A Wedding Quilt for Ella (Little Valley 1)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Ella regained some of her composure. “Nurses are friendly because they’re supposed to be. That’s part of taking care of you. That’s all.”

  “Like I said, maybe or maybe not.” Eli finished the last bite of his sandwich. “I just wanted at least one person to know about this, and I knew I could trust you.”

  “Well, all I can say is don’t be heartbroken when she doesn’t come,” Ella said. “Just thank the good Lord you have a decent home to return to, a nice family to take care of you, and a church that watches for your soul.”

  “I am thankful,” he said, weariness in his voice and sleepiness in his eyes.

  She left him alone. Surely a few days of rest and good food would restore him. What imagination he had and what nerve to invite a nurse home for a visit.

  “Is he okay?” Mamm asked.

  “I think so,” Ella said, trying to smile. “He ate his sandwich, and he’s tryin’ to sleep now.”

  Her mom nodded and looked relieved.

  Twenty-seven

  Supper was over, darkness had fallen, and the gas lantern now hissed above the kitchen table.

  “It’s time for evening prayers,” Daett said, “and we will have them in Eli’s bedroom.”

  Chairs scraped on the hardwood floors as they got up and gathered around Eli’s bed. Mamm and Dora brought in chairs so they could kneel.

  “Our great God in heaven,” Daett prayed, kneeling now, “You who see all things and order the affairs of men, we thank You for Your mercy to us and that Eli has been spared. We ask that You would continue to protect us from evil, from sin, and from the world. Have mercy upon us weak and frail human beings made from the mere dust of the earth. You know that we blow over like the grass in the fields at the faintest brush of Your hand. Remember us, we pray, that we perish not from the face of the earth. Do not forget us in Your great anger. And we give You thanks for the blood of Your Son, Jesus Christ, who washes away our sins. Amen.”

  Afterward, Eli had tears in his eyes as he whispered, “I’m in pain.”

  “Da Hah will take you through this,” Daett said. “He has spared you, and He will allow your body to be healin’ again.”

  “If it be His will,” Mamm added with a note of caution, “but we are hoping it is.”

  Eli nodded and then asked, “Isn’t it time for my pill again? Then I’ll see if I can sleep for the night.”

  Dora brought him the bottle of prescription pills that Mamm had bought in town. With the kerosene lamp turned low, they left him alone. Mamm would check on him throughout the night.

  Ella went up the stairs quietly and settled slowly on the bed. Eli’s information about the nurse troubled her. Eli could not allow himself to get entangled with an Englisha girl.

  She jumped up at the sound of a buggy pulling into the driveway. What would someone want this late at night? It could mean only one thing—there was trouble somewhere. Ella opened the door into the hallway.

  Dora already had her head out of her bedroom door. “Did someone just drive in?”

  “Yah. You goin’ down?”

  “You think it’s trouble?”

  “I hope not,” Ella said. Yet a caller at this hour must surely mean trouble somewhere.

  “Maybe someone wants to borrow from Daett,” Dora offered.

  “This time of the night? I’m goin’ down,” Ella said, her foot finding the first step in the dark, her bedroom door shut behind her.

  “I’ve heard enough of dark troubles to last me a good long time,” Dora said. “Tell me if it’s really bad. Otherwise I’m going to sleep.” Dora’s door clicked shut behind her.

  Mamm was at the front door when she got downstairs, the guest bedroom door shut.

  “Who is it?” Ella whispered.

  “Looks like Uncle Mose’s buggy. I can’t tell for sure, but Daett’s already outside.”

  Ella stood beside her mom as they opened the front door and listened to the rise and fall of male voices beside the buggy. She couldn’t make out what they said, and the tone gave no clue either. There was no laughter or mirth, but that didn’t narrow things down much. Mose could simply be interested in Eli’s condition. Why hadn’t she thought of this before?

  “Eli’s just home,” she whispered. “Mose is askin’ about him.”

