Ella's Wish (Little Valley 2)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Preacher Stutzman called out three names—the bishop, another minister, and one of the older men from the congregation. He then took his seat beside Mary, who leaned her head into his lap.

  “I heard nothing against the word of God today,” the first of the witnesses began.

  Moments later the second witness said, “We are so blessed to hear from Da Ha today.”

  The third closed with an equally flattering review, “Today, once again, we can see why we are so blessed to not only be among the people of God but to be so privileged that heaven still speaks to us. Our young people should listen with their ears open all the way.”

  Preacher Stutzman’s sermons always received good testimony, if for no other reason than their fierceness.

  The song leader gave out the number, and the singing began. The clock on the kitchen wall showed the time as a little past twelve. With the last stanza finished, Ella got up with the other girls and followed them into the kitchen. Behind her the men had already set up the tables in the living room, and the married women began to sit down.

  She might not attend the youth functions anymore, but she was still a single girl and would be expected to act like one. Until forever, she thought. The image of a wrinkled old maid who still waited on the Sunday tables rose in her mind. That idea was a little impossible. Surely somewhere in the future, she would sit and be served but not now.

  Ella would have chosen the women’s table to wait on, but that was taken, as was the boys’. With no choice in the matter, she waited until prayer was completed and then walked over to the men’s table, carrying the water pitcher. They had already started to eat, dipping their knives into the peanut butter and reaching for the pickle bowls. She waited a few moments and then moved in closer to the broad shoulders and beards. Glasses were lifted up to her. Most of the men smiled a greeting to her. One of them was the face of Preacher Stutzman, but his face was not smiling. That didn’t bother Ella, and yet it did. He knows I will take over the care of his girls tomorrow, and he could at least act friendly toward me.

  When the first bowl was down to the last pickle, she brought in a fresh one while carrying a bowl of peanut butter in her other hand. As Ella approached the table, Preacher Stutzman was spreading butter on a piece of bread for Mary, who sat beside him. His knife reached for the peanut butter bowl, but it was empty.

  “It’s all gone,” he said in a low voice.

  “She’s got more,” Mary said, whispering and peeking over his shoulder.

  Preacher Stutzman turned to her, but to Ella he didn’t seem like Preacher Stutzman anymore. He was the other man with the cautious blue eyes; the man who had called on her to watch his girls.

  “Well, it looks like she got here just in time,” he said with a gentle smile to Mary.

  The little girl nodded and turned her beaming face toward Ella. Ella leaned across the table to exchange the bowls.

  “Mary, this is Ella Yoder,” Preacher Stutzman said, whispering again. “You’re stayin’ at her place all next week, startin’ tomorrow.”

  Little Mary’s eyes got big but didn’t leave Ella’s face.

  “You’ll like her house,” Preacher Stutzman said softly. “It’s a nice house and really big.”

  “Will Sarah and the baby come?” Mary asked.

  Preacher Stutzman nodded.

  “I’ll like it, then,” Mary said, still beaming.

  “I’m sure you will,” Preacher Stutzman said, drawing Mary tight against him and apparently forgetting Ella for the moment.

  She turned to go as he finished preparing Mary’s peanut butter sandwich. The bowls were empty at the other end of the table, and concerned, bearded faces turned in Ella’s direction. She dashed off to the kitchen for refills.

  “I hear you’re takin’ in Joe and Ronda after their weddin’,” her cousin Susie whispered in the kitchen, “and Preacher Stutzman’s girls. What a handful that will be. I guess you never do things halfway.”

  Ella smiled with effort, grabbed the bowls she needed, and whispered back, “They’re waitin’.”

  “You need any help at the house?” Susie asked. “Mamm said I could come over once in a while.”

  “I’ll let you know,” Ella said, turning to go, “but I’m tryin’ to keep things down to where I can handle them.”

  “Well, don’t be shy to speak up if you get in too deep,” Susie said to her retreating back.

