A Wedding Quilt for Ella (Little Valley 1)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Ella considered this, but as she sliced the celery for the evening soup, she figured it out. Glancing at the clock, she decided she had time and went directly to the bedroom.

  “I know what you’re up to,” she declared. “It’s your first chance to be usin’ the pay phone. You plan to call that girl.”

  “Shhh.” he whispered, his face giving him away.

  “Why are you doin’ this to us, Eli? I thought you might give up the idea.”

  “I can’t.” He hung his head. “I can’t get Pam out of my mind. It’s love—I know it. It’s the kind you and Aden had.”

  The look on his face touched her, and she softened.

  “Please! Don’t tell Mamm and Daett,” he pleaded.

  “I’ll not betray my convictions,” Ella declared.

  “I’m not askin’ that,” he said, and then with a grin, he added, “I’m not askin’ you to date an Englisha man.”

  “Don’t be jokin’ about this, Eli. It’s serious.”

  “Yah.” He sobered up. “It is serious. I don’t want to miss my chance at love, a love that will last a lifetime.”

  “I don’t think you’ll find it with an Englisha woman.” Ella sighed and then felt the bitterness rise again. “I found love, and then Da Hah took it away.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said and reached out to touch her hand. “I wish there was somethin’ I could do.”

  “There is nothing.” She turned her head away. “I can’t go around blaming Da Hah for it. I know that. I just never thought it would be this hard.”

  “I’ll never understand how you do that…or show such kindness to me—most sisters wouldn’t understand their brothers like this, especially if they sneak around and see Englisha girls.”

  “You’re wrong about that, Eli. I don’t understand you,” she said. “I don’t think I ever will.”

  “But you are patient,” he said, his voice low. “Ella, do you really think I’m wrong to love someone like Pam?”

  She wavered as she faced that question and the pleading look in Eli’s eyes. Ella felt the worlds collide inside of her. She had no answer, and its absence frightened her.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she asked, her face a contortion of conflicts. “I suddenly don’t know.”

  “Dear God,” he whispered. “You really don’t know. Then I’m right!”

  Ella caught herself, but the damage had been done. “Of course it’s wrong. It can’t be right.”

  “There was a part of me that hoped you’d know for sure,” Eli said, ‘but you don’t, and now I know I have to call her. I have to find out for myself. Ella, I don’t want to lose what I have. I love our family. I was never plannin’ to leave the Amish. And I hope it never happens. It’s like you said—I’m not wild as some are. I’m easy. And yet I find a happiness in Pam’s eyes that’s unlike any I’ve experienced with our own girls. I can’t turn back now, Ella. Not till I know for sure. Can you be understands’ that?”

  “No, I don’t think I can,” Ella said, “but I guess you’ll have to find your own way through this. I just hope you don’t do the wrong thing.”

  “Thanks.” Eli squeezed her hand.

  “My supper,” Ella gasped and raced for the kitchen.

  When Mamm and Dora came in from the barn, she was late with the mashed potatoes. Her mom looked at her strangely. “Is something wrong? You’re never late like this.”

  “I was talking to Eli,” she said, managing a smile, “and time got away from me.”

  Mamm went toward the bedroom and quietly asked Eli something Ella couldn’t hear. Apparently the answer was satisfactory because nothing more was said about the uncharacteristically late supper.

  They had just had prayer when a buggy pulled in and tied up at the hitching post by the barn.

  “He must plan to stay,” Noah said dryly. “I wonder who it is.”

  “Not more bad news surely,” Mamm said, getting to her feet.

  “It’s the third death. I know it is,” Dora spoke up, her voice mournful. “At least this awful dreading will be over, then.”

  “Would you quit this moanin’ and carryin’ on?” Mamm said as she headed for the front door.

  They all heard the front door open and then shut as if whoever it was wished to speak outside on the porch. Long minutes went by, no one speaking, just waiting.

  “No one has died,” Clara said. “If it was that, Mamm would already be back in by now.”

  “You can never be certain,” Dora said. “She might be in tears, depending on who it is. It would take time to recover.”

