The Fiddler (35 page)

Mingled with Amelia’s joy at being chosen as concertmaster was also a sense of loss. She longed to recapture the enchanting July evening she’d spent with Michael, in some ways the catalyst that had helped to give her the courage to step out and take a chance as she had. She made the trip to the Morgantown exit, trying to retrace her steps the night of the torrential rainstorm. But to no avail.

It was pointless to stop at the convenience store just off the freeway, as she had done in the storm to get gas, because she didn’t remember any of the names on the road signs. She did recall a mobile home park, but she was presently going in circles, and thick snowflakes were beginning to stick to her windshield.

The more Amelia tried to locate the tranquil cabin, the more confused she became on the back roads.

Giving up as she spotted the main highway, she headed in the direction of the on-ramp. Surely she could at least return to Hickory Hollow for part of the afternoon. She wanted to stop in briefly to see Ella Mae Zook and to say happy New Year—and to thank her, as well. Yes, that’s what she would do. After all, she was this close, so why not?

With renewed anticipation, Amelia merged onto the highway, this time headed south . . . to the heart of Amish country.

———

Amelia had no trouble finding the Old Philadelphia Pike, nor the back roads leading to Hickory Lane. She was thankful for that, as the snow was coming fast now, and she knew she couldn’t stay long.

Ella Mae came to the back door right away when Amelia knocked. She greeted her with a wide smile, eyes big as she realized who was there. “Well, lookee here! Miss Amelia . . . ach, won’t ya come right in.”

Without more ado, Ella Mae tottered over to her teakettle, which she said was always simmering, “just waiting for tea.” Being back in the Wise Woman’s cheery kitchen brought back a rush of good memories. And over peppermint tea with honey and some warm cranberry bread and snickerdoodles, Amelia thanked the dear woman for helping her understand what was most important.
Finding one’s purpose in life . . . and prayer.

She also shared with Ella Mae about her exciting new position with the Philadelphia Orchestra. The Wise Woman smiled and bobbed her head. “Do you plan to move closer, just maybe?” she asked, and Amelia said she hadn’t gotten that far but would most likely commute and stay over for rehearsals and concerts for the first few months.

“Have you seen much of Elizabeth now that she’s home?” Amelia asked.

“Oh yes.” Ella Mae’s eyes softened. “Our Lizzie finally came to her senses.” She reached to give Amelia’s hand a pat. “And you, my dear one, are a big reason for that.”

“Well . . . I’m sure her family prayed for her, too.”

“Oh jah, no doubt. And there’s talk that she’s hoping to join church next year.” Ella Mae drew a quick breath. “I can tell ya there’ll be plenty of sniffling when that Sunday rolls round.”

“I can just imagine.” Amelia guessed Michael would also be among those bowing their knee next September.

“Word has it that Elizabeth is even seein’ her former beau—a right nice Amish fella—one of Mary Stoltzfus Beiler’s handsome nephews. Don’t that beat all?”

“Will she marry him, do you think?” Amelia asked.

Ella Mae chuckled, but she shook her head. “Now, we ain’t s’posed to know any of that till the couple’s published two weeks before the wedding. ’Tis anyone’s guess, for now.”

“Well, Elizabeth’s still young. She’s got plenty of time.”

“Round here, seventeen or eighteen isn’t too early to marry . . . not when you know you’ve found the one you’re meant for,” Ella Mae said.

Looking out at the blowing snow, Amelia thanked her for the tea and wished her a happy New Year. Then she rose and said good-bye, knowing she would miss the dear woman.

“You’re always welcome.” Ella Mae insisted on getting up and walking with her to the door. Then, peering out at what had become near-blizzard conditions, she said, “For pity’s sake! I can’t let ya drive in this weather.”

“Oh, I’ll be okay.”

“Well, I didn’t say you wouldn’t be. But if you ain’t in a rush to get home, why not just spend the night here? You can start out fresh in the morning, once the snow’s done.”

Amelia thanked her but didn’t want to infringe on her generosity.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinkin’ . . . you don’t want to be a bother, ain’t?”

“You’ve figured me out,” Amelia admitted, feeling so at home here.

“Well, it’d make better sense to just bring in your fiddle and make this old woman mighty happy with some music by the fire. And stay put for the night—safe and sound.”

Amelia laughed in agreement. “All right, I’ll stay, but only if you’ll let me help with supper. It’s only fair.”

“I’ll let ya help if you play music afterward. How’s that?”

Amelia couldn’t suppress her smile. For all the trouble she’d caused with her fiddling last visit, she hoped word wouldn’t get out that she was back serenading one of Hickory Hollow’s oldest church members.

Slipping on her jacket and scarf, she hurried out to the car for her violin, feeling incredibly warm inside.

