Herman’s face twitched, and he leaped down from the corn binder. “Here! Can you men take care of the team?”
“Jah, of course.” Mervin didn’t hesitate. Herman had already set out across the field at a steady run. Peter climbed up on the seat of the corn binder and secured a firm grip on the reins.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Mervin asked him.
Peter hesitated. “Willis fell in,” he finally said. “They think he was waving at Mary and not paying attention. He’s dead.”
“Willis?” Mervin gripped the edge of the wagon with both hands.
“Jah, Willis,” Peter said.
Mervin shook his head. His ears buzzed, and he heard thunder in the distance instead of words. He shook his head again. “We had best go up, then,” he said.
“You don’t really want to see it,” Peter intoned. “He fell in the blades. There’s only…”
“Did Mary see him?” Mervin asked.
Peter nodded, and a siren wailed in the direction of Whitehorse. Mervin made sure the reins were secure before he unhitched the four-horse team from the corn binder. Peter came down from the seat to help with hands that trembled.
“Can you drive them up?” Mervin asked when they finished.
Peter nodded and clutched the reins. Mervin watched him go, the young man’s feet almost lifted off the ground at times. Mervin hesitated. He didn’t want to return to the silo-filling area. He didn’t want to think about what this meant for his future, but it couldn’t be avoided. Mary was a widow, and Mattie and he had their wedding date set. His face was grim as Mervin climbed back on his wagon.
Chapter 7
On the morning after Thanksgiving, Mattie sat beside Mary with her arm around her cousin’s slender shoulders. The casket that contained the body of Willis was set up on a plywood platform in front of them. Mary’s mamm, Lois, was on the other side of Mary, with family members seated on either side of them. Mattie normally wouldn’t have been by Mary’s side for the funeral, but Mary had requested her presence.
Mary’s shoulders shook as the line of ministers filed in to begin the service. Bishop Martin took his place at the head of the bench with a bowed head and deep pain written on his face.
Tears trickled down Mattie’s cheeks. How any of them had any tears left was beyond her. There had been little but tears since Monday and the horrible accident. The casket would be closed today, so awful had been the damage to Willis’s body, and Mary had been there to see it all. Mattie’s arm twitched at the thought.
She could not imagine the horror Mary must have felt. One moment Mary had been lost in rapture, waving to her husband perched high above her on the wagon of corn sheaves. With her other hand, Mary had held the glass of lemonade she had anticipated Willis would soon drink. Then death had come. Awful and sudden, an evil that stole away the wunderbaar love the Lord had given Willis and Mary. The whole community had been in shock, and the English authorities suspicious.
“Was there a feud among the three men on the wagon?” the chief of police asked Willis’s daed, Herman.
“Of course not!” Herman had declared. “Our men live in peace with each other.”
“This was a young married couple, right?” the chief of police continued undeterred. “Any jilted rivals on that wagon?”
That had led to many more unspeakable questions. When Ezra Miller, one of the unmarried men on the wagon, who had made a desperate dive after Willis when the fall began, admitted that he had once taken Mary home for a few dates, the questions had become worse. Willis should have been buried on Wednesday in peace. Instead, the district had spent Thanksgiving Day in prayer and fasting for the situation. It was the awful European war that had everyone on edge, but the thought was a small comfort. Thankfully, the English authorities had backed down, influenced no doubt by the district’s intercession before the throne of the Lord.
Mattie hadn’t spoken with Mervin since the Sunday evening before the accident. She shouldn’t think of herself on the day of Willis’s funeral, but she couldn’t help it. Would Mervin still marry her? Their wedding date was the second week of December, not many days away. Willis and Mary had been their example. The two were why Mervin had found faith and accepted the risk, but now Willis was dead.