  “No one has died,” Noah said firmly. “Da Hah is a merciful God, and He does not give us more than we can be handlin’.”

  The sound of the basement door swinging open beneath them reached the kitchen table. Dora looked at Ella with the strangest expression on her face but said nothing. Moments passed with the sound of faint noises in the basement. First they listened to the murmur of voices, and then they heard their mom’s footsteps on the stairs. She opened the door and joined them at the table again, all without a word. Her face bore no hint of expression.

  “Well…who was it?” Daett asked. “And why did you take him to the basement?”

  “Shhh, not so loud,” Mamm said. “I’ll talk to you after we finish supper.”

  “So no one has died,” Dora asked as if she were disappointed. “This thing just goes on and on.”

  “I told you to stop that,” Mamm told her.

  Dora apparently hadn’t run out of ideas. “It’s Deacon Shetler come callin’. Monroe must have done somethin’, and he’s waitin’ in the basement for him. Eli couldn’t have done anything because he’s laid up, and it’s not Saturday night so it must be something awful to be in this big of hurry.”

  From how white Monroe’s face turned, Ella considered Dora’s guess might have hit the bull’s-eye.

  “So what did you do?” Ella asked.

  “I didn’t do anything,” he said.

  Ella thought his face was still white, but a weariness came over her at the thought that another of her brothers was up to no gut. “Can’t boys ever behave themselves?” she asked.

  Monroe’s mouth was open, but Mamm spoke first, “It’s not the deacon.”

  There was silence for a few minutes, and then Dora asked the obvious, “So what was Monroe so scared about?”

  “He did look kind of startled,” Noah agreed. “Perhaps he’d better tell us. Why were you afraid of a visit from the deacon?”

  Monroe shook his head but offered nothing.

  “You’d best tell us,” Ella told him in her lecture tone.

  “I think you should tell us,” Daett said.

  “Here?” Monroe croaked.

  Daett nodded. “We should always be sure our sins come out. It might be time to practice now. It might keep you from committing these wrongs in the future.”

  Horrible confessions flashed in Ella’s mind—visits by girlfriend nurses, secret phone calls to Englisha girls, and scandal and disgrace. All would be horrible things to spill into her three little sisters’ ears. “Don’t be sayin’ it here,” she blurted out.

  “You know what this is about?” Daett asked, his spoon now set on the table, concern on his face.

  “Oh, no,” Ella gasped, “of course not.”

  “She doesn’t,” Monroe spoke up in her defense. “It just happened a few days ago while Ella was at home. I’m sure no one else heard about it. Deacon would be first to know, and he’d come to me—not spread it around. That’s why I thought he was here.”

  “So why don’t you tell us,” Mamm said, “this thing you did, which the deacon but not your parents knows about.”

  Monroe took a deep breath. “It’s really nothin’ much. We took off from town the other day when Daett sent me in for a part at the hardware. Roman, the deacon’s son, was there ahead of me in his buggy when we left town. Well, on that straight stretch of road when no car was coming, I tried to pass him. I don’t how it ha
ppened, but I got into his wheel spokes. When I turned too sharply, I caught just the edge of my wheel. It knocked out three of Roman’s spokes and marked the rest up a bit.”

  “Do you know how dangerous that was?” Mamm said. “You could both have been hurt badly.”

  “Not to mention damage to the buggies,” Daett added, “and the horses. What if traffic had been heavy? Two Amish boys racing down the state road would have caused quite a scandal!”

  “I thought of all that…afterward,” Monroe said, hanging his head. “Roman said he would try to fix the buggy down at the blacksmith shop with his own money, and I’d pay half too. We thought we could straighten things out that way.”

  “Things will be straightened out when you boys stop actin’ like that,” Daett said. “We’ll talk about this later, and I think you should pay all of the damages.”

  “Yah, Daett.” Monroe nodded. His relief at apparently getting off easy showed on his face.

  “Now who’s downstairs in the basement?” Daett asked.

