Ella Finds Love Again (Little Valley 3)

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Ella Finds Love Again (Little Valley 3) Page 11

by Jerry S. Eicher


  Ella finished first and emptied her bucket slowly, watching the milk swirl around the container. Her hands ached a little. She was out of practice, but that would change when she married Ivan. Even if a bobli should soon be on the way, she would have time to help with the chores for many months.

  She glanced toward Ivan, feeling the red coming up her neck again. What if he had heard her thoughts about a bobli? She really should not think such things yet.

  “He won’t make it,” she said, and started laughing at the look on Ivan’s face when he whirled around to face her.

  “Whose making what?”

  “The bishop,” she said. “He’s just tryin’ to make trouble. It won’t work.”

  Ivan smiled gently. “I’m grateful for your support, but my heart may not be as pure as you think. Bishop Miller is a wise man. Now I have to get these milk cans out to the water cooler, and if you would let the cows loose, that’s all the help I need. I’m sure Susanna can use your help in the house.”

  Ella nodded. Ivan seemed more like himself now, so perhaps with a gut supper he would recover fully. The man disappeared down the hallway and out a door while she loosened the stanchions around the cows’ necks. They bumped around, got themselves tangled up in each other in their haste, but eventually formed a single-file line and moved out to the field behind the barn.

  Ella tightened her coat and plunged into the night and back to the house. The air had gotten colder but was still bearable. Under her boots the snow crunched. The winter had been hard already. Hopefully the weather would eventually break. If not, they would just have to endure.

  She left her coat and boots in the cold washroom. Someone had lit a kerosene lamp, but the water bowl was frozen. She broke the ice, tossing it outside. She opened the kitchen door, went inside, grabbed the tea kettle, and refilled the wash basin, leaving the door cracked open to allow some of the kitchen warmth to seep out as she washed.

  “All done?” Susanna asked when she came back inside.

  “Ivan’s putting the milk in the cooler and should be right in.”

  “The girls are with Daett.” Susanna motioned toward the living room.

  “Can you use some help in here?”

  “Nee, I’m almost done.”

  “Then I’ll see what the girls are doing,” Ella said, walking into the living room.

  Mary and Sarah were gathered around the old man’s rocker. He was at the end of a story, his voice husky. Their faces turned up toward him.

  “Then your grossmamm said we should let her in the house for just a few days. I didn’t know about the plan, but your daett agreed for once. I thought he wouldn’t, since he hardly ever gave in to his sister’s wishes. So they kind of ran over me on that choice, even if I had wanted to say no. They got to stay—all of them—until the mother cat was well again.”

  Mary’s eyes shone. “They took care of them in the house when the mother cat broke her foot.”

  “She had kittens,” the old man said, smiling warmly. “We never allowed cats in the house, but it was wintertime, really cold that year, about as bad as this one. So I gave in on that one, and Grossmamm had her way.”

  “Can we have kittens in the house?” Mary asked.

  “Yah, I want them too,” Sarah echoed.

  “Under no condition,” Ella said. “Cats belong in the barn.”

  “Then in the barn?” Mary asked, pleading. “You have a barn.”

  “No,” Ella said. “My barn isn’t set up for cats. You need milk cows for cats.”

  “I don’t know about that,” the old man said, laughing.

  “Why aren’t there any cats in your barn?” she asked Ivan’s father.

  “They all seemed to have left,” he said. “They were her cats…Lois’s.”

  “They just left after she died? But old barns always have cats.”

  The old man nodded. “I know. But the ones Lois had are gone, and no others have come to take their place.”

  “Well,” Ella said, “it’s time for supper. Susanna has everything ready. By the time we’re ready, Ivan should be in.”

  She helped the old man up from his chair and held on to his arm as the girls skipped ahead and took their chairs. Ella helped Ivan’s father into his chair and returned for the baby, sliding her into her high chair.

  “I want our barn to have a cat,” Mary said, returning to the subject.

  “Perhaps we can get one for your barn,” Ella said, patting her arm.

  “I wouldn’t,” the old man said, shaking his head. “Not yet at least. It will just run away and break the girls’ hearts. Once you come to live here, Ella, then perhaps a cat might stay.”

