“I think so,” he said, wondering what the young bishop would say of such theology. Thankfully he wasn’t here to venture an opinion.
“So you’re back?” Susanna said, coming out of the bedroom. “Thankfully Daett had a good night.” Seeing the girls, Susanna continued, “I thought you were taking the girls to Ella for the week.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “Something’s come up.”
“Something?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “I’m afraid you’ll have to explain better than that.”
Ivan gave a quick nod toward the girls.
“Why don’t you go up to the playroom?” Susanna said, bending over to smile at Mary. “You can take Sarah along since you’ve had breakfast.” She gave Ivan a quick glance, and he gave her a grateful look.
“We had eggs,” Mary said, “and bread with the eggs.”
“You go play for awhile,” Susanna said, holding open the door while they scrambled up the steps. Ivan set the baby on the couch that was pushed tight against the living room wall. It formed a protective corner and passed for a crib in the dawdy haus. A rocker stood beside it in the only place where there was room, the silhouette framed the front of the window.
“So what have you done now?” Susanna asked. “Surely you didn’t preach one of your sermons to her? Did she chase you out of the house?”
Ivan avoided her eyes. “The young bishop forbids this,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“The bishop?”
“Yah, I guess he was seein’ her, but I didn’t know.”
“Bishop Miller is seeing Ella?”
“Yah, I guess.”
“What has that got to do with takin’ care of your girls?”
“He doesn’t think its fittin’.”
Susanna’s eyes never left his face. “Did you also ask for her hand in marriage? I can’t believe you’d do something like that.”
“I did not,” Ivan said but knew his face blushed deeply under his beard.
“So the two of you are fightin’ over the same girl. Now I’ve heard everything. You preachers ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”
“I am not,” Ivan said. His voice was higher now, but his gaze remained on the floor.
“I told you last week to get the deal done with the widow Weaver. If you had done that, you wouldn’t be in this mess. Is that why you couldn’t ask her—why you’re going around and around with the matter? You really want to ask Ella for her hand, is that it?”
“I’m an honorable man,” Ivan protested, but he knew his struggle was all over his face.
“I didn’t say you weren’t. You have as much right to her as the bishop does. Whatever you want to do, just get off your high horse and do something about it.”
“It’s not right. You know that.”
“Takin’ a wife isn’t right? Of course it is. You’re needin’ one bad.”
“Ella,” he said, sensing the name almost choking him, “she is not right for me.”
“Now I’ve heard everything,” she said. “What will come of this, I wouldn’t know.”
“Nothin’ will come of it,” he said firmly. “The bishop told me I can’t take my girls to her, and I’ll listen.”
Susanna laughed. “I told him last night you were looking at some other option. So that’s why he was so interested in the matter.”
“You did?” he asked, meeting her eyes.
“Yah, so what?”
“I don’t know,” he said, suddenly glum again. What good is it? Even Ella—the gut woman that she is—can’t persuade the bishop or change his mind. He is known to be firmly set in his ways. “It’s not right. That’s all I can say.”
“Well, you two will get it figured out, I suppose. In the meantime, us womenfolk have to carry the load. I hope the young bishop doesn’t mind a piece of my mind the next time I see him. He can win his own battles without me carryin’ a share of the load.”
“You best not be speakin’ to him. Ella’s already gone over to try to change his mind. At least she said she would.”
“About this matter?”
“Yah.”
“You told her to speak with the young bishop?”
“I didn’t,” Ivan said, shaking his head.
Susanna put her hands on her hips. “So what will you do if Ella does come for the girls?”
“What is that question supposed to mean?”
“If you don’t know, then why should I tell you? Look, if the girl fights to care for your children—now that’s material for a wife, if I ever saw any.”
“It’s not right,” Ivan repeated and moved toward the door. “The bishop is seein’ her.”
“Why did the Lord wait till the last day of creation to make man?” Susanna said, throwing her hands up in the air. “He should have done so on the first day and given Himself some more time to straighten out the mess.”
