A Wedding Quilt for Ella (Little Valley 1)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Daniel stopped in his tracks, “Can’t we do anything more? I can’t let that horse die. Not after Aden’s passing.”

  “You two, come in and eat your breakfast,” Lydian said from the kitchen doorway.

  Albert nodded and got up. “I don’t think there’s much we can do. That horse has eaten a lot of grain, and it looks to me as if it got to the water trough earlier. Sometimes you can save ’em in time if you can keep ’em away from water.”

  “Shouldn’t we stay with the horse?” Daniel asked.

  “I think walkin’ it right now seems to make it worse,” his dad said. “This is a matter for the vet, I’m fearin’.”

  “There’s nothing you can do,” his mom said firmly this time. “No sense in starvin’ yourself about it either.”

  “I’m so sorry about this,” Daniel said, sitting down heavily at the kitchen table. “I should have been paying more attention last night. What with all the people around, I should have known this could happen. Any one of the little boys could have left the latch open.”

  “They should all know better,” his dad said, “but there are small ones who don’t. Now let us pray for the food.”

  In silence they bowed their heads and then ate slowly. How empty and heavy the still house was without Aden.

  “When do we decide what needs to be done with Aden’s things?” Daniel finally asked. “My signature’s on the checkbook. The bank told him it would be a good idea, and so he had me sign up for it.”

  “Is there a lot of money involved in this?” his dad asked.

  “I haven’t looked, but I think so.”

  “We shouldn’t talk about this so soon,” Lydian said quietly. “It’s not right. It isn’t. This was too sudden—all of this is. If there had been time, we could have talked with Aden. I don’t think any of us should go into his things for a while. Just leave the money alone, wherever it is. I’ll even be leavin’ his room as it is for a few months, other than pick up his dirty clothes. We’ll know when the time is right to do otherwise.”

  “Your mamm is wise,” Albert said, nodding. “Aden never told me what he would want done. How could he have? He had no thoughts of dying. Daniel, did he ever tell you anything?”

  Daniel shook his head.

  “Then we’ll have your mamm look through his desk upstairs—just to be sure. Sometimes people know and leave notes. Perhaps Da Hah lets them feel somethin’ ahead of time. If that was the case, Aden wouldn’t have wanted to say anything, but he could have left something, a little scribble perhaps. I once heard tell of a man who went grocery shoppin’ the night before his heart attack. His wife said he never shopped for her before. Yet that evenin’ he brought home bags of groceries and placed them all carefully in the cupboards before they went to bed. When she asked him what he was doin’, he only smiled and said he wanted to take care of her.”

  “I will check today, then,” Lydian said reluctantly, “but if I don’t find anything, we will leave his things be for a while.”

  “I’ll take the business on,” Daniel said. “I think I can do that. Maybe if I hire someone else on, we can manage. There should be plenty of boys available who would be willing to help.”

  “You can do this without Aden’s checkin’ account?” his dad asked. Daniel nodded.

  “Then we can decide a fair price later, when the rest of the matter is decided. Your mamm will know when the proper time comes.”

  Outside a truck pulled into the driveway. Both Daniel and his father set their forks down and moved toward the door. They walked outside together to greet the vet who was just climbing out of his truck.

  “Glad you could come out so soon,” Albert said, “especially since it’s a Sunday morning.”

  “Sounded serious,” the vet said, glancing toward the barn. “The horse still up and walking?”

  “Yah, at least it was thirty minutes ago.”

  “Got to some grain, then, you reckon?”

  “From the looks of the bag, yes.”

  “Water? Did it have time and access?”

  “All last night, I’m afraid. We didn’t find the horse till this morning.”

  “Then let’s take a look,” the vet said, grabbing his bag. Albert led him to the barn.

  Daniel swung the stall door open. Inside, Aden’s horse pawed the ground.

  “Not good. Not good at all,” the vet said and brushed past in haste. He dropped his bag within reach, ran his hand down the horse’s side, and then went to the head to open the eyelids. A soft groan was the only reaction he got from the horse.

