by Sarah Price
Eleanor couldn’t imagine how they managed to run a small farm and a meat market stand in another state. With the husband gone for more than half of the week, the bulk of the work most certainly fell on this woman’s shoulders. And with kinner too? “Mayhaps I can walk over to your haus and drop it off on Saturday for you,” Eleanor suggested, hoping that, if nothing else, that might offer the woman some assistance.
Not ten minutes had passed after the woman left when another approaching horse was heard. Mary Ann called out to Eleanor, her voice loud and excited.
“Come, Eleanor! It’s a lone rider! Come see who it is!”
When Eleanor joined her sister in the middle of the empty garden patch, Mary Ann seemed more alive and animated than she had in days. “It’s him. Oh, Eleanor! I just know it’s John Willis.”
But the figure that approached around the evergreens was certainly not Willis.
It took Eleanor a moment to realize that she recognized the man, and only when Mary Ann gasped and cried out, “Edwin?” did she truly believe it.
He dismounted the horse a few feet from the garden, pausing to let his gaze linger on Eleanor for a moment.
“Edwin!” Mary Ann cried. Forgetting her manners, she ran up and gave him a warm hug. “We knew you would come!”
Eleanor blushed, wishing she could take back Mary Ann’s words that clearly insinuated the family had talked about Edwin.
He gave a nervous laugh. “My visit is a bit overdue, ja?”
“Have you just come from Manheim, then?” Mary Ann asked, excitement in her voice. “How do my gardens look? And the flower beds? Has Fanny been maintaining them? Oh, how I miss seeing gardens!”
“Ach, Mary Ann,” Eleanor finally spoke, chastising her sister. “Such questions! I’m sure they look no different from the gardens around here.”
Mary Ann responded by giving Eleanor a sharp look and gesturing to the empty garden plot. “We don’t have any gardens here!”
Choosing not to respond, Eleanor lifted her eyes to look at Edwin. Something about the way he stood before her caused a conflict of emotions within her. While her heart continued to beat rapidly, she noted that he seemed more reserved than he had been when they left Manheim. In fact, with the dullness in his eyes, he looked downright unhappy.
“Uh . . . ja, your gardens remain quite pretty,” Edwin responded at last. “But they are not as beautiful as when you tended to them. Although I haven’t been there for a week or so.”
Eleanor heard her mother approach the front door, and when she saw Edwin, she hurried over to greet him, a bright smile on her face. “What a welcome surprise!” she said as she shook his hand. “Have you just come from Manheim, then? How does your sister fare?”
He seemed to fidget, his feet shuffling in the grass. “Fanny does quite well, I’m sure, although I haven’t been there for a short while.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve returned to Narvon to visit with my family and some . . . friends,” he said, avoiding eye contact with them. “I thought to visit with you on my way back.” He paused. “To Manheim.”
This news pleased their mother, and her smile broadened. Eleanor knew why. Quarryville was quite remotely located from both Narvon and Manheim. Such a visit—and on horseback!—spoke of an endearment for the family, more than words could express.
“Vell, do come inside and join us for dinner,” Maem said, gesturing toward the house. “It’s almost ready, and I’m sure there is much news to catch up on!”
Inside they seated themselves, Edwin in the rocking chair, and Eleanor continued to watch him, curious about Edwin’s distant manner. At first she thought he might be nervous and embarrassed at the delay in his promised visit. Now, however, she wondered if something was wrong. He wrung his hands and continued to avoid her eyes.
“Is everyone well at Manheim and Narvon?” she asked, paying attention to how he shifted his gaze to look at her and then looked down at the floor.
“Oh ja, everyone is fine,” he responded. “My bruder is managing the farm for me while I help John and Fanny.” He hesitated for a moment. “I do believe your departure has helped Fanny gain a finer appreciation of the hard work involved in maintaining a farm.”
Mary Ann snickered, and Eleanor gave her a stern look.
“Farmwork is hard, indeed,” Eleanor said. “But I miss it. We’ve nothing to do with farming here, but we have kept busy sewing clothing for people in the community.”
