A Love for Lizzie

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A Love for Lizzie Page 9

by Tracey J. Lyons


  They went up and down one of the longer rolling hills. Lizzie lifted her face to the sky, feeling the warm breeze wash over her skin. A hawk circled above them. Down in the valley she could see fields of freshly mowed hay. The cuttings were in neat rows, waiting to be picked and formed into square bales by the baler. The road passed a fenced-in field where some cattle lazily grazed.

  She cast Paul a sidelong glance, observing how deftly he handled the horse and buggy. The leather reins were looped loosely through his strong fingers. With a simple tug on those straps, he led the horse around a pothole. Today they’d made a big decision. She hoped with all her heart that it would be the right one.

  “Do you think I was pressuring you?” His deep voice carried to her over the breeze.

  She looked up at him in surprise, wondering how he’d known her thoughts. “Nee. I am doing this for all the right reasons. My only hope is that if my vader ever finds out where the extra money is coming from that he’ll be able to forgive me.”

  “There won’t be anything to forgive, Lizzie. You are only doing what needs to be done to save your family.”

  Lizzie wanted to believe him. But as they continued home, the self-doubts continued to swirl around her.

  Beside her, Sadie fidgeted. “Was iss letz?” Lizzie asked. “What’s wrong, Sadie?” When she continued to move around on the seat, Lizzie warned, “If you don’t hold yourself steady, you’ll end up dumping us both out on the road.”

  Leaning in close, Sadie whispered into her ear. “I’ll tell you when we’re alone.”

  She would just have to be satisfied with that answer. They rode in silence for the remainder of the trip home. Lizzie had Paul let them out at the end of the driveway.

  Once they were standing alongside the buggy, Paul said, “Lizzie, I need you to bring me a half dozen of your watercolors. If you get them to me in the next few days, I can get them framed properly and hung on the walls.”

  Lizzie started to tell him that she’d changed her mind when he said, “You’ve got to trust me on this, Lizzie. All will be well. I’m sure of it.”

  Looking up at him sitting tall and oh so sure of himself on that buggy seat, it wasn’t lost on her how handsome a man he was. Lizzie’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t comment on what he’d said, only giving him a nod as they said their goodbyes.

  Paul had barely pulled away before Sadie started talking to Lizzie. Her hands moved about, the motions punctuating each word. She was talking so fast that Lizzie could hardly keep up with what she was saying.

  “There is something going on between you and Paul. And I think it’s high time you both admitted it!”

  She stared at her friend, frustration rolling through her. “We’ve had this conversation before. I told you we are just gut friends.”

  Sadie’s eyes narrowed, and her mouth puckered. Folding her arms in front of her, she appeared to be taking a stance. For the life of her, Lizzie didn’t know why Sadie had decided now was the time to discuss this matter.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Lizzie. His eyes get this serious look in them. And you might not realize this, but you also get a look on your face.”

  “I do not!”

  Sadie’s head bobbed up and down. “Ja. You do.”

  Curious, Lizzie asked, “How do I look?”

  “For one thing, you seem to blush a lot when you’re with Paul.”

  Lizzie looked away from Sadie, embarrassed that she couldn’t hide her feelings when she needed to the most.

  Continuing with her assessment, Sadie added, “Plus think about all the things he’s been doing for you that go above and beyond what all the other neighbors have done over the past few weeks.” Lowering her voice, she said, “And Paul is selling your art to help your family because he cares a great deal for you. It’s more than just friendship. And I’m thinking I might stand right here at the end of your driveway until you admit that what I’m saying is true.”

  Lizzie loved Sadie with all her heart, but right now she didn’t want to discuss this. There was still so much that needed to be done before the day ended. She stepped around her friend. She started down the drive, but then she paused to look over her shoulder at her dear Sadie, who stood there trying to look formidable and failing miserably.

