She paced in front of the heater stove, remembering what Eben had said about appreciating a frank woman. His response still surprised her. Evidently Joanna had worried about Cora Jane’s candor for nothing.
Looking across the field, she wondered if Rachel Stoltzfus had remembered to light the lantern in the kitchen. She strained to see, and sure enough, it looked like she had. Joanna could just make out the kitchen windows from where she stood. She might simply point Eben in the right direction and let him walk over there on his own, once he’d had a good chance to thaw out. It wouldn’t do for them to say their farewell for the night outside Abe’s farmhouse anyway, for goodness’ sake. Nor would it do for them to get too cozy here in Mamma’s kitchen. The way Eben was talking, he might be stuck in Shipshewana working with his father for who knew how much longer yet.
So I mustn’t let him kiss me. Joanna didn’t want to be sorry later, if for some reason Leroy Troyer didn’t return home to partner with his father. In case Eben can’t leave there. . . .
No, she didn’t want to risk giving away her first kiss.
———
There had been many moments in Eben’s life when his head had ruled his emotions, but tonight hadn’t been one of them. Eager to get back to Joanna, he pushed hard against the barn door, closing it soundly. He was grateful for the time he’d spent earlier with Nate Kurtz. My future father-in-law, if all goes well.
Glancing toward the house, he could see movement through the back door window—was Joanna standing there, waiting? Poor thing, if she was even half as frozen as he was. He tramped through the fresh snow as he made his way back to the house, ready for the hot chocolate. And a few more precious moments with Joanna, as well. He needed to slow down, he thought, lest they spend all their time cuddling. Much as he longed to hold her close, they had so little time together; he wanted to learn as much about her as possible—keep her talking. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, there seemed to be something she was holding back from him, something she was hiding, though he couldn’t put his finger on it.
———
Eben thanked Joanna for the large mug of cocoa and plate of cookies. She’d lit the gas lamp over the table so that the light spread across the room and poured into part of the small sitting area where they’d first sat when he arrived. Seeing her again now, in this place, he marveled at how dear she’d become to him since that first evening by the ocean. He realized anew how fortunate he was that she was still single, not snatched up and married years ago.
Joanna came over to the table and sat next to him on the bench. She smiled without speaking as she began to sip her own cocoa, but her eyes danced in the warmth of the kitchen.
“I enjoyed seein’ Hickory Hollow,” he said.
“Would be nice if you could see it in the daytime, too.”
He agreed. Then he thought to ask the name of their blacksmith. “I’d like to talk to him right quick tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m sure Smithy Riehl would be happy to meet you and talk shop.”
“Of course I’d like to work in some fun for us, too,” he went on. “I’ve been wondering . . . do you have an extra pair of skates big enough for my feet?” he asked, wishing he didn’t have to leave so soon.
“I’m sure we do somewhere.”
He nodded. “How well do you skate?”
She ducked her head, shy again. “Salina says I’m perty gut.”
“I’ll bet you are.” Eben reached for a chocolate chip cookie. “So we’ll go skating bright and early tomorrow.”
“After a nice hot breakfast, jah?”
“If you’re cooking, it’ll be delicious.”
She blushed and nodded. “What’s your mother usually make for breakfast?” she asked.
He realized just then that, other than Leroy, he hadn’t talked much about his own family. “Anything from oatmeal to chicken and waffles and gravy. Sometimes scrambled eggs with ham.”
“Sounds filling.”
“I’d like you to meet Mamm sometime . . . and Daed, too.”
“That’d be real nice.”
“I hope it can be soon.” He sensed her sudden hesitance. Who could blame her, after what he’d revealed at supper? “Don’t worry. Something will work out, Joanna.” He reached for her hand. “I believe God has a plan for our lives . . . yours and mine—together.”
Slowly, she smiled. “I’ve felt that way, too.”
“So we’ll just trust in that, jah?” He leaned near. “All right?”
