Huckleberry Spring (10 page)

“It’s funny when you really think about it. I’m all thumbs, yet I almost lost one of them.”

Chuckling, he took her hand in both of his and ran his finger lightly across the back of her thumb. He held on for longer than he meant to. Her skin was just so soft.

Emma coughed as if she had a large boulder stuck in her throat, and Ben feared that she might bolt for the house and the safety of the bathroom at any moment.

Instead, she cleared her throat and stood her ground. “Lizzie and I are making a quilt together,” she said.

Relieved at the change of subject, Ben found a gauze pad in Mammi’s first aid kit and began to dab the blood from Emma’s cleaned forehead. It didn’t want to stop bleeding yet. “For the orphans’ fund.”

“Jah. We are almost done piecing the top together. It is very pretty.”

Ben furrowed his brow, hoping that Lizzie’s quilt project hadn’t been perilous for Emma’s fingers. She didn’t always do so well with pins. “She says she’s been to your house every day this week.”

“I told her we could go to her house, but she says she doesn’t mind coming over to mine. Maybe she likes getting on Mahlon’s nerves.”

“I haven’t seen Mahlon since . . . I haven’t seen him for a long time.”

She wouldn’t look him in the eye. “He always seems to have a chip on his shoulder about one thing or another.”

“Did he get baptized yet?”

“No, he’s still in rumschpringe, though I don’t know why. I’ve been baptized, but most of his friends haven’t yet. They like Davy Burkholder’s cell phone.”

“But he’ll stay in the community, won’t he?” Ben said.

“I don’t wonder that he will. Maybe he thinks he’ll have to stop being grouchy once he’s in the church. Or maybe he’s waiting to find the right girl before he decides to be baptized. Lizzie lectures him frequently about the evils of waiting too long to join the church. When she talks like that, he just grins and winks at her. That’s usually enough to get her good and riled up.”

Ben nodded. It wasn’t hard to get Lizzie riled up. He sobered when he thought of Mahlon. At least Mahlon talked to Lizzie. He would probably never speak to Ben again. He couldn’t forgive Ben for leaving his twin sister.

If Ben had been in Mahlon’s shoes, he might have felt the same way.

He reached out and tucked an errant lock of hair behind Emma’s ear. She never could quite manage to keep her unruly hair underneath her kapp. He’d tucked her hair behind her ears dozens of times when they were engaged.

She lost her smile and clasped her fingers together in her lap. He withdrew his hand and pretended that he hadn’t just done something incredibly stupid—something that dredged up all sorts of pleasant and painful memories.

He squeezed a dollop of ointment onto her cut, spread it around, and covered it with a gauze pad.

He wasn’t surprised to see tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “My hands aren’t very gentle. It can’t be comfortable to have me poking you like that.”

She valiantly blinked back the tears and nodded. “You’ve been very kind. It’s starting to hurt a little bit, now that the shock has worn off.”

He cleared his throat. “Let me look at your eyes.”

She turned her trusting gaze to him, and he tried not to melt like a snowman in July. “It doesn’t look like you have a concussion. That’s good news.”

She smiled weakly. “Jah. That last concussion was painful. I don’t remember much about driving your dat’s buggy into the ditch, but I remember how kind you were to me when it happened. You carried me for more than a mile until you could flag down a car to help us.”

Ben folded his arms across his chest to keep the emotions safely bound and gagged. He remembered that day vividly—his anguish at seeing Emma in pain, the comfort of holding her safely in his arms, and the overwhelming need to protect and care for her. That memory haunted him every night.

He reached out and, with his thumb, caressed the side of her forehead not covered by the gauze pad. Emma was a special, wonderful girl who tried so hard to do everything right that sometimes she went overboard in her eagerness. He loved her for that.

The longing to shelter her clobbered him upside the head and left him breathless.

He jumped to his feet and turned his back on her once again so she wouldn’t see the despair that must surely be written all over his face. “I will ride to the Millers’ and use the phone they have in their shop. We should get you to a doctor.”

He didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. With long, purposeful strides, he walked back to the house. He had to get out of Bonduel. If he had his way, he’d already be on a bus.

Dawdi reclined in his chair, looking like he’d worked up quite a sweat while Ben was out. Mammi sat next to him on the sofa knitting furiously. A faint whiff of what was in the pot hung in the air, but Mammi didn’t seem to be in any hurry to remove it from the stove. Perhaps it would boil itself down to mush.

Ben wiped any hint of distress off his face and sat on the sofa next to Mammi. “Dawdi,” he began, “you know I would do anything to help you on the farm.”

Mammi took her hand from her knitting long enough to pat Ben’s knee. “I know you would, dear.”

“But now that you’ve recovered from surgery, it’s time for me to go back to Florida. I’m helping Marvin Shrock mind his store. He needs me back there as soon as I can.”

Mammi went so far as to drop her knitting needles in her lap and stare at Ben in shock.

Dawdi rocked his recliner and let it catapult him to his feet. “Two weeks is long enough to sit in one place. I’ll go feed the chickens.”

Mammi could have set fire to the sofa with the glare she sent in Dawdi’s direction. “Now, Felty. Don’t you care about what happens to your grandson?”

Dawdi was halfway out the door. “We’ll miss you, Ben. Send us a postcard so we know you got home okay.”

“Felty, stop right there. You know Ben can’t leave.” She looked at Ben and the wrinkles bunched around her lips. “Felty is trying to put on a brave face, as he always does, but he hasn’t told you about the other surgery he must have.”

Ben’s gut clenched. “Other surgery?”

“Other surgery?” Dawdi said.

Mammi glanced at Ben like they were in cahoots with each other. Then she turned to Dawdi with a patient expression on her face, as if he had misplaced his own head and she was eager to help him find it. “Felty can’t hardly walk with those plantar warts on his feet. The doctor’s been urging him for months to get them removed. Two weeks from now is the day.”

Dawdi stepped back into the house and shut the door. He didn’t exactly slam it, but he didn’t go gentle on it either. He stroked his beard as his gaze darted between Ben and Mammi.

“Pumpkins take a long time to grow,” he said.

The sit-ups must have been taking their toll on his faculties.

Mammi picked up her knitting needles and took up as if she’d never stopped. “Yes, they do. We can’t rush these things.”

Dawdi slumped his shoulders and groaned in surrender. “These plantar warts have been bothering me for months.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” Mammi said. She nudged Ben with her elbow, a movement she could execute without dropping a stitch in her knitting. “Are you sure you can’t stay? Felty won’t be able to walk.”

Shrugging off the distinct feeling he’d been hoodwinked, Ben nodded. “I will stay. I’ll do everything I can to help Dawdi.” He stretched his spine and rubbed the back of his neck. But he’d stay away from Emma. No good could come of it. For either of them.

As he rode to the Millers’ so he could use their phone to call a driver to take Emma to the hospital, an idea struck him. It wondered him if he might not be going about this in the wrong way.

Why couldn’t he help Emma at the same time he helped Dawdi?

But what did Emma need besides a few stitches and a first aid kit strapped to her wrist?

Chapter 7

Ben climbed out of his buggy and took a deep breath. He hadn’t been to a gathering for months. Would everybody stare at him, like a leper?

He shook off that immature teenage anxiety. He wasn’t looking to be accepted into a group of friends or even trying to check out the cute girls. He had come for one purpose. Once he did what he came here to do, he’d retreat to Huckleberry Hill and never have to dodge giggling girls again.

Lizzie jumped out of the buggy and grinned at him. “Feeling a little awkward?”

“I’m too old for this.”

“You’ll be fine. Try not to break a hip during volleyball.”

“Whatever you say.”

She sidled next to him as if she had a wonderful secret to tell. “Emma will be here.”

“I’m not here to see Emma.”

