Ella's Wish (Little Valley 2)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  She hurried to the door and pulled it open. “Ach, it’s so good to see you.” Quickly she gave her mom and then Clara a hug.

  As she pulled back from her hug, Mamm searched Ella’s face. Ella didn’t say anything but just wrapped her arms around her mom again, clinging to her for a long moment.

  “Is there bad news?” Mamm asked in the wake of the second hug. “Has there been trouble? Is Ronda makin’ trouble?”

  Ella shook her head. “Ronda couldn’t be sweeter. Da Hah has blessed me with havin’ her here. I can’t say how much I appreciate her.”

  “Then what is it? Somethin’s troublin’ you.”

  Ella shook her head. Now wasn’t the moment.

  “It’s this livin’ alone in this big house,” Mamm said. “I never did like the idea. You ought to have a man around like normal people do. I should have insisted on it before I ever let you leave.”

  “It’s not that, Mamm. Really,” Ella said, trying to smile.

  “At least you can smile yet,” Mamm said, sitting down on the couch and looking around the room. “Have you been workin’ too hard? Are you out of money? I see the quilt’s being worked on. Can’t you sell it? I know something’s wrong. A mother knows.”

  “I’ve sold two, Mamm,” Ella said. “It’s about other things. Perhaps later we can talk.”

  “I want Ella to see my drawings,” Clara said. “Show them to Ella—quick.”

  “I will,” Mamm said, lifting the first of the framed drawings from the paper bag she carried. She held them up for Ella to see. “Clara begged and begged, and so I finally allowed it. I suppose people might want to buy things like this. I must say the work is good enough.”

  “It is. It is,” Clara said, pointing to the landscape drawing of plowed fields and touching the barn and cattle in the distance.

  “I would say they are gut,” Ella said, reaching for the frame. “I’ll hang it on the wall and we’ll see what we can get for it. You can have all the money, Clara. It’ll make you a little extra to spend, yah?”

  “It best not be too much money,” Mamm said.

  “She sure can draw,” Ella said, still holding the framed picture. “We’ll just have to see.”

  “I’m so happy,” Clara said, picking up baby Barbara.

  Mary tugged at Clara’s arm and asked, “Can you tell me and Sarah a story?”

  Clara didn’t think too long. “Yah,” she said, taking Mary’s hand. With Sarah following, she walked over to the baby’s blanket by the quilt and nestled down with the three girls around her.

  “So tell me your troubles,” Mamm said. “Would they perhaps be about the bishop?”

  “What about Clara?” Ella whispered, glancing in her sister’s direction.

  Mamm shook her head. “Clara can hear, but I suspect she’s too busy to listen. Is there trouble with him?”

  “Preacher Stutzman asked for my hand in marriage,” she blurted out.

  “Preacher Stutzman? How dare he! Doesn’t he know about the bishop?”

  “He knows.”

  “Surely you have said no, Ella.”

  Ella’s silence was answer enough.

  “Has your heart gone toward him? The daett of the three girls you are taking care of?” Mamm asked, leaning forward on the couch.

  “Yes, my heart has gone toward the girls but not their daett,” Ella said. “They already call me their mamm.”

  “But you cannot let children decide for you. Marriage to a man is for life, Ella. You know that.”

  “Yes, I do. I know that. But I also know my heart is not drawn to the bishop. I fear him, Mamm. I’ve had dreams about our wedding—dreams in which I wake up in great terror. I don’t know why. In my dreams, I fear him. Yet he’s nice enough, yah, but that’s not enough.”

  “He loves you, Ella. I can see it in his eyes. Surely you have not told him you won’t marry him.”

  Ella shook her head.

  “Then why these fears?”

  “I don’t know. They come without being sought. They come in the nighttime when I least expect them.”

  “Has he spoken harshly to you or given you reason to fear him?”

  “Ach, nee. He has corrected me, yah, but even Ronda could understand that. I do things without thinkin’ at times.”

  “Then perhaps it’s nothing of concern. You can tell Preacher Stutzman you are already promised. You are, aren’t you?”

  Ella shook her head again.