After a time she asked if he’d like more cocoa, but because it was growing late and he was mindful of the Stoltzfuses’ kindly gesture for the night, he said he should head over there.
Quickly, Joanna offered him a flashlight from the lowest cupboard. “This’ll help ya see your way.”
They walked hand in hand out to the utility room, where he turned and thanked her again for the delicious drink and the evening. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He paused. “My sweetheart,” he added in a whisper, reaching for her.
“Gut Nacht, Eben.” She stepped back ever so slightly, and he knew right then that he didn’t dare stay any longer. He picked up his duffel bag.
“Da Herr sei mit du—God be with you, Joanna.” With that, he reached for his black felt hat from the nearest wooden peg, then pushed open the back door and stepped out into the frosty night.
Chapter 12
The moment Eben left, Joanna went upstairs to find Cora Jane near the doorway to her bedroom. “You’re wasting your time with Eben,” she declared.
Joanna walked past her sister, letting it go—she wasn’t about to allow anyone to spoil her lovely evening.
“I’m serious. How can ya go out ridin’ when he basically told you he’s uncertain he can ever move here?”
Hearing her own fears verbalized, Joanna shuddered.
“How, Joanna?”
Turning slowly, she measured what she ought to say. “Why are you makin’ this your business, sister?”
“I hate to see you get hurt . . . and you will.”
“You seem so sure,” Joanna said.
“I’m just good at tellin’ the truth.”
Suddenly exhausted, Joanna motioned toward her room. “Good night, Cora Jane. Ich geh noch em Bett—I’m goin’ to bed.”
Her sister was big-eyed but mum as Joanna closed her door and leaned hard against it in the darkness.
“I hate to see you get hurt,” Cora Jane had said.
Oh, what Joanna wouldn’t give to erase those words.
But how, when her sister’s fears were her very own?
Eben made his way over the snow-covered ground to the Stoltzfus house, glad for the flashlight. He flicked it off and moved quietly into the dimly lit kitchen, still carrying his duffel bag. There, he found a lantern and a welcoming note, which reminded him of his own mother’s hospitality.
Recalling where Joanna had said he was to sleep, Eben carried the lantern through the kitchen and toward the front room, into the guest bedroom on the right. Then, raising the wick a bit, he sat on the bed and opened his Bible to Matthew’s gospel and began to read as he did each night.
After several chapters, his eyes felt scratchy, and he closed them. He recalled a long-ago afternoon. He and young Leroy had been in charge of bringing home the herd for milking. Leroy had carried a long stick, shaking it back and forth over the emerald-green pastureland as they headed toward Daed’s big bank barn.
Eben had seen it first: a single-engine plane buzzing overhead. But it was Leroy whose wide eyes were filled with craving as he stopped suddenly to raise his stick and trace the plane’s path across the sky, like an artist’s brush on a vast blue canvas. Then and there, he stated, “Mark my words, Eben. One day I’m goin’ to fly like a bird.”
At the time, Eben had thought his brother meant he wanted to be a passenger on a flight someday. But no, even then Leroy’s heart must have been set on being a pilot.
Years later, in the wee hours one night, the distinct sou
nd of Leroy’s tennis shoes squeaking in the upstairs hallway would record itself in Eben’s brain. Stiffening under the covers, Eben had heard Leroy descend the stairs and knew better than to rush after him or attempt to call out to stop him. Eben hadn’t even considered alerting their parents. No, when morning came, they all knew Leroy was gone.
Shaking off the miserable recollection, Eben began to pray the prayer he’d offered up ever since Leroy jumped the fence. But this night, he did so more earnestly than ever before: O Lord, hear my prayer for my brother. Lead him back to us in your will and time, for your sake.
Eben paused, thinking how to phrase what he wanted to add.
And for Leroy’s sake, too . . . as well as Joanna’s and mine. Amen.