“Maybe not,” Lizzie said, “but you’ll see her. And she’ll see you. Maybe sparks will ignite.”

He clenched his jaw. He’d rather not have Lizzie working against him. “The only sparks I might see are if you and Mahlon Nelson stray too near each other. Just don’t get into a fistfight.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Mahlon won’t dare start an argument with all these people around. I always win. He doesn’t want to be humiliated in front of his friends.”

The Yutzys had set up a volleyball net in their backyard and a game was in full swing. Ben’s gaze traveled around
die youngie
milling near the snack table. John Shirk lugged a five-gallon jug across the lawn toward the table. Might as well start with him.

He turned to Lizzie. “Bye. I’ve got people I need to see.”

Lizzie raised her brows. “Ooh. People. It sounds so mysterious.”

He gifted her with an unamused smile and walked away.

Meeting John halfway across the yard, he said, “Can I help?”

John nodded, set down the jug, and let Ben grab one of the handles. They lifted together and hefted the jug onto the table next to the paper cups.

For a split second, Ben reconsidered his choice. John Shirk was a fine young man, stocky and solid, who had a gute job at the sawmill and wasn’t afraid of hard work. Emma would never go hungry if she were married to John. He’d take good care of her.

But John wasn’t all that quick on his feet. Would he be able to rush in and save Emma from a speeding train or a runaway horse? And how could he hope to tend to Emma’s cuts and scrapes with those thick fingers of his?

He studied John out of the corner of his eye while he filled a few cups with lemonade. John wasn’t nearly good enough for Emma, but what choice did Ben have? He had to find someone, and John was one of Ben’s top three prospects. He’d have to make do.

He handed John a cup of lemonade. “How have you been, John?”

John took a gulp of lemonade. “I thought you weren’t coming back. At least that’s what Mahlon said.”

“I’m here just long enough to help my dawdi while he has surgery.”

“It’s gute to see you for whatever reason,” John said.

“So, what have you been up to? Do you have a girlfriend yet?”

“Nae. I thought Elizabeth Zimmerman and I might get along all right, but she wasn’t interested.”

Ben shook his head. “Her loss.”

“But I did buy that hunting rifle I’ve had my eye on.”

How would John be able to keep Emma safe when he went hunting? Maybe he could take her hunting with him. Ben ground his teeth together and tried not to imagine what could happen if Emma and a gun ever came within several hundred feet of each other.

“Have you been out to shoot it yet?”

“I used it all winter. Tagged myself a big buck.”

“Congratulations.” He rested a hand on John’s shoulder and hesitated only for a moment. Did he really want to see Emma with someone else? He took a breath and let the pain wash over and through him. More than anything, he wanted to see Emma happy. “Talking about girlfriends—”

“Were we talking about girlfriends?”

“Have you ever considered taking Emma Nelson home from a gathering?”

John swallowed down the wrong throat and began coughing violently. Ben pounded him on the back. “Emma Nelson?” John said.

“Jah. She’s pretty. I bet she’d be delighted.”

John furrowed his brow. “I could never take Emma out, Ben. Her candle is still burning for you. I’d rather not waste my time on another man’s farm.”

“It’s been almost nine months, John. She’s ready to move on. Ready to find someone who can make her truly happy.”

“Are you sure?” John asked.

“I moved to Florida. We both know it’s over.”

John lifted his eyebrows. “She’s real pretty. After you left she acted like she was okay with it, but I didn’t really believe it. She’d lost that light in her eyes, you know, like she was still hoping for you to come back. I would have tried before now, but she doesn’t seem interested in anybody.”

“It’s over between us. Everybody knows that.”

John regarded Ben with a suspicious eye. “Why are you so eager to match me up with Emma?”

“I want her to be happy.” He pushed the words out of his mouth. “And you’re a gute man.”

John tilted his head and drained his lemonade cup. “I’ll think on it. Emma is a wonderful-gute girl, even though she attracts accidents like honey attracts bees. I’ll have to secure my buggy,” he said, laughing at his own cleverness.

