The Tempted Soul (6 page)

Carrie could recognize the guilt treatment when she saw it. Aleta Miller only had an eighth-grade education like the rest of them, but she had a college degree in guilt.

“And we appreciate it,” she said. “If you’d rather not pick apples, the paint for the sheds is in the barn. The brushes, too, and some drop cloths.”

“
Denki
.” Then he grinned, as though it was all water off a duck’s back. “I’ll manage with no company and nothing to eat.”

If she went in to fix him something, the girls would be here before she was finished—and he might cut into the cake before Emma could see her happy little message. “You haven’t eaten anything I’ve offered you so far. I didn’t think of it.”

“That seems to be my fate with women,” he said, dropping his smile and his gaze to fiddle with his horse’s reins as though he didn’t know whether to tie up or not.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Joshua. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. If you want something to eat, I have bread and jam and…and apples. Just don’t touch the cake. That’s for Emma.”

“And what is Emma doing for you that she deserves a cake?”

“It’s not what she can do for me, it’s what I can do for her.”

“A
gut
Amish woman, doing for her friends.” The needle of sarcasm was back under the smile. “I told Mamm you’d invited me last time, that you expected me to eat here.”

Could anyone be more aggravating? “I don’t have a company dinner planned. You’ll have to take—” She stopped.

It’s good he’s doing the outside work. That’s where he belongs.

“Take what?”

She was the one at fault here. She’d asked him to come and then forgotten about it. The least she could do was feed him for an afternoon’s work. “Take potluck. I can make a sausage-and-green-bean casserole. And we’ll have the rest of the cake. I won’t send it home with Emma if you’re staying.”

“I’ll look forward to that. I’ll just put my animal in the barn, then, and get started on those sheds. We’ll do apples tomorrow.”

He unhitched his horse and led it into the barn while Carrie went inside, her pleasure in her cake a little flattened now. It didn’t matter what it looked like with him here. Everything was open and honest, and every woman in the settlement had cooked for a cleaning frolic or a work party at some time or another. This was no different.

Emma and Amelia came together in the latter’s buggy, looking curiously at the extra buggy in the yard with its empty rails propped on the ground in front of it. Carrie said, “That’s Joshua Steiner’s. He’s painting the sheds today.”

As though he’d been waiting to be introduced, he came out of the barn with a can of paint, and waved a brush at them before rounding the corner. The two women followed Carrie into the house, the quilt rolled up like a carpet between them.

“Just leave it rolled up until you get your shawls off,” Carrie suggested. “I have a surprise for you in the kitchen.”

“Oh, look at this!” Emma clasped her hands to her chest in delight when she saw the cake, bending over it to take in every detail. “Did you do all this yourself?”

Carrie practically hugged herself. The light in Emma’s face was worth an early start this morning on all that icing. “Yes. It’s a family of
weaver
birds, you see?”

Amelia laughed, her eyes sparkling as she leaned over the cake. “Only you would think of something like this. Surely you don’t mean for us to eat it, do you?”

“I sure hope you will. Most of it, anyway. I told Joshua he could have some for dessert tonight.”

“Carrie,” Emma said suddenly, “I want to ask you something.”

Oh dear. She shouldn’t have brought Joshua’s name into the conversation. Maybe Emma had been talking to Mary Lapp, too. “What?”

“Don’t look so dismayed. Though you might after I—what I mean to say is, will you make my wedding cake? I want one just like this, with the birds and the babies and leaves and everything. Grant will love it.”

“You make far nicer cakes than the bakery in town,
Liewi
,” Amelia said. “The one you made for my wedding was so pretty I wished I hadn’t wasted the money on a store-bought one.”

“I’ll buy you all the ingredients,” Emma went on. “All you’d have to do is make it.”

“Never mind,” Carrie said, touched to the core. “It will be my wedding gift to you. I’ll make the one for the
Eck
, and then plain sheet cakes for cutting in the kitchen.”

“I’ll help you,” Amelia said. “You’ll be baking for days otherwise.”

