Never Far From Home (The Miller Family 2) Read online

  Her Plain upbringing wouldn’t allow her to look at him that way, but she felt the same on the inside. “Bye, mamm,” she called, feeling another pang of guilt.

  “Don’t upset the canoe and fall in the river,” Julia hollered. “Sitting around all day in wet clothes won’t be very comfortable.”

  Emma nodded, waved, and hurried toward the path. That was certainly true. Taking extra clothes was out of the question since changing facilities wouldn’t be available. Ducking into the shrubbery wasn’t proper for a modest Amish girl. Her mamm said she could take off her shoes and socks in the canoe but made no other allowances for hot weather. Her dress reached to her shins and her kapp was to stay in place at all times. But Emma didn’t care; she wasn’t ashamed to be Amish. She enjoyed feeling part of a larger community that loved God and worshipped Him with their whole lives.

  The gorgeous June day wrapped around her during the walk to Aunt Hannah’s. The warm air hung over the tranquil beaver pond as eagles and turkey vultures soared effortlessly on wind currents. Bumblebees buzzed from one tall flower to the next, while insects emitted a hum that amounted to near cacophony. Maybe it was her imagination due to her good mood, but Emma thought she glimpsed the elusive beaver lifting his head above the surface of the water.

  Reaching her uncle’s farm, she waved to him in the cornfield and then craned her neck to see if Aunt Hannah was working in the vegetable garden. But she had no time to go looking for her as she crossed the road and started up her friend’s driveway.

  And the best day of her life thus far just got better. James Davis stood in the Hostetler yard with Sam Yoder.

  “Hi, Emma!” he shouted upon seeing her.

  “Hello, James. Hi, Sam,” she called, too excited to be nervous.

  “Are you all set? We’re planning to paddle all the way to the Ohio River.” James grinned as she approached.

  “I’m as ready as I ever will be.” Emma headed toward the house where Sarah was standing on the steps.

  Mrs. Hostetler walked onto the porch, letting the screen door slam behind her. “Sarah, take this along,” she said, handing her daughter a soft-sided cooler. “It’s full of Cokes and snacks for later. Hello, Emma.” She offered Emma a pleasant smile. “You girls make sure the driver is careful and don’t distract him. And no speeding.”

  “Jah, we’ll be careful.” Sarah took the cooler and walked toward Emma with smile. “I’m so glad you were allowed to come.”

  Emma waited until Mrs. Hostetler went inside before she spoke. “Me too,” she said, “but where’s Martha? Still getting ready?”

  “She’s not coming,” murmured Sarah. “Only courting couples are going today.” Sarah slanted her an odd look while Emma began to feel panicky.

  Only courting couples? So that’s what this is—my first date?

  She grabbed Sarah’s sleeve to talk before joining the others. “I didn’t know that. I thought we would stay in a big group.”

  Sarah patted her arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll be together, but a canoe only holds two people. That’s why it’ll be mostly courting couples. Sam asked me the night of the volleyball party.” Sarah’s face flushed with pleasure with the admission. “You had already gone home or I would’ve told you.”

  “But James didn’t ask me to come, you did,” said Emma. Her uneasiness grew by the minute.

  Sarah whispered conspiratorially. “He was afraid to. He thought it better if I asked and he just showed up, hoping for the best.”

  “Are you girls ready?” Sam called. “The river is waiting.”

  Sarah squeezed her hand. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  As much as Emma wanted to spend the afternoon with James, she didn’t like deceiving her parents. But then again…it was her Rumschpringe.

  James approached wearing a look of concern. “Is everything all right, Emma?”

  “Everything is okay, I guess.” She said nothing about her misgivings. After all, this date could be nothing but a fix-up by Sarah.

  “Let’s get going,” Sam said, opening the truck doors. “We still have to get two more people along the way.”

  Once the shiny green truck picked up the other couple, Emma sat back for the drive to Loudonville. Because they would be jammed together, the three females sat in the backseat while the men were up front. This separation didn’t surprise the Amish fellows, but James looked a bit disappointed.