  Susie meant well, but her words meant the whole community knew of her plans and had opinions on the matter—opinions that might not be as friendly as Susie and her mother’s had been and might be about what an unmarried woman ought or ought not do.

  Marry, that’s what they would say. Ella leaned between two broad shoulders to replace the bowls. They probably think I should get a man like one of these men, a man who would take proper care of me. He would keep the house the way a house ought to be kept—with a man’s authority. Was that, perhaps, Preacher Stutzman’s hidden message—a sermon on the proper attitude a girl should have? Does Preacher Stutzman know about my father’s wish that I take Bishop Miller as a husband? Was he reminded of how I live when he stopped by to make arrangements for his girls’ keep? Not likely…and yet possible. She pushed the thoughts aside and walked back to the kitchen for bread this time.

  “The whole table needs bread,” she whispered to Susie. “I need help.”

  “Sure,” Susie said, grabbing two of the plates of bread and following Ella back into the living room. They exchanged the bread plates, careful that no crumbs spilled onto the men’s laps. Ella felt the back of her neck grow warm. There was no doubt about it. Preacher Stutzman had been staring at her.

  Nineteen

  Ella stood against the living room wall. The first meal was almost over, and the bishop looked ready to call the prayer out.

  “If we have eaten, let us now pray,” the bishop announced in a voice that reached the recesses of the house.

  All heads bowed, and silence settled quickly. Ella folded her arms and focused her eyes on the floor.

  “And now our great and mighty God,” the bishop prayed, “we give You thanks for the food we have received. May Your grace be over us in the days ahead as You have guided us in the past with Your mighty hand. Bless now all who are here today and Your children everywhere. Amen.”

  Ella waited as the murmur of voices resumed and the tables emptied. A few of the married men moved slowly outside. Toothpicks hung from their mouths as they murmured in low voices to those nearby. At the single boys’ table in the other room, they jumped up as one, heading for the door in a long line and spilling out into the yard.

  Ella followed one particular figure until the boy turned sideways. It was Daniel. He purposely looked away from her during the service and the meal. Now, with a good look at him, Ella thought that he looked happy. Perhaps Arlene had spoken to him with success. Ella sighed with relief. At least there was one less thing to weigh on her mind.

  Several of the married women came from the kitchen table and shooed the menfolk farther away, out toward the yard. They grinned meekly over their toothpicks, tucked their beards in, and complied. Several grabbed loose benches and took them along outside, setting them up in uneven lines under the oak trees.

  Ella helped clear the tables in preparation for the hungry young people to fill up even before the utensils could be cleaned. The other young girls took seats, and she followed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daniel’s buggy leave. He was alone but turned south at the road, heading toward Arlene’s house.

  She had to stop worrying about him even if he seemed like a brother to her.

  “You’ll be at the singin’ tonight?” Susie asked, making Ella jump.

  Waiting until prayer was done again, Ella whispered back, “I’m going over to Mamm’s for the afternoon, and I have to get home early after that.”

  “Hidin’ away are we?” Susie spread butter on her bread. “And why did you jump when I spoke? Are you nervous about something or watching s
omeone?”

  “Not really,” Ella said, trying in vain to smile. Why does guilt plague me even when I’m not guilty? She had no plans to mention Daniel’s name.

  “You know, Ella, Da Hah has someone for you,” Susie said, bending toward her, “even if your heart’s been broken. I don’t blame you for thinking of whoever it was you were thinking about.” At that, Susie smiled a knowing smile.

  “I expect I’ll just be an old maid with a house full of people and children,” Ella said quietly, hoping none of the girls around them would join the conversation.

  “That’s what they all say,” Susie said, spreading the peanut butter on thick before she added a piece of cheese.

  Not me, Ella almost said but changed it to, “What about you?” hoping the conversation would take another direction.

  Susie’s cheeks colored slightly.

  “Well, it’s about time,” Ella teased, glad the tactic had worked.

  Susie paid close attention to her sandwich.

  “This fall or spring?” Ella guessed. “It’s been over three years, right?”

