“Good evening,” she said, opening the door wider.
His blue eyes were intense and seemed to search her face. “Good evening.”
The man sure is confident enough.
“Am I early?” he asked. “I didn’t really set a time, but Da Hah says we are to walk in the light, same as He is in the light. It seemed right to come while the sun was still up. Yet there is honor and no reproach at all between the love of a man and woman. We must always remember that.”
“Yah,” Ella said, hoping the red in her neck didn’t spread up her face. She motioned around the room with her hand. “This is all I have. I guess we’ll have to sit on the couch.”
“You have not eaten, I see. I hope my presence won’t disturb your supper.” He removed his straw hat and held it firmly with both hands.
“I can eat now, if you don’t mind,” she said. Perhaps I am getting used to him. “Or I can wait till later, but I haven’t eaten since noon.” Where does such courage come from? With this much grace given, Da Hah must be for me and this relationship.
“Why don’t I eat a little with you?” he said, laying his hat on the floor. “I had supper, but your soup looks good. I have to see how you cook, now, don’t I?” He laughed softly.
“How do you know I didn’t take special care?” Ella asked, getting an extra bowl.
“I doubt it,” he said with a smile. “Your family has quite a few good cooks, from what I hear, and I don’t think your mom failed to teach you. Am I not right?”
Ella felt her neck grow red again. Why am I always embarrassed when he talks like this? Aden said much nicer things, and I don’t remember any redness, just the pounding of my heart.
“Depends on who you ask, I guess,” she finally said, not showing him her face. He likely read way too much into my reaction already and doesn’t need further encouragement. Besides, I need my courage.
“I think I’ll live with food like this…might even get fat on it,” he said.
This remark confirmed her fears. He was definitely looking at her as his future wife. She looked at the soup bowl. How am I going to eat my soup now with my stomach churning and the memory of my dream racing through my mind like ghosts returning to haunt me?
“I saw your sign for the quilt shop,” he said, holding out his bowl as she ladled soup into it.
“Yah,” she said, dipping what was left into her own bowl.
He cleared his throat. “I thought perhaps you didn’t think this through all the way. The sign is a little on the edge…I was thinking this could cause trouble for our people and the Ordnung.”
“Trouble? My sign could cause trouble?”
A smile filled his face. “I see you’re innocent, which is understandable. I’m sure you just didn’t think of the sign in quite the way I would. Perhaps it’s because this is your first time with a business. I’m sure you’re more than willing to correct the problem.”
She met his eyes. What is the man talking about?
“I thought so,” he said with an even wider smile. “Anyone could make the mistake. Although I must say I am a little surprised, perhaps even a little disappointed.”
“I don’t understand,” Ella said, finding her voice.
“Our people,” he said in a voice that resonated against the basement walls, “they believe in humility, a bowed walk before Da Hah and His Word. This befits us and our way of life. This is how we have been taught by our forefathers to live. Many of them gave their lives for the faith.”
“Yah?” Ella said. The man sure can make a lot of words. They flow off his tongue like he has them stored up in abundance.
“Your sign shouldn’t mention your name. Really, it shouldn’t. It reads, Ella’s Quilt Shop. This is not fitting at all. But I’m sure you’ll agree and are willing to change the sign as soon as possible.”
“My name,” she said, vaguely comprehending. “I hadn’t thought about how that would look. Not in such terms. I thought the name might bring in more customers and sort of make it personal.”
“That is understandable,” he said, allowing his smile to fade a little, “yet it does seem as if you have placed a lot of thought into this. I had hoped it wasn’t so. I had thought perhaps you had made the sign—how can I say it—sort of by accident. But this doesn’t sound as if you have. You must have thought about it. I must say I am a bit disappointed. You do come from a good family, though, and I’m sure your father has taught you about humility.”
“He has,” Ella said, forgetting her soup. “I’m sure this is not Daett’s fault. Perhaps my inexperience is to blame, but certainly not his. I will paint my name off the sign even tonight…if you so wish.”
