Long moments passed, and Ella quieted her sobs. Surely it isn’t right to make such a fuss. Others have lost their loved ones, and they go on with life. They also marry again, some sooner than others, but almost all do eventually.
The bishop is a good man, and he needs a wife. Deep down, I need a husband. She wanted one with all her heart, but the one she wanted was Aden, who was no longer here. I need to just make the most out of this situation. A sensible and brave woman would do that.
Ella turned to go back inside. If nothing else, she needed to get some sleep. Life really would continue on whether she wanted it to or not. But now, suddenly she knew. Marriage to the bishop would include a consequence she hadn’t thought of before. I will have to leave the three girls alone and uncared for if I married the young bishop.
Surely someone else will take care of them until Preacher Stutzman marries. And he is already making such plans. The bishop had been confident of this, yet hadn’t Mark thought the same thing about the kitten—that it would be safe if he abandoned it? Will the girls be safe with someone else until Preacher Stutzman marries? She remembered the light touch of their heads against her side while they sat together on the couch.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “It wouldn’t be right until I know for sure.”
She felt better now with some resolution reached. This night’s excursion hadn’t been entirely in vain.
Ella walked back inside the house, but sleep was far away even though the alarm clock showed the time was past one o’clock. The very thought of dropping off to sleep was beyond her reach now. Sleepless nights must be part of the care of a mother, something that happened whether one wanted it or not.
Carefully she opened the cedar chest, extracted her journal, and took the lamp out to the kitchen table. If she wrote, perhaps sleep would come.
Dear Journal,
I had the dream again tonight. The bishop and I were about to get married, and I have no idea why that frightens me so. He’s a gut man, and Mamm and Daett think so too. Yet my nerves fail me. Why one should go by nerves, I don’t know. I never thought of myself as such a person.
I went outside to pray and to see the stars, and I thought surely I would be taken up into heaven, so real was the experience. I actually saw Aden’s face—in my mind, of course—but it all seemed so real. I guess it just shows how mixed up I am. How I do miss Aden. He must be so happy in heaven, and I am left alone down here. How can I ever marry another man? The very thought is simply beyond me.
Yet other women do. I know they do because I have seen them, and they are women who have been married before. Perhaps that’s what makes the difference. Maybe this would all be different if Aden and I had been married and if I had borne his children.
One thing I do know for sure is that Preacher Stutzman’s girls have already made for themselves a warm place in my heart. I will not abandon them before he marries again.
It’s strange how complicated a man Ivan Stutzman is. On Sundays he thunders in his sermons, and then when he talks to me alone the next day, he can hardly keep from staring at the floor. And the way he nervously turns his hat around in his hands, it’s like nothing the bishop does. Now there is a confident man.
I suppose most girls would fall all over themselves to just get a date with him, let alone a marriage proposal. What makes me so different? I guess I’ve always been different; at least that’s what Aden used to say.
I have plenty of work to do. Joe and Ronda will be here soon, and the house will be more than full, which is the way it should be. Hopefully having all these people here will help me move past my sorrow and provide support at the same time. I’d like to start on the quilt shop idea as soon as possible.
I wish God would just tell me what kind of life lies ahead of me instead of surprising me with all these unexpected turns. But then He wouldn’t be God, would He?
Ella shut the journal softly, picked up the lamp, went back to the bedroom, and set both on the dresser. Tomorrow the journal could be put away. Pulling the covers over her, sleep came quickly, and she slept soundly with no dreams.
Twenty-seven
With the white cloth base firmly attached, Ella stretched the quilt frame taut. It was a maneuver she often performed at home with Mamm. This was the first time she had tried it by herself. It was more difficult than expected, like the rest of her recent challenges, but somehow she would manage. She simply had to.
Beside her the baby wrinkled her face as if ready to burst into tears. Ella stopped stretching the frame but kept a hold of it. “Mary, talk to your baby sister,” Ella said, motioning with her chin.