Maem hurried over and handed Edwin a glass of meadow tea. “That was Eleanor’s doing. Quite a fine idea. Helps some of the people and earns us some extra money.”
Edwin looked at her at last. His eyes brightened for a moment. “Was it, now?” He smiled for the first time in a way that appeared genuine. “Why am I not surprised?” He turned his attention toward her mother. “Are you getting on well here, then?” he asked.
“Oh, indeed,” Maem said.
“Except for having to visit and dine at the Millers!” Mary Ann added in a callous manner.
Both Eleanor and Maem stared at her, too surprised by her complaint.
“It’s more than anyone should have to bear,” she said defiantly. “Widow Jennings, especially!”
“Mary Ann!” Eleanor couldn’t keep herself from responding. “How can you say such a thing? They have been nothing but kind and gracious in welcoming us here!”
Rolling her eyes, Mary Ann said, “But the payment for that is listening to their constant prattle and bearing their continuous prodding into our private lives! Why, they practically chased John Willis away!”
Edwin sat up in his seat. “John Willis? I don’t think I know anyone named Willis.”
“Oh, but you shall,” Mary Ann said with complete confidence.
“I see.”
For the rest of his visit Edwin’s reserve slowly melted away and he seemed much more like himself. At one point Maem and Mary Ann left the house to go outside, walking down the lane to meet Maggie on her return from school. Eleanor felt awkward, sitting alone with Edwin. The length of their separation from each other certainly created some discomfort, but Eleanor noticed how Edwin tried to minimize his distance and make up for lost time.
“I suspect I will be taking over my daed’s farm in the spring,” he said slowly.
“You don’t sound happy about it,” she heard herself say, immediately wishing she hadn’t made such an intimate observation.
“I . . . I reckon I’m not as happy as I’d like to be,” he admitted.
She wanted to ask why, but decorum held back the question. Instead, she merely said, “I’m sorry to hear that, Edwin.”
He was about to respond when Maggie burst through the door. Like Mary Ann, she jumped into Edwin’s arms and gave him a sisterly embrace.
“I knew you’d come!” she gushed. “No matter what the others thought and said, I just knew it!”
Eleanor did not need a mirror to know that her cheeks flushed pink once again.
Edwin laughed at the greeting bestowed on him by Maggie. “I did promise I would, didn’t I, now?”
“What took you so long?” Maggie demanded, a playful pout on her lips.
“I . . . uh . . . I had some things to take care of in Narvon.” And, once again, that sorrowful look returned to his eyes and an invisible wall seemed to separate the former Edwin from the Edwin that now sat before them.
Mary Ann and Maem had just walked into the house when he said this, and before either one of them could inquire further—for Eleanor could clearly see they both wanted to ask—she quickly changed the discussion.
“How long will you be visiting?”
Edwin shifted his weight in the chair and clasped his hands before him as his eyes looked at the small clock hanging over the window in the kitchen. “Regrettably I must return today. I borrowed the horse from a friend of mine in Georgetown.” He paused. “I’m considering purchasing the horse, so he let me ride here to visit with you. My driver is picking me up in just an hour, so I shall
have to leave shortly.”
“But I haven’t had time to visit with you!” Maggie cried in alarm.
Eleanor reached out her hand and gently took Maggie’s. “Now Maggie, you should be grateful that Edwin stayed so long just to see you! Surely he could have left long before now. You should thank him and not complain.” She smiled at Edwin while still holding Maggie’s hand. “Your visit here has been the highlight of our week, for sure and certain. And you must send our regards to John, Fanny, and little Henry.”
Within the quarter hour, Edwin said his good-byes, and Eleanor walked with him outside to where his horse grazed. Their parting was friendly but with no promises on his part to return and that distant look remaining in his eyes. As he rode the horse down the lane, he never looked back. Eleanor sighed, knowing what had not been spoken. Whatever she felt for Edwin and whatever she hoped he felt for her, Edwin Fisher’s visit had been strictly to fulfill a promise and not for any other reason.
“Seriously, Eleanor!” Mary Ann scolded when she returned to the house. “Could you have been any colder toward him?”