Joanna awakened full of anticipation the next morning. She slipped on her white cotton bathrobe, then raised the shade to peer out, welcoming the rosy daybreak. Another inch of snow had fallen in the night, making a soft covering over yesterday’s accumulation. The beauty made her think of Eben, just a field away. Was he also up early, contemplating their day together?
Looking down, Joanna saw where a small fox, or perhaps a young deer, had cut across the newly fallen snow toward the pastureland, its tracks meandering around a walnut tree in the side yard. This time of year had always been bittersweet for her—the year had matured to its eleventh month, and wedding season was in full swing. The season brought joy to most families, but melancholy to the women who’d been passed over . . . another reminder of romantic rejection.
She moved from the window and returned to the small table next to her unmade bed. Have I grown this year in the fear and admonition of the Lord? She prayed so, and sat next to the window to read a single psalm before asking for a blessing on the day.
Joanna began to make a nice hot breakfast to start things off, even though Cora Jane’s eyes were sending a silent message that Joanna was merely endeavoring to impress Eben.
Then, of all things, Cora Jane hurried off to cook breakfast next door, first making a mumbled effort to say where she’d be before leaving by way of the back door.
“You know your little sister,” Mamma said, excusing her to Joanna.
Joanna tried not to pay attention to the slight, keeping her focus on Eben’s imminent arrival. With a fork, she lifted a slice of bacon in the pan to make sure it was perfectly crisp.
When Eben arrived and the food was ready, she and Mamma worked quickly to get everything on the table nice and hot. Then, eager to dig in, Dat led the silent prayer before the four of them enjoyed the tasty spread.
Surprisingly, Eben and Dat had plenty to say to each other during the breakfast of fruit, sticky buns, fried eggs, bacon, and blueberry pancakes. They discussed not just the weather, but the upcoming farm auctions, which made Joanna smile.
Dat likes him!
Mamma was also relaxed compared to last evening and seemed to know without being told that Joanna and Eben had plans for the remainder of his visit. In fact, Mamma practically shooed them out the door, saying she’d do the dishes alone. “Have yourselves a real nice time.”
“Denki. We will, Mamma,” Joanna said before settling into the sleigh amidst many warm lap robes, thanks once again to Dat. She was thrilled to be alone again with Eben—she’d never felt so comfortable with anyone.
Not far up the road, Joanna finally decided to reveal her love for writing. She’d wanted to wait for the ideal time.
“Stories? Really?” He was all smiles.
“And some poetry, too.”
“Well, I’m not surprised, given your letters—they’re always so interesting. I really look forward to them.”
She didn’t mention that other people—especially her circle letter pen pals—had told her they also enjoyed her descriptive letters. “But my stories are just for fun, kinda like your picture taking. I don’t share them with anyone.”
“So . . . a secret writer.” He appeared to mull that over, then asked, “Do you ever write anyone you know into your stories? Me, for instance?”
She flirted back. “As a matter of fact . . .”
“Well, now I’m going to have to read them for certain.”
“Oh, you think so?” She laughed, but truly she was delighted.
“What’s to hide?”
“No secrets,” Joanna said, more thankful than ever for her wonderful beau, someone with whom she could share all of her heart.
Their first stop was Smithy Riehl’s blacksmith shop. Joanna was happy to see the stocky middle-aged man grip Eben’s hand in a friendly handshake as he offered to show him around. Not wanting to listen in, she walked to the house and visited the smithy’s wife, Leah, who was busy mending a pair of her husband’s pants. Joanna sat and kept her company, all the while hoping Eben’s visit here might bring a promise of work from the highly respected blacksmith.
“That’s a fine young man you’ve got there,” Leah said, eyes smiling. “From round here?”
“Indiana,” Joanna was quick to say.
“Oh, is that right?”
She nodded, knowing the grapevine would be swinging soon. “I can help ya mend while I wait.”
Leah gave her some socks to darn, and the two women sat silently working, although Joanna couldn’t help noticing Leah’s frequent glances at her.
