“Did I say something?” the bishop asked. “This is true, you know, that you are an exceptional woman among women, as the Good Book says. Like I have said before, I never expected the day to come when I would say such a thing. You must not let the praise alarm you. Surely Aden told you the same?”
“He did,” she said, moving even further away from him, “though not in those exact words. It was different somehow.”
“Yah, I understand,” he said, nodding. “Yet you must not let this difference stand in the way of our relationship. Da Hah can bring about love again—in a different way perhaps—but something just as precious. He would not have taken Aden if He did not know that life could still be just as good for you, Ella, as it was before. You must believe that—believe that a woman should take a husband. That it is Da Hah’s villa.”
“Did you speak with my parents about Eli staying at home?” she said, letting the words out quickly.
He studied her for a moment. His face darkened, and then a smile reappeared. “So you did expect me to rush over to your parents and, thus, give you reason to hold something against me. You should know me better than that, Ella. I wouldn’t do something so out of order. Not after you said what you did.”
“But you still feel as if Eli should not stay at home?”
“That is another matter entirely, Ella. You told me not to go, and I have not gone. Is that not good enough? I listened and heard what you said. I simply felt that at this time it would be best if the matter was left alone.”
“And would you listen to me about this matter…if we were married?”
His hand jerked on the couch and joined the other. As he rubbed them together, he said, “Yah.” He paused and then continued, “Perhaps I should explain. My work for the church often calls for hard choices. Sometimes things might even go against one’s own family. It’s not easy, and the calling is sacred. I am sure you understand that. But for now, I can do what you say—if it makes things easier for you. Then perhaps later…it will not be as hard.”
“Then this is just for a time. Until later—when someone like Eli would be dealt with in another manner than he now is?”
“Perhaps,” he said as he laced his fingers tightly together, “but you must not hold that against me. I do not want to offend you now. Have you changed your mind about Eli? I would respect you for that change…greatly in fact. This is a weakness in you, Ella. I know Eli is your family, but one must put that aside to do the work of God. Our forefathers left their property and their loved ones—even their own lives—all for the faith. We cannot do less than they did, Ella. We really can’t.”
“If you believe that, then it would have been best if you had gone to my parents and spoken with them.”
“So you have changed your mind, then,” he said, letting a smile warm his face. He wet his lips. “I cannot say how glad I am of this. I had some doubts about you, Ella, but I see again you are able to receive correction. As you know, this virtue is greatly valued among our people. It’s also a virtue of great value in a wife.”
“But I didn’t mean that I have changed my mind,” Ella said, clearing her throat. “In fact, I have not changed my mind about Eli, even if it comes to him leaving the home place, which it well might. I just think it might have been best if you had gone anyway…even though I told you not to. This way I could have decided better about what I think of you. Now it has been decided for me.”
“I don’t understand,” the bishop said, leaning forward. “What has been decided for you? I do not see. You expressed your concern, and I tried not to offend you. Yah, perhaps later you will understand these matters, but you do not now.”
“Our relationship. I cannot continue. I fear it.”
“You fear, but there is nothing to fear, Ella. I have told you the truth, have I not? Many would not have. Perhaps they would have held back part of the truth from you. I hope our people would not do such things, but one never knows in this day of sin and darkness. I love you, Ella, as I have never loved any other girl. Yah, never have I loved so much. There is nothing to fear from me. Da Hah will be with us. He has promised.”
“I’ve had a dream about us,” Ella said, meeting his eyes. “In this dream I see a wedding. The buggies are parked outside, the people are gathered in the house, and then when I come inside, it is you and me. We are seated in front, ready to be married. Then a great fear comes upon me, and I don’t know why.”
“Ah, so it is a dream that holds you back,” the bishop said, looking relieved. “I had thought it was some other thing. Perhaps Stutzman or his girls have gotten to you. I had hoped you wouldn’t fall for the charms of his children. You must not make that mistake. This dream, though, I would think it is a good sign—a gut indication that Da Hah has willed it so and has shown you ahead of time. You must take comfort in this—not fear.”
Ella stood. This is so hard. “I find in my heart that I can’t continue seeing you. I’m sorry if I have disappointed you,” she said.
“Ella,” he said, rising to his feet. His hands reached out, grasping both of hers in his. “Ella, don’t make this mistake. There is no one else I want to marry. I need a wife…and not just any wife. Look at what life could hold for you…for us. I will treat you right, Ella. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I have my mind made up,” she said firmly.
“You are serious?” he said, dropping her hands. “And there’s nothing I can say?”
“There is nothing.”
“Stutzman has spoken to you. He has asked your hand in marriage.”
“Yes, he has.”
“And you have given him your answer?”
“No.”
“Then you looked for a fault in me and searched this out on purpose to see whether I would fall and stumble in your eyes.”
“Perhaps I did. I don’t really know.”
“This is not the proper manner in which one finds a husband, Ella. Stutzman should be held accountable for this.”
“Even our people do not hold it against a man who follows his heart in love, do they?”
The bishop relented. “They do not. Do you love him, then?”
