Silvia's Rose

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “Isaiah, you can’t do that!” The words burst out.

  He seemed to gather his courage. “Too late. I just did.”

  In the meantime Diana bounced up and down in her chair and chanted, “Flowers, flowers, Isaiah brought flowers!”

  “These aren’t store bought or anything like that,” he said. “They were growing along my hayfield fence behind the barn. So if the Lord can have them on display, I thought it might be okay if I borrowed them for one evening.”

  “Isaiah.” Esther tried to breathe. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Diana pointed to one of the flowers and said, “That one’s yellow on the inside. Oh, they are so pretty.” She jumped down from her chair to race across the kitchen floor.

  “That’s called a cow-wheat flower,” Isaiah offered. “That’s about all I know.” He bent low to take a sniff of the bouquet along with Diana.

  “I need to get a vase.” Esther got up and hurried into the living room.

  What had gotten into Isaiah that he would bring her flowers?

  She grabbed a Mason jar from a small desk Diana used and emptied the pencils and erasers it held. The Amish didn’t keep vases, so she would have to improvise. The pencils skidded all over the desktop, but she left them to return to the kitchen, where Isaiah and Diana were still hovering over the flowers.

  Esther filled the Mason jar with water and set it on the table. “Let me take them,” she offered.

  Their fingers touched in the transfer, but Esther kept her eyes on the flower stems. Only after the blossoms were safely in place did she dare look up at him. He seemed uncertain of himself, and perhaps a little guilty.

  “It’s okay,” she told him with a smile. “And thank you. That was very thoughtful.”

  He appeared relieved and took his seat. Isaiah had brought her flowers.

  TWENTY-TWO

  After supper, Esther moved the bouquet to the end table between the rocking chair and the couch. She reached over to brush the green leaves tucked in among the beautiful flowers.

  “You shouldn’t have, Isaiah,” she scolded. “You really shouldn’t have. What if Daniel finds out you carried a bunch of flowers into my house for my enjoyment? That’s the fancy way of the Englisha.”

  “You don’t like them?” He knew good and well by now that she did, and more than that, she’d been quite overcome.

  Diana hopped down from Isaiah’s lap—where she had been sitting contentedly since supper ended—and ran over to the bouquet. She looked back at Isaiah. “Which one did you say was the cow…what was it?”

  “A cow-wheat,” Isaiah said, coming over to kneel in front of the flowers. “As you can see, that’s the one with all the green leaves and only a little stem on top that’s white and bright yellow on the inside.”

  “What are the others?” Diana asked. “They’re so pretty.”

  Isaiah smiled. “I’m afraid I can’t help you on that. We’ll just have to enjoy them along with your mamm. I think she likes them. Doesn’t she?” Isaiah winked over his shoulder at Esther.

  She leaned out of her chair to slap him playfully on the shoulder. Where had that instinct come from? They were not wed yet. She looked away and forced herself to breathe evenly.

  Diana spoke up. “Maybe we can go ask Joseph what the other flowers are called. He would know.”

  Isaiah’s Adam’s apple bobbed a few times.

  Esther leaped to his defense. “No, Diana, we’re not going down to see Joseph. You can enjoy the flowers without knowing all about them. See, I am.”

  Esther leaned over to take a long sniff. She came much too close to Isaiah’s face, but he made no effort to draw away. She jerked upright and exclaimed, “The dishes!”

  They still sat on the kitchen table. Never before had she left the supper dishes to sit and chat in the living room.

  “I want to know what the flowers are,” Diana pouted. “And Joseph knows.”

  “Stop it, Diana. Be thankful for what you have.”

  Isaiah had a big grin on his face. “Perhaps we can find an answer without making the trip to see Joseph. Do you have an encyclopedia in the house?”

  Esther thought for a moment. “We haven’t unpacked everything since the move, but even if they can be found, they’re quite old.”

  “It would be worth a try! Do you know where the unpacked boxes are?” Isaiah asked Diana.