  Lizzie gave her a lopsided smile, saying, “You can’t stay there. Besides, it’s time to start supper. Your mamm will be worried about you if you don’t return soon. And I have to get my cream puffs made.”

  With that she hurried off, but not before she heard Sadie grumbling about how right she was and how wrong Lizzie was. She felt sorry she couldn’t make her understand her feelings on this matter. Everyone knew that Paul Burkholder would make a fine husband. But not for Lizzie.

  If he decided on a courtship with another woman, she would lose the special friendship she’d always had with him. A lump formed in the back of her throat. What would she do then?

  As if to rid herself of this thought, she gave a quick shake of her head. She needed to concentrate on the here and now, and not think about what might lie in the future. Lizzie slowed her steps as she approached the front porch of her home. She heard the creak of the rocker. Pausing with one foot on the bottom step, she looked up to see her vader seated in his favorite spot.

  “Lizzie. What kept you so long? Your mamm and I were beginning to worry about you.” Her vader sat with his head resting against the back of the chair.

  “I’m sorry for being late. After we were finished at the grocery store, Sadie and I ran into Paul. He gave us a tour of his new store.”

  “This store of Paul’s, it is a big one?”

  “He took over the space that used to be a dress shop. The building is the one across the street from Decker’s store.”

  “Ja. I know which one you’re talking about.” He sat up taller in the rocker. “I understand Paul’s vader isn’t pleased with his son’s choice to open this store.”

  “Paul and his vader are working through this.”

  Her vader grunted his displeasure, saying, “Paul should abide by his vader’s wishes.”

  Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she avoided his gaze, instead concentrating on the way the breeze carried the sweet scent of honeysuckle through the air. Knowing better than to say anything further on the subject, Lizzie asked, “Is Mamm inside?”

  “Ja. She’s working in the kitchen. Lizzie, would you do me a favor and bring me out my Bible?”

  She pushed open the screen door, seeing her mother standing at the sink with a teakettle in one hand. She was looking out the window, her mouth tilted with a smile. Even on those hard days, her mamm always seemed to find something to smile about. She wondered what the cause of it was today.

  “I’ve been watching the wrens working on their nests out in the birdhouses.” She glanced at Lizzie and then, looking back out the window, quoted, “‘By them shall the fowls of the heaven have their habitation, which sing among the branches.’ Psalms 104:12. Come join me for a minute at the window.”

  “I have to fetch vader’s Bible.”

  “Do that and then come back.”

  Lizzie found the Bible on the stand next to her vader’s favorite living room chair. She grabbed it, took it out to him and then rejoined her mamm at the sink. Standing shoulder to shoulder with her, she saw the tiny lines surrounding her eyes and noticed the gray streaks running through her hair.

  “Look at that one!” Her mamm let out a laugh. “The little bird has been pecking and poking at the others the whole time I’ve been watching them.”

  Lizzie saw the bird dip down and seemingly shove the other bird off the ledge of the birdhouse. The white house had three stories to it and was attached to a high pole, so it stood well off the ground. The birds worked at a frantic pace, emptying the space of the old nest. Soon a new one would replace it. Then the birds would move in,
the mother bird would lay her eggs and in a few months’ time a new family would hatch. The tiny fledglings would then take flight, leaving the nest forever.

  She couldn’t imagine ever leaving her family behind.

  Her mamm turned to her and smiled. “Have you been having a gut day so far?”

  “Ja.”

  “I heard from your sister Mary today. She and Aaron will be here in time for Rachel’s wedding. She wanted to come sooner to visit, but two trips would be too much for them to make.”

  “They must be busy.”

  “Ja, Aaron is helping his family begin their harvest. It would be selfish to insist they come here now to visit your vader and then again for Rachel’s wedding.”

  “I understand,” Lizzie said, taking the baking powder out of her pocket. “I was going to make cream puffs for the workers, but I fear the day has gotten too late to start another baking project.”

  “You did all those loaves of bread. They’ll be happy with that, for sure and certain.”

