Ella's Wish (30 page)

“It’s not—most assuredly not. Supper is no longer to be kept from you.”

With that, he sprang to his feet, grabbed her soup bowl, and took it over to the stove. With expert care he fanned the fire that had died down to embers, stoked the ashes, and proceeded to reheat her soup. “I wasn’t a bachelor all these years for nothing,” he said with a grin. After a couple of silent minutes, he said, “There, now. Nice and warm, are we. And the bread, I will warm it over the oven.”

“You are good,” she said as she took the first spoonful.

“Not at all,” he said, brushing off the compliment with a wave of his hand. “Soup isn’t so hard to warm up.”

“Do you want some more?” she asked. “There’s plenty.”

“I had enough, so I’ll just watch you eat.”

“That doesn’t help,” she said. The red was creeping up her face again.

“Well, then,” he said, laughing, “let me tell you a story.”

“Yah,” she said.
Anything! Just stop watching me
.

“Last week one of my cows got out of the pasture. It’s the usual rowdy one,” he said, smiling warmly. “She always looks for the way through the fence and seems to find it when I’m not looking or when the barbed wire has gotten even the slightest bit loose. She finds it—always does. And she’s my best milker. She drops heifer calves every year, as dependable as can be, so I don’t ever consider taking her to the sale barn.

“Anyway, she got out on the road again by pushing the wire back with her neck. I didn’t notice anything amiss until a car in the road blew its horn. I had to leave my team in the middle of the field to tend to the problem. The nice man and lady in the car were tourists who seemed amused to find an Amish cow—by their description—out in the middle of the road.

“They helped me get the cow back in. They said they used to be farmers before they retired in Florida, and I could believe it. After we got the cow back safe and sound inside the fence, they stayed and chatted. I watched the horses out of the corner of my eye the whole time, but they didn’t move, as good as gold they were. They probably were thankful for the long rest.”

Ella finished the last bite of her soup and waited for more of the story. When nothing more seemed to be coming, she said, “Why are you telling me this? Am I missing the point?”

“Just that I suspect you’re a little bit like that cow,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re not quite willing to be content until you see what’s on the other side.”

Rather than press the point, Ella simply smiled and decided she might as well change the subject to her concerns about Eli. She didn’t want him to leave without knowing what had been happening with her brother.

“Eli’s in trouble again,” she said, noticing the bishop didn’t look too surprised. “Dora thinks he’s seen the
Englisha
girl again. I don’t know what gets into him. We all thought your talk had done him so much good, but Eli’s always been that way—stubborn.”

The bishop spoke slowly. “I’m disappointed…but not too surprised. This is a serious matter. It’s of grave concern for one of our boys to see an
Englisha
girl. Sure, the
Englisha
are good people. They have their own way with
Da Hah
, as we have ours. But the two must be kept separate. They cannot mix, Ella. I’m sure you know that.”

“I do,” she said, “but we always have our wild boys.”

“I see you defend him,” he said, smiling. “I guess it’s because he’s your brother. Perhaps that blinds you to the seriousness of this matter. Yah, we have our wild ones, those who push the fence during their young years. But to love an
Englisha
is very wrong, Ella. We tempt
Da Hah
Himself with such a sin. I will speak with your father about this matter. I think perhaps it would be best if Eli left home until he repents fully of his error.”

She stood to her feet. “No, you must not do that. You must not speak to my father. He would have to obey you…and Eli must stay at home. Daett needs him. He needs him a lot. I wouldn’t want to see Daett suffer more than he already has. And this could drive away Eli for good. I believe Eli will choose the faith in the end. I just know he will.”

He studied her for a long moment. “As I said, you’re a lot like my cow. You always push the fence. You always find the loose wire. Yet in spite of that, you are the best woman I have ever seen. I find my heart pulls me in one direction, Ella, and my good sense pulls me in another. You really ought to learn the ways of an Amish woman’s meek and quiet spirit. Has your
Daett
not taught you this?”

“You don’t have to marry me,” Ella whispered. “I still think the single life may be for me, but you must not speak with Daett about Eli.”

“Yah,” he said with a slight smile on his face, “I see you also speak your mind. Perhaps we should leave these matters alone for now. I will think some more about the subjects, both Eli and Ivan’s girls. But I do have peace in my heart on one matter.
Da Hah
has given you to me for a wife—of this I am sure. I will humble my heart to accept His good will. Much work will be needed, I see. Yet His will is always the best.”

“I have not yet agreed,” Ella said, finding her voice.

“But you will,” he said, speaking with a firm voice and standing to go. “Enough for tonight. Two hearts must grow together slowly. I see we have more time than I thought, and that too, I must get used to. I had hoped to marry you very soon, but I see I must wait. You are worth it, Ella.”

“I am not so sure,” Ella said, holding on to the sides of the chair and remembering her dream.

“I am,” he said with his hand on the door. “Good night, now.
Da Hah’s villa
be done. Until next Saturday, then, if you will?”

“I will see you then,” she said.
What else is there to say?

His steps were soundless as he climbed the stairs, but his buggy wheels rattled loudly as he drove out the driveway. Ella stood by the basement window to listen until the sound had died away into the distance.

Thirty-seven

T
hankfully Preacher Stutzman didn’t preach on Sunday. To have to listen to the thunder in his voice, hear the condemnation he brought, and face her disappointment in another man seemed too much to bear. After church Ella helped with the tables, ate quickly, and then headed home, staying in the basement for the rest of the afternoon.

Bright and early Monday morning, Preacher Stutzman pulled in the driveway with his girls, tied his horse at the hitching post, and, leaving baby Barbara in the buggy for the moment, approached the basement door, twirling his hat round and round in his hands.