  “Yah, I do.” Diana bounced to her feet and took his hand. “Come. I will show you.”

  “You’d best take a lamp with you,” Esther told them. “It’s starting to get dark.”

  “That we can do,” Isaiah sang out, picking up the kerosene lamp on the desk. “A match?” he asked.

  “Let’s look in the drawer,” Esther managed as she moved forward to the desk. With matches in hand, she lit the flame as Isaiah held the lamp. He waited as she lifted the globe and lit the wick with trembling fingers. He gave her a smile when the flame caught, and then Diana led Isaiah up the stairs with her hand in his.

  Esther returned to the couch and collapsed. Feather sticks! This is what came from falling in love. Whatever had prompted her to say such words, and now…oh, it was too late. That’s all there was to it. Maybe if she had gone to wash the dishes some good sense would have returned to her. Now the image of Isaiah with Diana’s hand trustingly in his danced in her head. The man seemed possessed overnight with the ability to wrench her emotions out of shape. The bouquet of wildflowers on its own would have undone her completely, but coupled with everything else this evening…oh!

  Esther fanned herself and then hurried into the kitchen. Maybe doing something ordinary would help.

  She gathered the dishes and moved them to the sink. She paused when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs again, and then Isaiah and Diana reappeared.

  “Found it!” Isaiah declared. “A is for apple—or rather, Adirondacks, and its flowers are listed here.”

  Esther left the dirty plates in the sink and followed them into the living room, where Isaiah patted the empty space beside him on the couch. She sat as Isaiah opened the dusty book. The faded white pages still displayed the text well enough to read. He held the encyclopedia close enough for Diana, who peered at the book from over his knee. Isaiah’s finger traced through the pictures of the flowers, as his glances went back and forth between the bouquet and the page.

  “Here we go,” he announced. “A dwarf ginseng, which is the all-white one with the long strings on the side and the pale yellow center.”

  Diana’s eyes verified the match, and she bounced up and down to proclaim, “That’s what it is!”

  “Ta-da! One down.” Isaiah winked at Esther. “Here’s number two. A blue flag iris. That’s the purple one with the four long tails brushed with yellow and white. I had to go down to my swampy area in the back pasture to pick that one.” Isaiah made a face at the little girl by his side. “I got my feet wet.”

  “But it’s so pretty!” She bounced up and down a few more times before she pointed. “There’s one more.”

  “There it is, all right. A bog laurel.” He glanced toward Esther. “What do you think?”

  “I appreciate your doing this. Thank you.”

  He grinned and focused on the pictures again. “The bog laurel also came from the wet spot in my pasture,” he told Diana. “The cows had stomped a few of them, but this one was left.”

  “I’m happy it was.” Diana beamed up at him. “You got to bring the flower to us in a bouquet. Will you be bringing flowers every Friday evening?”

  Isaiah gave Diana a quick hug. “Well, we can shoot some more arrows, perhaps, but there probably won’t be more flowers…”

  Esther came to his rescue. “Flowers are very special, Diana. He won’t bring them every week.”

  “But I want them.”

  “You’ve had enough of what you want for one evening,” Esther said. “You can play for a bit by yourself now, and then it’s off to bed with you.”

  Diana smiled up at Isaia
h before she ran off toward her bedroom. “Thank you for telling me what the flowers are,” she said over her shoulder.

  “You’re welcome!” he called after her, but she didn’t slow down.

  “You have been very sweet to her tonight,” Esther whispered. “That wasn’t all necessary, but—”

  He laid his hand on hers. “It was worth it, Esther. Diana is a very dear child to me. She grows closer to my heart every time I come over here, as does my heart toward her mamm.”

  “Isaiah, you’ll have me a blubbering mess before long, what with your praising me, bringing flowers and rabbits for stew…It’s all overwhelming.”

  “Not at all. And now, shall I help you with the dishes?”

  “No!” Esther gasped. “That’s not right.”

