Ella's Wish (13 page)

Ivan stood to his feet and rebuked himself.
No, Ella cannot be mine
. Da Hah
has spoken—roughly, yes, with the death of Lois—but He is
Da Hah,
and who am I to question His ways? Lois has been taken from me and for a reason. Perhaps through this I will be able to see the condition of my own heart. What a presumptuous fool I would be to walk into the arms of another woman I loved
.

The idea caused his hands to shake as he blew out the kerosene lamp. In the darkness, he felt better. Surrounded by its embrace, his shame was at least hidden in the shadows. He sighed as relief came. When exhaustion gripped him, he was thankful. The labors of farm life overcame even a man’s loneliness, his reluctance to sleep, his unwillingness to eat, and his disappointments living life without a woman to love and care for.

Ivan lowered himself wearily into bed. Tomorrow morning would come soon enough. Things could be faced then. He closed his eyes and moments later heard the familiar cry of the baby from her crib. In a haze he tried to get out of bed, but then the crying ebbed, and he drifted off again.

Again baby Barbara cried, this time more insistently. Ivan slid slowly out of bed and walked over to the crib. Little Barbara hollered loudly right into his face, even as he tried to calm her. Strange how she didn’t know when he was right there. His fingers tested under the diaper. Yah, she needed a change.

Sleepily he moved the baby to the dresser, found a match, lit the kerosene lamp, and changed the diaper. As he laid her back in her crib, she showed no intentions of sleep, and so with one arm, he carried her on his shoulder out to the kitchen. He set her on the floor beside the oven, then lit the fire, and waited while the milk warmed. When it was ready, he took the bottle and the whimpering baby into the living room where he settled in the rocker and held the bottle up to the baby’s searching mouth.

Images faded in and out of his mind as he resisted sleep.
What do women have that men don’t? Do they have some special strength that
Da Hah
gives them, unique only to them? Lois had always taken care of these middle of the night feedings and yet still got up with me at the same time each morning and had breakfast ready when I came in from the chores. She worked all day like I did and went to bed around the same time. How ever did she do it?

The arrangement with Ella Yoder will do until the widow Weaver and I can be married. It’s what I have to do, and that’s all there is to it. Tomorrow I will make my visit to the widow and set things in motion
. Now he was drained; had given up in a way that was hard to explain.
What is will just have to be. What once was can never be again. That is as clear as day
.

The rocker squeaked steadily under him.

That he didn’t want to visit the widow was beside the point now. The man in him who wanted what he could not have must stay hidden. Ivan watched the scene in his mind with bated breath. In the barn he would have waved his hand and swatted at the problem till it moved away. In church he would have thundered, quoted the Scriptures, and looked across the room of the assembled with a stern eye. Here, with a hungry baby in his arms, he was reduced to silence over what could not be swatted away.

Yes, tomorrow I will go visit the widow
. The hickory rocker squeaked again under him as if in agreement, and the baby continued to softly swallow the warm milk.
The widow will say yes, and we will begin to make plans at once. We will say the sacred vows, and my life will become what it must become. Temptation to hope for more will be gone
.

“I will do it,” he spoke aloud into the quiet house.

The baby started, and her face became a mass of fright in the faint flickering lamplight.

“Hush, hush,” he whispered quickly as he rocked the chair and jabbed the bottle around in search of the baby’s mouth. The baby bawled louder, refusing and turning her head sideways so that the nipple slid along her cheek.

“Hush now,” he whispered, rocking and hushing until silence came. Gently he offered the bottle again, and she accepted, burping a few minutes later. He laid her on his chest and patted her back. Enough sleep had already been lost. He got up from the rocker and headed back to the crib, carrying the kerosene lamp in one hand and the infant in the other arm. Setting the light on the dresser, he lowered the baby slowly to the blanket.

She whimpered but made no more sound. He waited and then climbed back into bed. Sleep wouldn’t come, though. Wild thoughts raced through his head—thoughts of Ella Yoder, how she would care for his three girls, and of how many women would do such a thing.