  Emma caught him stealing glances in the rearview mirror more than once. Figuring out what she should do was hard enough, but with James being English it became nearly impossible.

  Once they arrived at the livery, they met others from their district in line to buy tickets. She somewhat relaxed seeing how many others were taking the trip. But once they were handed paddles and life preservers and walked to the water, some of her confidence fled. A very swift current carried the canoes away from the dock the moment people got in. When their turn came, James jumped down into the canoe and reached for her hand.

  Inhaling a deep breath, Emma stepped in gingerly and settled herself in front, careful to not rock the boat. “Don’t make it tip over,” she cautioned. “I’ll get mad as a hornet.” She was too nervous to look back at him.

  “You have my word. I’ll keep you safe and dry.” His words drifted up on the breeze.

  She chanced a smile over her shoulder as he paddled the canoe toward the middle of the river. James deftly dipped his paddle on one side and then the other. Although Emma had her own paddle, she seldom used it. After a while James needed only to steer, since the strong current from recent rains easily carried them downstream. Other couples bobbed in and out of sight. Sometimes it seemed they were alone on the river. Other times they rounded a bend and joined a log jam of boats. Emma leaned back and lazily watched the riverbank lined with willow and sycamore trees. Odd how ordinary scenes looked different when viewed from a passing boat.

  After a quiet interval James cleared his throat, drawing her attention from the peaceful valley. “What are you thinking about, Miss Miller?”

  “That I didn’t know this would be a…date,” she said, choosing the English word for courting. “And please call me Emma. I’m not used to such formality.” She glanced back at him.

  “I was afraid to ask. I thought you might say no because I’m not Amish. But if you got to know me better, you might give me a chance.”

  “I had noticed you were English. In the future, if you want to see me again, you should ask me directly.” They quickly ducked their heads as the canoe passed under a low-hanging branch.

  “And if I get up courage to ask you out, what do you suppose you might say?”

  She swiveled around to cast a withering look. “I have no intention of answering that question right now. It will depend on whether or not I remain dry for the entire trip, for one thing.”

  They glided past two overturned canoes whose occupants were busy splashing each other in the shallow water. Emma shook her head but couldn’t stop grinning at their antics. Styrofoam coolers and life preservers floated downstream as the splashing battle raged on. James steered to give them a wide berth.

  Once well beyond them, James said, “On my honor, Emma. I’ll do everything possible to make sure not a drop of water lands on you.”

  Emma discovered that she thoroughly enjoyed canoeing. Birds sang from cattails, dragonflies flitted just above the water, while small fish darted beneath the surface, their silvery bodies reflecting the bright sunshine. Plenty of shade and a light breeze kept them cool. She couldn’t remember feeling so relaxed, certainly not with a young man she barely knew.

  James entertained her with delightful stories from his childhood. He was attentive and gentlemanly, and he kept them both dry for the entire trip. For one fleeting moment, Emma wished the day would never end. But all too soon they arrived at the line of canoes heading for the boat dock. When Emma spotted Sarah and Sam waiting to unload, she knew the eight-mile trip was over.

  “What happened to paddling down to the
Ohio River?” she asked, more to herself than to James.

  He leaned forward. “And what provisions do we have left? That’s quite a distance.”

  She peered inside the cooler. “Two apples, a bag of chips, and two bottles of water.”

  “Sounds like enough to me, but I’d better steer this ship into port.” James paddled the canoe toward the dock. “I don’t want to jeopardize my taking you out again.”

  Emma blushed, feeling warmth deep in her belly. He liked her. And so far, she liked him. What did it matter if he was English? They had sheep-farming in common. Their ages were a good match. They were both Christians and loved the Lord.

  That’s all that should matter.

  But much more than that mattered to Simon Miller. He had been waiting on the porch for his daughter to come home since supper. When he finally heard a vehicle pull into the yard, he walked down the steps to see who was bringing her home. A long-bed truck turned around in front of the porch and out jumped Emma. Her cheeks looked a little suntanned and her kapp was spotted.