Stunned, Eleanor stared at her. “Cold? What do you mean?”
“Clearly he would have stayed. You only had to ask! Maggie could have slept in Maem’s room. Why, he looked so sad and unhappy! I’m sure I know the reason why!”
Gritting her teeth so that she did not say what she wanted to, Eleanor waited, knowing that Mary Ann, never one to be shy with words, would volunteer her opinion without being asked.
“If he questioned your affections for him before, he certainly suspects now that you have no more interest in him than you would in an older bruder!” Mary Ann said with a sharp tone in her voice.
No longer could Eleanor stay silent on the matter. She narrowed her eyes, her attention only on Mary Ann. “Better that than to throw myself at him and have the whole g’may talk about how forward I am!”
Mary Ann caught her breath and Eleanor turned, walking back to the door. She needed time alone to clear her head. Despite her pointed response to Mary Ann, Eleanor wasn’t so certain that there wasn’t an element of truth to her schwester’s accusation. Perhaps Edwin did not understand how she felt for him. Had her own sense of propriety driven away the one man she had hoped to love for the rest of her life?
Chapter Fifteen
MARY ANN TRUDGED behind Maem and Eleanor as they crossed the side field toward the Millers’ house. Up ahead Maggie chased a butterfly, tripping once and disappearing before she stood up, brushed off her dress, and started running again.
“Why, exactly, must I come along? I’m not feeling well, you know,” Mary Ann complained, dragging her feet through the tall grass. “I could just as well stay home, rest, and even sew!”
“You hate to sew,” Eleanor said over her shoulder.
“Not as much as having to take a meal with that obnoxious Widow Jennings and her mousy daughter!”
“Mary Ann!” Maem scolded her for her impertinence. “Such cheekiness! I know I raised you better than that!” But when Maem turned back around, Eleanor thought she saw the hint of a smile on her mother’s face.
Over a week had passed since Edwin’s unexpected visit. Eleanor certainly had felt the pangs of grief mixed with guilt during the initial days. She kept thinking about the idea that he might have missed seeing her fondness for him. Had she truly been so proper that he might have mistaken propriety for apathy? At night she couldn’t sleep. She lay on her side, her back to Mary Ann in the bed they shared. With eyes wide open she stared into the darkness and kept thinking over every conversation she had with Edwin. She hunted her memory for clues that might indicate the flaw in her behavior that caused him to be so reserved.
No one seemed to notice her fatigue, and for that she was grateful. She kept her worries to herself, not even sharing them with Mary Ann, who had already made her opinion well known. There would be no compassion from her sister, that was for sure and certain. In the meantime her silence allowed Mary Ann the privilege of stealing the spotlight as she vocalized her pining for Willis while simultaneously planning for her as-yet-to-be-mentioned wedding.
The previous day, when Jacob had stopped down to invite them to Saturday supper, Maem had quickly accepted on behalf of the four of them. Eleanor presumed her mother’s quick acceptance had a lot to do with the morose behavior of one daughter and the precipitous prattle of the other. Now, as the Detweiler family walked toward the big white farmhouse, Eleanor felt a sense of relief. It was good to leave the cottage and socialize with others, even if the socializing was often one-sided.
“Come in, come in!” Widow Jennings cried out, flinging open the front door before they had even reached the entry walkway. A small child was draped over her shoulder, its head hidden beneath a crocheted blanket. Clearly the child was sleeping, which didn’t seem to hinder Widow Jennings from talking. With a broad smile, her happiness at seeing the Detweilers more than apparent, she motioned them inside. “We’ve such a surprise for you today!”
Once inside the house, Eleanor found herself leading the way into the great gathering room that connected with the Millers’ kitchen. Leah Miller was busy at the stove, so involved in preparing the meal that she barely did more than wave to acknowledge their arrival. Widow Jennings, however, hurried over to the sitting area and sat in the rocking chair, continuing to hold her grandchild in her arms. Her loud, boisterous voice did not wake the sleeping child, a fact that surprised Eleanor but did not seem to interest anyone else in the room.