  Mamm got up from her chair. “I think you and I are needin’ a talk—in the bedroom.”

  Daett glanced up at Mamm, stood, and followed her without a word.

  Thirty-two

  “What was that all about?” Dora asked when their parents had disappeared in the direction of the bedroom.

  “I’m sure glad it wasn’t about my sins,” Monroe said with a sigh of relief.

  Ella felt a great fear creep over her. She put a hand to her head as the plates on the table went around and around in little circles in front of her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Dora’s voice reached her faintly through the fog.

  Ella had no idea what she said, if anything.

  “She’s knows who’s down there,” Dora whispered to Monroe. “Who in the world could it be?”

  “I don’t know,” Ella croaked in protest and then cleared her voice. “I really don’t.”

  “Then why are you acting so strangely?” Dora asked.

  Ella didn’t answer. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Dora and Monroe look at each other.

  “What are Mamm and Daett doin’?” Clara asked, entering the exchange.

  “They’re talking about something,” Ella said. If the topic was what she suspected, then Clara would be the last person who needed to know. Her world had already been upset enough by recent events.

  Mamm appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Ella,” she said, “come in for a minute.”

  Ella felt the fear return as she slowly rose and walked toward the bedroom. She felt Dora and Monroe watching her all the way to the doorway.

  Ella didn’t dare ask her mother what she feared. She just meekly followed. There seemed nothing else to do. Her mom held the bedroom door open and shut it behind her. Even then her parents still spoke in whispers.

  “It’s Wayne Miller,” her mom said, “young Bishop Miller, and he’s come to ask for your hand in marriage.”

  Ella gasped and then shook her head silently. She knew who Bishop Miller was, and it was out of the question. But Daett slowly raised his hand to stop her protestation. “I can understand how you must feel, but you must not be hasty. I know little time has passed since Aden’s death, yet you must consider what a privilege this is. Never has this been offered to any of our women before. He’s just a young man who’s never dated much. He’s a good farmer and a brilliant thinker. Many say he knows half the Anabaptist stories in the Martyrs Mirror by memory, never married, and yet ordained a full minister at age twenty-five. Such opportunities don’t just happen to anyone, Ella. Wayne Miller is quite an exceptional man.”

  “I can’t,” Ella choked.

  “But think,” her dad said, his eyes pleading with her, “what an honor this is. Word has it that he has never seriously considered any of our girls to be the right one for him. He is a man uncommon amongst our people. For the girl who is asked to be his wife, I can’t imagine any greater hopes one could have.”

  “But I loved Aden,” she said, trying again, “and I don’t want to be marryin’ anyone.”

  “I understand that,” her mom spoke up. “It’s a little early for you, and we know that. It’s why we’re tryin’ to help out. Ach, why didn’t the man know to wait a while yet if he’s supposed to be so smart?”

  “Sometimes men are clumsy in the ways of the heart,” Daett mumbled.

  “You can say that again,” her mom said and then lowered her voice. “It’s just that you shouldn’t be hasty, Ella. Tell him you need some time to think about this—maybe six months. He’ll understand that. He’s a gut man. You don’t want to make a quick decision right now, especially while you’re still grieving like you are. Don’t go making a choice you might be regrettin’ years later. Really, Ella, you have to think about this. You can’t run away from men forever.”

  When Ella remained silent, her mother began again.

  “Some girls could possibly just shut themselves away like you have the last few weeks and never move on with their lives. We understand how you feel, Ella, but you can’t shut out life forever. Da Hah took Aden away from you for reasons we don’t understand, but we must accept His will. You can’t stay single, Ella. You simply can’t.”

  No, they don’t understand. Not really. Ella’s heart was numb with how alone this conversation made her feel. I’m all alone against the world—even my own family does not stand with me.

  Her mother spoke again, “You’ll never get a better offer than Bishop Miller. You really won’t, Ella. Your daett and I are here to tell you what must be very hard for you to hear.”