“That’s not necessary,” he said, seeming to relax. “Like I said, we are all human and prone to error—all of us, even those who are called to lead the people. A wife of such a man should have the same expectations but also the same weakness, I suppose. You are willing to take correction, for which I am grateful. This is a good sign of humility. Those who do not receive correction, well, it is hard to keep hope for such. They are prone to greater and greater error…and are almost impossible to turn back toward the good.”
“Yah,” Ella said, dropping her head when his eyes searched her face. What is wrong with the man? I did not expect this condemnation, this weight of guilt, over such a small matter. Daett would often bring correction—to all the children—yet this was not like Daett’s correction.
“I’m sure it won’t happen again,” he said.
Ella looked up at him. “I would have changed the sign quite willingly. That’s all you would have had to say.”
“Perhaps. But it’s good to search the heart, even as Da Hah does with all His people. Sometimes we spend too much time with the fruit of the tree and not with the root. The root is where all things spring from and is the source of the matter. Our people gave us a great root—over five hundred years ago—from which we have sprung up. They gave up their lives for the faith, and with their blood and their testimony, they sealed their witness. It is this root we must strive to be like. We must, like them, seek to be a humble people who walk the earth as obedient servants of the most high God. All of us should be pilgrims and strangers in this land.”
Ella nodded. The soup bowl was cold between her hands, but the bishop didn’t seem to notice. His own bowl was already empty. When did the man eat? I can’t remember seeing his spoon going to his mouth.
“The Scriptures,” he said with an intent look on his face, “they speak of a virtuous woman—one whose price is far above rubies. Such a woman brings honor to her husband. She brings grace into his home and rears godly children. It is for this woman I have prayed and longed for, Ella. You know that. Surely you do. This is the desire of my heart, and I believe Da Hah has finally allowed me to be satisfied with you—after all these years. He has brought me a wonderful woman. Perhaps you can understand my disappointment in your actions. It’s not that serious. Yah, perhaps not really. But one must deal with what is at hand. I am glad to be able to speak with you on this matter, and I am glad you are willing to correct it.”
“I am sorry I have disappointed you,” she said as the words caught in her throat. “I’m not perfect.”
“Yah, none of us are,” he said.
He obviously meant to comfort, but the words clamped around her heart like frozen blocks of ice. Forbidden thoughts sprung to her mind. They were thoughts she knew she shouldn’t harbor, but it was already too late.
She saw Aden, as clearly as if he stood in front of her, with a gentle smile on his face. “You’re lovely Ella,” he whispered. “Almost perfect. And the little leftover part…is the best of all.” He had said the words down by the stream and beside the little bridge where the water ran the fastest. He said them on the Sunday afternoon he drew her to him and tightly embraced her. His lips were gentle in their kiss.
“Have I said something, perhaps? Something out of order?” the bishop asked. His voice reached her through the fog. “You don
’t look well.”
Her face was pale as she looked away. What would he think if he knew what I had just remembered? “I was just troubled.”
He pulled his chair closer, took her hand, and wrapped his fingers tightly around hers. “Your sorrow is befitting,” he said gently. “I must say I am deeply touched. Da Hah has indeed given me a virtuous woman. Yes, you are human, but then we all are. We are all given to mistakes. I make them, and so will you. Yet, with this repentance you show, well, no man could ask for more. I would like to marry you soon, Ella. As soon as possible. I need a wife.”
Is the man pressuring me already—just after the correction he gave me? “But I must have time,” she whispered.
“You are twenty-one,” he said as he searched her face. “I’m not young anymore. You are what I have waited for all these years. Why should we wait, Ella? There is no need. Enough time has already gone by. As much time as is necessary since Aden’s death. Even by the measure of our people it has. Is more than the sorrow, perhaps, holding you back?”
Ella was still unable to look at him. She shook her head in silence.