Mattie choked back a sob as Bishop Martin rose to his feet and began to speak. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today with hearts broken and torn. We have searched our hearts for answers, but answers are not often found when the Lord chooses to move with His hand in these ways. There are times when the Lord covers His face with a deep cloud, as He did with Moses and as He did in the whirlwind with Job. This has been an awful tragedy to visit our community, all in the midst of so much uncertainty in the world. Yet we have been warned that in the world we would have troubles. The Lord has told us this truth, but we didn’t imagine how painful those troubles would be, or how deep the cut. Our brother Willis has been called from us, and from the arms of his young and greatly beloved frau, Mary.”
Bishop Martin paused to turn his bowed head toward the casket. Mary placed both of her hands over her face, and muffled cries filled the room. Mattie hung on to her cousin as Mary bent forward in her agony.
“Let us not sorrow as the world sorrows,” Bishop Martin continued. “We must not think ourselves above the worse troubles others suffer. The world is in great pain, and the children of God must not think that they can be spared. We would wish to cry for special favors from the Lord, but that is not His will. Instead, we must ask for grace, for endurance to bear the trial, for faith that does not grow dim. We must be secure in the Lord’s love and in our love for each other.”
Was Mervin listening? The bishop couldn’t possibly be thinking of their situation at the moment. But might this be a message from the Lord? They must not falter in their determination to walk on, regardless of the tragedies that occurred along their path. But she must think about Mary and not herself. Mattie pulled Mary closer and helped her sit upright again.
Help Mary bear this, Lord Jesus. Mattie sent up the silent prayer. She couldn’t help adding, And help us, too.
Which might mean bearing the trial of Mervin calling off the wedding again, as Mary was now bearing her sorrow. Mattie flinched. Had she just doomed herself?
Oh Lord Jesus, please not, Mattie prayed again, but the words seemed to bounce off the ceiling. What right had she to ask for blessings while Willis’s casket sat in front of her?
“The Lord will be with us,” Bishop Martin continued, “even as the trials of this life increase. None of us know what lies ahead or what dark hours await our community or the world. Satan has gone forth in our time as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour. War is an evil that has gripped the nations. We may ask and pray for peace, but our request may not come, even as our request at Willis and Mary’s wedding for a long life lived together in peace was not answered. We wished them the Lord’s blessing on that blessed day, and here we are with what we cannot understand or explain. Only our faith will carry us through, along with the Lord’s mercy. I know that these words I speak carry little hope on this day of sorrow, but in the future the Lord may recall them to our minds and give us comfort and strength to walk on in this life.”
Bishop Martin sat down, and another minister from a neighboring district rose to his feet. He began to speak, but Mattie didn’t hear him. Only Mary’s soft sobs registered. The hands on the clock above the casket slowly moved. Mattie tried to keep her gaze away from both the time and box that contained Willis’s body, but she couldn’t. She wanted this behind them. Mary would soon pass out from exhaustion if her cries continued unabated. More tears could flow in the days ahead, but it was better for Mary to collapse at home with her mamm than in public view.
The sermon finally ended, and a line formed beside the closed casket. Each person paused briefly, and a few touched the wood before they moved on. The line continued for what seemed like hours, but the clock on the wall claimed otherwise. Thirty minutes later, once t
he ministers had filed past, Mattie helped Mary to her feet with Lois on the other side. Together they moved Mary toward the casket, where Mary collapsed over the top. Everyone waited as Mary whispered words they couldn’t hear. Mary would be saying what she could no longer whisper in Willis’s ear as his frau. Mattie finally glanced over at Lois, who nodded. It was time to move on. Mattie prepared herself to pull up on Mary’s arm, but Mary stood by herself and tottered toward the door. They stayed beside the young widow and helped her into the backseat of the buggy. In front of them sat the open spring wagon that would carry the casket to the graveyard.
“You stay with her,” Lois whispered, and Mattie climbed up to sit beside her cousin. Lois climbed in the front and was soon joined by Mary’s daed, Ben. He held the reins as they waited. The casket was soon brought out and loaded onto the spring wagon, and the procession of buggies began to move down 340 toward the town of Whitehorse.
