Emma was never entirely certain which of these personages was the one to which she ought to be deferring at any given moment, but . . . the truth was that although Liz only had an associate's degree in administration whereas Emma had a M.Ed. in language arts education, Emma had no doubt at all that Liz was the dominant personality, of which she herself would never manage to be more than the faintest shadow.
Which was ridiculous. She managed her home and her children; she had no trouble controlling her classes—discipline had never been a problem for her.
In spite of that, she was in constant awe of Liz. There was a line, somewhere, between being able to do things and being able to do them superbly. Emma was on one side; Liz on the other.
Even Liz's mother was in awe of her. Which said something.
So here she was. "Not the most important thing for clothes and stuff. That's all sorted out and packed. Your folks are dealing with renting out the house; they're using Huddy Colburn. I've put our things in storage, except for what Willard asked me to bring. I've rented a wagon and hired a driver.
"But I've never done any mission work. This Frau Färber in Bamberg—we'll be staying at her house, at least for the rest of the winter—wants me to be talking to other women, mainly. I think. So what should I take?"
Of all the things that Emma might have predicted an hour before, two hundred copies of an abbreviated German translation of Robert's Rules of Order would not have been right at the top. But that was what Liz gave her.
Along with a great big hug.
Bamberg, mid-January, 1634
Noelle Murphy pushed through the front door of Kronacher's print shop. "Hello. I'm back from Grantville. Anybody home?"
Martha came through the curtain and hugged her. "I'm so glad you could spend Christmas with your family. Everyone else is down at the city council meeting, listening to the debate about the missionaries who have come to town. Pastor Meyfarth and the uptimer. Thornton, his name is. After they're done, Mutti will bring them home for dinner. The two missionaries, I mean. Not the city councillors."
Noelle tipped her head to one side. "Is there enough in the pot for a couple more?"
"You and . . ."
"I brought you someone to help keep a lid on Melchior and Otto until I can get some CoC printers for Frau Else. He stopped at a street vendor's grill to get some breakfast, but he should be here . . ."
The door opened again.
". . . right now," Noelle finished. "Martha, this is my friend Egidius Junker. We call him Eddie. He's been studying law at the University of Jena. And economics. He's also spent a lot of time in Grantville, so he can sort of help explain things. Back and forth. Between, oh . . ." She paused. "Between people for whom explanations would come in handy. So I want him to meet your mom and brothers. He'll also get started on a couple of projects for me."
Martha looked doubtful. This Egidius Junker did not appear to be old enough to control her brothers. Though Noelle could make them pay attention and he was, perhaps, about the same age as Noelle.
"Eddie will work for you as an in-house translator," Noelle said to Frau Else between bites of sauerkraut.
"I can't afford . . ." Frau Else began.
"Don't worry about it." Noelle's tone was sharp. "Eddie will work for you as an in-house translator. That's why he's in Bamberg. That's what his letters of introduction say. That's the way it is."
Martha didn't look up, but glanced around the table while keeping her head down. First at Noelle, whose face was suddenly pinched and older than her years. Then at the uptimer, Thornton, who was talking to Pastor Meyfarth. Then at Pastor Meyfarth. Again at Pastor Meyfarth. She had looked at him before. At a break in the theological discussion, she asked, "Will your families be joining you soon?"
Willard Thornton smiled. "My wife Emma is already on her way to Bamberg. She should arrive any day, if the group she is traveling with isn't seriously delayed by this weather."
Meyfarth shook his head. "I am a widower. My wife and children died of the plague in Coburg, nearly two years ago."
Martha extended her sympathy, wondering a little why she didn't feel as sorry as she should and then not wondering. Meyfarth was a very attractive man. Perhaps twenty years older than she was. Mature. She liked that.
"Have you found a place to stay?"
Herr Thornton answered first. "We will be with Frau Stadtraetin Färber until we can find something more permanent."
"For the time being, I am at an inn," Meyfarth added. "I can't afford to remain, of course. As soon as I have taken a census of those persons who are likely to become my future parishioners, I will see if one of them is in a position to rent me a room."