Mary went over to her sister and after a moment reported, “She doesn’t want anything. She’s fine.”
“That’s good,” Ella said, giving the quilt another pull. The peg slipped into the hole on the frame, causing the quilt to stay taut, and she let go with a relieved sigh.
“Just keep talkin’ to her,” Ella said, “especially if she acts as if she’ll start crying.”
“I will,” Mary said, patting the baby’s cheeks.
She was such a darling—all three of them were—and they were all so easy to take care of. Perhaps this came from being tossed back and forth between Preacher Stutzman’s home and his sister’s home. Although such an experience could have hardened them to life, on the contrary it seemed to make them the sweet children they were, and how quickly the three had taken their place in her heart.
The basement was cool, even for a summer’s day. The large room really was the perfect spot for her quilt shop. Though she had only the one sample quilt finished, she felt compelled to open the shop and see what would happen. Hopefully, she would be able to sell customers on the idea of made-to-order quilts once they saw her handiwork.
Yesterday Ella had painted and hung her little sign, Ella’s Quilt Shop. The brush strokes had come easy, and the effect was pleasing, sort of personal, intimate, and reflecting her love of quilts.
As she considered what to do next, she heard the sound of an Englisha car crunch its tires on the gravel outside.
Already? A customer? Surely not! She walked over to the basement window for a quick glance outside, confirming there really was a car parked in front of the house.
Scarcely able to breathe at the idea of her first customer, Ella waited until she heard the knock on the upstairs door. She rushed upstairs, wondering how she should act in front of Englisha customers. She really hadn’t given it much thought. Will I really sell a quilt? Me? Ella Yoder? Take a deep breath. If I keep my hopes small, they won’t be dashed to the ground.
“Good morning,” Ella said, opening the door with a slight tremble. “Can I help you?”
The woman smiled broadly. “Your quilt shop. I saw the sign. Are you Ella?”
“I am. I’m just barely open. My shop is in the basement.”
“This is a lovely house,” the woman said. “It looks new. I left my husband down at one of your people’s furniture stores. We saw your sign earlier, but he didn’t want to stop in with me. Anyway, I’m Marie, and I’m from Maryland. We drove up yesterday and got the travel brochure the county puts out. It has all of the Amish businesses on it, but I didn’t see yours. You must be very new.”
“I am,” Ella said. “Let me take you down to the basement. We can just go down these outside steps, or I can take you through the house.”
“The stairs are fine, dear. All of you Amish are such wonderful folks. I just have to look at the quilts, and I’d love to take one home with me.”
“Well, I don’t really have much,” Ella said, holding the basement door open. “In fact, I just have a sample. If you like my work, I can make your quilt to order.”
“Then I’ll look at that,” Marie said, moving inside, sounding slightly disappointed.
“Here it is,” Ella said, motioning with her hand to her wedding quilt, now hanging on the wall.
“Oh, it’s lovely!” the woman said. She then saw the girls and said, “And your childre
n, how adorable they are! My goodness, you don’t look old enough—and three already. You people really are the salt of the earth. I wish we had more children. We only had the two, and now I regret I didn’t have a dozen. Old age does change your thoughts on the matter, and my husband agrees too, mind you.”
She then took a corner of the quilt and held it up. She released it and backed away to get a fuller view. After a moment, she said, “This really is quite good. I was so hoping to take a quilt home with me, but if you can make one close to this design, I’d be willing to wait and have you ship it to me when it’s finished.”
“Yes, that would be fine,” Ella said. “That’s what I’m hoping to do for my first customers. It will take me a while to have several quilts ready to offer. In fact, yours will take a little time. We made the sample quilt in our spare time. My sisters and mom helped.” Ella cleared her throat. Should I say something about the girls? The woman thinks they are my own. Should I correct her?
“Is this a picture of the house? This house?” The woman said as she took a closer look at Clara’s picture, now beautifully incorporated into the quilt.