“We’ll all be baking for days,” Emma said. “I’m trying to keep it small, but with inviting the whole
Gmee
and our family, two hundred seems like just a starting point.”

“Getting nervous?” Amelia nudged her.

Emma bumped her back. “Not about getting married, not after waiting all this time. Just about planning the whole thing, and making sure it all gets done in time.”

Amelia slid an arm around her shoulders. “That’s what we’re here for. There’s no substitute for experience, and of course, you’ve got Karen.”

“Thank goodness,” Emma said seriously over Carrie’s giggle. “I mean it. She’s taking this on like Jonas Yoder takes on building a barn—everyone has their jobs to do, when to do them by, and what they’ll need to do them with. I’ve just dropped the reins and given her her head, because I’ll exhaust myself if I don’t.”

“Grant wouldn’t want that,” Carrie said slyly.

Now it was Emma’s turn to poke her. “None of that, you. I’m beginning to think I’ve been wrong all this time to overlook her gift for organization. The next time I get impatient with her, I’ll just remember her lists of what she’s going to need in the kitchen to feed my crowd, and button my lips.”

“Come on. Let’s get our quilt on its frame.” They trooped upstairs and, with the ends of the quilt secured, rolled them into the frame until the center section was the only part exposed as a work surface.

“Should we do the flower medallions first?” Amelia asked, tactfully giving Emma the choice of the first stitches.

“I think so,” Emma said. “If we do that, it will anchor the layers together evenly. Then we can stitch the diamonds in the plain squares, and leave the feathers on the borders for last, in case things shift around a little.”

“I’ll take this rose, then.” Carrie seated herself on one side, Emma the other, and Amelia took the middle, where the markings indicated a day lily would soon bloom.

Amelia threaded her needle with the accuracy of long experience, and began to load stitches on it. “What was that you said about Joshua having some of Emma’s cake, Carrie?”

She might have known that wouldn’t pass unnoticed. “He told his mother he’d be eating here today. I’ve invited him to stay before, but he didn’t want to worry her.”

“Just the two of you?” Emma’s tone was conversational as she stitched the long side of a daisy petal.

“
Ja
. And before you say anything, save your breath. Mamm has already said it.”

“I wasn’t going to say a word.” Emma kept her eyes on her work. “Especially if Miriam has already seeded that ground.”

“I don’t know what everyone is getting so worked up about,” Carrie said, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “Melvin hired the man to do chores while he was gone. That’s it. From the way Mamm talked to me, you’d think I was in some kind of danger from him. But I’m not. I think he’s got eyes for someone else.”

“We all know you’re not,” Amelia said, her voice as soothing as lotion on a sunburn. “But you know how people are. The appearance of evil can be as damaging as the evil itself.”

“There is no evil. Or appearance. Or anything. There’s just dried apples and paint!”

“Did you have a lot of apples this year?” Emma nudged the topic in a different direction, and Carrie grasped the opportunity to get her emotions under control.

“Yes, the trees were loaded. It will be all I can do to finish picking before the first frost. And now the beets are ready to be pulled up, and I have to start on pickles soon.”

“If you like, I’ll stay tonight and give you a hand,” Emma said. “I can catch a ride home with Joshua afterward. We haven’t really talked much since the summer. It will be
gut
to catch up.”

Carrie wasn’t stupid—as the old folks might say, she could see through a grindstone when there was a hole in it. It was completely unnecessary for her friend to give up an evening playing Scrabble with Grant and his girls in order to stay and play chaperone for two people who hardly knew each other outside of Sundays.

On the other hand, there were all those apples and she only had one pair of hands. The thought of them made her happy, because she would have fruit through the winter.

“That would be wonderful
gut
,” she told Emma. “I would love the help, and as you say, Joshua goes right past your place on his way home.”

“Perfect. That’s settled, then.”

“I’ll drop in on Lena and let her know you’re staying for supper,” Amelia said.

It was unnecessary. Silly, even. But at the same time, Carrie couldn’t help but remember her Bible.
A true friend sticketh closer than a brother
.

Or a sister, as the case may be.