“Is this not a matter between him and me?”
“It is, yes, but your face betrays you, Ella. I know you do not love him. And I know I love you. Are you sure you will not reconsider?”
“I’m sure,” Ella said, holding his gaze.
“Then Da Hah’s villa be done. It is not in me to stand in the way of what is to be. Just be sure of this, Ella. Look carefully about yourself and not just at your fears. Perhaps you will yet see the right way before it’s too late. Once you have made the promises, it will be too late to change your mind. Remember that, Ella.”
“I will,” she said as the bishop walked to the door, opened it himself, and stepped out into the night. His buggy wheels rattled on the gravel a few minutes later. She stared blankly at the untouched cake on the table. Did I just make an awful mistake? Did I drive a wonderful man of my people away? Now surely Eli will receive no more help from the church. He is as good as lost.
Ella sat down. Slowly she took the fork, cut a piece of cake, and brought it to her mouth. It softly melted on her tongue as her thoughts settled on the truth.
I’ll live alone in this house if it comes to that. If Preacher Stutzman and I can’t make a go of it, I’ll be just fine. It can be explained to the girls that things couldn’t be worked out. They might understand, and they might not. But whatever happens now, I’ve brought it on myself.
She set the fork down on the tabletop, making the metal rattle lightly on the wood, and then lowered her head onto her arms.
Forty-two
Ella sat in church and listened to the main sermon. As decided in the earlier ministers’ conference upstairs, it was Preacher Stutzman’s turn to preach. He now stood between the living room and kitchen with his hands clasped on his chest. From where Ella sat, surrounded by the other single girls, she could see only the side of his face. It was
better that way; a small gift from Da Hah. Had she sat facing him, perhaps their eyes would have met. He then could have seen her answer in her eyes and wouldn’t have been able to continue preaching.
He was now in the middle of a story about Queen Esther. “And after the terrible day arrived when the wicked Haman got it into his head that all the Jews of the kingdom must be destroyed…”
Wherever he intends to go with the message, it isn’t unusual as Amish sermons go. What’s unusual is his tone. Already he has passed several points in the story that provided excellent opportunities for his usual diatribes. Yet he missed them. Has anyone else noticed? Did I really see the bishop glancing strangely at Stutzman? Twice already?
The bishop looked comfortable and well settled on the bench. His back was bent, his shoulders drooped, and his long beard was bent at a forty-five degree angle to his chest. Stutzman was now at the place in the story where Mordecai had to make a choice. Would he bow at the gate to the evil Haman or not? Preacher Stutzman paused and took a deep breath. His eyes were focused on the hardwood floor.
“So Da Hah has called each of us to make a choice. Will we serve Him or will we serve the world? Will we bow to the god of this world, or will we bow to the will of Da Hah in heaven? Will we submit to the will of His church on this earth? Many are the temptations we face. They come and go, and each of us makes daily decisions as to how to respond. Let us all be like Mordecai, who feared not the wrath of evil, but obeyed the Lord.” Stutzman took a deep breath, and his voice rose higher. “Each of us can count on being caught for our sins. Men and women think they can hide…that they are smart enough to escape punishment. Yet we see from this example that things do not turn out so. Da Hah sees to it that sin has its reward—a reward of death and not of life.”
The bishop nodded his head vigorously. The sermon came to an end, and the preacher asked the bishop and two other men to give testimony. The men’s voices droned on, and then the final song was announced and sung.
Ella got up to help with serving by taking bowls of peanut butter to the women’s table. That was about all she could handle today. Thankfully no one directed her over to the men’s table.
Moments later the bishop announced the closing prayer for those eating, and the tables cleared out. Quickly the girls moved down the sides, washing the utensils and rinsing out the coffee cups. The tables began filling again. Ella waited, saw that there would be room, and slid onto the bench.
“So how are the Stutzman girls doing for you?” Aden’s mamm asked from across the table. “I heard you are taking care of them.”
“Gut,” Ella said, clutching the peanut butter sandwich in her hand. “They are little angels.” What would Aden’s mother say if she knew? Would it bother her to know that two men now wanted to take the place in her heart so long held by Aden?
“I can imagine they are,” Aden’s mamm said. “They can use a gut mamm again.”
“Oh, I just take care of them during the week,” she gasped, glancing at the sandwich as the peanut butter ran over the edge and dripped onto the tablecloth. What a dummkopf I am.
Ella wiped the peanut butter off the tablecloth. It could happen to anyone, but today it had to happen to her. She glanced up, but Aden’s mamm had turned to someone beside her and was now deep in conversation. Soon the bishop would announce prayer again, and she could get out of here. It wouldn’t be a moment too soon. Perhaps next Sunday her nerves would be more under control. Surely things had to get better.
“Now that we have eaten, let us pray,” the bishop said with a clear voice that carried all the way through the house.