  “Afraid we have a rupture already,” the vet said. “Sorry about that. Even if you’d called earlier, we might not have been able to save it. Tough when things like this happen. You want me to put it down? It might save it some suffering.”

  Watching the horse slowly lower itself to the ground, Albert said, “I don’t rightly know. It’s my son’s horse.”

  “That one?” the vet asked, motioning with his head toward Daniel.

  Albert shook his head.

  “You had a funeral out this way yesterday, I heard. Wouldn’t have been your son?”

  “Yah,” Albert said. “He passed away right suddenly.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve never lost a child myself. It must be an awful thing.”

  “You have children?” Albert asked him.

  “Three—two boys and a girl. Just young, all three of them.”

  “Only the Lord knows when their time will come,” Albert said. “Doesn’t make it any easier, but my son’s in His hands now. We had good hope for him.”

  The vet crossed himself reverently and glanced skyward. “The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. May he rest with God.”

  “The Lord’s will be done,” Albert said, his voice hesitant at this display of piety.

  “I’m Catholic,” the vet said. “Sorry again for your loss. I’m afraid it looks like his horse is gone too.”

  The vet knelt to lift the horse’s eyelid again. He felt for a heartbeat with his hand and shook his head.

  “It’s only a horse this mornin’,” Albert said. “My son was the great loss.”

  “You want me to call the truck…to pick it up?”

  Albert glanced at Daniel and then nodded. “That would be best. We really have no way of disposing of the body.”

  “Will someone be around all day?”

  “Yah, it’s our Sunday off.”

  “That’s what I thought since I didn’t pass any buggies on the road coming in. I’ll have the truck come out, then, and send the bill in the mail. Is that okay?”

  Both Daniel and Albert nodded.

  The vet picked his bag up, waved, and left.

  “You can pay the bill out of Aden’s checkin’ account,” Albert said when the vet’s truck had pulled out of the driveway. “Aden would want it so because it was his horse.”

  “I will do that,” Daniel agreed. “The checks are in his desk upstairs.”

  “I wouldn’t know, but you can be handling it next week. People ought to be arriving here soon.”

  “I think I’ll be going over to Arlene’s place,” Daniel said as they walked in to the house together.

  “Give us a few hours here—with your mamm and me,” his dad said with a weak smile, “and the rest of the family when they come. Arlene will still be there for you.”

  Daniel grinned and agreed with a nod. A few hours spent in the living room in conversation with his married siblings and their partners was not that unpleasant. Conversation with Arlene would have been better, but that would come later.

  Not long after, David and his wife, Saloma, arrived, and Daniel went outside to help unhitch. They had all six children in the surrey, and Saloma was expecting another child any week now. Daniel helped unfasten the tugs as Saloma climbed down, hanging on with both hands. She managed well despite her size.

  I wonder how it feels to have six children and another on the way? David seemed to enjoy them all, and Daniel imagi
ned he would too. Arlene will make a gut mamm, the way she carries a peaceful attitude around with her. Whatever children God sees fit to grace our home with, we will manage.

  The time would come soon when he would have to ask Arlene the question. She had been patient enough these last years, never acting like she was in a hurry, but with his twenty-first birthday coming in a few months, Arlene would start to wonder. She was only a few months younger than he was, and so there really was no reason their wedding date couldn’t be set.

  “What’s the vet doing out this way on a Sunday morning?” David asked. “Surely he didn’t have any business here, did he?”

  “Afraid so,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “We lost Aden’s horse. It foundered last night and ruptured this morning. It ate all night, I suppose. Someone must have left the stall unlatched yesterday. I feel bad about it. I guess I should have paid more attention yesterday.”

  “Hard day, yesterday was,” David said as he led his own horse forward. Daniel held the shafts up and then set them on the ground.