  Lizzie went to the counter, where she’d left out the ingredients earlier, and put them back on their shelves in the pantry. Then she and her mamm began to make the evening meal. From the porch came the sound of the rocker creaking. She heard the soft turn of a Bible page, then the muffled sound of her vader’s voice in prayer.

  “Gott, I ask you for patience. Patience with my recovery from this illness that has taken over my body, patience for the harvest and patience for my daughter Elizabeth. Help her to see your way and the way that is best for this family. Amen.”

  Her mamm must have heard his words, too, because she turned to face Lizzie. She let out a long sigh.

  “Do you remember the nerves that Mary had right before her wedding?”

  Lizzie nodded.

  “But then she discovered how much she loved Aaron and how good her life with him could be. Lizzie, your daed, he only wants what’s best for you.”

  “His prayer said it all, Mamm. He wants what’s best for his family. I’m not sure he cares what my feelings on the matter of marriage are. I know that I’m supposed to follow his wishes, but...” She let out a frustrated sigh, thinking about how, with Paul’s urging, she’d committed to doing something to help her family. She just couldn’t discuss this with them yet.

  Absently she ran her fingertips over her scar. Thinking how her mamm had been the one to nurse her back to health. She’d been the one to sing softly to her at night as she had cried herself to sleep. Her mamm had been the one to clean her wounds, the one to hold her close and whisper comforting prayers. She’d understood Lizzie’s anguish then, just as she understood Lizzie’s uncertainty now. She realized now that she wanted to unburden herself. And she would have done so, but Lizzie knew it wasn’t right to expect her mamm to keep her plan from the rest of the family. Especially her vader.

  Lizzie vowed right then that if this venture became a financial success, she would tell them about it. But until that time, she knew it was better not to get anyone’s hopes up.

  Dropping her hands to her side, Lizzie said, “I have nothing to offer a mann.”

  Her mother reached out to her, tapping a finger lightly against Lizzie’s chest, over the spot where her heart lay.

  “You have everything a good mann would want, right here inside of you.”

  Perhaps it was the excitement of the day catching up with her, but suddenly Lizzie found herself wiping away tears. Taking her mamm’s hand in hers, she gave it a gentle squeeze, whispering, “Danke.”

  As they turned their attention to preparing and serving the evening meal, the day wound down and Lizzie was finally able to make an escape to her bedroom. Once there she shut the door and leaned her back against it, relishing the silence. Reaching down, she unlaced her black leather shoes, setting the pair right in front of her nightstand like she did every night. Then she slid off her dark stockings, enjoying the feel of the coolness of the evening air on her bare legs, and draped them across the bottom of her bed.

  Padding across the bare floor, she made her way to the dresser, knelt down and opened the bottom drawer. She pulled out the first five drawings and spread them around her, trying to decide if any of them were worthy to sell. She twisted her mouth, trying not to grimace at how bad these looked. After pushing them aside, she hauled out the entire drawer and placed it onto the floor. Swishing her hand through the mess of paper, she gazed at the array of colors and sketches. Why did this choice have to be so hard? she wondered.

  Finally she settled on six of her more recent works of the fields surrounding the Miller farm. The images were in various stages of the seasons. Her particular favorite was one of the field behind the barn. She remembered working on this during the early spring. The newly formed buds on the trees and the fresh green grass poking through the earth so recently ravaged by the winter’s cold had captured her attention. Looking at this watercolor, she found her spirit being filled with hope and warmth.

  The remaining watercolors depicted the field transforming from spring to summer, eventually ending with a winter scene. Lizzie remembered how hard this one had been to work on. She’d only used a few colors from her palette. Adding grays and deep blues to the white paper, creating a very chilly looking winter scene. She hoped Paul’s handiwork with the framing would add a touch of warmth to the starkness of this image.