J
oshua looked a little taken aback when he came into the kitchen, shaking off his hands after washing them at the vegetable sink outside. “Emma,” he greeted her. “Waiting for Grant to pick you up?”

“
Nei
.” She turned from the counter, where she was slicing bread for supper. “Carrie needs a hand with those apples out on the porch, so I thought I’d stay and help this evening.”

“Is that so? Won’t Lena miss you?”

“When I’m out, Karen sends Maryann or Nathaniel to bring her to the big house for dinner. We eat over there a couple of times a week anyway. It’s nothing unusual.”

“What a
gut
friend you are.” He settled himself at the table, being careful not to take Melvin’s chair. Emma said nothing to this superfluous compliment, while the bread fell to the board in even slices.

“How are the sheds coming?” Carrie asked, setting two dishes of pickles on the table—dilly beans and tiny pearl onions.

“The equipment shed is scraped and ready for the first coat. The chicken house will have to wait, and I’ll alternate between apples and painting.”

“Melvin will appreciate your help on the barn.” Emma brought the bread to the table, and added the butter dish and a jar of plum jelly. “You might put out the word and make a work frolic of it.”

“Are you telling me how to do my job, Emma?” Joshua settled back in his chair, toying with the fork in front of him. “Does Grant put up with that?”

“Grant has been married before, and knows that a wife’s help includes sensible suggestions.”

Carrie wished she could speak so calmly when it was clear that Joshua—for some reason that eluded her—was itching to stir someone up. And the little dig about his single state hadn’t got past her, either.

“But you’re not his wife yet,” Joshua said.

“You’re right. I should have said a
fiancée’s
help.”

Unexpectedly, he grinned at her. “I can’t get under your skin, can I?”

“I don’t know why you’d want to.” Emma poured a glass of water and set it in front of him. “The thing about mosquitoes getting under your skin is that nine times out of ten, they get slapped.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Now, you see? This is what I miss about the old times. No matter what I did, you always had an answer for me—whether I liked it or not.” He sobered a little. “Sure you won’t change your mind?”

Good heavens. Carrie hoped she didn’t look as shocked as she felt. And with the invitations already going out!

“My mind was made up long before you ever had a chance to change it,” Emma told him. A smile of perfect contentment made her face glow. “So never mind your teasing.”

That’s all it was—teasing between two childhood friends. Carrie shook her head at herself for being so gullible. Of course she knew that Emma had had a talk with Joshua and told him there could never be anything between them. And now that wedding plans were in motion, the idea that anyone could come between her and Grant was ludicrous.

Especially Joshua…who was not the best marital prospect to begin with.

Carrie bent to check the casserole. It was bubbling hot and nicely browned, so she pulled it out and set it on the table. Joshua seemed to have recovered his good humor, and told stories of his life in Indiana that had them laughing and joking—as though all three of them had been childhood friends.

At length he pushed his dessert plate away and waved off her offer of another cup of coffee. “No, thanks, Carrie. That was a fine piece of cake.”

“Carrie is going to make me a wedding cake just like it,” Emma said. “She has a talent for them.”

“Why don’t you work in a bakery, then?” he asked Carrie.

It had honestly never occurred to her. “I don’t know. When would I have the time?”

“If you found a couple of hours a day, you could put a little money by.”

“Cakes like this take more than a couple of hours, Joshua,” Emma reminded him. “A wedding cake takes a couple of days.”

“Besides,” Carrie said, “the bakeries around here already have enough people. Most of them are family operations. If they needed an extra person, they would hire a sister or a cousin, not me.”

Emma began to stack the plates, and Carrie ran hot water into the sink.

“Joshua, are you going out to the orchard to pick?” Carrie asked. “I know it’s nearly dark, but there’s time enough to get in a bushel, I think. Emma and I have a good two or three hours of work here.”

“No, I think I’d best be getting home.”

“I was hoping to catch a ride with you,” Emma said.

“You’re welcome to come. I’d be glad of the company.”

“I didn’t mean now, Joshua, I meant later, when we had these apples done. You could pick another couple of baskets—it won’t be dark for a while yet.”