  He raised his hand to shake a finger at his elder daughter. “You told your mamm you were going canoeing with Sarah Hostetler and a group of courting couples.” He heard the fury in his voice but couldn’t seem to control it. This words startled birds from their roost in the lilac bushes. “You said nothing about your young man being English!”

  Mr. Miller, sir?” the young man said, stepping toward Simon. Julia bit her lip. She’d had a bad feeling something like this would happen ever since this Englischer delivered the loom.

  “I’m James Davis. I drove five people today to Loudonville. I just dropped Miss Hostetler off a few minutes ago, and she only lives around the corner. Emma wasn’t alone with me.”

  An Amish young man whom Julia didn’t recognize got out of the passenger side of the truck. His being in the vehicle probably won’t help Emma’s case, Julia thought.

  “I know very well where the Hostetlers live, young man,” Simon said as his face turned florid with anger. “But this is a family matter, and it’s none of your concern. Emma is my daughter, and she’s only sixteen.”

  “Daed,” Emma said in a soft, pleading voice.

  “No, young lady. We will not discuss this in front of outsiders.” Simon pointed at the young men. “I’d like you two to be on your way,” he said, and then he turned his finger toward Emma. “And you go inside the house right now.” His hand shook with fury.

  Emma’s face reddened as she opened her mouth to argue, but not a sound came out. Instead, tears began to stream from her eyes. She looked at the English sheep farmer for a long moment before fleeing toward the house. She stomped up the porch steps noisier than Matthew or Henry.

  Simon waited until the screen door slammed shut before he turned back to the young men.

  James Davis glanced from Simon to Julia and back to Simon. “I’m sorry, sir. I meant no disrespect to Emma, and I don’t want to cause trouble in your family.”

  Simon stood motionless, like a hawk perched on a power line. Julia wanted to thank James for driving Emma home from Sarah’s, but she didn’t dare. Blessedly, the two boys climbed back into the pickup and left without another word.

  Simon stared down the driveway until the truck’s taillights disappeared from sight.

  “You lost your temper,” Julia said. “You know what Scripture says about losing one’s temper.”

  He turned to face her. “Jah, thank you, fraa. ‘Stop being angry! Turn from your rage! Do not lose your temper—it only leads to harm.’ Psalm 37:8 is much easier to quote than live by.”

  “We should have expected some rough patches when our daughter decided on a full Rumschpringe.” Julia spoke as gently as she could.

  “Emma going canoeing with an Englischer…you call that just a rough patch? I would call that a disgrace.”

  “No, Simon. I saw her climb out of the backseat. She wasn’t sitting next to him. Do not falsely accuse her of doing something disgraceful.”

  He walked up onto the porch and lowered himself into the swing, looking like a man in his sixties instead of his forties. “I shouldn’t have shouted. You’re right, but when I heard Emma was going in a group of courting couples, I assumed everyone would be Amish.”

  She patted his knee. “I know, ehemann, but what we do and say now is very important. These are her running-around years. We want her to decide to become baptized and join the church by her own choice. If we distrust her, if we show no confidence in her ability to pick right from wrong, we will only drive her away.”

  He gazed at her with sad, weary eyes. “I am a district deacon besides her daed. I cannot turn a blind eye to disobedience.”

  “No one is saying you should, but she did nothing today that was disobedient. She told me an Englischer was driving them to Loudonville and that she would ride with Sarah. That is exactly what took place. I, myself, am glad that young Davis drove her home. I don’t want her walking the back trail alone at night. There’ve been sightings of bobcats in the county. Although I believe all God’s creatures have a place on this earth, I would prefer my kinner not cross paths with a bobcat at night.”

  Simon stood and offered Julia his arm to lean on. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. That was a mistake, but let’s get you inside.” Slowly, because the damp night air had stiffened her joints, the pair walked back into the house.

