by Jan Drexler
He scanned the crowd from his spot under an oak tree. Johnny and Susan were playing a game of tag with some other children. It took a while to find Danny, but Bram finally spotted him on Sally Yoder’s lap as she sat with Elizabeth Stoltzfus. He let out a sigh of relief. Everything seemed all right, but something had caused that crease to appear again.
Bram made his way through the maze of benches until he stood next to her. She looked perfect, graceful, feminine. He ached at the sight of her.
“Ellie, would you like to take a walk with me?”
He spoke softly, but Ellie had heard him. The older woman next to her looked on with interest.
“Ja, I would like that.” She turned to give the baby to Annie, and then the older woman grasped Ellie’s hand for a moment. A silent message of some kind. The two exchanged a smile. He would never understand women.
He took Ellie up the lane that passed by the barn and went toward a farm pond. It would give them a nice walk, not too far, and they would remain within sight of the rest of the congregation.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
She looked at him, surprise on her face.
“Ne.” She looked away. “Well, ja, but it’s nothing you need to worry about.”
What a stubborn woman—didn’t she know he would worry about anything that affected her?
“Tell me.”
She walked in silence until they reached the pond. A frog jumped into the water as they approached the edge. They stopped, and Bram watched the ripples from the frog’s splash until they disappeared on the opposite side of the small pond.
“It’s Miriam and Hezekiah Miller.”
“Who?”
“Daniel’s aunt and uncle. They’re the only family he had, and they had no other children.”
“Hezekiah Miller?” Bram searched his memory of the names he knew. “The man with the cane?”
“Ja, that’s him. His arthritis is getting worse, and without Daniel to help them...” She stopped as if she was staggering under a load too heavy for her to bear.
“Won’t the church step in?”
“Ach, ja, with the heavy work. But it’s the day-to-day chores that are hard for him, too.”
Bram understood. In any other family the older folks would retire to their Dawdi Haus, helping with the chores they were able to do and enjoying the quieter days with their children nearby. But with no family, Hezekiah didn’t have that option, even as frail as he seemed.
“I’m the only family they have left, but I don’t know what I can do to help them right now. Maybe in a year or two I’ll be able to hire some help for them, until Johnny’s old enough.”
She was counting on the strawberries.
“I told you I’m here for you, Ellie.”
“But this isn’t your responsibility. It’s mine.”
“I want to bear this burden with you, if you’ll let me.” He would bear all of her burdens if she’d let him.
She shook her head, looking at her feet. She chewed on her bottom lip, but that worry line was easing. Good. At least she was thinking about it.
“What could you do?”
“My farmwork is caught up, thanks to the church, and I don’t have a family to take care of. I could drive over to help out.” It would add some hours to his day, but he could still continue canvassing the area towns in his search for Kavanaugh.
“They live over by Topeka. That’s at least four miles.”
“Well, I won’t be able to go every day, but often enough to help ease the work. Maybe some of the younger single men could do the same thing. There are enough of us that it wouldn’t be too great a burden for anyone, and yet Hezekiah would have someone to help every day.”
Bram was rewarded with a grateful look.
“Thank you. I never thought of anything like that.”
He reached up and rubbed away the last of the crease between her eyes, letting his finger fall to caress her cheek.
“I told you, I can help you bear your burdens. All you have to do is ask. I’ll talk to your dat, and between us we’ll take care of it.”
If only all his problems could be solved so easily.
* * *
A week later, Bram left home at dawn for his second turn at Hezekiah’s farm. The older man appreciated the help, and Bram had found him to be cheerful the week before, in spite of his crippling disease. A morning spent working with him had flown by, and during the dinner with Miriam afterward, he had come to know Ellie through their eyes. She was as dear to them as any daughter could be.
The rest of his week hadn’t been as pleasant as he became Dutch Sutter again, complete with Englisch clothes, and worked on sounding out contacts in
Goshen, the most likely place to find any sign of Kavanaugh.
The suit he bought for the job was uncomfortable, although it was almost identical to the one he had worn in Chicago just a few months ago. When he put it on, it was as if Bram Lapp had disappeared. Daily shaving had completed the image, erasing the Amish look altogether.
He never thought going undercover could be this complicated, but it was effective. He had found just enough information to narrow Kavanaugh’s activity to somewhere around Elkhart or South Bend, although he still had no idea where the prey was holed up or how many men he had working for him. Even so, it was time to find a phone and call in.
Partner’s hooves clip-clopped on the cement road that took him through downtown Topeka. When Bram caught a whiff of bacon frying, his growling stomach reminded him he hadn’t taken time for anything more than a cup of coffee before he’d left home. He took a deep breath of the mingled odors from the café. He’d have to stop in for some eggs and bacon before going on to Hezekiah’s. He took another deep breath. Ja, and a few doughnuts.
Coming out of the café with a bag of doughnuts twenty minutes later, Bram noticed the telephone exchange office was open. This would be a good time to call Peters.
He stepped into the office and closed himself in a public booth. He picked up the receiver and watched the bored-looking operator through the glass until she answered.
