The Bridesmaid (16 page)

“No need to cook tonight,” Joanna said.

Mammi shuffled over and touched her arm. “How'd your Mamma know I was under the weather?”

“Let's see.” Joanna glanced at the ceiling. “From that trusty ol' grapevine, perhaps?”

Her grandmother gave a little laugh, then teetered a bit. Right quick, Joanna helped her back to her chair. “Maybe I should stay awhile and help ya serve supper,” Joanna offered. “If ya would like.”

“Ain't necessary, really. Fannie will be checkin' up, like always.” Her daughter-in-law Fannie lived in the main farmhouse with her husband and children.

“If you're sure, then.”

“Oh jah . . . ever so sure.” Mammi nodded, though she looked pale. “But before ya leave, I wondered what ya thought of the wedding quilt Malinda found.”

“It's astonishingly perty. I love havin' it, Mammi.”

“Didja know your name's the same as the great-great-aunt who made it?”

“Really?”

“'Tis true . . . and Joanna wasn't a typical Amish name in those days.” Mammi crossed her hands over her bosom. “That's why I thought you should have the quilt.”

Not because she thought I'd be marrying anytime soon. . . .

“It's beautifully made,” Joanna said.

“Oh, it's just the most wonderful quilt . . . for more than one important reason.”

“Sometime, I'd like to hear more 'bout it,” she ventured, heeding Mamma's wishes about staying too long.

“We'll need some time alone for that,” Mammi said, her eyes flashing a secret. “Just the two of us.”

“I'll look forward to it.” Joanna set the hot dish on the back burner for warming later. “You sure it's all right for me to leave?”

“Abseelutt.”
Despite her ashen face, Mammi was emphatic. “Come by anytime, dear.”

Joanna went to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Be sure to tell Dawdi or Fannie to bring ya over to see Mammi Sadie sometime, all right?”

“That I will.” Mammi's smile was precious. “And you tell your Mamma that Dawdi and I are grateful for the delicious supper. Smells awful
gut.
”

“I will.” With that, Joanna headed for the back door. Knowing her name was the same as the quilt maker's tickled her no end. Moreover, considering the preacher's visit—and Ella Mae's depressing remarks about long-distance romances—it was the nicest thing Joanna had heard all day.

Now, what else did Mammi know about that extra-special quilt?

O
ne after another, cars with impatient drivers rushed past the horse and carriage as Joanna reined the mare closer to the safety of the shoulder. Yet she didn't hurry the horse whatsoever. She needed this time to contemplate all the many events of this Friday.

Ella Mae's words continued to turn in Joanna's head, begging for attention, even though Joanna wished to push them aside. She turned her thoughts back to the quilt. It was odd, but she wondered if the wedding quilt was somehow destined to have been passed along through the family to her . . . if for no other reason than to offset her doubts. She honestly didn't know what to think about the young man who loved her but who seemingly had no plan of action that would permit them to marry anytime soon. Even so, the quilt from the past encouraged her.

She tried to picture her great-great-aunt—surely as resourceful and diligent as Joanna's own mother and grandmothers—sewing and humming as she worked . . . perhaps praying? Oh, she felt so reassured by the thought. It was almost as if the Lord was whispering in her ear,
All is well, my child.

Her soul had to be silenced so Joanna could hear the still, small voice of God. Only then could she relinquish the reins of her life to her heavenly Father . . . and breathe a grateful prayer.

———

Joanna had just rounded the bend leading toward the fork in the road—the left side headed to Hickory Lane—when she noticed a young man walking on the other side, going in the same direction she was. He turned slightly, and she realized it was Freckles Jake.

Well, of all things!

He smiled and waved, and without a smidgen of hesitation, he called to her, “Joanna! Would ya mind giving me a lift?”

“Any other time, but I need to get home quickly.”

His face fell. “All right, then.”

Immediately, she felt guilty. Would it really be so bad to take him home or wherever he was headed? She thought better of it. “Well, if you're not goin' too far out of my way,” she said, slowing the horse.

“Mighty kind of you,” he said and thanked her.

She veered the horse off the road and stopped so Jake could hop in on the left. She hoped he'd stay put over there and not slide toward her for any funny business. Though for all the rumors, she'd never encountered anything out of the ordinary with him.

“Where're ya goin'?” she asked, suddenly feeling shy with him sharing the seat.

“Over yonder, past your father's farm—to Ella Mae's.”

She was shocked, because she didn't know a young man would admit to going to see the Wise Woman. “Interesting,” she replied, unable to keep her smile in check.

“Why's that?” The late-afternoon sun poured in on him, making his hair look redder than usual.

“Ach, I don't know,” she said, embarrassed.