  “Come.” He took her hand. “I want to help, and I do have some practice at this. You know I have to wash my own dishes at home. An awful task indeed, which will be much more pleasant tonight with you beside me.”

  She followed him into the kitchen. “You just want to see me in tears.”

  “They would be very lovely tears,” he teased.

  She slapped him on the arm, and he laughed softly. Glancing at the dishes in the sink, he commented, “You’ve been working already.”

  “Just a little while you were upstairs with Diana.”

  “Always working.”

  “Do you object?”

  “Of course not! I like a hardworking woman.”

  She began filling the sink with water as he continued. “Opening myself to Diana has been a little scary for me…but I think I’ve kept my head above water so far. Haven’t I?”

  “You have,” she assured him. “And then some.”

  “And you?”

  She looked away. “Me what?”

  “Am I keeping my head above water with you? You don’t really mind the flowers, do you? The compliments?”

  “You know I don’t.” She began slipping the dishes into the hot water.

  “You’re becoming quite dear to me, Esther,” he said from close behind her.

  Esther took a deep breath. Surely he wouldn’t kiss her now. Surely not.

  He stepped closer and reached for her hand. “I want to marry you, Esther. Will you?”

  “Marry you?” she choked.

  “Yah, marry me. We knew each other in the past, we’re quite similar in nature, and we’ve both lost a mate and need another one. And Diana needs a daett. I remember your saying you wanted to fall in love with me—which I assume you want to do before you become my promised one. So, if you want to wait, that’s okay. But I’m ready to commit, Esther.” His eyes were pleading.

  She couldn’t breathe. There had never been any question in her mind about her willingness to marry Isaiah. Did she dare say that to him now?

  “Isaiah, I…I moved out here in hopes of marrying you.”

  “And you haven’t changed your mind?”

  “No.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I will marry you, yah. I admit I’ve become a bit confused since I arrived here in the valley, but I can get over that. You are what I want in a husband, and I hope I’m what you want in a frau. There’s no need to go through any more emotional turmoil. You don’t have to bring me flowers, or praise me in public, or worry about that stupid thing I said about wanting to fall in love with you. That was awful of me, Isaiah. I loved Lonnie with my whole heart, and I’m willing to give my heart to you. You don’t have to do anything more to show me that you care. I already feel that I made a mess of things by saying that I needed to fall in love.”

  He whispered in her ear, his hands soft on her shoulders. “If it is a mess we are in, it is a beautiful mess, Esther.” He chuckled. “I had the wildflowers folded in an old newspaper in the back of the buggy, and my shoes are still wet from the swamp waters. Who would have thought I’d ever do something like that, but…I liked it. You have awakened things in me that I didn’t know were there. Will you join me for the rest of life’s journey, right through this fall and to our wedding vows? And from there, to whatever the Lord has for us beyond those years?”

  She reached for his face and pulled him toward her and gave him his answer with kisses.

  She didn’t let go until the clock on the kitchen wall had ticked for a long time.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Early the following Monday morning, Isaiah drove Echo up Fords Bush Road from the south. The longer route cost him a few extra miles, and even then Esther might still see him pulling in the driveway to Joseph’s greenhouse—but the risk couldn’t be removed entirely. If she asked him later why he had been to see Joseph, he would admit the truth. After her kisses on Friday evening, he would never be able to hide anything from her. It was difficult enough to think straight.

  His sermon on Sunday had been little more than muddled phrases and disconnected thoughts. Deacon Daniel had glanced at him several times with a hint of a smile. At least Bishop Willis had acted as though the stumbling sermon was a well-delivered one. Isaiah hadn’t been able to help himself. All he had thought of on Saturday and Sunday morning was Esther’s beautiful face. To make things worse, she was seated right in his line of sight with Diana beside her.