  “This is not good,” Mamm said, pondering for a long moment. “Is your heart holdin’ back, then?”

  “It is, and then part of it is because I can’t forget Aden the way people seem to think I should. I can’t put aside what I felt for him. How can I let another man put his arms around me, Mamm? Only Aden has ever held me close.”

  “Then that’s what this is. You fear him as a man you do not know well enough to love yet. That will leave, Ella, when the marriage promises are made. Da Hah will see to it.”

  “But it wasn’t so with Aden. I looked forward to marrying him. I loved him before we were to be married. I wanted his love more than almost anything in the world. Why was he taken from me?”

  “Is this bitterness, then—a withholding of your mind against the will of the Almighty One?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ella said, meeting her mom’s eyes. “My heart is clear with Da Hah. I have blamed Him at first, yah, but I know His will is for the best.”

  “Then perhaps you just need time. Surely the bishop should understand that.”

  “Mamm,” Ella said, wondering how to explain, “you have to understand. Preacher Stutzman’s girls are the only reason my heart has opened to a man. Since Aden’s passing, they are the only reason why I have hope. Yet, I have told Preacher Stutzman that I don’t have feelings for him. That’s what’s so strange about this. In spite of not having feelings for him, I really am considering his proposal.”

  “You are sure of this? He preaches so harshly sometimes. He may be a hard man to be married to.”

  “Yah, he preaches hard, but he has another side to him. He even said he was sorry about the sermon he preached at Aden’s funeral.”

  Mamm raised her eyebrows. “I remember that. I remember hoping it hadn’t bothered you too much. Had you told Stutzman about this? Is that why he apologized?”

  Ella shook her head.

  “So the man isn’t playin’ with your heart. He doesn’t seem the kind to do so.”

  “I do know I don’t fear him as I do the bishop,” Ella said, “but neither do I love him, Mamm. Can marriage still be gut if you don’t love the man?”

  “Marriage is holy, Ella, no matter what our feelings are. Are you sure you have no feelings for the bishop? He loves you, you know.”

  Ella shrugged. “He’s attractive, but I don’t trust him. His face smiles, but his eyes don’t reach all the way to his heart. He seems far from me.”

  “Are you sure Aden hasn’t left you with too many dreams? He’s gone, Ella. Why it happened, we don’t know. But Da Hah knows best. You must not hang onto Aden. No man will ever be like him. You know that our women marry again. They take husbands after their loved ones have passed. They can’t expect another love to be the same as the one that was taken. You know that, Ella, don’t you?”

  “Yah, but I wish you could at least tell me what to do. It’s hard to figure out myself.”

  Mamm got up and glanced toward Clara, who was deep in whispers with baby Barbara and still busy with the three girls. Mary chattered away beside her. Gently Mamm wrapped Ella in both arms, kissed her on the forehead, and held her close.

  “Your heart has been broken, Ella. We try to understand, but only Da Hah really can. He’s the one who has borne our sins on the cross and can fully know our pain. You must trust Him. It’s not Aden who can give you direction, it’s Him from heaven. He cares about you…about your broken heart…about your tears. He really understands, Ella.”

  Ella allowed the comfort of her mother’s embrace to flow throug
h her, and then she wiggled loose with a sheepish grin.

  “Ach, Mamm, I’m not a little girl anymore,” she said.

  “I know,” Lizzie said, running her hand over Ella’s forehead. “I wish you’d have stayed small…that all of you had, so I could take care of your hurts. But now you are in Da Hah’s hands. I must trust Him too. You asked me if a woman can marry a man for whom she has no feelings. Sometimes a woman turns slowly to love. You may not love him until you belong to him. I know it was not so with Aden, but each man is different, Ella.”

  “Is the love for his children enough?”

  “It may be enough to begin on.”

  “That is my only hope,” Ella said. “Did you love Daett before you married him?”

  Mamm’s face lighted up. “Yah, he was a good man. I knew so from the start. He is not hard to love.”

  Ella nodded and dropped her gaze. “Am I strange, Mamm? I feel so…torn up. I don’t do things the same as the other women do.”