“Well, I think you do.” He was grinning.

“Ella Mae's one terrific listener, for sure.”
We all need to talk to someone
, she thought.

He shrugged.

“I can take you there, if you'd like.”

“No, that's all right. I'll just get out at your place and go through the cornfield, if ya don't mind.” He removed his straw hat, running his hand across the top of it. Then, glancing at her, he said, “I appreciate the ride.”

“Don't mind at all.”

He started to say something, then stopped and donned his hat. She was relieved. What if he asked if she was going to the next Singing? She didn't want to hurt him.

Besides, I belong to someone else,
she thought.
Don't I?

Her visit to Ella Mae's had certainly stirred up some issues. That and meeting with Jake on the road today—it was almost as if he'd turned up to reinforce the Wise Woman's remarks about local boys.

A few minutes later, they turned into her father's lane. “Here we are,” she said, amazed how quickly Jake bounded out of the buggy, like he wanted to impress her. Then, before saying another word, he tied up the horse.

She turned to thank Jake for this small and unexpected favor and found him right behind her. His hazel eyes sparkled as he grinned at her. “Pleased to help . . . anytime, really.” Then, crossing the barnyard, he turned to wave—twice.

Laughing a little at Jake's eagerness, Joanna headed around the side of the house and was completely astonished to see someone sitting on the back porch steps. There, looking altogether handsome, was none other than Eben Troyer!

H
ullo, Joanna.” Eben remained seated for a moment, reconsidering his visit in the awkwardness of the moment. Had he done the right thing showing up unannounced?

But Joanna's contagious smile lifted the roof right off his heart, and he rose to meet her. “Ach, Eben . . . I . . . when did ya get here?” she stuttered, searching his face.

“A few minutes ago.”

She was staring with disbelief, and if he wasn't mistaken, there were silent tears in her pretty eyes. “Ach, it's so
gut
to see you again! Does anyone know you're here?” She looked about her.

“I knocked, but no one came to the door. So I sat myself down to wait, and now you're here.” He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her right there in broad daylight, but that wasn't called for. For one thing, he'd come bearing bad news. And for another, he couldn't easily dismiss the jovial fellow who had been riding with Joanna. Eben had never seen someone so smitten. He wondered why she hadn't introduced him before he ran off.

“Care to go walkin'?” he said.

“Or we could take the carriage.” Joanna's eyes sparkled, and he saw again how exceptionally pretty she was. “We could walk along Weaver's Creek, if you'd like.”

He didn't have the heart to tell her there was no time for riding like last time. Besides, lingering at the creek would simply prolong things. “I really can't stay,” he said, pushing the words out.

Her face turned pale. “Why not?”

“I have a round-trip bus ticket. Gotta leave today.” He couldn't bear her disappointed expression.

“I don't understand.”

“We need to talk over some important things.” He motioned toward the field lane on this side of the cornfield, where they'd walked in the cold and snow last November. Now that he was here, seeing her . . . he wanted to reach for her hand and feel it nestled in his, the way they'd walked before. Eben found it hard to voice what he'd come to say. Not hard, no—nearly impossible.

Joanna looked up at him as they headed across the driveway, a frown piercing her lovely face. And it was then he realized he was walking much too fast. He must slow down, slow everything down and take his time—
their time—
so he wouldn't regret it later. He had to first muster the courage to tell her how disappointed he was, soothe her with his own sadness, somehow.

He forged ahead. “My plans have suddenly changed, Joanna. Things are out of my control.” He felt her stiffen as they walked beside each other, the electricity still evident between them.

“What do you mean?”

“You know I'd hoped to court you here.” Eben drew a breath. Could he get the words out without making a fool of himself? “But circumstances have gotten in the way.” His voice sounded foreign even to him. “It's become impossible for me to move to Hickory Hollow, after all.”

Her eyes widened. “What's happened?”

He had to make her understand, so he tried again. “Leroy has thrown a wrench into everything. He got himself married to an outsider—brought her home to meet the family just yesterday.”

“So . . . he's not comin' back, then?”

He shook his head. “I prayed he would get fed up with English life and come home to work with our father—and take my place.”

She nodded her head slowly. “And there's no other choice but for you to stay put there?”

“My father can't manage on his own.”

She fell silent as they walked farther away from the house.

After a time, he felt compelled to answer the unspoken question hanging between them. “I just had to come see ya, Joanna. I couldn't put this to you in a letter.” If only she hadn't written so often about her great fondness for Hickory Hollow, this whole thing would've been much easier! “You deserved better, so I wanted to come here, to tell you in person.”

“I don't know what to say.” She stared at the ground for the longest time.