  “I thought of that,” Mamm said, “but why isn’t he comin’ inside?”

  “Maybe because it’s so late.”

  “Here Daett comes now.” Mamm stepped onto the porch as the buggy left.

  Daett approached in the darkness, his form barely visible. When he stepped into the faint light from the living room window, Ella saw his face outlined with concern. Surely the news was not good.

  “There was an accident just now out on the state road,” Daett said, his voice troubled. “Mose’s boy and the girl he was with were on their way home from Randolph. A car came across the road from the other way and didn’t see their dark buggy, I guess.”

  “Are they okay?” Mamm asked.

  “David is. Mose said he went along to the hospital, but his girlfriend’s hurt. He just came from telling her parents. I suppose they’ll go down tonight, yet.”

  “Ach,” Mamm said, holding the door open for Noah, “is this never going to stop?”

  “It does seem we’ve had a lot lately,” Daett said. “Da Hah’s hand is heavy on us, but He knows what He’s doin’. Mose said they would let us know of anything new.”

  “Who’s David dating?” Ella asked, unable to remember seeing him with anyone on a regular basis. She knew her cousin fairly well, even though he lived two districts over.

  “Menno Beachy’s daughter,” her mom said, “Melissa. She’s nineteen or so.”

  “How badly was she hurt?” Ella asked. Surely this would not be another parting of a couple like Aden and she had been through. David and Melissa were younger, but the pain would be just as real.

  “Mose didn’t know,” her dad said. “The ambulance took her to Tri-County.”

  “You mustn’t worry,” Mamm said, taking Ella’s arm. “There’s nothing you can do anyway, and we must leave these things in Da Hah’s hand.”

  “What if she dies?” Ella whispered.

  “Then they will bear the burden as you have borne it,” her mom said. “Now, let’s see how Eli’s doing. Remember, we still have our own to take care of.”

  Mamm opened the bedroom door, and Ella followed her in. The kerosene lamp threw low shadows on the wall. Eli’s face looked almost white, scaring Ella and causing Mamm to run her hand across his forehead.

  “He’s got a fever,” Mamm whispered. “Low grade, I think, but he’s got to be watched.”

  Ella nodded. She had expected something like this since Eli told his tale of the nurse. Her brother had, no doubt, been affected by the fever when he spoke such nonsense.

  “I can take a turn now,” Ella said.

  “Later. I’ll watch for a bit. Dora can take her turn first. Tell her to be expectin’ it soon.”

  “Okay,” Ella said, giving in and leaving her mom seated by Eli’s bedside. Thankfully Eli, at least, seemed peacefully asleep. If he tossed and turned, it could mean even greater danger. She took the stairs slowly, their squeaking loud in the darkness. The world was a dreary and uncertain place. Now, another accident had happened in such a short time. Was this the dreaded series of three? And yet Da Hah was in charge, as her dad said. He would do what was best for them in His great wisdom.

  Dora came to the door of her room at Ella’s first knock as if she had still been awake.

  “What was it?” she whispered.

  “An accident with David and his girlfriend. They were on the way back from Randolph.”

  “What were they doing out on a night like this?”

  “I don’t know. Expect they had business in town.”

  “It’s the third accident now,” Dora said, stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind her. “Someone will die this time. It might even be Eli since he’s still not over
everything, I can tell you that.”

  “You shouldn’t talk like that,” Ella said. But then she admitted the truth. “I did think the same thing, though, but we shouldn’t plan for the worst.”

  “I’m tryin’ not to, but I just do. It’s the way I think, is all.”

  “Mamm said you are up next to watch Eli. She wanted me to tell you.”

  “So he is worse?”

  Ella nodded in the dimly lit hallway.

  “And you want me to…not think the worst?”

  “Really, Mamm says it’s just a low-grade fever,” Ella said, mustering confidence.

  “I’ll be ready, then,” Dora said, her voice resigned. “It’ll be a long night, I can tell already.”