“I have some things to do. Sorry about that, Emma. Thanks for dinner, Carrie. See you tomorrow afternoon. When’s Melvin getting back?”

“I’m expecting him for supper.”

“Then maybe you won’t mind if I stay again? I’d like to talk the work over with him, and since I’ll already be here…”

“
Ja
, fine.”

“
Gut Nacht
.”

“
Hatge
, Joshua.”

The door closed behind him and the sound of his boots thumped down the steps. Emma looked at her and raised a brow. “So much for a ride home. I hope you don’t mind hitching Jimsy up for me.”

“Of course not. But what on earth has gotten into him? I’m not sure what shocks me most—that he wouldn’t stick around to give you a ride after dark, or his complete lack of concern about leaving you stranded on the other side of the settlement.”

“Not stranded. If you couldn’t take me, I’d just walk. Someone would be along to give me a ride.”

“That’s not the point.” At last Carrie figured out what it was about Joshua that had been bothering her since he’d come to work on their place. “The point is that he didn’t put you first, like a brother would a sister in the family of God. He put himself first.”

She scrubbed the plates vigorously while Emma fetched the first bushel of apples and a knife. She sat at the table and began to peel. “I’m sad to say you’re not the first person who has had that thought. I think it’s the root of his troubles, even back when we were children.”

“But did his parents not see it and take steps to check it?”

“I’m sure they did, but you remember how big their family was. He was the youngest of eleven, and his parents were older by the time he came along. Sometimes you can depend on the older siblings to take a hand in the bringing-up, but maybe it wasn’t quite so successful in his case.”

“That’s right. He was the baby of the family,” Carrie said. “That explains a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wasn’t very kind when he got here this afternoon. He said some things that…well, that were meant to make me feel bad about having you girls here and forgetting that he was to come.”

“Poor baby.” Emma finished one long spiral of peel and picked up another apple. “Not getting your undivided attention. I hope you stood up to him. He needs that.”

“So I saw. You really know how to handle him.”

“It feels strange, standing up to a man like that, but it’s the only way with Joshua. Jesus intended that we should be humble, walking beside our man, not ahead of him. But I don’t think He meant we should lie down so he could walk on us, either.”

Humility was a battle a woman chose to fight every day, obedience a decision she made every morning—and sometimes more often than that. But in most cases, your man would meet you halfway. It was a joy to be humble with a man who put you first, and no sacrifice to obey a man who included you in his decisions.

“Maybe that’s Joshua’s trouble,” she mused aloud. “He’s gone too long only making decisions for himself. It’s an adjustment to take your partner into account every time you go to do something.”

“Yes, well, he could take his sisters in the faith into account and get some practice at it,” Emma said.

“We’re fortunate in our men,” Carrie said as she dried the last plate and put it away.

“God has been good to us,” Emma agreed. “I thank Him every day on my knees, believe me. Now, look here. I’m already three apples ahead of you. Don’t cut yourself catching up to me.”

The drying boxes would be full tonight, and so would her soul, Carrie thought as the long peels curled away from her own knife. An evening of Emma’s company was just the thing to heal up the scrapes and cuts from her hired man.

The running lights glowed on the buggy as Emma climbed in next to Carrie. “You really don’t have to do this. I can walk.”

Carrie shook the reins and Jimsy started forward. “Don’t be silly. You’re wearing dark colors, and with your coat and bonnet, even a car with headlights would have a hard time picking you out.”

“I’m glad I wore a coat.” Emma settled on the bench and wrapped her arms around her carry basket, which now contained several jars of freshly made applesauce. “Winter is definitely around the corner. And just three weeks from now…”

Carrie could practically feel the happiness and anticipation filling Emma’s side of the buggy. “The time will flash by. Remember when we were planning my wedding? Even that morning there were things that hadn’t gotten done, and I had nearly a year to prepare.”

Emma was silent for a moment. “Would you have still made the choice you did, knowing what you know now?”

“You mean, about children?”