She will get paid
, he told himself, but that didn’t help much.
What I really want is for her to care for me, for my place, for this house, and, yes, for my children. But I don’t want her taking care of them at her house. I want her here at mine
. He almost spoke his objections aloud again but held back the sound and pulled the covers up over his head like a little boy when the night dreams troubled the soul.

Seventeen

W
ith the sun just above the horizon, Ivan knocked gently on the front door of the
dawdy haus
. He held baby Barbara in his arms, and his two older girls stood behind him.

“Ah,” he began and then stopped when he saw the look on her face.

“Your hay isn’t dry yet,” Susanna said, “and I got the wash to do this morning. Couldn’t you have done this yesterday when Mamm and Daett’s night was a little better?”

Although Susanna looked weary, he plunged ahead. “I’m doing it today. I’m going to ask her right now.”

Susanna paused and wiped her brow. “Well, the sooner the better. I can’t do this much more, what with the hard nights Mamm and Daett are having. It’s getting worse all the time. You need a wife for yourself and a mother for these girls real soon.”

“That’s why I’m going to the widow Weaver’s today.”

“I suppose I’ll figure some way to take care of the girls. Things like this do need to be done, and I’m willin’ to carry my share of the load.”

“You carry more than your share…much more than your share.”

“We all must do our duty,” she said, smiling weakly. “
Da Hah
gives grace somehow.”

She shamed him with her righteous life.
What would she think if she
knew of my struggle last night, of the secret desires in my heart, or that my life doesn’t measure up to what I expect of myself?

“Well, don’t leave them on the front porch,” Susanna said, bending over to lift Mary into her arms. “Have you given them breakfast yet?”

“Daett gave us oatmeal,” Mary said, “with brown sugar and cream.”

“You do need a woman,” Susanna said over Mary’s shoulder. “You know that isn’t good for them.”

“Am I getting a new mamm?” Mary asked.

“Oh, hush now,” Susanna said, hugging her. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“We’re going to Ella’s house next week. Is she going to be our new mamm?” Mary asked.

“No,” Susanna said, “but she’ll take good care of you until you have a new mamm.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Ivan said, stepping off the porch and turning quickly toward the barn.

“I hope I like Ella,” Mary said in a faint voice behind him.

So do I, although there is little doubt in my mind about it. Ella is that kind of girl. She will be a good wife for the man who marries her
.

Ivan called the horse in from the barnyard, harnessed him quickly for the task ahead. He could do no less than hurry since Susanna had been kind enough to care for his girls.
Yes, hurry I must with this wedding proposal. There are no needs for romantic notions. The widow likely has similar sentiments. We are in a different world now and might as well accept it. No longer is the youth group, with its dreams of love and romance, a part of our lives. When death broke in on both of us, life took on a practical reality
.

He threw on the harness, and the horse held still for him this morning. Driving out the driveway, he wondered if the horse knew his mission this morning.
Is that why he behaves so readily? Perhaps this is a small sign that
Da Hah
approves of my mission
.

Ivan drove south and then west for a mile before he turned onto Nancy Weaver’s road. She kept the farm herself since her husband’s death some years ago. He wondered how long it had been but could only reason that Nancy had lived without her husband much longer than he had lived without Lois. The length of time before remarrying was often different for men and women. A man simply isn’t cut out to take care of children on his own.

How does Nancy keep the farm in operation without a man around? Her boys are several years older than my girls, but even so, they could not contribute enough to manage the place
. From somewhere there had been talk Nancy had a hired hand to help milk and manage the farm.
She is a remarkable woman, no doubt, and one worthy of asking for her hand in marriage
.

Ivan slapped the reins and drove faster. They would make a good family together; her three boys and his three girls. A little large, the family would be, and a full house, but that couldn’t be helped. With more children still likely to come, the family would be even larger, but that was as it should be. This was the way
Da Hah
had made things, and they were not to be ashamed of His ways.