“Such a heavy, wet snow,” Lillianne said as she looked at her husband, who’d scooted his rocking chair up close to the heater stove. Paul looked so gloomy today, and she had to make an effort to keep her own voice cheerful. She didn’t feel much like making small talk, but Paul seemed to want the company. Christmas had come and gone awful quick, or so it seemed, and now Michael’s room was emptied out except for the bed and the oak bureau. The image of him up there packing his clothes and personal possessions was still stamped on her heart, and it was all she could do just now to hold back her tears.

“What’s a-matter, Lily?” Paul looked up at her, frowning and pushing his fingers through his beard. “I know you’re a-frettin’. Can feel it over here.”

“Well now, I’m just missin’ our boy.”

Paul folded his arms. “I daresay he’s better off leaving now—rejecting the church vow—than promising to live Amish all the days of his life and turning his back on it years from now.”

Lillianne considered that quietly.

“Just look what happened to another draftsman from round here.”

“You’re thinkin’ of Daniel Fisher.” Lillianne put a bunch of potatoes in her apron and carried them over to the table to peel. She sat there working, waiting for her husband to respond, and when he didn’t she looked to see him fishing around for his blue kerchief. Oh, how her heart went out to the poor man!

Daniel’s under the Bann, along with his Katie,
she thought sadly, shuddering to think how that might have been Michael. This way, as long as he had breath, they could hope and pray he’d come back and join church.
Someday, O Lord.

“ ’Least we aren’t estranged from Michael,” Paul added.

“Maybe he has more to learn out in the world.”

“Could be . . . only the Good Lord knows all that,” said Paul thoughtfully. “Knows his heart, inside and out. And the day our son falls to his knees in contrition before the brethren will make all this waiting worthwhile.”

“We’ll just keep prayin’ to that end.”

Paul got up and went to the sink, where he splashed water on his face.
Hiding his feelings . . .

Lillianne was glad to make her husband’s favorites for supper tonight—Basque potatoes, crunchy chicken, and pickled red beets. And she’d made a cherry pie with whipped cream for dessert, too. Such a fine supper would help boost their spirits some, given it was just the two of them at the table. She wouldn’t let herself think about Michael’s supper plans just now, no doubt eating over with their English relatives.

Lord bless them.
 . . .

A
melia blinked into the glare of sun on the snowy landscape as she waited for Ella Mae to awaken from her nap. The violin case was open on the table, the temperature of the small house warming her fiddle. Amelia felt cozy and sheltered in the welcoming bungalow; she wished some of her musician friends could see her here. Wouldn’t they love to meet Ella Mae, too!

Such serenity . . . the snow falling against the backdrop of barn and silos.
Amelia was very glad she’d decided to stay.

When she looked to her right, toward the farmhouse across the field, she was surprised to see the dark figure of a woman walking this way, all bundled up in a black woolen shawl over her long black dress, with a black scarf, mittens, and boots, and a black bonnet—in a candlesnuffer style—stark against the brilliance. The woman carried a large basket, head down as she leaned into the wind.

Going to the door, Amelia peered out, watching as the woman approached the porch. It was then she caught sight of Joanna’s face. “Hello . . . we meet again!” she said, opening the door, so happy to see her friend.

Joanna gave the sweetest smile. “Ach, I’ve missed ya!” Inside, she set down her basket of goodies, then reached to give Amelia a hug.

By then Ella Mae’s eyes were fluttering open. The tiny woman had undoubtedly been roused by the sudden commotion. The two young women chattered quietly in the kitchen while Joanna removed her wraps and boots. “I’m ever so glad you’re here,” Joanna told Amelia. “I kept wonderin’ if that was your car parked outside, but with all the snow it was hard to tell, really.”

Amelia explained that she was on her way home from Philadelphia, where she’d just auditioned, and she shared the exciting news about her new position there.

Joanna brightened even more, saying she hoped it meant they might see each other more frequently. “Is that a possibility?”

“I’ll certainly see to it!”

Ella Mae rose and, using her cane, hobbled over to investigate the basket of goodies from Joanna. She removed the cloth covering and beamed at the sight of the varieties of treats inside. “Well, now, ’tis a
gut
thing the two of you are here visiting, ain’t? We’ll have us a fine dessert, and there’s enough for breakfast tomorrow, too.” Then she asked Joanna if she’d like to stay for supper.

Much to Amelia’s delight, Joanna agreed. “I’ll have to let my parents know, so they won’t wonder.” Amelia offered to accompany her back home, and they donned their wraps—Amelia’s long red coat and Joanna’s black one. Then off they went, holding their scarves over their faces. Their eyes peeked out just enough to see where they were going.