“Then you have moved on…as it should be. Perhaps even more healing will still come…with the love that you and I will share. Is this not Da Hah’s way, Ella, for you and me?”
“I have to take care of Preacher Stutzman’s girls,” she said, getting the words out.
“Stutzman’s girls? Anyone can take care of them. I’m sure his sister Susanna can—at least for some time. Both she and Stutzman will understand when they hear of our plans. Everyone will understand. Other than Susanna, there are many of his relatives—perhaps younger ones—who can take over the care of his girls. I also believe Stutzman himself has a wedding coming up and perhaps soon. There is no reason for further delay, Ella. None at all.”
She knew she shouldn’t speak it, but the words came out. “Preacher Stutzman isn’t gettin’ married. Not anytime soon.”
“You know this?” he asked, speaking the short words abruptly.
Ella nodded. “He told me.” Again, she knew she was speaking out of turn, and yet she could not do otherwise.
“Ivan told you himself?”
“Yah.”
“Why would he be speaking to you on this matter of his marriage? I don’t understand. This is not an appropriate thing to speak of with an unmarried woman—especially one who isn’t his relative.”
“It was not so intended,” Ella said, remembering how she insisted he find a good mother for the children. Clearly those words would also be misunderstood by the bishop if I were to say them.
“You defend him, Ella? Ivan is not a very tempered man. He’s much subject to emotions,” the bishop said. Then, after a silence, he continued, “Surely you don’t feel your heart drawn to him. I would expect better of you. You belong with me. You belong as Da Hah has willed it.”
“My heart is not drawn to him,” she said, “but I’m sorry I have disappointed you again.”
“You only disappoint me in your defense of him…and in what seems a very inappropriate conversation with the man about his marriage. This is not the way of our women.”
“Perhaps…” She spoke slowly but with a strange sense of deliberation. “Perhaps, I am not meant for this…to be your wife. It is true that Aden still keeps a place close to my heart. I’ve not made a secret of this with you or with anyone else. A single life is not outside of my wishes.”
“I cannot consent to such a thing.” He said the words quickly. “Never have I seen a woman I loved so much. You are what Da Hah has willed for me. Of this I am certain. We must not let such little trouble come between us. Especially on this first night. You have been so troubled. You have not eaten your supper yet.”
So he did notice. “It can wait,” Ella said, brushing the air over the bowl of soup. Fueled—and surprised—by her own boldness, Ella began again, “I must be clear about this matter relating to the care of Preacher Stutzman’s girls. Their care will continue and will be done by me. That is until the man marries or he changes his mind about the need for my help. I care too much about the girls to back down on the subject.”
“But this is unreasonable, Ella,” the bishop said, “and I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. You and he surely speak together often. Such an appearance is very inappropriate, to say the least. What will people say?”
When Ella didn’t have an answer, the bishop said, “I’ll tell you what I will do. Next week I will speak with Ivan about this matter. He will understand and can then find someone else to take care of his girls.”
Ella took a deep breath. The words would have to be spoken. “If you do that, then you might as well forget about marrying me.”
“Oh,” he said, looking as if she had thrown a bucket of sink water over his head.
“It’s your choice,” she said. “I love those little dears. They are precious, motherless girls. It’s not right to throw them around in circles from one person to another. Preacher Stutzman will marry eventually. Then I will be free. You have waited this long. Perhaps you can wait longer. It will also give me more time to heal from the loss of Aden. It might be for the best anyway.”
“I do not agree,” he said, “and I think it’s very inappropriate, but your care for his girls is touching. It shows your tender heart, and in this I can see virtue. For that reason alone, perhaps I should consider it—if you assure me there are no feelings between you and Ivan.”
“I have already said there are none on my part,” she said, finally looking at him as she spoke.
“And his feelings toward you?” he asked. His eyes blazed.
“I have not spoken to him on the matter,” she said. “It would not be seemly.”
“Has he given you cause to think he cares for you? Has he asked for your hand in marriage?”