  Isaiah pulled his hat down over his eyes as he drove toward Joseph’s greenhouse, but his horse and buggy were what would give his visit away, not his bearded face. He rubbed his cheeks with his free hand. If he arrived at Joseph’s greenhouse all aflame like a romantic teenager, he had no one to blame but himself. He should think about his farm duties. Maybe that kind of distraction would help. But he would still have to face the purpose of his visit. He wasn’t here to see Joseph about his acres or crops, but about an idea. Indeed, what a foolish errand he had embarked upon this morning. Yet he couldn’t help himself.

  “Whoa there,” Isaiah called to Echo as they bounced into Joseph’s driveway and clattered to a stop by the hitching post. No one was in sight, and Isaiah hopped out to secure Echo’s bridle with the tie rope.

  He hurried forward and ducked inside the greenhouse without knocking. Joseph appeared from between the plants with a look of surprise. “Isaiah. What brings you out my way this morning?”

  Isaiah glanced backward over his shoulder, and then he looked down the greenhouse rows.

  Joseph chuckled. “If you’re worried that someone might see you here, I’m by myself. Arlene will be here soon, though. Esther doesn’t come down until Tuesday, unless she surprises me, which is possible of late. Seems as though there are lots of surprises happening around here.” Joseph’s chuckle deepened. “But there’s still time to talk if that’s why you’re here.”

  “Yah.” Isaiah rushed the words out. “I want to ask you about the roses…about what Esther told me.”

  “Told you what?”

  “I’m sorry if you didn’t intend for Esther to tell anyone about the rose you grew for Silvia, and the whole story behind its special nature, and the award you’re trying to win.”

  Joseph smiled. “She told you all that? I’m honored, and I’m sure Silvia feels the same from heaven.” He mused on his words and then added, “Don’t you think those who have gone before us know such things…if it means a lot to those who stayed behind?”

  “I don’t know, Joseph. But I suppose if Silvia needs to know and it’s dear to her heart, she may know.”

  “Thank you. But what about my story brings you here this morning? Do you want a handful of roses?”

  “I already took her some flowers on Friday night, so I’m not here for a bouquet—”

  “You did what?” Joseph interrupted.

  “Yah, I know.” Isaiah sighed. “They were wildflowers, and I picked them from my fence row and from my lower swampland. Surely there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “We could ask Deacon Daniel, I suppose,” Joseph teased, and they both chuckled.

  Isaiah hurried on. “Truth is, Joseph, I would like to create, or grow, or make—however you say it—a rose for Esther like you did for Silvia. I’d like to give it to
Esther on our wedding night.” Isaiah glanced around again and rubbed his warm cheeks with both hands. “There. I’ve said it.”

  Joseph studied Isaiah for a moment. “Let me get this straight. You want to create a hybrid rose so you can give it to Esther by this fall? Is that when the wedding will be?”

  “Yah, but don’t tell anybody. We don’t have the exact date yet, but the planning has begun as of late last week.”

  “Well, congratulations.” Joseph offered his hand. “It’s not too often that one gets to extend one’s best wishes this early in the game. I’m honored indeed.”

  “Yah, you played a part in all this, so all the more reason for the rose…if it can be done.”

  Joseph pondered for a moment before replying. “I have several hybrid roses I pollinated last year and planted in December. None of them are quite up to Silvia’s Rose. I mean, you never know how they will turn out, and each cross is a guess in the dark, but they are nice. Do you want to see them?”

  “Sure!” Isaiah followed Joseph’s shuffle to the adjoining greenhouse, where tables of blooming roses were set.

  Joseph motioned with his hand. “Most of these are tried-and-true versions of roses, which the public wants. And here’s Silvia’s Rose, which sells at the Saturday market like warm homemade bread.”

  “I can see why.” Isaiah paused to take a long sniff over the white-and-orange blossom. “It has quite the sweet smell.”

  “Silvia was a sweet woman,” Joseph said softly. “She loved me when few did, and for that I will always be thankful. She earned her crown of righteousness with the kindness shown to me, if for nothing else.”

  “I’ve heard she had a difficult life on the other side of the fence,” Isaiah ventured.

  “She did, but she never told me too much about that. Silvia wanted to live in the present with the short time left to her.”