“That, and other things. Like Melvin’s struggle to find work he’s truly happy with.”

Those things might have made another woman answer differently. But Carrie knew her answer even before Emma had finished speaking. “
Ja. Ja
, I would have married him still, even knowing how hard it would be. He has been the only man for me ever since we met, that night at the band hop.”

“Love is a strange thing,” Emma mused. “Or maybe I should say the will of God is sometimes beyond what our poor brains can imagine. Who would have thought it would be His will that I marry a man who married someone else first?”

“Maybe that time of waiting had its purpose,” Carrie suggested. “Because I wouldn’t want to think that poor Lavina’s death was part of God’s plan to bring you and Grant together.”

“That’s the part my brain can’t comprehend,” Emma said. “And I’m glad it doesn’t have to. My part is to say yes, and I have. And will.” A few minutes passed, the seconds clopped out by Jimsy’s hooves on the asphalt. Then Emma said, “I can’t regret these twelve years with Mamm, though. They’ve been very precious years, and I’ll look back on them with gratitude.”

“There you are, then.” Carrie made the left turn off the county highway onto Edgeware Road.

They hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when the front lamps illuminated a figure wearing a white shirt. Tall, skinny, and coming from the Grohl place around the corner, maybe? That made it—

“Alvin Esch?” Emma called. “Is that you?”

The teenager turned and waited for them to draw up next to him. “Hallo, Emma. Hi, Carrie.”

“This is awfully late for you to be walking,” Carrie said. “I’m just going to drop Emma at the farm. I can give you a ride down to your folks’ place if you like.” It would take her back around to the county highway the long way, but it wasn’t like she had anyone waiting for her at home, was it? Melvin wasn’t coming back until tomorrow.

“
Denki
.” Emma jumped down and he folded himself into the back. Then she climbed in again. “I wanted to ask you something anyway, Emma.” His voice sounded muffled, as though he were hiding his mouth with his hand. “Has any mail come to you lately?”

Carrie peered out into the dark ahead of them and kept her mouth firmly shut. It would not do for him to know that Emma had told her and Amelia all about his correspondence courses—and her part in it. She would let Emma herself break that to him if she chose.

“You don’t need to be so vague, Alvin,” Emma said matter-of-factly. “Carrie knows. She knows what you and I and Aaron King were up to last year, and she knows that your packets were coming to my house.”

“Oh,” he said faintly. “I thought we agreed…”

“We did. They found out another way. And anyhow, it’s all water under the bridge, because I told you when the school year ended that I would not be getting the packets anymore.”

“But I’m starting the first term of junior year this week. I don’t know where else to have the people send them.”

“General Delivery at the post office?”

“You know Janelle would blab.”

“I thought the post office was supposed to keep people’s mail confidential?” Carrie couldn’t resist speaking up.

“We’re talking about Janelle Baum,” Emma reminded her, as if that explained everything. “She gave me a package for John once when I was in there. I could have been living in Strasburg for all she knew, and carried away his baler parts to sell at the flea market.”

“Please, Emma,” Alvin begged. “You’ve helped me this long.”

“And I was wrong to do it,” she said. “Besides, what good will it do you to have them sent to me for only a month? Come November, I’ll be living over on the other side of Whinburg.”

“You could get them there. I can send them a change of address.”

Emma turned on the seat to look at him as though she could see in the dark. Maybe she could. “It’s one thing to deceive Mamm for your sake, Alvin. But I will not deceive the man who will be my husband.”

A long breath went out of him, and Carrie could almost feel sorry for the boy. Almost, but not quite. Because all three of them knew that he was disobeying the
Ordnung
and had been for two years. On top of that, it was just the run-up for something even worse. He could not go on with his education and join church at the same time. One precluded the other.

“Alvin, you have two choices,” Emma said gently. “Either you stop here and be thankful for the two years you have more than everybody else, or you move to a district whose
Ordnung
allows its young men to finish high school.”

“I want more than high school,” he said stubbornly. “I want to be more than a farmer, or a harness maker, or a builder. I want to be a scientist, or an engineer.”