The widow’s house lay just over the next hill, and his horse slowed down to make the ascent. Above him the early morning sky was open, cloudless, and seemed to stretch out forever. Ivan let the horse take his time and noticed his own hands on the reins.
Why are they clenched so tightly?
He could feel the sweat under his collar even as the cool morning breezes blew in through the open buggy door and ruffled his shirt.

Surely I’m not in the midst of youthful jitters!
Yet he knew the answer before the question had come. Truth be known, he didn’t want to ask Nancy Weaver for her hand in marriage. And then an even more startling realization struck him. The question he readied for the widow Weaver, he really wanted to place before Ella Yoder. The thought shamed him, but his resolve drove him on.
I will not give in now, just when I am so close
.

Before him he saw the crest of hill. He was still hidden, and his buggy remained unseen by those on the other side. Once he crossed the crest, he might be noticed, and there really would be no turning back. Surely his intentions would be known to all. What other reason did he have for this early morning visit down this particular road?

His fingers dug into the leather of the buggy lines, and he set his teeth firmly together. There was no way he would turn back now.
Have I not thundered often in my sermons about choosing the correct path? And
yet with a cry, he found himself turning the buggy around in the middle of the road. The wheels screeched on the turn bars.

He let the horse have its head as if he was mad with youth and on his way home from a Sunday night hymn sing. The horse raced as if he understood the close call.

What will Susanna say about this? No matter, it’s too late to worry about an answer now
. He took the little one-lane bridge by the river so fast the buggy wheels left the ground for a moment, clattering loudly as they bit into the gravel.

He pulled back on the reins and slowed down.
It’s not too late to change my mind yet again
. He almost turned the horse around, but the memory of Ella’s face rose up before him. His nerves were raw as she seemed to be smiling at him. Surely he had gone entirely mad from the stress he was under. Yet he wanted a wife like the one he used to have. He wanted to love a woman with all his heart again, passionately and without reserve. And he knew in turning from the widow Weaver, he had chosen to not let that desire go so easily.
Is it possible to be happy again?

What does
Da Hah
have to say about this? And what of Susanna?
He trembled at the rebuke that lay ahead. Still he released the reins again, giving the horse his head, and the buggy sped along the back roads. All the while he considered his plight.
Perhaps I should stay silent about my hidden desires. If my resolve is strong enough, maybe I will be spared punishment from on high
.

An atonement might help, but how do I atone for what I haven’t committed? Perhaps I can atone by preaching. I can strongly condemn and rebuke the hidden passions of the weak human heart. My conscience will permit that because I would, first of all, be preaching to myself. Is that not the first order of good preaching? Then, after many years of living in holiness, perhaps my heart will cease betraying me
.

Pulling into Susanna’s driveway, Ivan’s hands shook as he unhitched the sweaty horse, whose breath came in great heaves. He calmed himself by reaching for hope deep inside of himself. He hoped his resolution would bear fruit. To lessen his guilt, he filled the bucket of oats to the brim, poured the whole thing into the feed trough, and left the horse to drink and munch away.

“You get her answer, yah? And so quickly,” Susanna asked, standing on the front porch and holding a hamper full of wet wash.
“Da Hah
must have been with you.”

“I turned back…before I got there,” he said, his eyes staring at the ground.

“She surely didn’t turn you down. I can’t imagine that Nancy Weaver would turn you down.”

“No,” Ivan said, shaking his head. “I said I turned back. I never asked her.”

“You never asked her?”

“I’ll try again later,” Ivan said, meeting her eyes.

“I helped you out this morning…so you could waste both our time. Ivan, you’re not a young blushin’ man. You’ve already been married. What’s wrong with you?”

Ivan turned away.

Susanna sighed and then said in a soft voice that surprised Ivan, “Well, then, I reckon it hasn’t been that long since Lois passed. You’re still missing her. I guess it won’t do to rush you.”