  Ella found her way down the hall, and in the darkness of her room, she reached for a match to light the kerosene lamp. At the last moment, she decided not to write in her journal. It was late enough already. The time it took to write her thoughts would be better spent in sleep.

  Sometime later, she faintly heard footsteps in the hallway but didn’t wake fully until Dora shook her shoulder.

  “It’s your turn now,” Dora’s voice whispered in the darkness. “Wake Mamm in three hours or so. I’ll be takin’ another turn after that.”

  With Dora’s faint outline in the doorway, Ella got out of bed and found her way downstairs. The stillness of the house was almost complete. Eli’s breath in the guest bedroom came even enough, and his face now looked normal from what she could see.

  He surprised her when he whispered, “I could use some water.”

  Ella glanced at the dresser but saw no glass there.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, finding her way out to the kitchen. The heavy darkness of the night bothered her for the first time as she groped for the water bucket. It would help if at least a few stars were out. On impulse she walked over to the kitchen window and looked out. The skies were blanketed in thick clouds. No rain, but the weather looked like a downpour was possible at any moment.

  Ella went back to the bedroom, the cup in her hand, and Eli struggled to prop himself up on two pillows. He finally just sat up completely, reached for the glass, and drank the water in great swallows.

  “Best be careful,” she whispered.

  “I know. That did hurt, but I was thirsty.”

  “Are you feelin’ better now?”

  “Yah, I think so,” he said, handing her the glass. “Has someone been in here all night?”

  “Yah, Mamm and Dora. It’s my first turn now.”

  “I’m not a bobli, really.”

  “You ran a slight fever this evening, and Mamm thought someone should stay with you—in case you got worse.”

  He lay back in the bed with a sigh.

  “You should try to sleep.”

  “Suppose so,” he said but sat up slightly again, resting his head against the headboard.

  Ella sat down in the rocking chair in the corner as a wave of sleepiness swept over her. She could see it would be hard to stay awake, and because Eli obviously felt better, the temptation would be even greater. Ready to yield, Eli’s voice reached her through the haze.

  “So you think an Englisha girl is out of the question?”

  She awoke with a start. “You mean the nurse?”

  “Yah. You didn’t take what I said earlier seriously, I could tell.”

  “There’s nothing to take seriously, Eli,” she said. “I thought your words were spoken through your fever. It’s the only way it made sense to me. You can have nothin’ to do with an Englisha girl.”

  “So you wouldn’t even consider it? Ever? Even for yourself?” Eli lowered his head back to the pillows.

  “Eli,” she said, scolding now, “I just lost my beloved Aden, and I don’t want anyone else.”

  “Do you believe that there’s only one person in the world for us?” he asked, his face barely visible in the light from the kerosene lamp. Crazy shadows played on the walls. “Does love really only happen one time?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about. Don’t you think you should get some sleep? What if Mamm and Daett heard you talk like this? These are awful thoughts to be thinkin’, yah?”

  “Of a gut love?” He laughed softly.

  “Of an Englisha girl. You know what I mean.”

  “I think she’d come join us—the Amish—if she loved me.” Eli raised his head to look at her. “I really think that.”

  “This has nothin’ to do with love,” she said, her voice firm. “We live in different worlds. How can there be love across such a ditch, and a really big ditch? I mean, Eli, for once think about this. You’re a boy, and a nice one. I thought girls were the only ones who lost their heads over love.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” he said, sighing, “yet it does almost seem possible. You’ll see when she comes.”

  “Eli,” she said, “you keep sayin’ that. But this Englisha girl can’t come into our house. You know that. Not in the way you say.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice sad, “I’ve already told her that. If she comes, she will be careful. She will be comin’ as a nurse to see how I’m doing. Mamm won’t know any more—that is if you don’t tell her, Ella.”

  She brushed her hand across his forehead, and he smiled faintly.

  “Your fever seems to have gone down,” she said, taking her seat on the rocker again. Soon his even breathing told her he was asleep. Surely, he isn’t as serious about the Englisha girl as he sounds. Should I tell Mamm and Daett about this?

