Free The Calling of Emily Evans by Janette Oke Page B

responded quickly, “She’s got thet there big trunk. She can’t lift it.”
    “Want it in the house?” one fellow asked.
    “Oh, if you could, please,” Emily replied.“I would be so grateful.”
    One of the young men sprang easily up into the buggy and slid the trunk to the end where the other could reach one of the handles. With a bit of showing off, they hoisted the trunk and carried it down the broken walk to Emily’s door.
    “Where ya want it?” the talkative one asked, and Emily motioned to a corner of the room. The trunk was duly placed where she had indicated and the two were off, nudging and poking each other as they left with big, self-conscious grins on their boyish faces.
    “Thank you! Thank you so much,” Emily called after them and heard another nervous guffaw.
    With the buggy finally empty, Emily took a deep breath and went back outside. She managed a smile in spite of her aching back and arms, her flushed face and disarrayed hair, and spoke as kindly as she knew how to the little group that still stood watching, “I’m Miss Emily Evans. I have been sent here to start a church. I do hope all of you will be able to be here on Sunday morning for Sunday school.”
    Some of the older boys, whom Emily judged to be ten to twelve, turned away quickly in seeming embarrassment. She had invited them to Sunday school—right along with the little kids.
    Others looked at her blankly or nodded with shy smiles. Emily wondered how many of them had no idea what Sunday school was.
    “We’ll have singing and stories, and we’ll learn about Jesus,” Emily explained.
    As the small group began to disperse, Emily untied the horses, picked up the reins and crawled wearily back into the buggy. Through the district superintendent, her father had arranged for the horses to be boarded at a small farm on the edge of town. Referring to her map again, Emily drove there now. It was not far to the farmstead, but Emily would have to walk back and she was anxious to begin her cleaning, so she urged the horses to a trot.
    When she reached the farm, she noted that it really wasn’t in much better condition than the one at which she had spent the night. A young lad met her when she turned her horses in at the gate. Emily was surprised to see that it was one of the fellows who had stood by and watched her unload.
    “Hello,” she greeted him.“I understand that my father has made arrangements for me to keep my horses here.”
    He nodded but made no comment.
    “Would you like to show me where?” she asked him.
    “Jest put the buggy over there,” he said, with a motion of his head.“The horses can go to pasture.”
    Emily drove the buggy to the indicated place by the fence and climbed stiffly down. The kinks of the night before had still not left her body.
    The boy stood and watched as she unhitched the team.
    “What about the harness?” she asked him.
    “Guess you can hang it in the barn,” he answered casually.
    Emily was about to move the team closer to the barn when a shrill voice came from the small house to her left.“Claude! Shame on you for making the lady do the work. You take those horses to the barn and unharness them. Then turn them to pasture. We’re not paid for doing nothing, you know.”
    Emily turned to see a little bit of a woman standing on the porch. Over her small frame she wore an apron, startlingly white against the bleakness of the house. Her hair was pulled back into a severe knot at the back of her head, and from where Emily stood, the lady’s face looked so tired that it seemed drained of emotions.
    “Come on in,” she nodded to Emily, “I’m Annie Travis. I’ll fix some tea.”
    At the mention of tea, Emily’s stomach reminded her painfully, sharply that she’d had nothing to eat since last night and it was well into the afternoon.
    She wanted to decline the invitation and get back to cleaning, but her insides protested and so did her back. A cup of tea would be a good pickup. She