  The sound of buggy wheels rattling behind them announced the arrival of Myron Raber and Daniel’s sister, Susan. As they drove in the driveway Daniel went to help unhitch, and David took his horse into the barn.

  “Good mornin’,” Daniel greeted them. “Nice day even with the rain comin’.”

  “Yah,” Myron said as he got out of the buggy. He was a short-legged fellow with a beard that came down at least four buttons on his shirt. He was a nephew of Ivan Stutzman, a fact Daniel supposed couldn’t be held against him.

  The couple had three children now, all of them reflecting Susan’s good looks. Of all Daniel’s nieces and nephews, these were his favorites.

  “Are you okay?” he asked Susan as she came out of the buggy. Her hand reached back up to help her youngest down the step.

  “As good as I can be,” she said with a catch in her voice, “when we just buried our brother yesterday.”

  “Da Hah gives grace to His people,” Myron said, pronouncing the words in almost an exact imitation of Preacher Stutzman.

  Daniel wondered why Da Hah made certain people and then thought, Perhaps without them, there wouldn’t be as great a need for grace. “Yah, He does give grace,” he said, smiling to Susan. “David and Saloma are here already.”

  “I thought that was their buggy,” Susan said.

  Daniel held the shafts for Myron as he pulled his horse forward. He followed Myron out to the barn because there were no signs of any other buggies at the moment. David was already over at the stall, and Myron joined him when he had his horse tied. Daniel felt obliged to fill Myron in on the details about Aden’s horse.

  “Da Hah’s villa,” Myron said, all sober sounding. “No man can understand His ways.”

  That’s true, but why do the words need to be said? Daniel thought. It’s sort of like salt rubbed in a wound. Thankfully another buggy was arriving. Daniel turned to go, leaving Myron and David leaning against the stall rail as they talked.

  Outside his oldest brother Levi and his wife, Sarah, had arrived. Levi was already out of the buggy, and Sarah was halfway to the house. Daniel helped unhitch—the little that was left to do—and after that, another buggy came. More arrived until the brothers and sisters had all arrived and gathered in the living room.

  They were all married now except Daniel. With Aden gone Daniel felt it all the more—that comfortable, safe, cozy feeling of belonging; of fitting into a place you know is yours.

  Seventeen

  Daniel let his gaze rest on the family gathered in the living room. Moments earlier he had run upstairs to bring down more chairs for the children. Some of the older ones had become tired of the outdoors and sat around listening to the adults’ conversation.

  He placed himself toward the back, listening to the ebb and flow of the quiet chatter flow through the room. The younger children moved in and out. The girls played upstairs, and the boys carried on in the barn. When a storm threatened around eleven o’clock, Daniel checked for any open doors. In its brief downpour, all movement between the house and barn stopped until the rain moved on.

  Daniel watched an occasional tear slide down the face of his sisters or mom. His own face reflected the other menfolks’ stoic faces. Tears might come when he was alone but not in public. Daniel hadn’t seen his dad cry much since the afternoon when the news of Aden’s death arrived. He had wept then, but the storm seemed to have passed. He knew that in the years ahead, his father would bear his loss with a quiet dignity as befitting his age and the way of his people.

  Eventually, conversation stopped as Lydian stepped from the kitchen and into the living room and announced, “Lunch is ready.” Daniel glanced at the clock. It was already twelve o’clock. How quickly the time had passed.

  “Let us pray first,” Albert said. With all the voices hushed, he led out in prayer.

  Afterward, the family adjourned to the kitchen where Lydian served food from the counter. Each family member took a plate, got in line, and filled it before being seated again. Children sat on the floor, their plates between their feet. Daniel went through last, ate, and then excused himself.

  “Goin’ to see someone special?” David teased.

  Daniel just grinned and walked out the door. The rain had stopped, but a layer of fog drifted in piles along the river’s edge. There was no way the truck could have come yet for Aden’s horse, or he would have heard it. But Daniel knew his dad and brothers could handle the unpleasant chore without him.