“Danke for the invitation,” Maem said to Jacob, who sat in his own recliner by the propane lantern. Despite the sun not having set, the hissing noise and bright light of the flame flooded the room.
“What’s a gathering without our family?” he said cheerfully. Then he motioned to where three women sat on the sofa on the far side of the sitting area. “Family makes every occasion special, for sure and certain.”
Eleanor smiled politely at them and waited for an introduction. Two of the women were younger, both refreshingly pretty in a plain sort of way. As for the older woman, there was nothing remarkable, or even memorable, about her appearance. She had deep creases on her forehead and her nose looked bulbous. However, there was a sparkle in her eyes as she looked at the newcomers, her eyes pausing to rest on Eleanor.
“Let me guess! The Detweiler sisters!” she said and laughed good-naturedly.
“Come, come, girls!” Jacob said, waving his hand for them to step closer. “What’s this shyness routine? I want you to meet these fine young ladies!”
Eleanor did as instructed while Mary Ann had to nudge Maggie, who was prone to shyness around strangers. Meanwhile Maem excused herself to help Leah in the kitchen.
“This is my sister-in-law, Charlotte, and her nieces, Lydia and Annie,” Jacob declared. “They arrived just this morning to visit for a few days.”
“We’ve heard so much about you from Mammi!” Charlotte said, shaking Eleanor’s hand with more enthusiasm than was necessary.
It took Eleanor a moment to realize that she referenced Widow Jennings as her mother, a fact that startled her since Widow Jennings rarely talked about her first daughter, let alone mentioning a second. And her appearance was nothing at all like her mother’s. While Widow Jennings’s hair was white from age, Charlotte had brown hair pulled back so tight that her part was almost an inch wide. And from the looks of it she enjoyed her desserts a little too much, for her waist was so rotund that, for a moment, Eleanor thought she might be pregnant.
Even more distressing, however, was the comment that Charlotte and Widow Jennings had had discussions about the Detweilers. For just a moment Eleanor wondered what Widow Jennings saw when she looked at her mother and sisters. She knew from comments Widow Jennings made about others that she was not prone to holding back her opinions. Certainly Mary Ann’s behavior had been a topic of conversation, as Eleanor had warned her it would be.
Charlotte, however, didn’t seem to know that she was unknown to Eleanor and the r
est of the Detweiler family. “We’ve heard so much about the Detweilers, haven’t we, Lydia? Hmm? Annie?”
Lydia gave a soft smile. “Oh ja, we have.”
“It’s nice that you could visit,” Eleanor said politely. “And on such a beautiful day.”
“And I simply can’t wait to go for a walk after dinner!” Charlotte clapped her hands together, more like a child than an adult. In fact, if it weren’t for the weathered look on her forehead and the corners of her eyes, Eleanor would have thought she was younger than Lydia or Annie, and they both appeared to be no more than twenty. “I just love the outdoors. And walking. When you don’t live in the country, you forget how delightful the walks are! Such beautiful scenery and all of those birds!” She gasped and clasped her hands together. “I love watching all of the birds, especially the ones in the haylofts. You’d think they’d be starting their migration, though, wouldn’t you?”
“Do you live nearby, then?” Eleanor asked, more out of politeness than interest.
“Oh, heavens, no! We’re up on the other side of Honey Brook,” Charlotte gushed.
“And, regrettably, I shall be returning with them when they leave,” Widow Jennings said. Eleanor wondered whether her regrets were for leaving Quarryville or for having to battle Charlotte to commandeer the conversation.
Charlotte seemed immune to the double meaning of her mother’s words. “You do so love Honey Brook, don’t you, Mammi? It’s so different from down here. We live just close enough to town—if you can really call it that!—to walk there. Of course what is there to see in Honey Brook? Although they do have that one Chinese food restaurant on 322! But who wants to walk through town anyway? Especially in the winter. Dreadful winters!” She made a face. “I could do quite well enough without all that snow, couldn’t you, Mammi?”
Widow Jennings groaned and rolled her eyes. “Heavens, yes! I think next year I shall go down to Pinecraft in Florida! I have two schwesters with homes there.”