Ella nodded, and the moment to say something about the children passed quickly.
“I thought so. What a lovely idea.”
“Actually my sister drew it. Clara is quite the little artist.”
“I would say so. Yes, this is just grand. I do want you to make one for me. Can you do something with some red and gold tones? That will match our bedroom nicely.”
“Yes, but,” Ella said, pausing, “I haven’t mentioned a price yet.”
“Oh, I assumed all the Amish shops charged about the same. The one I visited yesterday was very reasonable—around four hundred and fifty dollars, I think. Yours is nicer, though. Would that be a fair price?”
“Oh, yah, that is more than enough.”
“There would be shipping, of course?”
“Yah, I guess so. You’ll have to excuse me. This is my first sale, and I don’t know how to think of such things.”
“You’ll be just fine, dear, and I’ll take it,” Marie said, carefully running her hands over the quilt one more time.
Ella found her new bill book and said, “If you’ll fill out your address here, I can then ship the quilt when it’s done.”
Marie wrote in large letters, filling out the information on the page. “How long do you think it will take, dear?”
“A few months.” Ella said, hoping she wasn’t disappointing the woman. “Three months? Is that too long?”
“That will be fine,” Marie said, taking out her checkbook. “May I give you a deposit now and pay the rest when the quilt is finished?”
“Yes, of course,” Ella said, not having thought through the process. After all, this was her first sale, and so soon. Surely Da Hah was looking out for her.
Marie looked again at the sample quilt. “That drawing of the house is so nice. It seems very few of you Amish folks do any artwork. Has your sister done other drawings or even sketches? I would love to look at some and possibly buy one for my home.”
“Oh, yah, Clara is good at that.”
“You ought to have her draw some more. You could put her art up for sale here in your quilt shop. I know I’d buy some if you had them ready. I expect others also might. I don’t think I’ve seen any sketches in any of the places we stopped at so far.”
“We can’t draw pictures of people,” Ella said. “Any image of humans is strictly forbidden. It’s a very strict rule in our beliefs. We are not to show pride in the human person. That is an honor that belongs only to Da Hah Himself.”
“I know that, dear,” Marie said with a warm smile. “I meant of farm life, of course. Scenes. Why don’t you think about that?”
“I’ll tell Clara,” Ella said. “My sister does love to draw.”
“No sense squandering the gift God has given, that’s what I say. Now, I really must go,” Marie said, stooping down and stroking Mary gently on the cheek. “You girls are very sweet. You haven’t made a peep all the time I’ve been here.” Then turning to Ella, she continued, “My husband probably wonders where I got to. He should know better, though. Hah, once I get around quilts I’m lost, that’s for sure. It’s a good thing you only started up, or I’d be here all day.”
“Thank you,” Ella said, offering her hand. “I’ll get this made as soon as I can.”
Ella opened the basement door and listened to the retreating steps. She let out a sigh of relief. My first sale! She didn’t dare move until the tires crunched again on the gravel. Sitting down in a chair, Ella pondered what had just happened. Did I really just sell my first quilt or is this a dream? Did I promise too much? Can I make the quilt in the time I allowed?
Surely I can. This is for a customer, a person who paid me money—money I can hold in my hand and money to deposit in the bank in Randolph, I am on my way. I really can do this! Best of all, Da Hah approves. Why else would He bless my efforts so quickly?
“Who was that?” Mary asked, pulling on her dress sleeve.
“A nice lady who just bought the first quilt I’ll have to make.”
“She smiled at me,” Mary said, seeming pleased. Beside her Sarah smiled as she watched her sister’s every move.
Across the room the baby wailed, and Ella rushed over to pick her up. She grabbed the bottle on the table, and the baby quickly nestled against her, emitting the happy sounds of satisfied slurps.
“Just think,” Ella said out loud, “I just sold a quilt.”
