The Love Letters

by Beverly Lewis

  Roman didn’t talk for long, but neither was he gazing at the hayfields. His eyes were on her, and when he reached for her hand, it took her breath away.

  “I’d like to think you’d take care of me thataway . . . like Abigail does Boston,” Roman said.

  “Jah.” Ellie nodded. “The Lord willing and we live that long.” Suddenly she wanted to wrap her arms around his suntanned neck. But goodness, they were out on the front porch, of all things, behaving like they were youngsters.

  “Ever think we’ll see Boston again?” Roman asked.

  “Hmm . . . I don’t know. But Jake surely would enjoy that.”

  “Jake’s goin’ to miss him.” Roman smiled. “We all will.”

  Ellie leaned back and sighed. “Ya know, that Abigail’s quite the letter writer.”

  Roman chuckled. “Where’d that come from?”

  “Let’s just say I learned a lot from hearin’ our son read to Boston.”

  “I daresay his comin’ was a wunnerbaar-gut thing.” Leaning over, Roman bussed her cheek. “And I’ve been thinkin’ . . .”

  A delightful shudder slipped down her back.

  Roman told her about a discussion he’d had with his brother Jake in the past few days. “He seems older and wiser, and he’s been kind enough to point out some of my ‘inconsistencies,’ as he puts it.” Roman turned to look at her. “So after thinkin’ some—and plenty of prayer—I’ve decided it makes no sense to allow an Englischer like Boston into our lives, and even treat him like family, while holdin’ your sister Orpha and her family at arm’s length.”

  Ellie blinked, looking at him. “What do ya mean?”

  “Well, just because we don’t have full fellowship and agreement with certain surrounding church districts doesn’t mean we can’t be friendly and hospitable to one another.”

  Had Roman’s brother planted all this in her husband’s thinking? Ellie found it remarkable and somewhat hard to take in, considering how adamant Roman had been about keeping to themselves.

  “And those sewing classes of yours . . . They brought ya such joy . . . and to your students, too. I saw the young women talkin’ and smiling as they came and went.” Roman wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I’ve thought it through, love. I want ya to feel free to be the teacher you are, Ellie. Won’t ya start up those classes again?”

  “Are ya certain ’bout this?” she asked, wanting to give him an out if he was looking for one. She didn’t want to contact the girls again only to have Roman pull the rug out from under them.

  “Never more so,” he said.

  Ellie smiled through her tears and couldn’t hold back any longer. Inching forward, she kissed him sweetly right then. He drew her even closer and kissed her back, and my, oh my, if anyone had happened along the road just then, Ellie wouldn’t have been the wiser.

  To Marlena it was a miracle that she didn’t break down or disclose her deep disappointment over Nat to her grandmother as the days passed.

  Their big garden burst forth an abundant yield, and Marlena poured herself into the harvesting, canning, and freezing of produce, ever grateful, like Mammi, for God’s outpouring of provision and love. At each meal, they gave thanks for the summer showers and the sunshine, and then again, during family worship, when Mammi read the Bible aloud to her and little Angela Rose. Dawdi Tim had always said, “It doesn’t matter what a farmer believes or where he goes to church. Truth is, he’s dependent upon the Lord of the harvest for plentiful sunshine and the necessary rainfall.”

  For seven Wednesdays, Sarah Mast came to help Marlena stitch up the crazy quilt for Angela Rose. They had discussed various designs for the stitching on the backing, including the most popular—stars, baskets, impatiens flowers, and hearts—but Marlena had quickly decided on heart-shaped quilting. The love I’ve gained from opening my heart to Angela Rose—and the Lord God—more than compensates for my breakup with Nat. For surely his ongoing silence means we’re through. . . .

  While Marlena’s pent-up tears sometimes threatened during the day, she saved them for after she’d put Angela to bed. With God’s help, she coped, did her chores, and took good care of her little niece, knowing that she was doing exactly what He expected of her.

  By mid-August, her mother’s frequent letters were a reminder that Marlena’s return home was forthcoming. In a short time, they would give back Ellie’s loaned baby items. Marlena also began to recognize that her first thoughts each morning were no longer of Nat Zimmerman and what she’d lost.