  Just then the outside washroom door slammed shut, announcing Ivan’s arrival.

  “Are we ready for supper then?” Ella asked.

  “My stomach’s right hungry,” the old man hollered toward the washroom. “Hurry up there, son.”

  “I’m coming!” Ivan called. He pushed the door open moments later. He took his seat at the head of the table, bowed his head, and led out in prayer, his voice strong.

  Has something happened to strengthen him? Ella wondered. Have, perhaps, my presence and words made a difference?

  “Amen,” Ivan said.

  Everyone looked up, and Susanna started the casserole around. The old man took his helping first and then Ivan did. Ella helped the girls with their plates.

  “Have you got that colt settled down, son?” the old man asked.

  “Not yet. I think he needs more work. But it’s hard in the wintertime. Spring can’t come soon enough for me. I don’t know what’s wrong with the colt. I thought I had him well broken last fall.”

  “They’re all like that,” the old man said. “Young horses always have minds of their own, and it takes a while for them to settle down.”

  “This one’s a little wild,” Ivan said. “I had high hopes for him. I can’t really afford another horse if he goes bad. You don’t get much for an unruly horse at the auctions.”

  “Yah,” the old man nodded. “I know. Farm life’s hard, and it has always been hard.”

  The table got quiet as everyone focused on the delicious food. Soon everyone had eaten their fill.

  “Would you like some pie?” Ella asked Ivan’s father.

  “I might,” he said. “I think there’s still room. And I must say you cook gut food.”

  “It’s nothing special—just food,” Ella said. “But I’m glad you like it.”

  “Susanna also cooks gut food,” he said. “When she has time.”

  “Hey, Daett!” Susanna objected. “You make it sound like I’m starving you.”

  “I know,” he said. “I was trying to tease, but I guess I’m getting too old for even that.”

  They ate pie in silence, the moments slipping by like water in a slow-but-steady brook. When they were finished, Ivan said, “Let’s pray.” He bowed his head in silence. When they were done, the girls helped with the dishes, and Ella prepared to leave for home. She gave each of the girls a kiss, and then Ivan walked her out to her buggy. He untied her horse as she climbed in. He let go of the bridle and came up to the buggy door. Ella gripped the reins as Moonbeam pulled on the bit.

  “Goodnight,” Ivan said, his hand on the side of the buggy door.

  “Goodnight,” she said. “I wish there were more I could do for you.”

  “You’re doing plenty, and don’t worry about this problem with the bishop. I’ll have it worked out soon.”

  “I can’t help but be worried. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Will this issue with the bishop give you doubts about what your answer will be?”

  “Nee. I still want it to be yes,” she said, the horse jerking on the lines in her hands.

  “That is gut,” he said. “And thanks again for supper.”

  “Goodnight,” she said, letting the horse go.

  Moonbeam dashed forward, nearly throwing Ivan into a snowbank. She looked back and saw him standin
g, waving toward her, as she managed to make the turn at the main road without flipping the buggy over.

  Seventeen

  The night air had turned icy, and Ella pulled the winter blanket up as far as it would go. With a single hand she held the reins, the other clutched the blanket. In the dim buggy lights, the horse’s breath blew in great blasts as he climbed the hill toward Chapman Road. The night mirrored her emotions—cold, unsettled, frozen.

  Making the turn into her drive, she slapped the reins once when the horse slowed down. She saw lights shining brightly in the living room of the white house. Joe and Ronda must still be up, she decided.

  Moonbeam walked slowly up the driveway, pulling up as close to the barn as he could get. Ella waited for a moment. Perhaps Ronda would send Joe out to help unhitch. The front door remained closed.

  She finally climbed down, the buggy lights still on, the tugs feeling like icebergs under her fingers. Carefully she pulled them off and dropped the shafts gently onto the snowy drive. Opening the barn door and going inside, the light from the buggy reached far enough for her to see. She took the harness off Moonbeam, hung it up on the wall, and led her horse into his stall. His manger contained enough hay, so she exited and pulled the stall door shut with a solid click. He was safe inside for the night. She decided he didn’t need any oats tonight.

