here’s the rest.” David plopped down the last three bags on the floor near the kitchen table. “I’l go start on the firewood.”

“Good. Emily is going to cook us supper. Then we wil al sit down to eat together.” Martha’s tone made Emily hesitant to argue, but this was not part of the agreement.

“Martha, I’l be glad to cook for you on another night, but tonight I—”

“Ohhh!” Martha bent at the waist as she cried out. Then she cried out again.

Emily ran to her side and put a hand on her arm. “What is it, Martha? What’s wrong?” She’d never heard anyone moan like that before. “What can I do?”

David wasn’t out of the room yet, and he walked to Martha, then pul ed a chair away from the table. “Sit down, Martha.”

“Thank you, David. Thank you both.” She eased onto the chair. “It’s just my back. It goes out like this from time to time.” As she shook her head, her face scrunched together, which seemed to make al her wrinkles connect. “You kids go on now. I’m sure I can manage. I’l just heat up my frozen lasagna.” She glanced up at David and batted long black lashes. “Like I always do.”

“I reckon it’s gonna take me awhile to chop up some firewood. I’m sure Emily can make us al some supper, if that’s what you want.”

Emily glared at David, who only shrugged innocently.

“I don’t want to trouble anyone.” Martha moaned again, and Emily started thinking about what she would prepare.

An hour later Emily placed a meatloaf, corn on the cob, and some creamed celery on the table as David stacked firewood outside Martha’s back door.

Martha’s back didn’t seem to be bothering her as much. She was placing gold-rimmed china plates on three white cloth placemats she’d set out.

Fanciest plates Emily had ever seen, and it seemed they should be saved for special occasions. When Emily mentioned that, Martha said this was a special occasion, and Emily was touched enough to drop the subject.

“I’m sorry we don’t have any homemade bread, and I didn’t buy any at the store.” Emily stood in the kitchen holding a jar of rhubarb jam she’d brought from home before realizing there was no bread. “Guess we won’t be needing this.”

“Nonsense.” Martha took the jar from Emily and placed it on the table. “This stuff is good on anything.”

David walked into the kitchen and pul ed off his black gloves. “It smel s denly seemed intimate to be cooking like this, then al of them sitting down for a meal together. She barely knew Martha or David.
gut
in here.” He smiled at Emily, and it sud

“The girl can cook, that’s for sure.” Martha put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin toward Emily. “Bet you’l make a good wife someday.”

Emily felt her cheeks heat, and she didn’t dare look at David. Martha didn’t know how untrue her comment was, but Emily tried to focus on her accomplishments in Martha’s kitchen on such short notice. “Everything is ready.” She put a glass of milk in front of each placemat.

Martha sat down at the head of the table, then shook her head. “I don’t drink milk, Emily.”

David sat down to Martha’s right as Emily slid into a chair on Martha’s left. “Why?”

“Because it’s the foulest tasting thing I’ve ever put in my mouth, that’s why.” She sat tal er as she turned toward Emily, frowning.

Emily got up and took the glass of milk from in front of Martha. “What would you like?”
How did I ever get talked into this?
She put the glass of milk on the counter, then turned and waited. But before Martha could answer, Emily asked, “Do you have any chocolate syrup, like you put on ice cream?” Levi didn’t like the taste of milk either, and Emily’s mother had been adding a squirt of chocolate syrup to it for as long as Emily could remember.

“No, Emily. I’m not adding chocolate syrup to my milk. I don’t like milk, with or without chocolate in it.” Martha sighed. “There’s a cola in the fridge I can drink.”

Emily picked up the milk and put it back in front of Martha. “Cola is bad for you. Milk makes you have strong bones.” Emily folded her arms across her chest and pressed her lips together.

“I—I don’t
.
.
.” Martha sighed. “Fine, Emily. I wil drink the milk.”

Emily sat back down.

“Even though I can’t stand it.” Martha reached for the spoon Emily had put in the creamed celery. “I love the way your people make celery.”

“My
people
also pray before a meal.” Emily folded her hands in front of her on the table, then bowed her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Martha ease the spoon back down, then bow her head. After she was done silently thanking the Lord for the food before them, she lifted her head to see Martha’s head stil firmly down, her eyes squeezed shut.

Emily waited. And waited. She looked across the table at David, who shrugged lightly. “Martha?”

Martha’s eyes bolted open. “What?”

“Are you done praying?” Emily unfolded the cloth napkin and put it in her lap.

“Done? I was waiting on you to get started.”