  As he went to get his own horse, he averted his eyes from the stall where Aden’s horse had been. He tried to call his own horse from the back barn door, but when the horse didn’t come, he decided to try to lure it in rather than traipse through the muddy barnyard in pursuit. The horse was good on the road but just didn’t like to get started.

  With a few oats spread in the bottom of a bucket, Daniel rattled the contents at the barn door and got immediate results. He heard the high whinny of delight and soon saw a horse that couldn’t wait to get in the barn. He held the oats out of reach and led the horse inside. The horse then ate lustily while Daniel threw the harness on.

  When he came out of the barn, two of his nephews held up the shafts of the buggy for him. They then held on to the bridle—one on each side—as he climbed in.

  “Thanks,” he said as they stepped back. He let out the lines, took off, and waved.

  Once on the road, Daniel pulled the vinyl blanket out from under the seat and placed it across his lap. The air was chillier than he had thought. Winter was past already, but there was still an occasional nip in the air. Soon he would have to change to a wool blanket. If he didn’t, Arlene would surely suggest it in her calm manner. Not that she wasn’t nice about such subjects, but he just wanted to use the vinyl blanket longer than she did. He supposed differences like that were what marriage was about—two people with different tastes learning from each other.

  Did Aden and Ella ever have disagreements over winter and summer blankets? It’s hard to imagine them having such a conversation. They probably quoted that Emily poet to each other under whatever blanket they used.

  Why did God break up such a couple and leave Arlene and me, just an average couple, alone? It was a deep question, and Daniel squirmed on the buggy seat. It might be best to leave that one alone.

  “Dangerous, such thoughts are,” Preacher Stutzman would say. “And so is the man who thinks he can understand the mind of God. He is foolish and very unwise.”

  Daniel turned left at the next road and glanced at the river as he went by. Fog still hung in the valley, little curls of cloud swimming by his buggy wheels. It was a strange Sunday in ways he couldn’t put his finger on.

  A mile later he pulled into Arlene’s parents’ place on John Darling Road. He laughed. It was good to find some source of amusement today. The name had that effect on him. On the first night he had brought Arlene home, he had wondered whether he qualified as Arlene’s John Darling but hadn’t dared
ask her. That was a question Aden would have asked Ella with a mischievous chuckle in his voice. It was a question that Ella would have answered with a smile. The two couples were just different, and that was simply the way it was.

  He tied up by the barn because no one seemed to be around. The horse could wait here as well as be tied up inside the barn. There was a singing tonight in the neighboring district, and even with Aden’s death this week, he wanted to attend. A good youth song service might cheer up his spirits.

  As he finished securing the buggy, he heard the front door burst open behind him. Daniel turned, half expecting to see Arlene rush down the walks toward him. Not that she usually made such sudden appearances, but this had been a strange Sunday.

  Instead, Arlene’s two younger brothers approached at a run. Norman, the oldest, was in the lead, and the younger one, Mervin, was only a few steps behind.

  “Whoa,” Daniel said with a laugh as their youthful rush came to a halt in front of him, “what’s the big hurry?”

  “We saw somethin’!” Norman said with great soberness. “Three of them. We saw them all by ourselves.”

  “Yah,” Mervin said, and Norman nodded vigorously.

  “And what was that?” Daniel asked, thinking they had likely seen some boy thing, like a bull frog or praying mantis.

  “Angels!” Norman said. “We saw three of them in the sky, and then one flew away.”

  “One went zoom!” Mervin said, making a quick gesture with his hand toward the sky.

  “My, my!” Daniel said, smiling. “That must have been something. Where were these—you said angels?”

  “Up in the sky. Up in front of the great big black clouds, the ones that brung all the rain,” Norman said. “Mervin and I—we seen them.”

  “Well, shall we go inside and see if anyone else saw these angels?”

  “They didn’t,” Norman said. “Just Mervin and me.”

  Daniel started up the walk, expecting the boys to follow him. When they didn’t, he looked behind him.