  She rocked slowly and awoke when her mom’s hand rested on her shoulder at the first gray hint of dawn.

  Twenty-eight

  The rainless clouds still had not cleared as Ella headed to the bedroom with Eli’s breakfast.

  “I want to sit with the rest of the family…at the table,” he said, swinging his legs onto the floor.

  “Mamm,” Ella hollered. This was beyond her jurisdiction. “Eli wants to come to the table.”

  “Hush,” he whispered, trying to stand, but she held her ground. He was stubborn, and so could she be.

  “You’re not coming out yet,” Mamm said from the kitchen. When she arrived, she gently pushed him back onto the bed.

  “I think you’d best listen to Mamm,” Ella said.

  He knew she was referring to more than just breakfast, and he rolled his eyes at her. Then he gave up his protest and accepted the tray of food. What a strange sight he made, her big brother in bed and so helpless.

  They were in the middle of breakfast when a buggy turned into the driveway. Daett stood up, his eggs and toast uneaten, and went to greet whoever had arrived. An uneasy silence settled on the rest and stayed until his return. Ella knew by his face that the news wasn’t good.

  “David’s girlfriend passed away last night…on the operating table…at Tri-County.”

  “The second one. There it is,” Dora muttered, her face dark.

  Mamm shook her head and made a motion toward the three younger sisters. Dora seemed to comprehend and said no more.

  “The funeral’s tomorrow,” Daett said quietly. “The viewing’s tonight at Menno Beachy’s place.”

  Ella felt the wound inside her rip open again. Mamm noticed and gently touched her arm. The tears threatened, but Ella held them back by thinking of the plans that needed to be made.

  “I’ll stay with Eli tonight,” Ella said quietly, hoping the offer would be accepted without much fuss.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Clara said. “I want to stay with Ella if she stays.”

  “You will go with us,” Mamm said.

  “Why can’t I stay too?” Clara asked.

  “Because Ella has her reasons. You don’t,” Mamm said.

  Ella breathed a sigh of relief. It was gut that her mom grasped her feelings.

  “I don’t like funerals,” Clara insisted.

  “No one does,” Daett said, “but it’s Da Hah’s way, and He knows what’s best, and so we’d best learn to l
ive with it.”

  “I’ll never learn to live with funerals,” Clara said.

  “I suppose none of us really do,” Mamm agreed. “Now get ready for school because you can’t be going late even on a morning like this.”

  Clara left thirty minutes later, her light raincoat draped over her head. Dora and Ella finished the kitchen. The heavy clouds dropped a light mist of rain, showing no intentions of quitting. They couldn’t work in the garden or do the wash. Ella knew there were pies to prepare for the weekend. The food could also be served at the funeral tomorrow. They would need to take something over for the family.

  “How about some extra pies?” Ella suggested in mid thought. “If we start now, I can make enough for both us and the funeral tomorrow.”

  “I can handle that,” Dora said. “You can do something else.”

  “Are you sure?” Ella asked. “You don’t need any help?”

  “Nee. Dark days like this give me strength.”

  “You always were a strange one, that’s for sure.”

  “People come in all the colors, I suppose. The world needs someone like me,” Dora said, her voice now cheerful.

  “Yah,” Ella agreed. “Then I’m going to work on my quilt. Is that okay, Mamm?”

  “Yah,” her mom answered from the living room. “I’ve got mending to do, but take one of the little girls with you just to keep her busy.”

  “Must I?” Ella replied. Then it dawned on her that perhaps her mom had only been teasing. She walked to the living room door just to be certain.

  “Were you serious?”

  “Nee, I just wanted you to feel what it’s like to be the Mamm for a while,” her mother said.

  “I don’t want to quilt anyway,” Ruth said from the couch. “I want to go to school.”

  “You will next year,” Mamm assured her. “You will quilt sometime too. All my girls will learn because we can’t marry you off if you don’t know how to quilt.”