Ivan let the screen door slam, making sure his fingers stayed out of the way this time. Outside in the yard he heard a horse’s hoofbeats on the pavement again, this time coming from the north, from the direction of Ella’s house. With an effort he didn’t look around. Once inside the barn, he couldn’t help himself and peered out through the cracks in the barn door. His beard was so close to the boards, the hairs caught in the cracks. He winced from the pain of the plucked hairs and watched to see who had come up the drive.
Outside, the hoofbeats had ceased, and Ivan saw why. The buggy had stopped, and Ella was climbing out. His heart pounded in his chest. So she did go to speak with the bishop. Did she obtain his permission? Does this mean what Susanna thinks it does?
He remained at the barn door. Duties in the hay field, his chores, horses, and wheat fields all seemed but dim realities beside what was about to unfold before his eyes. Ella had taken upon herself the care of his girls. Clearly it was an action far above the call of simple duty.
Ivan watched from his post. Ella knocked at the front door, and a welcoming Susanna opened it. He couldn’t hear what they said, but the screen door slapped behind them. He watched the spring on the screen door vibrate from the slam and then settle into its normal sag. He stood there motionless for a long moment, in which the world seemed to hang still, and waited for something to happen.
A fly buzzed past his nose and landed on his arm, and still he didn’t move. Behind him came the noise of the cattle in the barnyard. He heard their halfhearted, low moans and the slurps of mud as they walked through the muck, but still he waited. His heart beat hard in his chest.
The door at the dawdy haus opened again, and Mary came out first. Her little hands held open the screen door as Sarah followed, barely able to walk because of the bag she carried in her arms. He could see Ella next as she stepped out onto the porch, laughing and reaching for the bag in Sarah’s hands.
Sarah laughed then. Her face puckered up with sheer joy, showing her pleasure in every action. Behind them Susanna’s form appeared, holding the screen while Mary marched down the steps. With the baby in one arm, the bag in the other, and Sarah’s hands holding tightly to a fold of her dress, Ella came across the yard.
Ivan choked on his breath, and a gasp rose from his lips. He stilled the sound with force. This was the bishop’s girl and not his to think of, even if Da Hah would have no objections. He tore himself away and then stopped at the sound of Mary’s voice. “Are we going to your house?”
“Yah,” he heard Ella reply, “to my big house.”
“Are you are my mamm now?”
Ivan strained to hear the answer even though he knew only one answer could be given. Ella’s laughter filled the air. “I’m just takin’ care of you, dear, for the days during the week as long as your father wants me to. He’s probably lookin’ for a mamm for you right now.”
“I don’t want another mamm.” Mary’s voice rose higher. “I want you.”
What Ella said, he couldn’t hear. Her voice was too low. She lifted the baby into the buggy first and then attended to the two girls. Carefully
she untied the horse, her hands only off the lines for a moment as she climbed in. The buggy moved quickly out to the road and then vanished around the bend. With great horror, Ivan realized his hands were white as they clutched the barn door handle.
Twenty-four
Ivan drove the hay cutter. The click of the blade was loud in his ears. His three horses pulled steadily as streams of sweat ran off their bodies. He knew the time had come to give them a rest, but he drove on. He was distracted. Why didn’t my intentions work? Will God hold me accountable for this breach, this affection for Ella?
It seems there is but one thing to do. I must move on whether I want to or not. I must force myself to the act, even though my courage failed me last time. Today when the hay is done, it will be time for another attempt—another trip to ask for the widow Weaver’s hand in marriage. Ella has the girls, so there will be no need to tell Susanna. I can make the trip over to the widow’s place, return, and still be home in plenty of time for chores.
He was resolved to do this even though his heart sank. This will be a good marriage. Our children will get along well. They’ll be a perfect match—three girls and three boys. Nancy Weaver will make just the right kind of wife for me, a preacher. She is steady, sure, and gut. No, my heart won’t pound in her presence, nor will my hands grip barn door handles till they are white, but I will find a measure of joy with her.