  Ella took the basement steps sideways, thankful for the light glowing through the living room window. A faint warmth from the stove greeted her as she entered through the basement door. The fire had not gone completely out. She lit a kerosene lamp, removed her coat, and stirred the coals. Fresh wood brought the flame to life. Ella held her hands over the kitchen stove and rubbed them briskly together. She thought back on the night…the words spoken, the stirrings of emotion she’d felt.

  They would make it—she and Ivan. Bishop Miller would soon give up his attempts to break them up. Robert was likely gone by now, back to Maryland to be with his mother.

  Ella took a deep, cleansing breath as she enjoyed the heat from the stove.

  She’d help Ivan through his church troubles—whatever they were. At least no one would ever know that the Englisha man—Robert—had moved her heart.

  She pulled the curtain back from the bedroom so the warmth from the stove would move through, undressed, and climbed wearily into bed. Sleep came quickly enough, and she dreamed of wide open spaces where flowers swept across fields as far as her eye could see. The beauty took her breath away, and she stood transfixed.

  Off in the distance someone came toward her, walking slowly at first. Then she could see him running. Who is it? Caught up in the wonder, Ella ran toward him. Is it Aden? Her heart pounded until it hurt, and her breath came in gasps.

  When his face came close enough to see, she saw it was Ivan. She slowed to a walk. He waved and continued to run. In her exhaustion, she waved back, hoping he didn’t notice her disappointment. Then she heard a voice calling his name. Is it my voice? Ivan also heard, but he looked skyward. When she followed his gaze, light had broken from the sky, and a figure was forming—a woman, her arms outstretched.

  Ivan answered with upraised arms, with more joy on his face than she’d ever seen. His name was called—distinctly pronounced—and Ella realized it was not her voice. Lois was calling to Ivan. Time seemed to stand still around them, the figure hanging in the sky, the light shining, and Ivan’s face lifted toward the heavens until her own name was called. Quietly the sound came at first, growing louder and louder.

  With a start Ella awoke, trembling.

  “Ella! Ella! Can you hear me? Ronda needs you. She’s in a bad way.”

  Joe’s voice came clearly from the kitchen area, apparently as near as he would approach.

  “Yah!” she called, still shaking. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Sorry to bother you,” Joe shouted. “I brought the lamp with me, and you can bring it with you. Ronda’s in our bedroom. Hurry!”

  Ella heard his footsteps retreating. She dressed in haste. What could be Ronda’s trouble at this hour? Everything had seemed fine when she’d arrived home.

  With her slippers on, she grabbed the lamp Joe left and raced up the basement steps two at a time. Her dream lingered in the back of her mind, taking more of her breath away than the climb upstairs.

  She had no reason to be jealous of Lois. Ivan had loved Lois, and she had wished Ivan were Aden. What difference was there between them? None.

  Ella rushed into the living room and headed for the open bedroom door.

  “Ach…” Ronda said, her face white. “Ella, I need help.”

  Joe sat on the other side of the bed, and Ronda motioned with her hand for him to leave.

  “What’s wrong?” Ella asked when he had closed the door behind him.

  “I think I’ve lost the baby. I’m sure I have,” Ronda whispered, tears in her eyes. “The bleedin’ won’t stop. I don’t know what to do, Ella.”

  “I don’t know either,” Ella said. “I’ve never dealt with something like this before. Is it very bad?”

  What had she heard about such cases? What did the midwives do when a woman miscarried? “When did it start?” Ella asked. “And how much blood is there?”

  “There’s a lot,” Ronda whispered. “The sheets are soaked. I lost the baby before you came back from Ivan’s, but I thought that’s all there was to it. I haven’t told Joe.”

  Ella lifted the blanket, took one look, turned quickly away, and called for Joe.

  When he opened the door with a jerk, Ella said, “We have to get Ronda to the clinic right now. Ronda, you’re going to have to be brave. Joe, you’ll have to drive us in the wagon.”

  Joe looked bewildered. “What’s happened?”