  Gathering the watercolors, she stood up and walked back to the bed, where she laid them out. She took the canvas bag she’d taken on the picnic off the coat rack on the wall and then very carefully, so as not to wrinkle the paper, slid them one by one into the bag. A tingling feeling of excitement wound its way along her spine. Lizzie had no idea what kind of money she could get for these, but she knew even the tiniest bit could help. The sale of her eggs, baked and canned goods at her roadside stand did help, but this, well, this could be far greater than anything she could imagine. She could help her family by taking some of the financial burden off them. Maybe her vader would eventually understand that Lizzie didn’t need to take a husband in order to help run the farm the farm.

  “Ach!” She was getting ahead of herself. Bowing her head, she asked the Lord once again for guidance.

  “Dear Gott, thank You for giving me this talent. Help me to use it for good. Remind me that wealth in this world that has nothing to do with money. Thank You for looking over my family. Amen.”

  She raised her eyes to see the muted glow of the last of the setting sun reflected on the wall. She walked to the window and pulled aside the curtain so she could take in the full view of the final vestiges of the day fading to dusk. Her mind raced to memorize what lay before her. The colors in the sky meeting the horizon, melding together in beautiful reds and pinks. The barn in the foreground and the fencing surrounding the pasture all bathed in this stunning, soft, heavenly light. She heard the soft mooing of one of the cows and the rustle of hooves as the herd wandered over the pathway leading to the edge of the pasture.

  She knew then that she was using her talent in the way that Gott had intended. If only she felt confident that her parents would be as happy about her artistic talents as Paul was. Pushing those thoughts aside, Lizzie hurried to get her sketch pad. Once she had it in her hands, she raced back to the window, where she spent the next hour sketching the glory as dusk became twilight. The more she sketched, the deeper her inner peace became. Gone were her self-doubts, and in its place came the knowledge that she could create beautiful images that captured the farm life that she’d grown up with.

  The clock in the living room struck nine times. Lizzie looked up from the paper, surprised that so much time had passed. She started to flip the top of the sketch pad closed when her eyes caught sight of the barn and then the watercolor she’d started working on when she’d been with Paul. These two works had been giving her fits and starts since she’d first drawn them. The barn painting carried with it a lot of memories and pain, while the other remi
nded her of things she might never have in her life. Maybe one day soon she’d find the time to get back to finishing them.

  Putting her supplies away, she got ready for bed. There was another busy day ahead tomorrow. But long after she’d made herself comfortable under the blanket, her mind was still wandering, full of thoughts of the future. She knew one thing for sure and certain. Tomorrow she would go to Paul’s shop and leave him the watercolors she’d selected. No matter her doubts, Lizzie knew this was the only way she could help her family.

  Chapter Nine

  Paul stood inside the Burkholder Amish Furniture Store, watching the rain dripping from the awning hanging over the front window onto the sidewalk outside. What a dreary day, he thought, but a good day to putter around his shop. He’d finished making the small rocking chairs here and the larger pieces of furniture he was still making back at his vader’s shop. His bruders had come by late Friday to help him move the large wooden counter from the center of the room over to the side. He’d decided to use it as the cashier area. Not anticipating a lot of store traffic today, he’d decided to organize that space, in addition to rearranging the furniture displays.

  He’d been reading up on what attracted buyers. Even though, he suspected, most of them came inside simply because they saw the word Amish on the store sign, Paul wanted to continue to keep things fresh inside the store. Looking around, he felt such pride in all that he’d accomplished in the short time he’d been open. He turned his attention to the stack of mail next to the cash register and was thumbing through it when a car pulled up in front of the store.

  Recognizing the sedan, he went to the front door. He saw Helen Myers sitting behind the wheel of the car, and next to her in the passenger seat sat Lizzie. Helen leaned across the seat as Lizzie got out, giving him a big wave.

  “Hey, Paul. Congratulations on your new store. I’ll stop by when I’m not busy running errands.”

  Ducking under the overhang, he called out, “Danke, Helen.”

 

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