  “You are loved,” Lizzie said, stroking her forehead again. “In that way you are the same as the others.”

  Ella didn’t dare lift her head. “I love you, Mamm. You know that?”

  “Yah, I know. And all of you are precious to me.”

  “Did the bishop come over to speak with Daett or Eli?”

  Lizzie shook her head. “Not that I know of. I’m sorry Eli is makin’ trouble again. Daett has spoken with him, but he is very stubborn.”

  “He will come on Saturday, if he comes…”

  Mamm looked questioningly at her.

  “It’s just something I need to know,” Ella said.

  Mamm relented and said, “Ella, while we’re here, is there something Clara and I can do to help you? We have to be getting back soon, but we can give you an hour.”

  “No, I’m fine,” Ella said. “You have already given me plenty with your advice.”

  A smile played on Mamm’s face. “There is always work to do. Don’t tell me there isn’t.”

  “Well, there’s the quilt. Ronda and I could use some help with it, I suppose.”

  “Then let’s get to it. Clara can keep the girls busy. If you call Ronda, perhaps she can help too.”

  “I’ll check,” Ella said, taking the basement steps two at a time. She found Ronda upstairs in the kitchen with her cookbook open in front of her.

  “Your mamm left?” Ronda asked, looking up. “I didn’t hear her leave.”

  “Nee. She’s going to help with the quilt for an hour or so. We just wondered if you could help, but I see you’re busy.”

  “This?” Ronda said, laughing. “It’s for supper. It can wait for now, and I’d love to help.” She turned the cookbook upside down on the counter and followed Ella downstairs.

  “Are we taking you away from something?” Mamm asked.

  “Nothing that can’t wait,” Ronda said, pulling up a chair and finding her familiar spot with her needle already strung with thread.

  “So, have you and Joe settled in?”Lizzie asked.

  “I think so, but there really wasn’t that much to do. Mamm and Daett helped us move and got everything in order. Now if I can just keep things so.”

  “You’ll learn what works, as the rest of us did,” Mamm said

  “It’s all worth it, though, with Joe as wonderful as he is,” Ronda said. With a sly smile, she added, “And perhaps soon the bobli might be on its way.”

  Ella felt red creep up her neck at this plain talk.

  “That’s Da Hah’s way,” Lizzie said, nodding. “We love a man, we have children, and we grow old. Then we leave those behind who follow us onward.”

  Ella listened to their voices as a vision of Preacher Stutzman rose before her. His arms were outstretched as he thundered in his Sunday sermon. Would he make a good husband?

  Forty

  The week sped by quickly as Ronda and Ella worked on the quilt during every spare moment. The Stutzman girls were predictably easy to care for. And it was again with reluctance that when Friday arrived, Ella washed the girls’ clothes and packed their suitcases for the weekend at home.

  “Is Daett coming soon?” Mary asked.

  “Yah, soon,” Ella said, giving a weak smile. “You’ll be going home with him for the weekend, just like usual.”

  “Why are you not coming?”

  “Because I live here. This is my home.”

  Mary smiled and stared off into space. Ella paced the floor with baby Barbara in her arms. If Preacher Stutzman didn’t show up soon, she would place the baby on the blanket and work on her quilt some more. The house outline still needed stitches. They had rolled up the edges of the quilt on either side. Only a foot and a half was left exposed in the center.

  “Daett’s here now,” Mary said, making the announcement from the basement window.

  Ella jumped. There had been no rattle of buggy wheels in the driveway. Quickly she grabbed the girls’ suitcase, took Sarah by the hand, and went up the steps. She wanted to meet with him outside in case a conversation ensued. It would be best for that to happen—if it happened—away from the house and any listening ears. Not that Ronda would listen on purpose, but it might be best not to tempt her.

  Mary ran ahead of her, and her father scooped her up in his arms. “So how has my girl been this week?”

  “Gut,” Mary said, hugging him tightly.

  Ella walked toward them. Her smile looked as crooked as a barnyard mud trail.

  The preacher’s eyes were as intense as they were tender when they met hers. He nodded and then reached for Sarah, who ran the last few steps into his arms.