  Ella lifted the blanket again. “She lost the baby, Joe. I’m so sorry. And she’s bleeding a lot.”

  “It’s after midnight, and the wind has picked up. Perhaps I should ride for the midwife. I’m sure my horse can make that trip, but I’m not so sure about the wagon. My horse is half lame, and Daett won’t have the gut one back until tomorrow.”

  “Joe, there’s no time to get the midwife. We have to take the chance on getting Ronda to the clinic. We’ll use my horse.”

  Joe nodded and disappeared, the swift sound of running work shoes on the hardwood floor echoing in the house.

  Ella ran her hand over Ronda’s forehead, now beaded with sweat. “I’m sorry we have to take you out into this weather.”

  “I know. I’ll bear up,” Ronda said through her tears.

  “Let’s get you ready then. You’ll need all the clothes you can get on to stay warm.”

  “I’ll never get the blood out of these sheets,” Ronda said, trying to get up.

  “Don’t worry about the blood,” Ella said. “Think about Joe, about hanging on. Can you do that? Joe needs you.”

  “I’ll try,” Ronda said. “But our bobli is gone.”

  Ella couldn’t think of words to say. Quickly she took a white sheet and wrapped Ronda’s lower body as tightly as she could. She found socks in the dresser, pulled them on Ronda’s feet and then added another pair on top of that. Ronda’s thick Sunday coat came out of the closet, and a quick race to the front door produced Ronda’s rough, everyday coat.

  “I’ll not be able to move,” Ronda whispered.

  “You’re not supposed to,” Ella said. “We’ll carry you.”

  Ella laid three blankets on the bed, and paused to think. “I’ll be right back,” she said. She raced downstairs with the kerosene lamp to grab the coats and boots she wanted. Joe was already in the bedroom when she came back up, and she noticed he left heavy snow tracks across the floor.

  “I’ll take her feet,” she said as Joe carefully lifted Ronda by the shoulders.

  “Hang on, sweetheart!”

  They moved through the bedroom door. Joe had tears in his eyes, understanding the seriousness of the moment. As they hurried out the front door, Ella cautioned, “Don’t run, Joe. I’ll slip and fall.”

/>   Carefully they slid Ronda headfirst onto the bed of the open spring wagon, Ella pushed two blankets under her, and laid the rest on top. Joe was already on the seat. Ella climbed up, holding a blanket in front of them as a windbreak. Joe clucked to Moonbeam, and the wagon headed toward the main road.

  How Joe survived in the open spring wagon without freezing seemed like a miracle to Ella. The icy wind cut through them like a newly sharpened knife. For her part, she finally lay on top of Ronda, a blanket wrapped over both of them, her open coat tucked down the sides. She needed to keep Ronda warm. She began to pray. Da Hah must help them. Joe drove down the snowy roads like a mad man, and Ella’s heart swelled with pride for her horse. He must have known a life depended on him because his pace never slackened.

  For a moment, Ella wondered if this was how Ivan had driven that summer night with Lois in the back of the wagon. He had permitted no one to ride with them, she’d heard, in order to lighten the load, but even that hadn’t been enough to save his wife.

  Finally Ella saw the lights of the clinic ahead. She thanked God that Ronda still breathed steadily under her.

  Joe drove as close to the front door as he could and then leaped over the wagon wheel. He ran through the door of the clinic to get help. Moments later a nurse appeared, followed by two men who quickly transferred Ronda to a gurney and wheeled her away.

  When they were gone, Ella allowed the tears to come. She could cry now that her duty had been done and the matter was out of her hands. After a few minutes, she walked over to her horse, his breath still coming in great heaving gasps, foam from sweating bubbling over his chest strap. Grabbing a blanket from the back of the wagon, she rubbed him down slowly.

  Soon there was a flurry of activity behind her. A parked ambulance turned on its lights. Joe came over to Ella and said that Ronda was being taken to the hospital. The doctor at the clinic had stabilized her for the trip as much as possible. Joe quickly turned and made his way to the ambulance Ronda had been placed in. He climbed in. Ella went to a white clad nurse who had accompanied Ronda to the ambulance and was about to return through the clinic door.

 

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