die. Thank You, Lord.
“You can go on in and see her. I’m going to have my missus fix her up a broth that will help strengthen her bones.” He smiled at Rebecca. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me and bring it down to her when it’s ready?”
When the two of them had climbed the stairs, Jonas disappeared into the room. Luke stared for a long moment after the door closed behind him. He had no place here. He wasn’t family, he wasn’t Amish, and it was his fault she was hurt. Jonas wouldn’t let him near her, and rightly so.
It was enough to know she would recover.
The blazing fire in Emma’s side was somewhat quenched by the tight binding the doctor had applied. She couldn’t draw a deep breath without excruciating pain, but at least the bandages allowed her to take shallow breaths without too much discomfort.
A shame her feelings weren’t allowed the same comfort and support. The conversation with Luke pierced like an arrow through her heart. He would not become Amish, which meant he didn’t truly love her. Though her ribs hurt with every breath, it was the pain in her heart that hurt the most. From that she might never recover.
The door opened and Papa came into the room. The sight of him sent a rush of guilty tears into her eyes. She had shamed him again in front of Bishop Miller, who undoubtedly had received a report of her unseemly behavior in seeking Luke out and getting trampled on by cows in the process.
“Oh, Papa, I’m so sorry,” she said, sobbing.
Once the tears started, she could not stop them. They weren’t merely tears of guilt. They were tears that came directly from an injured heart.
Papa sat in a chair beside her bed, sought her hand to hold, and waited until the tears slowed.
“For what do you apologize?” His soft words and tender tone made it hard to talk without giving in to painful sobs again.
“I’ve made a fool of myself and of you.” She picked up the corner of the stiff linen sheet that covered her and blotted at her eyes. “I’ve fallen in love with…” More tears interrupted her words. “With a…” Another sob, and she buried her face in the sheet. “With an Englishcher.”
Again, Papa waited silently for her tears to run their course. He even produced a handkerchief and handed it to her.
“And does he return your love, this Englisch cowboy?”
“He doesn’t. I asked him…I asked if he would become Amish, and he said…” Pain pierced her side when she gulped inconsolable draughts of air. “He said no.”
Silence met her confession. Her quiet cries sounded in the room until finally they stilled. Only then did Papa speak.
“Luke Carson is a good man.”
Emma tried to swallow back her tears. Of course he was. If he were a scoundrel, she would never have fallen in love with him.
“But he is a wild stallion,” Papa continued. “The Amish life is a pond, small and contained, with rounded edges. What happens if you put a stallion in a pond, my Emma?”
The truth of his words penetrated, and her tears returned. “He drowns,” she answered.
Papa nodded. “He does indeed. A stallion must run in the open air, where a fish cannot live.” His voice became softer, and he leaned across the edge of the bed toward her. “And you know what happens to a fish when you take it from the pond and force it to live in the open air.”
She nodded. “It dies.”
“Yes, she does. What did our Lord say? Ein Dieb kommt nur, dafs er stehle, würge und umbringe.”
I came that they may have life, and have it more abundantly.
The words only made Emma’s tears flow harder. The truth in them carved into her soul like a sharp blade. In the past few days she’d lived life on the open plain, enough to know that she would never be satisfied there. She preferred the boundaries and cool waters of the pond.
“He is waiting outside, your Englisch cowboy. Will you speak with him?”
His words sent a flood of panic through her. What would she say to Luke? How would she apologize for trying to drown him in a pond full of Plain water?
She had to try, though. There had to be an end. Otherwise, she would forever drive herself insane trying to imagine his parting words to her, and hers to him. Swallowing back yet another wave of weeping, she nodded.
Papa nodded and patted her hand.