“Number, please.”
“I’d like to place a long-distance call to Elwood
Peters, FBI, Chicago Division.”
He wasn’t surprised to hear her gasp on the other end, but he hoped she wasn’t the kind to listen in on calls.
* * *
Ellie lifted one foot to rub it over a new mosquito bite on her other leg. Sunburn, mosquito bites and twenty quarts of strawberries from the Mennonite neighbors down the road, all before eight on a Thursday morning.
“Don’t forget to keep stirring the jam, Mandy,” Mam said as she set the last jar in the large pot to sterilize. She turned back to the table where Ellie was cleaning the final basket of this morning’s picking of strawberries.
“Whew. Wouldn’t it be nice if canning season was in the winter when a hot kitchen feels welcome?”
“Ja, Mam, you say that every year, but you’re right. At least today is a little cooler than last week.”
Mam nodded as she picked up her knife. Her fingers flew as she took the stem off each berry and sliced it.
The berries were small, making the work take even longer. A drought summer made even something as simple as strawberry jam more work.
“We’re going to have strawberry shortcake for dinner, aren’t we?” Mandy stood at the stove, as far away from the heat as she could and still stir the jam.
“Do you really feel like eating strawberries after spending the morning with them?” Ellie said, scratching a mosquito bite on her other leg.
“Well, maybe not the strawberries, but shortcake would be good.”
By dinnertime three dozen jars of strawberry jam were cooling on the counter, and one of Mam’s sweet, flaky shortc
akes had just come out of the oven.
Johnny burst through the door, slamming the screen against the wall.
“Memmi, the cows are in the strawberry field!”
Ellie rushed to the back door to look. Her heart turned cold at the sight of the family’s two milk cows and the yearling heifer in the field next to the Dawdi Haus. She grabbed Mam’s corn broom from the back porch and ran to the field. Johnny and Mandy were close behind her.
“You two go around them to the other side and get them to go toward the barn.”
Ellie stayed near the gate and used the broom to guide the cows toward the hole in the fence on the other side. She groaned as the splayed hooves of the animals churned the dusty soil, uprooting row after row of plants. When Buttercup stopped to pull one of the remaining green survivors up with her teeth, Ellie swatted her bony rump with the broom.
“Get on there, you miserable cow! Get in your own pasture!”
Mabel, the heifer, was in no hurry to return to the shady grass. She danced around Johnny’s and Mandy’s efforts to get her to follow the others, scattering bits of strawberry leaves and roots with every jump. Ellie added the broom to their efforts to corral her, but it wasn’t until Benjamin joined them that they were finally able to get all three cows through the hole in the fence.
Ellie turned to survey the damage. The field had looked pitiful before, but now it was gone. The money she had invested, the hours watering them, the worry...Any hope of seeing Daniel’s dreams fulfilled lay trampled in the dust.
Ellie felt Mam’s comforting arms around her shoulders and wanted to bury her face against her and cry, just as if she was Susan’s age, but she wasn’t a four-year-old.
Dat and Reuben joined Benjamin in the task of mending the fence. They finished the quick patch, and then Dat joined Ellie.
“Ach, Ellie. This is too bad.”
Rebecca stood at the gate with Susan and Danny, while the rest of the family gathered around Ellie. Whatever came of this, she wasn’t going to have to bear it alone.
“What will you do?” Benjamin’s voice was subdued. He had to be almost as disappointed as she was after all the work he had put into this project.
Ellie shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Mam squeezed her shoulders. “The Lord will provide. You’ll see.”
“Ja, I know.”
But when? How would she ever pay Bram back now?
* * *
Bram spent Friday morning in Elkhart after taking the Interurban from Goshen. A larger town than the county seat, and closer to South Bend and Chicago, Elkhart had much more to offer someone like Kavanaugh. He had found some evidence of criminal
activity—duly noted and passed on to the local police—but no sign of the gangster.
He changed his clothes in the public restroom in Goshen and turned Partner toward the Stoltzfus farm. It had been more than a week since he had seen Ellie. The desire to talk with her had grown into an aching need. How had he survived before he met her?
He had called Peters again before heading home from Elkhart, letting him know what he had found. The FBI agent would put his findings together with the information other agents had been able to gather on the Chicago end. They were closing in, squeezing a tight circle around South Bend. That had to be where Kavanaugh’s new headquarters were. Peters told him the feds would be making their move soon, and then Bram’s job would be over—as long as the cops were thorough this time and the gangster didn’t slip through the cracks. Another day or two and he’d call Peters again, just to see what progress had been made.
Meanwhile... He smiled, enjoying the thought. Ja, meanwhile, once they got Kavanaugh out of the way, he could stay right here. No more FBI, no more Mexico on his horizon, no more running, just the sweet anticipation of courting the most beautiful woman he had ever met. He’d start by asking her to a picnic with the children at Emma Lake.
The first thing Bram saw when he turned Partner into the Stoltzfus barnyard was Reuben working in
Ellie’s strawberry field with a singletree plow. What happened to the strawberries?