Ella bowed her head and waited through the prayer. When it ended, she rose quickly and moved toward the front utility room to collect her bonnet and shawl. A few women nodded at her as she squeezed through the kitchen. She found her things and opened the utility room door. With her shawl wrapped tightly around her, she approached her buggy. Now how am I going to get my horse from the barn? Will any of the younger boys offer, or should I just go myself? The men sat on benches out under the big trees, but no one seemed to be looking in her direction. I’ll go and get the horse myself. It is better that way.
Just then the barn door opened, and the young bishop came out, leading her horse. What is he up to? What might people think? Didn’t my words last night take hold? She grabbed the buggy shafts and lifted them high.
“Good afternoon,” he said, swinging her horse in place.
“Good afternoon,” she said as cheerfully as she could.
“I can still be nice to you,” he said, pushing the tugs on, “with the hope you’ll reconsider.”
“I won’t reconsider,” she said, meeting his eyes as she climbed into the buggy.
He nodded and held the bridle until she was settled in, and then she slapped the horse lightly on the neck. Holding the reins tightly, Ella steered past the bishop. He has some nerve, but that’s just the way he is.
When the alarm clock shrieked its fury in the early morning darkness, Ella pushed the covers back and crawled out of bed. Although there had been no dream about the bishop last night, she slept fitfully. No doubt it was because today was the day she would tell Preacher Stutzman her answer.
That I will marry him? No. That is too much. Just that I will see him? Perhaps whenever he wishes? Something like that. After the bishop, Saturday nights don’t seem appropriate. Perhaps we could have an understanding between ourselves and maybe agree at first to something like little chats when we see each other while out and about. Maybe my heart will have time to make a decision if it’s not rushed.
Ella dressed and went down the stairs, stepping outside to reach the basement. Already the late summer air had a brisk feel to it. She paused to look toward the sunrise. The sky had no color and held no clouds. Only the first rays of the sun’s white light burst over the horizon in bold streaks.
Where has the summer gone? One day follows another so quickly. Do the years do the same? Will marriage come that quickly? Will one bobli be born, only to be followed by another and another—mine and Stutzman’s children—until we are old and gray? Is that how it will be?
Will Aden be there on the day my eyes close and I cross over the river? Will Aden look the same? How will I speak with him after things have turned out so differently than we had planned? Surely he understands that the best must be made of things and that life does, indeed, go on.
As for loving again, do I even dare after having loved so deeply? Ella brushed back the hair from her face. The faith expressly speaks that such a thing is allowed after a death separates a man and a woman. Perhaps I can learn to love again—with time and patience. Preacher Stutzman—no, I might as well call him Ivan now. Ivan might understand and be patient with me. I will simply have to see.
With one last look at the sky, Ella walked down the steps, careful not to trip in the faint light. The girls would have had breakfast before they arrived. Ivan is a gut father—there is no question about that. Surely he will be gut to me also. She rubbed the goose bumps on her skin.
She struck a match, and after moving the kindling into place, the fire caught easily enough. Ella then lit the kerosene lamp. Its flickering light danced on the quilt and accented each thread, creating a quick flash here and there.
She drew in her breath. Da Hah loves me. Signs of this are everywhere! I can see it in Ronda and Joe—my friends—living in the rooms above me, the quilt shop with new orders already, the matter with the bishop resolved, and the house itself. So easily everything could have failed, and I would have been forced to move back to Seager Hill. Yet failure was not my lot.
Now there are three little girls who cast the light of joy in my life, and add to that their father. Can I love him? Perhaps a quiet settled love would have to suffice, and I can only hope for more. Is Ivan willing to wait with patience…even if the love never comes?
Ella heated the water for her oatmeal and stirred in the flakes when it boiled. She cut a slice of bread, spread it with butter
and jam, and then dipped out a generous portion of oatmeal and poured it into the bowl. The milk splashed and almost spilled when she poured it on top of the oatmeal. She jerked the pitcher upright and stirred the oatmeal before adding more milk to the bowl. When it was just right, she prayed silently and then ate quickly. She heard the sound of the buggy wheels rattling in the driveway as she washed the dishes.
Ella took a deep breath, wiped her wet hands on her apron, and went up the basement steps. It was important to reach Ivan before he got close to the house.
“Good morning,” she said. He had his back turned to her as he lifted baby Barbara off the buggy seat.
“Good morning,” he said, turning and smiling weakly.
Noticing his hat askew, Ella almost laughed. Never in her wildest dreams had the image of her lover been like the man who now stood in front of her. Da Hah surely had a gut sense of humor.
“We have come back,” Mary said with a sleepy voice. “Daett gave us breakfast already.”
“I thought he would,” Ella said, reaching down and giving her a hug. “And, Sarah, how are you?”
Sarah said nothing even after Ella’s hug.
Ivan handed Ella the baby, nodded, and stood ready to climb back into the buggy. “The day is full for me, as usual. I hope you have a good week,” he said as he turned to leave.
Ella cleared her throat. “About your question—”
“Yah,” he said, looking back and pausing. His foot was already on the buggy step.
“I do not know the final answer yet or when I will know, but you are welcome to visit…if you still wish.”
“But the bishop,” he said, taking his foot off the buggy step.
Ella's Wish (Little Valley 2) Page 26