  Ella swallowed hard. Her worst nightmare had not just come as a dream but was playing out right before her eyes. What am I to do? Give in to my parents…and Bishop Miller? Forget Aden forever? She knew she couldn’t blame her parents for being concerned about her welfare. She couldn’t stay shut up forever, and she couldn’t keep saying no forever. Her honor, her faith, and her love for her parents demanded it. Every exit where she cast her eyes for escape was shut off. Only her will and determination stood in the way, but would it be enough?

  “I will speak with him then,” she relented, her voice a bare whisper.

  “I’m so sorry for you.” Her mom wrapped her in her arms. When she let go, Ella saw tears in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have chosen this path for you in a thousand years, I wouldn’t have. Yet Da Hah has seen fit to have you walk it. Why? I don’t know. It must be because you are so loved. You are a wonderful girl, Ella. You’ll be a great woman of our people. I know Aden was the best for you. Bishop Miller is perhaps Da Hah’s answer to your loneliness.”

  “I’m not promisin’ to marry him,” Ella whispered.

  “No,” her mom replied as she shook her head, “just tell him you need time. Just time, and Da Hah will do the rest.”

  Ella found the doorknob of the bedroom, the steel cold to the touch. With great effort, she forced her feet to move toward the front door. She still had enough presence of mind to avoid the kitchen—and Dora and Monroe’s questioning eyes. Better to go around to the outside basement door.

  Each step felt like a descent into destruction. The familiar concrete took on sinister forms, and the hardness under her shoes sent shocks upward through her entire body. She pulled her head covering forward and tightened the strings before she opened the basement door.

  Her eyes searched for a form in the flickering display of light and shadows from the kerosene lamp. Bishop Wayne Miller had already risen from the chair beside her quilt. He stood, motioned with his hand toward a chair beside him, and nodded in greeting.

  “Gut evening,” he said. “Da Hah has given us beautiful weather. I hope I haven’t disturbed your supper.”

  Ella shook her head while her feet somehow found the energy to move forward. She wondered where the bishop had found the other chair. For some reason she couldn’t remember it having been there the last time she quilted. But then, perhaps Clara had brought the chair down. She sat down only inches from the bishop�
�s knees and noticed that her hands were trembling.

  He cleared his throat and began speaking. “I wish to express my deepest sympathies for your loss…first of all. I didn’t come to the funeral because I expected the gathering to be quite large, and Aden wasn’t from my district. Yet I knew of Aden. He was a man of firm faith, a man who loved his heritage and would have been an asset to any of our districts. I regret I never got to know him better.”

  Ella kept her eyes on the floor. She had seen what she wanted to see for the moment. The bishop had come in his Sunday best, which meant he took this seriously. His voice was gentle enough, soft almost, and not unpleasant.

  He seems sincere, and he certainly is handsome. She could tell that even in the low light of the kerosene lamp. His young face, weathered by outdoor work, is framed by his lengthy, well-kept beard. He does not have a pound of fat on his tall frame. I understand why people are in awe of the man. His presence quite fills this room. These thoughts all seemed like terrible things to think and made her feel awful disloyal to Aden. Yet the thoughts came unbidden.

  “I suppose you’re wonderin’ why I’ve come so soon after the tragedy. And I know it is soon. I told your mamm so. Yet I have searched my heart, and I could not wait. Da Hah moves in mysterious ways, Ella, in ways we cannot understand sometimes. I do not wish you to think of me as untoward or out of order. With this thought in mind, I won’t pressure you or rush you, but I do want to make my interest known, yah, my interest in your future attention. It is my hope that, perhaps with time, you might become my wife. I know this must come as a great shock since you hardly know me. I can understand that, and I can have patience. It’s just that I wanted to approach you before it’s too late. I never could forgive myself, Ella, if I failed to speak with you and some other man expressed his interest first. I hope you understand that. I say that not to disrespect you or your love for Aden—I know it must have been great—yet Da Hah is the one who works the hearts. He can turn them in any direction He wishes.”

  Ella could barely listen. She wanted nothing more than to be upstairs sitting at the table with Dora, Monroe, and Clara. Still, the bishop went on.