“He’s dead,” Mary said. “He’s really dead.”
Mattie grasped Mary’s arm and said nothing.
“He was such a wunderbaar husband.” Mary stared out of the open buggy door. “But he’s with the angels now. I must tell myself this truth often. Willis wouldn’t want to come back to this troubled world.”
“He loved you,” Mattie assured Mary. “You don’t have to forget that.”
Fresh tears formed in Mary’s eyes. “Jah, I know, but…”
“I’m so sorry for you,” Mattie whispered.
“Thank you for being with me today.” Mary tried to smile through her tears. “You don’t know how great a comfort that’s been.”
“I didn’t…,” Mattie protested then stopped. “I’m glad it helped,” she added.
Silence filled the buggy until they turned down the side road and into the graveyard.
“You will stay with me for the rest of this?” Mary asked through a blur of tears.
“Jah, of course.” Mattie climbed down the buggy steps and offered Mary a hand. Lois joined them, and together they approached the open grave to wait while the casket was brought over.
Mattie caught a glimpse of Mervin in the crowd. Surely Mervin would approach her once the graveside service was complete. She had to speak with him today. If the worst must be said, it must be said, but she wanted to hear the words from his mouth. Perhaps if she gazed into Mervin’s eyes while he said them, the pain would be lessened.
Mattie forced herself to focus as Bishop Martin appeared in front of them and began to pray: “Now unto our most gracious heavenly Father, we commit these remains of our brother until that day when our Lord returns with a shout and with the voice of the archangel and with a trumpet sound, to gather us home to a land where we shall forever be with the Lord through all eternity. Be with us, Lord, in the days ahead. Be also with our nation as we continue this journey through these dark hours. You have told us in Your Word that we are to pray for our leaders and all those who are in authority over us. We ask that You would give them wisdom in the choices they must make. We know these are hard choices, difficult decisions that will affect the lives of so many. Death will come again. We ask that You would receive into glory all those whose faith is fixed on You, as our brother Willis’s faith was set. Amen.”
All heads were raised, and a soft shuffle passed through the crowd. The casket was lowered, and a line of young men formed and began to shovel dirt. Mervin came up to help, but he didn’t look at her. This was right, Mattie comforted herself. She had already spent way too much time today in thoughts about herself instead of comforting Mary. She would not be offended. Mervin loved her. He did his duty in the fear of the Lord.
Mattie gave Mary one final hug as the last of the dirt was thrown on the mound. Lois took her daughter’s hand, and they moved toward the buggy.
Mattie stayed rooted to the ground for a long time. She couldn’t stop her thoughts about Mervin and what the future would hold for them. Her mind whirled. Their wedding date was less than two weeks away. Maybe if she said nothing, Mervin would pick her up for their regular date on Sunday evening and life would be unchanged. Maybe that was the best course of action. Mattie stared at the fresh mound of dirt heaped high in front of her. She jumped when a soft touch came on her arm, and whirled about to see Mervin’s sober face above her. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but this was a public place, and they had just buried Willis.
“Mattie,” he said, his hand still on her arm, “this has been a very sad day. I was glad to see you comfort Mary the way you did.”
Mattie nodded, unable to speak.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Mervin asked.
Mattie held still. She didn’t dare speak, but Mervin could be referring only to one thing. She knew him well enough to know that.
Please help me, Lord. Mattie moved her lips in a silent plea.
“We had best rethink our wedding plans,” Mervin finally said. “Don’t you think so?”
“No!” Mattie almost wailed. A few heads turned in their direction, but this was a sorrowful day and people would think she still mourned for Mary. How selfish and self-centered she was, and how right Mervin must be. Yet how could she lose her wedding date?
“The Lord has spoken pretty clearly, I’m thinking,” Mervin said. “We should listen.”