  “How are you?” he asked, giving her a hug.

  “Gut,” Sarah said in an imitation of her sister’s tone.

  “And the baby?”

  “Good as can be. Not a problem all week,” Ella said. The words tumbled out in a rush.

  “They have a good keeper,” he said, reaching for the baby.

  For the slightest moment, his fingers brushed hers, and she met his eyes.

  “I will have them back on Monday,” he said, laying baby Barbara on the seat of the buggy.

  Ella didn’t want to turn and leave, so she held his horse for him. It felt more appropriate doing that than just standing there or walking back to the house while he climbed into the buggy.

  The man nodded and offered a brief smile as he slapped the reins and she let go. Is this to be our ritual? Am I to hold the horse so he can leave with his daughters? She had done it twice now.

  She watched the buggy disappear around the corner. The sight of him was blocked out quickly by the woods, and the sound of his horse’s hooves faded into the distance. Turning toward the house, she walked slowly, thinking about so many things.

  “That was such a dear sight,” Ronda said, standing by the front door, “you holdin’ on to his horse. I could just see you in the buggy with him. You look so like you belong there.”

  “You weren’t supposed to be watching,” Ella said, making as if she would walk on past.

  “I really wasn’t,” Ronda said. “I just came to the door at the last minute. I thought I heard somethin’. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I felt nervous,” Ella said. “I think that’s why I hold his horse for him. It’s something to do while waiting.”

  “Ach, that’s a good sign,” Ronda said, laughing. “A real gut sign.”

  “It’s doesn’t feel like Aden…that I do know.”

  “They say it’s never the same the second time around. I know no one would ever be the same as Joe.”

  “I hope you never have to find out.”

  Ella watched Ronda nod slowly, sure she saw tears in her friend’s eyes.

  Forty-one

  Ella heard the bishop arriving long before he even reached the driveway. The evening was still, the air heavy, and his horse’s hooves beat hard on the road. A sharp rattle of stones sounded when he turned in at the road. Ella spread the last of the white frosting on the cake she had just baked and
scraped the knife clean on the bowl’s edge.

  She was unexpectedly calm. Perhaps this is another of Ronda’s gut signs. But what if he has been to see my parents and demanded that Eli no longer be allowed to stay at home? This is what he had wanted to do, and if he had followed through in spite of my objections, it will make the evening much more difficult.

  Yet, perhaps, it would be simpler. Dealing with the bishop is like walking on the edge of a wooden fence rail. The thin board presses hard on the soles of my feet, and the pull of gravity is strong on either side.

  A visit to my parents against my expressed wishes would show the bishop’s depth of character. Though I don’t want him to have made that visit, I have to admit such a visit would show that he is willing to risk our relationship to do what he feels is right. I would have to find some respect in my heart for that aspect of it.

  She got two plates and a knife out of the cupboard, set them on the table, and went to the door. The bishop’s shiny black shoes were already halfway down the basement steps. He was wearing his best Sunday suit coat. He had dressed up for her.

  Ella opened the door for him.

  “Good evening,” he said. “Am I too early?”

  She shook her head. “I just finished my cake. I would say you timed it pretty well.”

  “Ach, vell, such things happen. I’m glad to hear it.”

  She motioned with her hand toward the couch.

  He took his seat and said, “So the girls leave on Friday, and you’ve been by yourself all day. Is it a relief to get away from them after the stress, you know, of three little girls who aren’t your own?”

  “I suppose even mothers have such times with their own children,” she said, sitting beside him on the couch.

  “Then I imagine you must be ready to get away from them even more than real mothers. I must say, you don’t look tired. And I like that about you. You do all that work during the week—taking care of two little girls and a baby and running the quilt shop—yet you look as fresh as a bright new day. You are a very gut and wonderful woman, Ella.”

  Ella wondered why red didn’t creep up her neck. It certainly would have if Stutzman said such things, but then, of course, he wouldn’t. With a start, Ella shifted on the couch away from the bishop. For the first time, she was comparing him with Preacher Stutzman and leaving Aden out of the comparison. Have I really moved so far away from my memories? Apparently so.