Ella laughed. “No, he certainly has not.”
The bishop settled back in his chair. “One never knows, even with our own people, what they will do. Some do inappropriate things—even men like Ivan—because in the matters of the heart, only Da Hah can know them. Like a serpent on a rock, says the Holy Book, so is the way of a man with a maid.”
“You will not speak with him, then?” Ella asked.
“I make no promises,” he said, folding his hands.
“It would be best not to speak to him,” she said firmly, making sure her meaning was unmistakable.
Silence fell between them, and then he sat straight up in his chair. “Your supper. I have kept you from it with my talk. What sort of man am I?”
“It’s okay,” she said weakly.
“It’s not—most assuredly not. Supper is no longer to be kept from you.”
With that, he sprang to his feet, grabbed her soup bowl, and took it over to the stove. With expert care he fanned the fire that had died down to embers, stoked the ashes, and proceeded to reheat her soup. “I wasn’t a bachelor all these years for nothing,” he said with a grin. After a couple of silent minutes, he said, “There, now. Nice and warm, are we. And the bread, I will warm it over the oven.”
“You are good,” she said as she took the first spoonful.
“Not at all,” he said, brushing off the compliment with a wave of his hand. “Soup isn’t so hard to warm up.”
“Do you want some more?” she asked. “There’s plenty.”
“I had enough, so I’ll just watch you eat.”
“That doesn’t help,” she said. The red was creeping up her face again.
“Well, then,” he said, laughing, “let me tell you a story.”
“Yah,” she said. Anything! Just stop watching me.
“Last week one of my cows got out of the pasture. It’s the usual rowdy one,” he said, smiling warmly. “She always looks for the way through the fence and seems to find it when I’m not looking or when the barbed wire has gotten even the slightest bit loose. She finds it—always does. And she’s my best milker. She drops heifer calves every year, as dependable as can be, so I don’t ever consid
er taking her to the sale barn.
“Anyway, she got out on the road again by pushing the wire back with her neck. I didn’t notice anything amiss until a car in the road blew its horn. I had to leave my team in the middle of the field to tend to the problem. The nice man and lady in the car were tourists who seemed amused to find an Amish cow—by their description—out in the middle of the road.
“They helped me get the cow back in. They said they used to be farmers before they retired in Florida, and I could believe it. After we got the cow back safe and sound inside the fence, they stayed and chatted. I watched the horses out of the corner of my eye the whole time, but they didn’t move, as good as gold they were. They probably were thankful for the long rest.”
Ella finished the last bite of her soup and waited for more of the story. When nothing more seemed to be coming, she said, “Why are you telling me this? Am I missing the point?”
“Just that I suspect you’re a little bit like that cow,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re not quite willing to be content until you see what’s on the other side.”
Rather than press the point, Ella simply smiled and decided she might as well change the subject to her concerns about Eli. She didn’t want him to leave without knowing what had been happening with her brother.
“Eli’s in trouble again,” she said, noticing the bishop didn’t look too surprised. “Dora thinks he’s seen the Englisha girl again. I don’t know what gets into him. We all thought your talk had done him so much good, but Eli’s always been that way—stubborn.”
The bishop spoke slowly. “I’m disappointed…but not too surprised. This is a serious matter. It’s of grave concern for one of our boys to see an Englisha girl. Sure, the Englisha are good people. They have their own way with Da Hah, as we have ours. But the two must be kept separate. They cannot mix, Ella. I’m sure you know that.”
“I do,” she said, “but we always have our wild boys.”
“I see you defend him,” he said, smiling. “I guess it’s because he’s your brother. Perhaps that blinds you to the seriousness of this matter. Yah, we have our wild ones, those who push the fence during their young years. But to love an Englisha is very wrong, Ella. We tempt Da Hah Himself with such a sin. I will speak with your father about this matter. I think perhaps it would be best if Eli left home until he repents fully of his error.”
Ella's Wish (Little Valley 2) Page 22