  I’ve forgiven him, she thought, realizing she hadn’t yet mentioned the breakup to anyone, not wanting people to feel sorry for the loss of a beau who’d turned out to have priorities so unlike her own.

  With the potato harvest fast approaching, Marlena decided to thoroughly clean Mammi’s house—an early fall housecleaning. She washed everything from the top down like she and Mamma always did before hosting Preaching, back when they attended their former church. And while she beat her grandmother’s rag rugs and swept and dusted, Marlena couldn’t get the local New Order group out of her mind, still recalling the Scriptures the minister had read and referenced. And their exceptional friendliness. Because of that, she looked forward at summer’s end to returning to Mifflinburg to a similar type of preaching at her parents’ new place of worship. I won’t be joining my childhood church with Nat, she knew for sure.

  She understood now that she’d primarily looked forward to joining the old church for Nat’s sake. Just so we could marry.

  But now there was oh, so much more to her decision. Things had come to a head this summer with Mammi, and Marlena had realized she needed a faith that fed her soul . . . and traditions that helped answer the cry of her heart.

  Whenever Marlena glanced at the crazy quilt hanging over the crib railing, she felt pleased. It contained something of both Luella and herself, two sisters at odds but linked by one darling baby girl. She was also struck again by the blended motifs of the Plain and the fancy. And she couldn’t have completed it in less than two months if Sarah Mast hadn’t helped.

  Someday, Angela Rose will know that I used her Mamma’s dress scraps.

  And secretly, Marlena hoped that the extra time Gordon’s parents had requested might just extend into a lifetime.

  Chapter 38

  A week before Marlena planned to leave Brownstown for home, the phone rang. Patricia Munroe was on the line. “Your mother felt strongly that I should be the one to contact you, Marlena,” she told her. “I have some wonderful news.”

  Marlena listened, wondering what on earth.

  “My nephew’s alive! Gordon was wounded but escaped and was rescued. He’s well enough to fly back to the States.”

  “Oh, what a blessing for your family!” Then, realizing what this meant for Angela Rose, Marlena began to tremble.

  “Gordon will come for Angela Rose, of course. I’ll contact you soon to let you know when he’ll be there.”

  “I’ll have Angela ready.” Marlena could scarcely get the words out.

  “We are incredibly grateful to you, and to your grandmother, Marlena. I know Gordon is thankful, too. You’ve been very generous with your time.”

  “Well, it’s been a joy to care for her.”

  Thankfully, Patricia didn’t linger and said good-bye, then hung up.

  Every sorrow of the past months encompassed Marlena, and she slumped down into the chair at the foot of Mammi’s kitchen table, unable to quell her tears.

  Patricia called again that afternoon to tell when Gordon would be coming. And afterward, Mammi gently insisted that Marlena must not try to be strong and carry around such heartache alone. “Trust our dear Lord Jesus for the peace to bring this to pass with a gentle spirit, my dear. It could be a testimony to Gordon,” Mammi reminded her.

  “Jah,” Marlena said, praying that her heart would come to match her grandmother’s wisdom.

  Sarah Mast dropped by hours later with a hot noodle and turkey casserole she’d promised. When Marlena
accompanied her back outside to the waiting horse and buggy, she found Luke sitting high in his courting carriage, holding the reins.

  “You have been so helpful to me this summer,” Marlena offered, smiling. “Denki ever so much for the dinner, Sarah. And I appreciate your listenin’ ear, too—both of yous.”

  Luke grinned suddenly and quickly looked his sister’s way, waiting till she was seated to glance back at Marlena. “We’ll miss seein’ ya round here, Marlena,” he said, his tone earnest.

  “Jah, do come back and see us anytime,” Sarah said, lifting her hand to wave.

  “Oh, I wish you lived closer,” Marlena said, meaning it for Sarah, but Luke chuckled, and she felt her face go rosy.

  Sarah gave her brother a playful prod. “Can we keep in touch?” she asked Marlena.

  “I’ll write ya, for sure,” Marlena replied, glad at the prospect.