“Don’t do this to me.” Mattie turned and grasped the front of Mervin’s shirt with both hands. “Give me at least what Mary had, a few weeks with you before you have to leave.” Her mind raced. “And you don’t have to leave yet, and you may not have to leave. You can’t call off the wedding, Mervin.”
Reproof was written on his face. “We must bear our sorrows, Mattie, not grab things from the Lord’s hand. But come.” He took her hand. “We will walk through this together, but I think the wedding should be called off.”
She would collapse today in public instead of Mary, Mattie thought, as Mervin led her toward Daed’s buggy and helped her climb in. But she was still conscious when Mervin told her, “I’ll see you on Sunday evening,” and then he was gone.
There was hope, Mattie told herself. Somewhere there was always hope. Now if she could just find it. But where?
Chapter 8
December 7, 1941
Mattie threw the quilt off her bed and swung her feet out on the floor. The early morning chill crept up through the soles of her feet as she walked over to the bedroom window. She pushed the drapes aside to look up at the starry heavens. A three-quarter moon hung overhead and dimmed the stars. The sun would be up soon, but no joy sprang up inside of her at the thought. This was Sunday morning and the Lord’s Day, and her wedding had been planned for this week. Only it would not happen. She had barely slept nights since Mervin had Bishop Martin make the announcement after the services last Sunday.
One, the guests needed time to change their plans. Two, they couldn’t go on with the wedding after Willis’s death. These were reasons Mervin had given for his decision, but none of them healed her heart. She would have held the wedding by herself this Thursday, but one couldn’t get married that way.
“I love you,” Mervin had told her last Sunday evening by the front door.
She had tried to smile and murmur the words back to him, but nothing had come out.
“We’ll make this together,” he had added.
This was how their relationship had been conducted since Willis’s death. Reassurances given of what once had been, and was supposed to be, but there would be no wedding this week.
Mattie gazed up at the heavens. She should be thankful for what she had. Someday Mervin would wed her—maybe sometime before her hair grew old and gray. And she would see him today. She just wouldn’t get her wish for a wedding before Christmas.
The reality was a load like lead upon her shoulders, and the months stretched out in front of her like years. Of course, that was a light load compared to the one Mary bore. Willis would never come back to her.
Mattie closed the drapes and walked back to the bed. Her head throbbed, and she should get
another hour of sleep before dawn, but she couldn’t. Too much raced through her mind. There had been no kiss with Mervin last Sunday, not even a good-bye kiss by the front door, only a soft brush of his hand on her shoulder. They had both changed. There was no question about that. They might act like they could go on unscathed by the trouble around them, but that wasn’t true.
By next year’s wedding season, something would be lost, maybe their freshness, their trust in each other, their nearness of heart, or the tremble of their hands when they clasped them together. They might be joined as husband and wife, but their innocence would be gone. Too much had happened. Their love would never be the same. Something would die inside of her when Thursday morning arrived and her wedding dress hung in the closet untouched.
Mattie dressed but left her hair undone to make her way down the stairs with a kerosene lamp in one hand. No one was in the kitchen. Stillness hung over the house like a blanket, and wild thoughts continued to race through Mattie’s mind. Maybe she could still persuade Mervin to have the wedding on Thursday. She should ride over to his house this morning and place one last plea. She could get down on her knees and beg. She could make promises. But what promises? What would impress Mervin?
Maybe they could be married without any guests this Thursday. All that was needed was the bishop. Surely Bishop Martin would make an exception in their case. The announcement could be made right after the services today.
Or if Mervin wanted something else, she would agree. This could still happen. The time was short, but whoever could attend the wedding would come. Mamm had the food in the house for the meal, and her sisters would lend a hand. They understood the desperate times everyone lived in.
Mattie shook her head and pulled out a kitchen chair. She sat down and held her head in her hands. None of that was possible. Mervin would not change his mind. Monday morning would dawn and the week would be set in concrete.
Mattie looked up as Mamm appeared in the kitchen doorway. “You’re up early.”
A Plain and Sweet Christmas Romance Collection Page 30