From outside, the sound of disturbed gravel came again. But this time it clearly wasn’t from Englisha car tires. A horse and buggy had pulled in.
“Visitors again,” Ella said, but Mary was busy on the floor, her attention on her game with Sarah. They piled wooden blocks so high that the last one teetered on the edge and balanced by the merest chance against the pull of gravity.
“Don’t touch,” Mary said to Sarah as Ella went to the basement window again. She saw both Dora and Clara coming up the sidewalk and jerked open the basement door. Baby Barbara was still in her arms, but the bottle was left behind on the kitchen table.
“You have come to visit?” she hollered. “What about your choring?”
“Look at you,” Dora said, ignoring Ella’s question. “You look like a mother, I do declare, but then you always did.”
Ella pretended to groan but actually took delight in Dora’s comment. “And you, Clara, I’m so glad you could come.”
“We can’t stay for long,” Clara said. “Mamm consented to let us come, but we have to get back and do our work.”
“I think Mamm let us come so we could check up on you,” Dora said. “She pretends like she doesn’t worry about you, but I think she does.”
“Oh, that’s just Mamm. It’s not been that long yet,” Ella said. “Do come in. Come see my little quilt shop. And can you believe it? I just made my first sale!”
Twenty-eight
“What sold?” Clara asked, glancing around. She saw the quilt hanging against the wall. “You sold that one? You sold your weddin’ quilt?”
“No, of course not,” Ella said quickly, “but it was one just like it, only with reds and golds in it. The woman will wait till it’s made, and then I’ll ship it to her. Isn’t that something?”
Dora eyed Ella and said, “For someone who is having troubles, you’re doing awfully fine.”
“It’s not quite like it seems,” Ella said with a weary smile creeping across her face. “Do you really want my troubles? Do you want to trade places with me?”
“No, she doesn’t,” Clara said. “Besides, she has good news.” Then Clara realized it was news she had only overheard between Dora and Mamm. “I think it was something I wasn’t supposed to hear,” she said apologetically to Dora.
“You are the naughty one!” Dora said. “I see it’s best not to speak of any news at our house, what with all the people who hear it.”
“Then why’d you tell Mamm?” Clara said, stick
ing up for herself.
“What is it?” Ella asked. “And don’t be so gloomy. Clara said it’s good news.”
Dora’s face lit up. “Well, Norman talked to me after the singin’ Sunday night, and I told him yes—that I’d accept his offer.”
“She actually did say that,” Clara said, confirming her sister. “I heard her tell Mamm. Can you imagine that? I would have taken him right away, the first time he asked.”
“Oh, what do you know about boys?” Dora said. “See, us grownups know better. You shouldn’t act too eager in front of a boy, especially if he acts nice to you.”
“If he’s nice, then what’s wrong with that?” Clara asked.
Ella laughed. “Isn’t your plan a little risky, Dora? What if he didn’t come back and ask again?”
“I only took two weeks,” Dora said. “I think it was about the right amount of time to keep him waiting.”
“That’s not bad, I guess,” Ella said, picking up Sarah, who was pulling on her dress with both hands. Ella sat down with two girls in her arms now. “You do have good sense, I know, and I trust the way you handle Norman.”
“See there?” Dora said, turning her nose in Clara’s direction.
Clara glared back.
“You two aren’t getting on well since I’m not there to straighten you out, are you?” Ella asked.
“I don’t know about Clara, but the house just isn’t the same,” Dora said.
“Yah, and Dora’s too bossy,” Clara added. “She thinks she has to run things.”
“Someone has to,” Dora said. “It’s not like you’re old enough yet.”
Ella laughed again. “So when do you have to be back home? I’d keep you here all day and night if I could.”
“Just after twelve,” Dora said, taking Sarah from Ella’s arm. “Now tell us what we can do. We didn’t come over just to argue with each other.”
Ella's Wish (Little Valley 2) Page 16