  Luke, still smiling, gave her a slow nod, then backed up the horse.

  Standing there, she really wanted to call to them—to spend more time. How very dear they’d become to her. A brother and sister in the family of God!

  When she’d watched them head all the way out to the road with more cheerful waves, Marlena returned to the house, where she set to packing some of Angela’s things, including bibs and sleeping gowns and handmade booties. She left out the clothes the baby had already outgrown. So many in the space of less than three months. Last of all, Marlena carefully folded and wrapped up the crazy quilt, memorizing the random pattern of the pieces from Luella’s former dresses.

  I pray Angela will cherish this special quilt for always.

  The front doorbell rang on the designated Friday afternoon prior to Labor Day weekend. Gordon stood on the porch, his face solemn, wearing tan walking shorts—his left leg bandaged heavily at the knee and a large gash in his forehead. He looked different from when she’d first met him following his marriage to Luella. Marlena couldn’t help but think of Luella and how glad she would have been to see her young husband back from the war. “Won’t ya come in?” Marlena welcomed him into the front room.

  Angela was crawling this way, and when she looked up, she rolled up to a sitting position and began to cry. She whimpered through her tears, making babbling sounds that sounded a little like “Maw-ma.” Then, crawling quickly to Marlena, she puckered up her face and raised her little arms to be picked up.

  “Wow . . . she’s that big already?” Gordon said.

  Marlena reached down for Angela Rose, knowing this would be her last chance to hold her. “Your daddy’s here to see ya, sweetie. See?” She tried to turn her around to look.

  But Angela clung all the more, pressing her chubby face into Marlena’s neck and sniffling.

  “She’s a shy one sometimes,” Marlena explained. “In a little bit, she’ll warm up to ya, though.”

  “Maybe it’s the bandages,” Gordon said thoughtfully. “And she’s never seen me before, since I had to leave before she was even born.” He kept his distance, as though hesitant to intrude farther into the room. Tall with deep dimples on either side of his smile, he was very good-looking, and Marlena understood why Luella had been attracted to him.

  “Have a seat, if you’d like to stay awhile,” she offered.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the car in the driveway. “My parents are waiting, so I’ll have to take a rain check, if that’s okay.”

  “Would they like to come in, too?” Marlena said, aware that Angela Rose was quivering against her. Does she sense what’s coming?

  “Thanks, you’re very kind,” he said but declined. “If you’re ready, I’ll start carrying things out to load up the trunk.”

  She said she was and watched with apprehension as Gordon reached for the diaper bag and the suitcase Aunt Becky had brought. Marlena hadn’t bothered to pack the little dresses or the Amish bonnet. Angela won’t need them now. She thought again of the pretty crib quilt and her own initials embroidered into the right-hand border, MAW, for Marlena Ann Wenger.

  While she awaited the inevitable moment, with Angela Rose still snuggled against her, she pleaded with God to help her not cry when the time came. It might make the parting harder for the little one.

  Mammi wandered into the front room just then, and her red eyes proved that she, too, was heavyhearted.

  “Does it seem like we’re handin’ her over to the world?” Marlena had to know.

  “We’ll keep her in our daily prayers,” Mammi whispered, patting Angela Rose softly. “Oh, little honey-girl, I pray the dear Lord Jesus will go with you all the days of your life. And may you surrender your life to Him at an early age.”

  “I prayed that, too,” Marlena said and walked to the window to let Angela see the car and her father opening the trunk. “You’re goin’ home with your daddy, my little angel.”

  When Gordon came again to the front door, Angela began to cry all the harder.

  “I wasn’t expecting her to respond like this.” He tilted his head to smile at her and touched her little back. Then he asked, “Is there anything I can do to repay you, Marlena? I don’t know how my parents or I would have managed without your willingness to help.”

  Marlena glanced at her grandmother. “We love your little daughter dearly. You don’t owe us anything. Really, it’s been a joy and an honor to have her for these few months.” She bit her lip as tears came. “Ach, it’s hard to say good-bye to her. It truly is.” She leaned her head against Angela’s, then kissed her. “Ich liebe dich, mei Bobbli. I will miss ya for always.”