  “Quiet,” Susie whispered out of the corner of her mouth while she focused her eyes straight ahead.

  “You started it.”

  “I guess I did,” Susie said, relaxing a bit and letting her shoulders fall a bit. “I can’t wait though! It seems like forever already, but it’s only been four years.”

  Ella reasoned that Susie likely had her wedding dress material picked out, and the dress might even be almost made by now. Susie’s joy would be equal to what her own had been, and her expectations would grow higher as the day drew closer. Only Susie’s hopes wouldn’t be dashed to the ground like stones thrown from the hay field.

  Thankfully Susie turned to speak to the girl beside her. Ella listened to the soft fall and rise of their conversation. She ate in silence and was glad that the discussion of weddings had been cut short.

  When the meal was ending, prayer was announced, and they all bowed their heads. Ella then rose to help with the last round of table clearing. Afterward, she left the house and walked toward the barn, which turned the heads of several boys still in the yard who knew their duty to help her.

  Not that she needed the help. At home the women worked in the barns and fields as freely as the men did, but on Sundays, a woman who had to hitch her own horse made the menfolk—even the young ones—fidgety. Someone would feel obligated to offer his help and retrieve her horse from the crowded barn stalls.

  Thankfully she saw Susie’s boyfriend, Fred, out of the corner of her eye, getting up from his bench and coming toward the barn. He might or might not be ready to leave himself, but Susie would have no objection if he helped.

  “You don’t have to help,” Ella said, just inside the barn door.

  “Someone has to,” he said with a smile. “We can’t have a good-looking girl hitching her own buggy, now can we?”

  “Watch your mouth,” she said.

  Fred laughed and went to get her horse. He stopped the horse outside the barn, took the bridle she held out for him, and put it on the horse. Together they walked toward her buggy, aware that half the folks gathered in the yard were looking their way.

  “Susie almost spilled the beans today,” she said, teasing and holding the shafts high in her hands.

  “What? That her mother won’t let me see her anymore?” he said with a straight face.

  “Fred,” Ella said but had to laugh. “You know what I mean.”

  “Birdies fly, and birdies land, and I expect everything happens eventually.”

  “I expect they do,” she said, getting into the buggy.

  “You have a good ride,” he said, slapping the horse on the neck and letting go of the bridle.

  Ella drove south toward her parents’ place, half expecting no one to be at home. Instead, Clara raced out the door when her buggy wheels had no more than turned in the driveway.

  “We’re all home,” she said, dancing around in front of the buggy. “Eli and Monroe are sittin’ around in the living room.”

  That sounded like a good sign. Eli must not be too out of sorts if he hung around downstairs on a Sunday afternoon instead of in his own room.

  “So why are you out here helping me unhitch instead of the big boys?”

  “I told them to stay put and that I wanted to help you,” Clara said, smiling from ear to ear. “I saw you come from way down the hill.”

  “That’s awful nice of you,” Ella said, getting out while Clara pulled the tugs off her side.

  “Are you settled in your big house yet? I want to come over again, but Mamm won’t let me. There’s too much work around here.” Clara said, disappointed.

  “I expected that’s how it would go with me gone. But maybe you can come sometime later.”

  “Now you’ll have Preacher Stutzman’s girls, and I could help with that. Your big house needs me an awful lot, I think.”

  Ella laughed. “It sounds like you have more plans than I do or time to do them in.”

  “They all need to be done at your place. That’s the problem.”

  “Tell you what,” Ella said, unhitching her side and leading the horse forward while Clara held the shafts. “I know something you can do for me, something that can be done right here.”

  “Something Mamm will let me do?”

  “Yah, I’m sure. See, I have had an idea. I think a quilt shop in my basement would be a real nice business to start up.”

  “But how can I help since that’s over at your house?” Clara asked, wrinkling her face.

  “I’m not finished yet,” Ella said, holding up her hand. “See, you can draw some more pictures for things I can use on the quilts.”

  “Really?” Clara’s said. Her face instantly lit up. “I could even do that at school when I’m done with my lessons.”

