An Amish Noel

Emma pulled off her bonnet, too, and dropped her gaze to her hands. “I haven’t thanked you for saving his life, Luke.”

“You’re welcome.” He’d dive in a freezing river again if she would just smile at him—say she forgave him.

She didn’t. She left the room and followed Rebecca upstairs.

* * *

“You can’t still be mad at him after all these years.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Emma avoided eye contact with her cousin.

“I saw the look you gave Luke. If your eyes were a frying pan and Luke was an egg, he’d be burned to a crisp.”

“You’re being silly. He’s right. I couldn’t care less about what he does or where he goes.” And that was exactly how she would behave from now on. She wasn’t about to be known as a weak-willed old maid carrying a torch for someone who didn’t love her.

“I’m beginning to think you care more about Luke than you’re letting on.” Rebecca paused to knock on a door halfway down the hall.

“Come in.” Roy’s muffled voice smote Emma’s conscience. She should be worrying about him, not about what Rebecca or anyone else thought of her relationship with Luke.

Emma pushed open the door. Her brother was sitting up in bed with a checkerboard on his legs. Noah, the youngest Bowman son, was sitting beside his bed on a chair. He looked up and smiled. “You have fine timing. He was about to beat me.”

“For the third straight game,” Roy added.

Emma marched up to the bed and propped her hands on her hips. “For someone who cheated death, you look pretty good to me.”

He sank back against the pillows. “I’m still shook up, shveshtah.”

“I hope you are. Your foolishness could have put you in an early grave.”

Rebecca came to her side, her arms crossed over her chest. “He looks a lot better than he did yesterday.”

Emma bent to capture his face between her hands. She planted a kiss on his forehead, which he promptly wiped away. “He looks wunderbar. Can I take him home?”

“Maybe. I need to examine him first. Hold your arms straight out to your sides, Roy.”

He did. She nodded and made a small sound of approval. “Does that hurt?”

“Nee.”

“Goot. Open wide and stick out your tongue, but keep your arms up.” He did and she bent closer to examine him. “Now, flap your arms up and down.”

He shot her a quizzical look, but did as she asked.

Rebecca glanced at Emma, but couldn’t keep a straight face. “Does he look like a baby bird getting ready to fly the coop?”

Emma nodded. “He does.”

“Then I think he’s ready to be released.” Rebecca took a step back as Roy glared at her. Noah started laughing and almost fell off his chair.

“Ha! Ha! Very funny, cousin.” Roy tossed his covers back, sending the checkers flying.

“That’s a good one, Rebecca.” Noah slapped his thigh and kept laughing. “I’m gonna call him Birdie Roy from now on. A fella needs a nickname for sure. Birdie Roy. Tweet, tweet.”

Roy fumed at Noah. “I’m going to get dressed. Where are my clothes?”

“Mamm washed them. I’ll fetch them for you unless you’ve got a hankering to go sit on the clothesline for a spell. Tweet, tweet.” Noah left the room, still chuckling.

“Now look what you did. I’ll never hear the end of this.” Roy folded his arms over his chest.

“See you later, little cousin.” Laughing, too, Rebecca waved and left the room.

Emma gave her brother a quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right. Forgive our teasing.”

“I guess I have to. But if Noah keeps this up, he’s gonna get a snowball in the face the next time he steps outside.”

“Vengeance is not our way,” Emma chided. Roy was still such a child. He would need to grow up so fast once their father was gone. It hurt to think of the pain he would soon go through when he learned the news. Maybe her father was right. Maybe the boys deserved this one last happy Christmas. She would do that for them.

“I’ll put a handful of snow down his back if it will make you feel better,” Luke offered from the doorway. “That’s not vengeance, it’s brotherly love.” He came into the room with a bundle of clothes in his hands. “Mamm sent me up with these.”

Emma’s heart did its funny skip, but she quickly ignored the sensation. “Danki, Luke. As soon as he is dressed, I’ll take him off your hands. My buggy is outside.”

She left the room so her brother could have some privacy. Luke followed her into the hall and stopped close beside her. Too close. She could see the gray flecks in his blue eyes when she looked into his face. The soap he used accentuated his own unique masculine scent. It must be one of Rebecca’s. She made a number of herb-infused bars that smelled delightful. Emma was sure she hadn’t smelled this one before. She breathed in deeply, not wanting to exhale.

How foolish was that? As soon as she decided she wasn’t going to care what Luke did, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“Tell your father that I’ll be over first thing Monday morning.”

“All right.”

He hesitated, then said, “I don’t want to make things uncomfortable for you, Emma. Are you sure you are okay with this?”

He looked truly concerned about her. How was she supposed to answer him?

“Luke, it doesn’t matter to me if you work for my father. So long as you keep true to the teachings of our faith.”

His eyes went from warm to frosty in a heartbeat. “You mean stay away from drugs.”

If he was angry with her, so much the better. “You know what I mean. Our faith has many rules, and you like bending the rules.”

“What if I say that I’ve changed? Would you believe me?”

“I would pray fervently that is true.”

“Not exactly what I wanted to hear.”

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “It’s the best I can do.”

“Then maybe I should tell your father I’ve changed my mind.” He pulled back. A shadow slipped across his eyes.