Ellie came out of the Dawdi Haus to greet him as he tied his horse to the hitching rail.
“Good afternoon, Bram.”
It was all he could do to keep from taking her in his arms, but he settled for a brief touch on her shoulder.
“What’s Reuben doing with the plow?”
“Ach, the cows got into the field yesterday and ruined anything that was left.”
Her voice was flat with discouragement.
“You’re not planting more right away, are you?”
“Ne. I can’t buy more plants now, even if I thought they might survive. Dat’s planting buckwheat.”
Bram nodded. Buckwheat grew quickly, and they’d be able to harvest it before frost, even with this late planting. He glanced at the clear blue sky and amended his thought—they’d get a harvest if the rain came.
“The worst part...” Ellie lowered her voice as she walked with him into the shade of one of the maple trees. “The worst part is that I won’t be able to pay you back as soon as I hoped.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“But I do. I hate being in debt. I have to save for next year’s taxes, but I will pay you back.”
“Ellie, I said don’t worry about it. I’m not worried. Everything will work out.”
“That’s what Mam always says.” Ellie looked away from him, watching the dust cloud behind Reuben’s plow.
Bram reached up and turned her chin toward him. “Your mother is right, as usual.”
Her expression was solemn. He longed to kiss her cheek. Maybe that would force her into a smile. He dropped his hand and cleared his throat.
“I came to ask if you’d like to have a picnic on Sunday—you and the children. We could drive over to the lake, and the children could go wading...” He stopped as she looked away from him again.
“I don’t want the children to be a burden to you.”
“Your children are never a burden.” He waited until she looked at him again, then smiled and stroked the line of her jaw with his thumb. “I never regret any time I spend with you or the children. Being with the four of you for a day is the nicest thing I can think of.” He took Ellie’s hand in his and turned it over, stroking her palm with his finger. “I want to take you on this picnic. Please come.”
She hesitated for a long minute. He enfolded her hand in his, longing to be able to pull her into his embrace. He stole a glance to her face. The worry line was there, her lips drawn into an expression of doubt. Confusion. Something still stood between them.
“I...I can’t, Bram. It isn’t fair to...” She stopped, biting her bottom lip between her teeth.
“It isn’t fair to whom, Ellie?”
She whispered the answer. “To me. To the children. The more time we spend together, the more they like you, and the more they’ll miss you when you’re gone.”
“What if I told you I wasn’t going anywhere?”
“What?”
“My job is almost finished, and I thought maybe I’d stay on.” He smiled, anticipating the pleased look of surprise he’d see in her eyes, but instead her worry line deepened farther.
“Stay on? Do you mean as part of the community?”
“Ja, sure.”
“Become a member of the church?”
Bram shifted and looked away. He hadn’t thought about joining the church since his brief conversation with Bishop Yoder. Was he ready to take that step?
“I...I don’t know. Maybe.”
Ellie pulled her hand out of his and took a step, putting distance between them.
“I’ve let myself become too close to you, Bram. I can’t keep being friends with someone who’s a nonmember.”
“And if I never joined the church?”
She lifted her eyes to his, her voice a whisper. “Then I can’t see you anymore.”
Bram swallowed and looked to the sky. How was he supposed to handle this?
“Give me some time, Ellie. I need to take care of this thing with Kavanaugh.”
“And then what?” She gave him a trembling smile. “After you take care of this problem, what comes next? You look like you’re Amish, Bram, but you’ve never left the Englischer behind. What if you’re never ready to submit to the church?”
Bram tore his gaze away from her clear blue eyes. She was right. He felt like swearing, but could only accept her words. If he couldn’t submit to the church, everything he had come to treasure here would slip through his fingers. Even Ellie. Even the children.
But to join the church, to agree to live by the Ordnung, to give up his freedom, his independence...
Did she know what she was asking him to do?
“If it was Levi Zook standing between us, I’d fight for you. I wouldn’t give up until you chose one of us, and then I’d abide by your decision. But this...Ellie...You’re asking me to give up everything.” He stopped and rubbed the back of his neck.
She looked at him, her eyes wet. “Sometimes Gott asks us to give up what we hold dear in order to give us the better thing He has for us.”
Bram shook his head. “I don’t know if I can believe that.”
“You can trust Gott, Bram.”
Could he trust God that far? He wasn’t sure.
Chapter Sixteen
Bram left the house the next morning with a check of the clear blue sky. Another day with no rain meant the crops would continue to suffer. He glanced at the cornfield on his way to the barn, but there was little change. The seeds had sprouted, but by now the plants should be almost a foot high, with bright green leaves reaching upward. Here it was nearly the Fourth of July, and the plants were barely six inches high, dull leaves hanging from the fragile stalks.
He harnessed Partner and hitched him up to head to the telephone exchange in Topeka. He was itching to find out if Kavanaugh was in custody. If the gangster was out of the way, he’d be able to settle into his life here—but what kind of life would it be?
