The Photograph
Page 24
When I think of leaving Eden Valley behind someday, I know how much I’ll miss my family, and our dear neighbors, too. But being Jed’s bride will be worth the parting many times over—should he ask me.
I’m so thankful to have met a man who shares my heart. Nice as Alfred is, I could never have settled for him. Here lately Miriam Dienner told Naomi Mast that Alfred has met someone in Wisconsin. It’s comforting to know, because Alfred deserves someone to love him, too.
During blistering August, when the cornstalks towered high over us and the humid days stretched longer than the nights, Jed came to Eden Valley for another visit and borrowed Abner’s family carriage to take me riding.
He eased back in the seat and slipped his arm around me. “I’ve been talkin’ with Jonas Byler about renting his carriage shop, and all the tools and equipment, too, just till I can afford to officially take over his business. My time with him and his many connections will be awful handy once I relocate to Lancaster County.”
“Oh, Jed.” Happy tears welled up. “You’re movin’ here.”
We talked further about his plans, including Perry Hostetler’s eagerness to run Uncle Ervin’s buggy shop. Jed also wanted me to attend his sister Bettina’s wedding in Ohio. “My family can meet you at last.”
“Are ya sure you want to move away from them?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He cupped my face with his hands and looked deep into my eyes. “My heart’s right here, Eva . . . with you.”
The following May, when the lily-flowered tulips painted the beds yellow along my parents’ former front porch, Jed dropped by to see me at Abner Masts’. I had accepted their kind offer to stay with them once Menno and his family settled into my childhood home last October.
Jed wanted to walk around “our” pond, and I felt sure something was up. The willow grove behind the Masts’ house was bursting with new foliage, and there beneath the heavenly green canopy, Jed bent down and kissed my cheek. “I’ve been thinking ’bout something,” he said furtively. “But everything hinges on one thing.” He paused and smiled tenderly. “Only one.”
I felt nearly breathless. “What is it?”
He rubbed his smooth chin. “I’m wonderin’ if ya still have that recipe for those tasty truffles,” he said solemnly.
“Believe me, I would never think of losin’ that top-secret recipe!”
“Des gut, ’cause if you’ll have me as your husband this wedding season, those truffles would be perfect at the feast.”
I started laughing so hard I could hardly stop.
“Well, I hope that’s not your answer,” he said, feigning horror. “I mean, a hearty laugh instead of: ‘Jah, Jed, I’ll be happy to marry ya.’”
“Oh, you!” I tried to regain my poise, taking a deep breath. “I would be honored to make irresistible sweets for ya all the days of your life.”
Jed made a big show of wiping his brow. “Ach, you had me worried.”
“Don’t be silly.” I rose up on my tiptoes to kiss his chin.
“My whole family will want to come for our wedding,” Jed said. “That is, once I inform them that you’ve agreed to marry me.”
“And I surely have.” My heart was as full as a cream-filled bonbon.
“By the way, I’ve got an idea. My uncle, a few years older than Frona, might be her ideal match.”
“Really? Surely not a perfect match?”
“Considering he’s nearly as tetchy as Frona can be, they might be cheerfully prickly together.”
I smiled. “And just when do ya plan to introduce this relative of yours?”
“At our wedding, of course.”
“If it’s a match,” I said, the wheels turning in my mind, “Frona won’t have much reason to worry anymore.”
“And Lily?”
“Oh, I assume she’ll continue being a mother’s helper for Bena, at least for the time being. Or do you have more unmarried kin up your sleeve?”
Jed’s laughter rang out. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Later, the sun beat hard on the gray vinyl roof of Jonas’s buggy as we rode, coming upon Ida Mae’s roadside vegetable stand down the way. We waved and she motioned for us to stop and have some ice-cold lemonade. “Freshly made,” she said, bringing two tumblers to the buggy.
“What do ya know? A lemonade drive-in,” Jed joked as he reached into his pocket.
Ida Mae refused his payment. “It’s the least I can do for you two.”
The word’s out. I glanced lovingly at Jed.
Thanking her, we headed onward, and it was a joy to see this verdant area through his eyes, especially when he stopped in front of a modest clapboard house on the east end of Eden Road and pointed to the For Sale sign out front.
“Lookee there.” He leaned forward. “I wonder how hard it would be for someone to build a candy shop in back.” Jed turned to wink at me.
“Are you kiddin’?” I whispered, searching his dear face.
He admired the house again. “Seems solidly built—perfect, too, for tourists comin’ in and out of the lane.”
My smile was so big, I could feel it stretch clear across my face. “When can we see it?” I paused, realizing I was jumping ahead of Jed. “I mean . . .”
He pulled into the lane and checked his wristwatch. “The real estate agent should be arriving right about now.”
My heart was beating wildly. To think I’d worried about having to someday leave my family and Eden Valley!
Later, after seeing every inch of the lovely house, we took our time while driving back toward Abner Mast’s place. And as we turned into the drive, I noticed the front porch swing moving in the breeze.