Maybe John wasn’t such a gute idea. Ben didn’t like it when people made fun of Emma. But it was too late now. The seed had been planted. He’d just have to wait and see if it germinated.

He shook hands with John and stalked off to seek his next target. Adam Wengerd played volleyball with a gaggle of young females who spent more time looking at him than they did at the ball.

Adam was sufficiently tall, with dark brown hair and tawny eyes that the girls found dreamy—at least according to Lizzie. Adam taught school, so he would be out of a job if he married Emma. That was one strike against him. Emma’s husband had to have a steady job or a good farm to support his family. Ben would not have Emma living in a hovel. But Adam was quite charming with the girls. He’d keep Emma mesmerized with his light brown eyes and straight, white teeth. Ben didn’t like him already.

He was perfect.

Ben charged right into the volleyball game, hit a ball that came his way, and stood next to Adam in the front row. The little girl to his left who looked as if she’d turned sixteen yesterday glared at him for taking her place beside the man of her dreams. “Adam,” Ben said, ignoring the girl shooting darts at him with her eyes, “I need your help with something. Can we talk?”

Adam jumped high in the air and blocked a volley coming from the other side. “Sure. Anything for you, Ben.”

He winked at the little girl next to him, which catapulted her into a fit of giggles. “Edna, you’ll have to cover the front line for me. Do your best, and I’ll be right back.”

Adam led Ben to the shade of a large oak standing watch over the backyard. “Is something wrong? How can I help?”

“This is going to sound out of the blue, but have you ever thought about dating Emma Nelson?”

“Thought about it? I’ve almost asked her to ride home with me twice. But I don’t think she’d say yes. How can any boy compete with the memory of Ben Helmuth?”

Ben looked at the ground and shook his head. “I want you to take her on a date or something.”

“Why?”

“I’m going back to Florida. She needs to find somebody else.”

Adam rubbed his jaw, considering Ben’s proposal. “I don’t like being any girl’s second choice.”

“I was the
wrong
choice. Emma sees that now. Don’t you think she’s worth a try?”

Adam’s face brightened. “She’s definitely worth a try. If you want me to ask her out, I’ll ask her out. My dawdi wouldn’t have that new roof over his head if it weren’t for you.”

“Forget about that. I’m glad I could help.”

Adam glanced behind him. “I’ve got to get back to the game, but I’ll be sure to do something about Emma. It would be really fun.”

Ben thumbed his suspenders and surveyed the crowd once again. So far, his plan was working out better than expected. Now he just had to have a visit with Freeman Kiem.

He furrowed his brow and hoped that assigning three boys at the same time wasn’t a mistake, but he wanted to give Emma plenty to choose from. They couldn’t all court her simultaneously, but maybe three at once would give her a chance to quickly cull out the choices and find the one she wanted to marry come autumn.

Pain twisted in his gut, like it did every time he thought of giving Emma up to some other boy. The fact that it had to be done didn’t make it any less painful, and it certainly didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, he felt more miserable than he had for months.

He had to get out of Bonduel.

As soon as Dawdi got his plantar warts frozen off, he would go home.

Lizzie and Emma stood by the lemonade. Emma sported an oversized gauze pad on her forehead that covered half of her eyebrow. Ben supposed people were probably used to seeing her like that, with some sort of bandage or cast at gatherings.

Although it had been difficult, he had insisted on taking Emma for stitches himself. He could have sent Mammi or Dawdi, but he wanted to make sure that she was properly cared for. It had always been that way. He felt so protective of her that no treatment or care seemed good enough unless he saw to it personally.

The doctor had given her three stitches, which didn’t seem like near enough, but he insisted that Emma would be good as new, except for a new scar that would give her a good story to tell.

The accident with the watering can happened almost a week ago. She would be able to take off the bandage soon. The corner of Ben’s mouth curled involuntarily. It was so cute the way the gauze pad draped over her eyebrow like a pirate’s eye patch.