Mary ran as she neared Ella and sprang into her arms with shrieks of delight. Sarah came much slower but smiled happily at Ella as she reached her.

“I see they still like me,” Ella said with a smile.

“Of course they do,” Stutzman said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I suppose they would like anyone who takes care of them,” Ella said. “It’s not just about me.”

“Yah,” he said, “perhaps they would.” His hat went around and around in his fingers.

“We didn’t see you on Sunday,” Mary said, “but Daett said you were in church.”

“I do go to your district, and I was there,” Ella said, “but it was crowded.” She wasn’t about to give the reason why the girls hadn’t seen her—her deliberate attempt to avoid the attention and affection they had just shown her. In public this display would attract much more attention than she needed.

“But we like you,” Mary said, “and we wanted to see you, but now we’re back for all week. That’s what Daett said.”

“I’m glad too,” Ella said, giving both girls a hug. “Now we have to get your sister from the buggy.”

“Be good girls,” Stutzman said with his hat on his head now. He walked to the buggy, brought the baby back with him, and handed her to Ella. He then knelt down, ruffling Mary’s hair in front of her little white
kapp
. He gave Mary and Sarah a hug. “I must be going now. There’s hay to make and silage before too long.”

“Of course, they will be
gut
,” Ella said, “because they just are
gut
.”

Stutzman smiled weakly, nodded, and then walked back to his buggy. Ella took the girls’ hands and led them to the house, making sure they stopped to wave at their daett from the top of the basement stairs. Their father didn’t seem to notice, his attention already elsewhere, as his horse hit the main road.
How like a man
.
They love their families, and then they leave. Perhaps he does have plenty on his mind, like he said. Still, he could have waved to his girls
.

“Well, what have we here?” Ronda asked from the open living room window. Her head was almost a whole floor above them. “The three little angels are back with us.”

Mary laughed. Her voice bounced in the morning air. Sarah joined in.

“You’re just girls, aren’t you?” Ella said, pulling both of them toward her for a quick hug, while holding the baby in her other arm.

“Yah, that’s all we are,” Mary said, nodding like she understood.

“You’re comin’ up here for lunch later, aren’t you?” Ronda asked.

“I can’t be putting you out all the time,” Ella said. “You’ll spoil us all.”

“It won’t be every day. You know that. Joe’s gone for the first time since the weekend. I guess I’m lonely in this big house. It just feels so good to have someone downstairs.”

“Then we’ll come. How about it, girls? Shall we go up for lunch with Ronda?”

They both nodded, and the matter was settled.

“Aren’t they dears?” Ronda cooed. “How they can come from such a hard man, I have no idea. He sure has his eyes out for you.”

“Shhh.” Ella said, motioning toward the girls.

“Ach, you stick up for him,” Ronda said. “The girls don’t understand, but you must have taken my words to heart by the expression on your face.”

“Would you quit it?” Ella said, mouthing the words to Ronda and making her laugh.

“I guess I am about as changeable as the wind. Mamm always said so anyway. I must say that bishop of yours is a much nicer prospect.”

Ella glared at her, which only produced laughter from the window.

“Well, I’ve got work to do,” Ronda said, shutting the window.

Work—seemingly things always came down to that. Life was full of work. “Come,” she said, taking Sarah’s hand. “We also have to get to work, don’t we? Did you girls have breakfast?”

“Yah,” Mary said, “Daett made some oatmeal and fried eggs.”

“Oh.” Ella said, holding open the door.
It’s tough to imagine Preacher Stutzman fixing eggs and oatmeal in any edible condition
.

Ella had no sooner settled the girls in the basement than she heard buggy wheels in the driveway. Above her, the basement door to the house opened, and she heard Ronda say, “It’s him. He’s back. What did you do to him?”

“Shhh.” Ella whispered, looking over at Mary and Sarah, who were already busy at play on the floor.

“I best stay with them,” Ronda said, “while you go out. I’m sure he’s not back for nothin’.”

“Maybe he forgot something,” Ella said. “I have no idea what else it could be.”

“Who does with that man,” Ronda said, now standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Go outside quick…before he comes in.”

Ella turned to Mary and Sarah and said, “Girls, I’ll be right back. Ronda will stay with you until I return.” Both girls looked briefly to Ronda and went back to their play.

As Ella walked outside, Preacher Stutzman was tying his horse. When he saw her, he waited. That could only mean one thing. He wanted to speak in private, away from the house.

“Ronda is with the girls,” Ella said, uncertain as to how she should act.

He nodded. His hat was not in his hands, as it usually was when he talked to her. It was seated firmly on his head.

“I had to speak with you,” he said with a determined voice.

Oh, he’s using his Sunday voice, but something is different about it
. The Sunday passion was there, but it also held a sort of gentleness she hadn’t expected.

“Yah?” she said, looking up to his face.

“I am not a man of great words. Yet I cannot let this go on like it is. I must speak to you of what is right.”

At once Ella knew what was to come, though he hadn’t yet said the words. Like the sun rising over the hill with light and brilliance, it was clear. How she knew, she couldn’t say. But perhaps it was always this way when a man spoke his heart.

“My daughters need a mother, and it seems they have found one in you. I cannot but speak for them…and ask for your hand in marriage.”

Ella weighed her words. “You know I’m seeing the bishop. For that reason, I’m not free to give you an answer.”

“Then you do not say no?”

“I do not say no…” she said, “nor do I say yes. May I ask what you think the bishop will say when he hears of this?” Ella met his eyes. Soon his hat would come off, and he would begin circling it in his fingers. He reached for his hat as she waited.

He took the rim in his fingers, lowered it, and held the hat tight by his side. “The bishop can say what he wishes. I will tell him to his face the rightness of my question. My daughters need the mother
Da Hah
has sent them.”