  Emma was sitting at the kitchen table with her kapp off. A glass of water was in front of her. Her face in the kerosene lamplight looked painfully young and vulnerable.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong, mamm and daed,” she said with her lower lip trembling. “I asked you if I could go to Loudonville and you said jah. How did you think we would get there? It’s too far to go by buggy. If we were to canoe eight miles, we’d never make it back home the same day.” The trembling of her lip stopped as Emma lifted her chin. She stared into Julia’s eyes instead of Simon’s. “What did you tell daed?”

  Her tone was almost defiant. Emma seemed to be blaming her for Simon’s overreaction, and while Julia didn’t appreciate it, she had no wish to fan the flames.

  “Jah, I told him everything you said, daughter, but he didn’t understand Englischers were going along too.”

  Emma glanced at Simon and then stared at the wall. “We don’t live in a world unto ourselves. The Bible instructs us to love one another, not only other Plain people. It’s the second greatest commandment.”

  Simon snorted, not appreciating in his turn someone quoting Scripture to him, especially not a sixteen-year-old who hadn’t taken the kneeling vow yet. “I’m well aware of what the Good Book says, including Matthew 22:39. Let me ask you a question: Who is this Englishman to you?”

  Julia held her breath. Amish parents usually didn’t ask kinner who they were courting—it was a secret until an engagement was announced. They gave young people a certain measure of privacy, trusting that they would make the right decisions.

  After what seemed like a long time yet was probably only several seconds, Emma said in a not quite respectful tone of voice, “He is my friend, daed, and a fellow sheep farmer.” The girl looked at Simon and then focused on her mamm.

  Julia saw the challenge in those cornflower blue eyes.

  “All right then, go up to bed. I’m sure you’re tired,” Simon said.

  Emma immediately did as she was told. They heard her take the steps two at a time.

  “We must learn patience, Simon, both you and I.”

  “Ach, my hair will either turn snow white or all fall out before this Rumschpringe is done.” He exhaled a heavy sigh and also headed up the stairs to bed.

  But not Julia…she sat at the kitchen table, knowing sleep wouldn’t come with her current feelings of unease. She worried that Emma would venture too far off the accepted path and end up being gossiped about, if not shunned outright, by the district. Or Emma would become attracted to the English lifestyle to the extent that she’d leave her Amish world behind.

 
And Julia feared that she wouldn’t have the necessary patience to guide the young woman because of her own personal physical pain. For more than an hour, she thought and worried, plagued by anxiety and self-doubts.

  Finally, she prayed to God, who had sacrificed His own Son so that she and all believers might find salvation. Her own dilemma with a willful teenager testing her wings paled to nothing by comparison.

  “Don’t go getting any ideas, Curly,” Simon warned the Angora goat. In the past few months since his sons had bought the ornery creature for Emma’s birthday, it had done nothing but eat. It had increased in size by half while not improving its disposition an ounce. Even now she appeared to be watching, biding her time until he turned around to untie the rope from the stake. Then she would charge and butt his backside just for fun.

  “You are supposed to be Emma’s,” he muttered. “And the boys should be moving you around the yard so you don’t overgraze an area down to bare dirt. Come along, Curly.” Simon led the goat around to the back of the house where the grass was rather long. He studied the length of rope and tied her to a tree just beyond reach of Julia’s kitchen garden and the flower beds. “Eat grass!” he ordered.

  Curly cocked her head to assess him, her jaws slowly grinding lunch into a watery green stew. Backing away slowly, he heard the sound of buggy wheels in the driveway. Simon didn’t pause to shield his eyes until he was well past Curly’s reach.

  “Seth,” he called. “You’re a sight for sore eyes!” He hadn’t seen his brother since the last preaching service and hadn’t been able to share a word because all the men had been in a dither. Seth had been part of that fracas, but at least he hadn’t been the leader.

  Seth jumped down from his open buggy and tied his mare to the hitching post. “Gut nachmittag, Simon.”

  “Care to put her in the pasture?” Simon asked. “Why not stay for lunch? Julia and Leah are trying a new tuna fish casserole recipe. How dangerous can that be?” He laughed at his joke as Seth joined him near the flower beds.