The sweat streaks on the horses came into focus so suddenly he almost fell off the mower seat, jerking the lines so hard. One of the horse’s sides already quivered. What is wrong with me? Am I a man outside the will of Da Hah? No mistake about it. A loss of one of the Belgians would simply be too hard to bear, a sure smiting from on high, even if it is my own fault. The horses will have to be saved at all cost.
With great haste he unhitched the traces and walked the horses back to the barn. He left them to drink in the shade and ran to find a five-gallon bucket to dump water repeatedly over their backs. The one whose side had quivered, he paid extra attention to.
Ten minutes later, he was satisfied he had saved them, but what was to be done with the rest of the day? Now that he had overheated them, the horses would need more time to rest. There was danger in taking them out again. Yet the hay field needed to be cut today. Ivan’s mind raced for options. Two of the horses could probably work the rest of the day. The third, whose side still flinched at intervals, was out of the question. The horse could probably work tomorrow, but not today.
Perhaps I should leave now and call on the widow and finish the hay when I return. But that won’t help much, and a man ought to care for his farm duty first. Things like the search for a wife should come afterward.
The young colt was in the barn, not quite trained yet, but perhaps he could work with the colt. Quickly he pulled the harness off the troublesome horse, led him into the barn, and released him to his stall. The colt jumped when Ivan brought him out and let the leather straps fall across his back. He soon calmed down. To help things along, Ivan placed him between the two larger Belgians. The body movements of the two would guide him and keep mischief down.
Ivan drove up and down the field, allowing the horses to rest as soon as any sign of distress showed. The time taken was worth it because the only other option would be worse—dead horses. By two o’clock he was done, and there was still time left to make the trip to see the widow. He trotted the horses to the barn, pulled the harnesses off, and turned them out into the yard. In a rush, he caught the buggy horse and had him ready moments later.
Ivan climbed into the buggy, got the horse on the road, and attempted to collect his thoughts. Do I really want to do this? The question presented itself again. There still seems to be no other answer except yes. Given the circumstances, it has to be. He slapped the reins lest his courage fail him again.
Nancy is a wonderful woman. I should feel fortunate to obtain such a wife. That is, of course, if she will have me. We are both older and have been married before. He considered that his desire for Ella would fade from his memory soon enough as life moved on. Yet his heart hurt inside. He drove on, ignoring the pain.
The widow’s place lay bathed in the warm afternoon sunlight as he topped the hill and turned in the driveway. He couldn’t help notice that every board on the unpainted barn showed wear and every mud hole in the barnyard looked deep. Several thin cows turned to look at him, chewing their cud slowly. Clearly the widow tried to keep the farm in good shape, but the attempt must be hard with her boys still so young.
They could use each other, Nancy Weaver and Preacher Stutzman. Already the names sounded right together, and the young bishop surely would be happy to hear of his plan. With a deep breath, he climbed out, tied his horse, and walked up to the front door.
He knocked and waited. No one came, so he knocked again. The sound of little patters of feet came from inside, and the door opened. One of the boys, whose name he didn’t know, stood looking at him.
“Good afternoon,” he said, seeing the boy had questions in his eyes. “Is your mamm home?” he asked, trying for a warm smile.
The youngster nodded but offered no more.
“I’m Ivan Stutzman,” he said, hoping the boy would recognize the name.
“I will get Mamm,” the boy finally said, leaving the door open and disappearing into the house.
Ivan saw her coming to the door. She was a tall woman with an open face, much as he had remembered her. Her apron was dusted with flour, her hands had crumbs still on them, and her feet were bare on the hardwood floor.