Later, when Joanna and Eben were on their way to the pond behind Samuel Lapp’s barn, Eben volunteered some of what he and the smithy had discussed, including the fact that Eben was encouraged to do some apprentice work with the blacksmith back home.
“Have you been interested in blacksmithing for long?” Joanna asked.
“Well, I learned a few things from our smithy back home one summer, during my teens.” Eben explained that his father had urged him and his brothers to learn a trade, along with farming. “Daed always said, ‘Ya just never know when it might come in handy.’ ”
Joanna felt reassured by the fact that her beau was planning ahead for their future as a married couple. As they rode along the familiar back roads, she realized just how wonderful life in Hickory Hollow would be with Eben by her side.
When they came upon Weaver’s Creek, Joanna pointed out the lovely spot, so pretty with the dusting of snow on the boulder in the middle of the creek. “Once you’re settled here, I’ll show you round the whole area,” she said. “It’s a little too cold today.”
“I’ll get myself back here the minute I can,” Eben promised, reaching for her gloved hand. “Do you trust me, Joanna?” His eyes searched hers.
She nodded her head, relishing his nearness, already dreading his departure. How I’ll miss him!
Eben was relieved to busy himself with parking the horse and sleigh while Joanna dashed to the Lapps’ big house to ask permission to skate out back. He wasn’t so keen on riding around in an open sleigh, letting the People here see Joanna with a virtual stranger. The last thing Eben wanted was to have folk murmuring about Joanna’s romance with an out-of-state boy. Hopefully I won’t be one for long, he told himself.
Waiting near the horse, he eyed the two-story bank barn over yonder. The more time he spent with Joanna, the more he knew they were meant to be together. Surely the wedge that was keeping them apart for now would vanish in good time, leaving Eben free to depart Shipshewana.
———
The Lapps’ pond belonged entirely to Joanna and Eben, a novelty for Joanna, who had never skated there without at least a dozen or more other youth sharing the patch of ice. The sun rose higher in the sky, and she enjoyed the warmth on her back as she and Eben couple-skated, flying over the frozen surface together. But what she liked most was his strong arm around her waist, guiding her, supporting her as they went . . . connecting them as a unit. It was as if he had always been there for her.
What’ll I do when he leaves?
She made herself reject the miserable thought, wishing the sun might slow its steady climb.
After the noon meal of hearty chicken corn soup, Eben suggested they go walking around her father’s p
roperty. He said it with a wink that told Joanna there was more on his mind than merely seeing Dat’s farmland.
She liked his more casual appearance today, his combed hair free of its more formal black felt hat, and a warm jacket instead of the dressier frock coat he’d arrived in yesterday. Oh, to think of all they had seen and done in the space of not even twenty-four hours! She doubted she’d sleep tonight with thoughts of Eben rushing over her. How could she turn off such strong feelings, just because he was gone from sight? He’d managed to impress himself upon her heart, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
They walked leisurely, dawdling as they picked their way over the field lane that ran along the perimeter of Dat’s vast acreage. Eben held her hand like he might never let it go, and more times than she could count, their arms touched, sending shivers down her spine.
“There’s where I got your phone call.” She pointed to the old shanty to the left, clear out in the silver field.
He smiled down at her, reminding her that he would always call her every other Friday at seven o’clock.
“Guess I’d better make sure my flashlight has plenty of fresh batteries,” she said.
He laughed lightly, and when they looked at each other, neither seemed to want to turn away.
“Will ya wait for me, Joanna?” he asked, serious but hopeful.
“Jah,” she said softly, knowing his words were more of a promise than a question.
“For certain?”
She assured him with her smile.
And when it came time to part, Eben took her tenderly into his arms. For the sweetest moment ever, she felt the beating of his heart.
“I’ll write to you, my darling,” he whispered.
Much as she loved writing, she dreaded the thought of returning to that way of communicating when his nearness was just so lovely, the very answer to her heart’s cry. And when he said her name, she raised her face to his, still wrapped in his strong arms.
The Bridesmaid Page 7