Lizzie acted as if she were planning some secret spy operation, whispering instruction in Emma’s ear and keeping her eyes darting from one person to another. In between sips of lemonade, Emma shook her head and seemed to be resisting whatever Lizzie was planning. She glanced Ben’s way once but quickly averted her gaze. He quickly averted his.

He saw Freeman Kiem huddled in a cluster of other boys, acting as if he were trying to work up the courage to talk to one of the many girls who also seemed to congregate in packs at these gatherings.

Ben marched across the lawn once again. He’d talk Freeman into dating his ex-fiancée, then get out of here. Lizzie could find some nice young man to drive her home.

“Freeman,” Ben said. He stopped short as Freeman turned, and he caught sight of Mahlon Nelson standing in the midst of Freeman’s pack.

Too late to retreat. Mahlon had already seen him. Mahlon’s expression didn’t change, but Ben could see the muscles of his jaw tighten ever so slightly. “Hello, Mahlon. Hello, Joshua.” His mouth felt as if it were filled with sawdust. “Have you tried the lemonade? It’s wonderful gute.”

He hoped that wasn’t a bald-faced lie. He hadn’t actually tried the lemonade, but lemonade was a safe and nonthreatening topic of conversation. What would Mahlon think if he knew that Ben was collecting boys for Emma to date? He’d probably be glad. He certainly wanted Emma to find someone worthy of her as much as Ben did. At this point, Mahlon felt so mad at Ben, he wouldn’t approve of Ben and Emma getting back together even if they wanted to.

“How long are you going to be in town, Ben?” Joshua asked. “We heard your dawdi is feeling poorly.”

“He’s getting surgery on his feet next week. Once he’s recovered, I’ll be going back. Maybe three or four weeks.”

Freeman put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve missed you. No one can wield a hammer like Ben Helmuth.”

“Jah,” said Davy Burkholder. “I never thought anyone could rebuild a chicken coop so fast.”

Everyone in their little circle laughed except for Mahlon and Ben. The whole community knew of Emma’s penchant for accidentally destroying small structures. They always talked of her mishaps with affection instead of scorn. But the chicken coop was another painful memory of what Ben had lost. If he judged the look on Mahlon’s face correctly, Mahlon’s thoughts turned in the same direction.

Joshua slid his hands into his pockets. “Emma tells me she’s gonna grow a giant pumpkin for Anna Helmuth. That was quite a sight last year.”

Never one to hold his tongue, especially in defense of his sister, Mahlon snapped, “Your mammi can grow her own pumpkins.”

Joshua, Freeman, and the other boys stared at him in dismay, probably wondering why he cared about pumpkins and if he would throw a fit about them.

“She’s really grateful for the help,” Ben said, in his soft voice that usually placated even the most hostile of foes.

“Did you put your mammi up to it? Are you regretting breaking up with Emma, or don’t you care about her feelings at all?”

Ben would be trapped no matter how he answered that question. He smiled weakly and made his posture as humble as possible. “She’s doing a gute job. The plant has spread out on the mound almost four feet. She’s got a real talent for it.”

“
You
broke it off with Emma?” Joshua asked. “I thought she broke up with you.”

“That’s what he wanted everybody to think,” Mahlon said. “So he wouldn’t look like the bad one.”

Ben wanted to crawl into a little hole. He’d really made a mess of things. Leave it to Mahlon to point out one of his many flaws. “I thought everybody knew that I broke it off.”

“I did,” Davy said. “It was pretty obvious the way Emma acted.”

“I never wanted to hurt anybody, especially not her,” Ben said. But he hadn’t gotten what he wanted. He’d hurt Emma and, no doubt, her entire family. Not to mention his own family.

“So now you won’t even say Emma’s name out loud.”

The boys standing in Mahlon’s little circle slowly began to find other places to be. They tiptoed away from the simmering confrontation and toward the volleyball game or the lemonade table.