“What if you could move to Shipshewana?”

She immediately looked horrified, as if it was unthinkable. “I've never really considered it, Eben.” She sighed audibly. “Thought you wanted to—”

“I know it's a lot to ask.”

She shook her head, eyes glistening.

“You all right?” he asked, touching her elbow.

She flinched slightly. Then, raising her head to the sky, she pursed her lips and glanced toward a farm in the near distance . . . then smiled faintly.

What was this expression? Was she actually relieved they were parting ways?

He waited for her to say more, but when she continued in her silence, he remembered the auburn-haired young man who'd enthusiastically waved good-bye to her. No question, that fellow was sweet on Joanna.

Understandably so . . .

Somehow he found the courage to ask, “What is your bishop's stance on transferring church membership?” He hadn't wanted to broach this topic, didn't want to put her on the spot. He did recall her mother's pointed response to this during the last visit, but he needed to hear directly from Joanna.

“Bishop John's mighty strict,” she stated, then paused like she was struggling terribly. “No, I doubt I'd be permitted to leave . . . now.”

Eben wished he hadn't asked.

———

Joanna was so stunned she could scarcely speak.
He came all this way just to say good-bye?
She could not grasp this terrible turn of events. Truth was, Eben seemed at a loss to say more about his dilemma, simply blaming his brother Leroy for this mess. And the fact that Eben had asked, nearly out of the blue, if she'd move to Shipshewana . . .
What timing!
She was too embarrassed to tell him about the preacher's warning, especially now, when Eben seemed to be breaking up with her. Oh, how she loved him! How could she let him just give up on their relationship—everything they'd meant to each other?

Even so, she'd made a vow to God and to
this
church district, so there was no considering a move away to Indiana. Certainly not when Preacher Yoder's counsel burned in her ears.

Considering everything, it didn't make a whit of sense to keep walking like this, dragging out the inevitable. Her heart was being torn further with every step.

“I'm truly sorry it's come to this, Joanna,” Eben said quietly. “I just see no way out . . . not anymore.”

Because I'm not able to move to Indiana,
she thought, knowing she'd pushed herself into a corner because of her love for writing. No, Leroy wasn't the only one who'd created this problem.

Joanna couldn't look at Eben for fear he might see her dismay.

They walked another few minutes without talking. She felt like Mamma's pressure cooker as the chasm between them grew by the second.

“I kept hopin' to see us together somehow,” he said glumly. “I can't say enough how sorry I am.”

“I'm sorry, too,” she said, hoping he'd understand how much she cared for him. But she didn't dare ask anything more . . . she felt she was being as pushy as Jake was said to be. If only she could erase all the months of their separation and turn the clock back to the evening they'd first met in Virginia. When the world seemed to tilt as the sun fell into the ocean. When he'd whispered into her hair . . .

They were approaching the far perimeter of her father's field, where the grazing land bordered Ella Mae's son-in-law's property. Feeling forlorn and terribly helpless, Joanna looked toward the Wise Woman's Dawdi Haus again and remembered her pointed caution. True to form, she had not minced words.
“Complications,”
Ella Mae had said about long-distance relationships.

Joanna wanted to turn around and hurry back to the house, put this painful visit behind her. But in that moment, she spotted Jake Lantz sitting with Ella Mae under a shade tree on a double glider.
Can he see us out here?
she wondered, hoping not. As it was, Eben might very well be peeved at her being with Jake earlier. She almost wondered if she ought to say something, clarify that Jake had asked
her
for a ride—that he was nothing but a casual friend, if that. But might that only draw attention to Jake? Oh, she didn't know what to do!

“We should prob'ly head back,” Eben said. “I need to call for a cab soon.”

Her heart sank as she pointed to the telephone shanty in the next field over. The very spot where she'd looked forward to going to hear his voice. She sighed, choking back tears.

Eben offered a nod, then headed off in that direction.

Observing him walk, his posture so straight, his black suspenders perfectly crisscrossed against his white short-sleeved shirt—
he wore his for-
gut
clothes again
—Joanna refused to cry.
“Either a fella wants ya or he doesn't,”
she'd heard Ella Mae say some years ago.
“No sense in pleading for what's goin' to fizzle anyways.”

No, Joanna wouldn't fight for what could not be, and she wouldn't fret over him, not in his presence, anyhow.

She would sorely miss his calls and the many letters postmarked from Shipshewana. They had become such an important part of her weeks . . . her life.

In the depths of her heart, Joanna knew this parting meant much more than losing a beau. Joanna felt her last chance to marry for love slipping away.

Brokenhearted, she watched Eben open the wooden door to the shanty and reach for the telephone.