  Angela Rose looked up and patted Marlena’s face, still whimpering, then pressed her button nose against Marlena’s.

  “It’s obvious the two of you are very attached to each other. I’ll do my best to let you know how she’s doing from time to time.” Then he added that he wanted to make it possible for Angela to see Marlena and the rest of Luella’s family every so often.

  “Oh, if you would, we’d all love that. I know I can speak for my parents and siblings, too.”

  Mammi nodded her head and dabbed a hankie at her eyes.

  “Well, I’d better not prolong this. Thank you again.” He reached for Angela Rose, who tensed up. Her cries escalated to heartbreaking sobs.

  “The dear Lord be with ya,” Marlena said, watching him head out the door and across the front lawn toward the car. She couldn’t bear to stand there any longer. It felt like her heart was being taken away.

  But Mammi bravely stayed put at the window, telling her later that Gordon had given his howling baby to his mother in the backseat before driving quickly down the road.

  Late that afternoon, Ellie walked barefoot to the mailbox and found a letter addressed to Mr. Jake Bitner: AKA, Small Jay. She smiled, noticing the Arlington, Virginia, return address, and hurried out to the stable, where Roman was showing Small Jay how to curry their largest road horse, rubbing the brush in deep circles into the muscular part of his body, away from his frame.

  “Lookee what came in the mail.” She held the letter high.

  Small Jay stretched up to reach it. “Must be from Boston and his perty wife.”

  “Must be.” Ellie grinned as he opened the envelope.

  “It’s a card. And it says, ‘You saved the day.’ ”

  Roman stopped what he was doing and leaned over to look. “Ya know, son, I believe they’re right.”

  Small Jay read the rest of the card aloud, including the personal note at the bottom. “I think it’s from Abigail,” he said. “Listen to this. ‘Boston’s doctors are trying a new therapy, and he’s written another song, which is just as outstanding as his others. On the days Boston’s memory is fairly clear, he fondly recalls his time with you and your family, and even makes me smile with talk of a cat named Sassafras—“like the tea,” he says. We very much would enjoy hearing from you, Jake. Your friend, Abigail (for Boston Calvert).’ ”

  Ellie smiled. “A very nice note.”

  “I oughta tell Sassy ’bout this,” Small Jay said. “If only Bosto
n had kept the envelopes with his love letters, ain’t so?”

  “Well, but then we might not have gotten so well acquainted,” Roman wisely observed.

  “True.” Small Jay stuffed the card into his pants pocket and picked up the mane comb, returning to the driving horse.

  Ellie appreciated that Abigail had sent such a considerate card. “Lord bless her for that,” she whispered as she made her way back to the house. Halfway there, she noticed a big black cat sitting in front of the outhouse, looking pleased as pie. “Shredder’s back? Oh, wait’ll Roman hears this!”

  Chapter 39

  Oh, Mammi, that was just awful,” Marlena said once she’d pulled herself together after Gordon left with Angela Rose.

  Her grandmother cut a sliver of honeydew melon for her, fresh from the garden. “You were just wonderful to Gordon, dear. The Lord was with ya, I know.” Mammi opened her arms to Marlena. “Never forget you did a very gut thing for your sister’s wee babe this summer. Luella couldn’t have asked for more.”

  How can I dismiss what I felt the Lord wanted me to do?

  Mammi tilted her head and smiled thoughtfully. “There is no sorrow bigger than the grace of God.” She carried a large basket of dozens of cucumbers out to the back porch to peel. “Take your time eatin’ the melon, Marlena.”

  Marlena pondered Gordon Munroe’s visit and all that had just taken place. When she finished eating, she opened the utensil drawer and found a paring knife and went to help Mammi with the chore. “After this, do ya mind if I take a walk? Will you be all right here alone, Mammi?”

  “Well now, I’ll have to be.” Mammi glanced up at her. “You’ll be leavin’ for home soon, honey-girl.”

  “I could stay longer if you’d like.”

  “But would ya want to?” Hope sprang into Mammi’s eyes.