“I know my parents would’ve liked you,” I said when Jed came around to offer a hand.
“Somehow, I hope they know how happy you are, Eva.”
“Oh, I trust so.” I could hear Abner calling his lead cow in his down-to-earth way, ready to bring the herd home for afternoon milking.
“I’ll water the horse,” Jed told me. “You go in and talk to Naomi. I’m sure you want to.”
With all of my heart, I did. I hurried across the yard, past Naomi’s rainbow of peonies in mature bloom, a gift from Mamma years ago. Standing on the side porch, I took in the rich array of pinks, whites, and crimsons. Gifts of love live on and on. I thought of these flowers appearing every springtime . . . and of Dat and Mamma’s sweet love for each other and for all of us.
Jah, they would rejoice in my love for Jed. The man I was born to love.
Author’s Note
THIS PARTICULAR STORY is sweet to my writer-heart for many reasons. I admit to being drawn to the Amish farmland around which I grew up, and the return to the setting of Eden Valley from The River—and the glimpses of Tilly Lantz Barrows and her growing family—are a result of my desire to step back into this rural area not far from my own childhood home. It was there that my sister and I read Little Women and acted out plays, just as the four celebrated March sisters did. I share Eva’s love for that classic novel, as well as her yearning for a love that makes her heart sing.
Speaking of love, I am grateful to my own dear husband for his superb help with the first edit of the initial manuscript, as well as the appetizing breakfasts and lunches he so cheerfully makes when I’m on deadline. A thousand thanks and more, Dave!
To my faithful prayer partners—Jim and Ann Parrish, David and Janet Buchwalter, Aleta Hirschberg, Iris Jones, Donna DeFor, Judy Verhage, Amy Green, and my immediate family: God bless you abundantly for your care and faithfulness.
To my astute and very supportive editors—David Horton, Rochelle Glöege, Ann Parrish, and Helen Motter: I am in awe of your expertise, encouragement, and the way you seek to enhance my work.
To my research assistants, fact-checkers, and proofreaders—Hank and Ruth Hershberger, Fred Jones, Barbara Birch, Dave Lewis, Rhonda Abbott, Teresa Lang-Tsingine, Jolene Steffer, Cheri Hanson, and dozens of Amish and Mennonite readers and consultants: You continue to play such a
vital role. Thank you!
To my lovely readers: Thanks for your cheery cards, gifts, emails, snail mail, and Facebook posts and messages. You are the dearest reader-friends ever!
Also, I am indebted to the writings of Louisa May Alcott, whose endearing letters and journals I have read and relished for decades, along with her renowned novel Little Women.
Researching my stories is part of the fun of writing, and while I strive for accuracy, sometimes it is necessary to fictionalize certain details. For the sake of this story, I devised a common passenger coach between Alliance, Ohio, and Lancaster, Pennsylvania. After all, Jed needed somewhere to discover that intriguing photograph!
My magnificent Eskimo spitz, Maxie, makes his debut in this story, brought to life again on the page as a reminder of happy childhood days in Lancaster County. And one of my favorite sweets is here too—peanut butter balls like Eva’s own.
As I close this note, I think again of Dottie Esch’s instruction to young Lily. May we all remember that the footprints made on life’s journey can either lead others astray or lead them aright. Thankfully God is ever near to guide when we ask.
Soli Deo Gloria!
Beverly Lewis, born in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country, is the New York Times bestselling author of more than ninety books. Her stories have been published in eleven languages worldwide. A keen interest in her mother’s Plain heritage has inspired Beverly to write many Amish-related novels, beginning with The Shunning, which has sold more than one million copies and is an Original Hallmark Channel movie. In 2007 The Brethren was honored with a Christy Award.
Beverly has been interviewed by both national and international media, including Time magazine, the Associated Press, and the BBC. She lives with her husband, David, in Colorado.
Visit her website at www.beverlylewis.com or www.facebook.com/officialbeverlylewis for more information.
Books by Beverly Lewis
The Photograph
The Love Letters
The River
HOME TO HICKORY HOLLOW
The Fiddler
The Bridesmaid
The Guardian
The Secret Keeper
The Last Bride
THE ROSE TRILOGY
The Thorn • The Judgment The Mercy
ABRAM’S DAUGHTERS
The Covenant • The Betrayal The Sacrifice
The Prodigal • The Revelation
THE HERITAGE OF LANCASTER COUNTY
The Shunning • The Confession The Reckoning
ANNIE’S PEOPLE
The Preacher’s Daughter The Englisher • The Brethren
THE COURTSHIP OF NELLIE FISHER
The Parting • The Forbidden The Longing
SEASONS OF GRACE
The Secret • The Missing The Telling
The Postcard • The Crossroad
The Redemption of Sarah Cain
Sanctuary (with David Lewis)
Child of Mine (with David Lewis)
The Sunroom • October Song
Amish Prayers
The Beverly Lewis Amish Heritage Cookbook
www.beverlylewis.com
Resources: bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook
Website: www.bethanyhouse.com
Facebook: Bethany House