her chair as though she were in front of her own hearth at home. Emma and Rebecca sat on the ground nearby, Emma stitching on her own sewing project while Rebecca stared at the unconscious Jesse like a starved barn cat yearning for a bowl of cream set just out of reach.
Good thing Jesse was out cold, or he’d be fit to be tied.
“They did okay,” Luke told Griff. “They’re not going to be competing in any rodeos, that’s for sure, but as long as the herd stays docile they won’t have a problem riding flank from here to Hays.”
Griff nodded and then jerked his head toward the two empty graves. “Looks like they’re ready for us.”
Inside the second hole, Charlie tossed his shovel out onto the nearby ground and then Vic reached a hand down to pull him out. Luke shut his eyes and was swamped beneath a wave of sorrow. His first cattle drive as trail boss, and he was about to say a final farewell to two good men. Yes, Willie and Kirk had known the risks when they signed on, as every trail rider did, but that made no difference now. Not to them, and not to him either.
When he opened his eyes, he found Emma watching him. Their gazes met and held. He saw compassion on her face, and understanding lay heavy in her kind eyes. A sad smile softened those lovely lips. She knew his pain. She understood. Though she didn’t speak a word, he somehow drew strength from their silent conversation.
He squared his shoulders. “I guess they are,” he told Griff. He lifted his head and called in a voice loud enough to reach the entire camp, “It’s time to say goodbye to our friends.”
Griff clapped him on the back as they headed toward the graves.
Emma listened to the music echoing back to her from a rise in the land north of them. Luke’s voice, deep and vibrant, seemed to form a foundation for the others. It rumbled in her ears and in her heart. The tune of the song was unfamiliar, but the words were so touching that the sight of Charlie and Morris shoveling earth into the graves blurred behind a curtain of tears.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found.
Was blind, but now I see.
The words reached into her soul with gentle fingers and tapped on a door to her inmost being. At times she felt as lost as a blind woman, stumbling around with her arms outstretched, searching for a safe path to travel. Did the song refer to the sight of those who have passed from this life to the next, when the veil would be torn away and the faithful would encounter the Savior face-to-face? Or did it mean something more imminent?
I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.
Emma glanced sideways at Papa, who stood with his head bowed, his hat in his hand. Her gaze switched to Maummi, who clutched her hands before her with a white-knuckled grip, eyes and lips tightly shut. Did they see, really see, right now? Did they ever feel lost, as she did, wandering through life, looking for the place where they would encounter grace and happiness?
This funeral service was so different from anything she had ever encountered before. The one seared into her memory was Mama’s. When Mama breathed her last breath, the Amish community had converged around Papa and Emma and the infant Rebecca. Though Emma had been only seven years old at the time, she remembered the sight of the plain wooden coffin being lowered into the ground with ropes. The memory was as vivid as if the funeral had happened this morning. Bishop Miller, who had been a figure of authority even though at that time he had not yet been called to serve the Apple Grove district as a bishop, held one end of the rope. Emma still remembered his tender smile toward her across the grave as he let out the line. No graveside words then, no songs. A sermon and Scripture and lots of talking by various ministers in the community, followed by mountains of food on miles of tabletops. And the soul-searing ache that accompanied the knowledge that her beloved mother lay inside that simple wooden box being covered up with dirt.
I want songs at my funeral.
The thought startled Emma. The only music in any Amish service