“Oh, I didn’t hear anyone drive in,” she said, smiling a welcome but not offering her hand. “I hope James didn’t give you any trouble. He doesn’t talk much since his father passed.” She looked to the floor for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling the rightness of her pain. They were truly two souls caught in a common sorrow. “My girls are a little young yet, but I’m sure they remember as well. Lois is much missed at our house.”
She nodded. “But Da Hah knows best even when we don’t think he does.”
Behind her, James appeared and leaned against his mother’s side. She wrapped her arm around him and pulled him close. How is the rest of the conversation to proceed with the child around? He searched for words to say. “You still keep your farm fairly well?”
“We have to since someone has to support the boys—and myself, as far as that goes. Daett helps when he can. Next spring Amos should be old enough to work the fields. He’ll be eleven by then. It seems like a lot on a small boy’s shoulders, but Da Hah will give strength to bear the load, as he does for all of us.”
Ivan cleared his throat. He really needed to get back to his chores. He felt no emotion as he had with Lois, or as he would, he supposed, had this been Ella in front of him. Still, feelings or not, this was no time for doubts.
“Could I speak with you?” he asked with a slight motion of his head toward James, hoping she would understand.
“Go outside to the barn for a bit,” she said softly, and James immediately left. That much was good. The boy had been taught to obey.
The silence hung between them, and Ivan kept his gaze on the hardwood floor.
“It’s been some time now since Lois passed. Not too long, I guess, but soon enough. I have given this much thought. I know it’s not the first time for either of us, but Da Hah must have had His own plans.”
He glanced up to meet her eyes. “I thought perhaps…I could see you on Sunday night. Perhaps in the afternoon? I don’t know…since we’re not youngsters anymore. It’s not like we don’t know what this means or like we need a lot of time to make up our minds. Yet we should take some time—a short courtin’ time, perhaps.”
She smiled a weary smile, which summed up the situation. They were about their duty, and they both understood each other.
“I would be glad to say yes,” she said, her voice slowly wrapping around each word, “but I have already agreed to another man’s request for a visit. No, it’s more than that
. Mose Troyer spoke to me almost a year ago, and I asked for some time…for a woman’s heart heals slowly when she’s loved and lost a man. Mose kindly agreed and came back last week.” She suddenly looked so very tired to Ivan. “And I told him yes.”
“You are promised?” Ivan asked, hearing the sound of his own voice off in the distance.
“I am,” she said.
“But Mose,” he managed as the image of the older farmer became clear in his mind.
“I know,” she said, meeting his eyes. “It’s hard either way, but Da Hah will give grace. A woman can learn to love any man with time, I suppose. Is that not our people’s belief?”
He cleared his throat, noticing that his heart beat wildly. “That’s what they say. I guess I’ve never experienced it.”
“The boys need a father, and Mose is a good man. I’ve known him for years…even before his wife passed away ten years ago. I think he loved her deeply, and I trust there are no hard feelings between us.”
“There are none,” he said, suddenly feeling an unexpected joy. “May Da Hah give His blessin’s to the two of you.”
“And may He meet your need,” she said, smiling her weary smile again.
Ivan nodded and reached behind to find the door. In the yard, James had come back from the barn, and Ivan stopped to speak with him. “Sounds like you will have a daett again soon.”
“Shhh.” James said, placing his finger on his lips. “Mamm told us, but no one else is to know.”
“I guess not,” Ivan said, ruffling his hair. “I’m glad to hear it, though, but I won’t tell.” He walked toward his buggy. His feet seemed to almost float on the ground.
James still stood where he left him, watching him leave. The little fellow would grow up to be a gut little man. Ivan could still see him when he reached the top of the hill.
So she said no. Could this possibly mean that Ella could be mine? It was an awful forbidden thought and one he should immediately chase away. He took a deep breath, letting the emotion of it run all the way through him.
At least he had done his duty and was now free. Da Hah could have opened this door to the widow if that had been His will. Since He hadn’t, his desire to see Ella was no longer completely his fault.
Ella's Wish (Little Valley 2) Page 14