  “See?” Ella said, smiling and holding the horse’s bridle. “If Teacher Katie asked you why, you can tell her. Say that it’s for my quilt shop, and she won’t mind at all.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Clara said, dancing again and causing little pieces of gravel to spin off and hit the buggy wheels. “Then I can make lots of drawings, and you can use what you like.”

  “See, things do work out,” Ella said, leading the horse into the barn and finding a stall for him.

  As the two turned to walk toward the house, Clara said, “Bishop Miller was here.”

  Clara’s words struck Ella like a stroke of lightning from the clear blue sky. “Here?” she gasped.

  “Yah,” Clara said, nodding soberly, “he talked with Eli a long, long time, and Mamm cried after he left. Daett looked happy, though.”

  “What did he say?”

  “They didn’t tell me. They are awful secretive about it. The Bishop took Eli down to the basement for the talk. You don’t think Eli’s getting excommunicated do you?”

  “No,” Ella said, feeling rattled. How did Bishop Miller know Daett wanted him to speak with Eli? Did Daett and Mamm tell him? Her mind swam with the rushed thoughts, and any answers only seemed to cause more problems than they solved. Clara held the door open for her, chattering away, seemingly unaware of the discomfort her words had caused.

  “Hi,” Dora said and then glanced at Mamm.

  They looked pleased, as if they shared a secret too good to mention. Ella wanted to grab Dora by the arm, march her upstairs, and demand an answer.

  “You have a good Sunday at the new district?” Her dad’s voice boomed across the room.

  “It was Aden’s district, so I knew most of the people,” Ella said, attempting a smile.

  “Sit down, then, and have a bowl of popcorn. Mamm can make some more. I have to do something for the occasion of my daughter’s return to the old home place,” Noah laughed, motioning toward the popcorn bowl. What in the world has put Daett in such good spirits? It wasn’t hard to guess, and Ella felt her heart pound with the tension.

  “Noah,” Lizzie said, but her voice had a tease in it.

&nb
sp; “Well, she’s come home again. Isn’t that an occasion?”

  “Yes, it is,” Lizzie said, but she didn’t look in Ella’s direction.

  Ella glanced at her dad’s face. He definitely had a twinkle in his eyes; more than what would be associated with her visit. Clearly her family was up to something.

  “I want to know what goes,” Ella said. “You people are up to something. The popcorn will just have to wait.”

  “You mean you don’t know?” Dora asked, gasping.

  Ella shook her head.

  “She doesn’t,” Dora said, rising from the couch. “Then I’ll tell her right now. She has to know what’s going on.”

  “No, you won’t,” Mamm said, standing to face Dora. “You sit right back down, Dora. I’ll tell her the news.”

  “I don’t think I like this,” Ella said in a voice barely above a whisper.

  “There are so many secrets around here,” Clara protested. “The bishop visits Eli, and now Ella doesn’t know. What next?”

  “You just keep your little head to yourself,” Dora said, shaking her finger at her. “Some things are just for grown-up ears.”

  “Then why do they happen in front of me?” Clara said, sounding rebellious.

  “You’ll have to ask Da Hah that,” Mamm said with her hand on the upstairs doorknob.

  “I think I’ll look to the chores,” Eli said, getting up.

  “It’s not time yet,” Clara said. “Why so soon?”

  “Then I’ll look to lookin’ after them. They’ll come soon enough,” Eli said, heading toward the front door.

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Daett said. “Now sit back down until chore time. Your Mamm will tell the story to Ella upstairs, and you’ll be just fine in here. Da Hah is doin’ great things for our family, and you don’t need to be runnin’ away from them.”

  “Yah,” Eli said, calmly sitting back down.

  Ella couldn’t believe her eyes. Her stubborn brother had just obeyed without protest. She turned to silently follow her mom up the steps.

  Twenty

  Lizzie had a look of deep contentment on her face as she sat down on Ella’s old bed, motioning with her hand for Ella to be seated.