“We pray silently before and after a meal.” Emily fought a grin. “I thought you knew that.”

Martha let out a heavy sigh. “No, Emily, I didn’t know that. For the sake of us who don’t have a direct connection to God, maybe you could say a little something out loud instead of making me guess.”

Emily looked across the table at David and noticed he had covered his mouth with his hand, though Emily could see him stifling a grin. She took a deep breath as she lowered her head and thought about her lack of connection with God for the past three months. Then she recited a generic prayer that she’d been silently saying before meals for months. “Dear Lord, bless this food before us, bless the days ahead of us, and bless al who cross in front of us or behind us, as we al make our way to You.
Aamen
.”

She knew she was just going through the motions. But she also knew that she hadn’t real y sought out true communion with God since her attack. She loved God, but her trust in His wil had left her the day James forced himself on her.

Seek Me with all your heart, Emily . .
.

Emily heard Martha and David both say Amen, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw them start to load their plates, but she sat quiet and stil for a moment. She wondered if it was the inner voice that she hadn’t heard in such a long time, but she was unsure how to seek out what she’d come to doubt.

For the first time in her life, Emily found her faith tested, and she couldn’t seem to find her way back to the peacefulness that she’d evidently taken for granted.

“I need to talk to you both about something.” Martha scooped another spoonful of creamed celery onto her plate. Emily and David waited for Martha to take a bite, then swal ow, before she went on. “I’m not a wel woman, as you can see by my back trouble.” She reached around with one hand and rubbed the middle of her back. “I could use some help around here, and I’l gladly pay both of you to come help me clean this place up, and”—she cut her eyes in Emily’s direction— “maybe even prepare a couple of meals like this every week.”

Emily halted her fork, fil ed with meatloaf, halfway to her mouth. “Martha, I’m sure there are lots of folks that you could pay to help you, but I have a job at the country store.”

David didn’t say anything, but instead pushed some food around on his plate.

Martha shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I was thinking along the lines of about fifty dol ars per day, just a couple of hours each evening to help me clean, cook a meal, and
.
.
.” She grinned at David. “I got al kinds of work you can do. Home repair type stuff.” She paused with a sigh. “But if you aren’t interested, then
.
.
.”

“I’m interested.” David put his fork down and repeated himself. “I’m interested.”

Emily thought about al the things she could do with that much money, but spending that much time with Martha— and David—was out of the question.

Plus, she already had a job, and she was expected to help with chores at home and with supper at night. “I’m sorry I can’t accept your kind offer.”

“Me too.” Martha put her fork down, then grimaced as she reached around and grabbed her back. “It’s just so hard for me to take care of this place.”

Emily lowered her head. “I’m so sorry. I wil ask others I know if they might be interested.”

Martha shook her head as she eased out of her chair. “No. Only you.” She turned to David. “And you. I’m not having any strangers in my house. No ma’am. No strangers. No cranky people underfoot.”

Emily glanced across the table at David and tried not to grin.

“Wel , uh, I can help my dad fix up the house during the day, then come do any handyman chores here and chop wood in the evenings.” David wrapped his mouth around a cob of corn and took a hearty bite.

Martha straightened up, moaning. She frowned as she looked down on David who had a mouthful. “You cook?”

David swal owed. “No, but—”

“Then no. It’s a package deal. The both of ya. Talk about it while I go to the bathroom.”

Emily watched Martha shuffling to the bathroom, walking slowly as she held the smal of her back with one hand.

“I am not coming over here several times a week. I can’t, David.” She shook her head. “Nor do I want to.”

“What about three times a week? That’s a hundred and fifty dol ars each per week, Emily, on top of whatever you might make at the dry goods store.”

David put the corn down, then wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Couldn’t you use that money for something?”

Emily thought again about the gift she wanted to buy, but shook her head. “I can’t. I have to help
Mamm
make supper at night.”

David shifted his weight in the chair. “Wel , I don’t know why she won’t let me work for her without you.” He tipped his head to one side. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m sorry if I’m holding you back, David, but I can’t do it.” Emily laid her napkin across her half-eaten plate of food. “Sorry.”

“What about twice a week? I can pick you up and take you home. You wouldn’t have to worry about using one of the family buggies or traveling in the dark. I can’t do it forever, just until it’s time to ready the fields for planting. Think your folks would agree to that?”

“Even if they did, I don’t.” Emily glared across the table at David, then looked toward the den when she heard footsteps coming across the wooden floors—floors badly in need of waxing.