Ella Finds Love Again (Little Valley 3)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Could she leave all the turmoil behind? Robert looked as if he had. The Sunday of his first baptismal class he had led the way upstairs since he was the oldest. Perhaps he thought it an honor. He sure held his head high. That was a matter she would have to instruct him on. People would expect him to show some humility, lowering his head during church matters.

  Yet Robert was a very humble man, otherwise he never would have stuck it out this long. And in six months he would be baptized, and they could date officially. Her heart raced at the thought. What would that be like? To have a man she truly loved, one who gripped her heart, her mind, and her imagination? Six months was a long time, and so much could happen.

  She had to trust, as hard as that was. One simply couldn’t go through life and always expect bad things to happen. That had been Dora’s way, not hers. It would embitter her in ways she didn’t want if she let it continue.

  “Time to go inside!” she called to Mary and Sarah. “We have work to do.”

  They ran toward her, and Ella watched with concern lest they fall and skin their knees. She sighed with relief when both girls got to her safely, still on their feet. Already she was a worried mother hen fussing over her children.

  Carefully Ella helped Sarah down the first wet basement step, though she insisted she could make it on her own. Ella let go of her hand, and she did indeed arrive at the bottom unharmed, a proud smile on her face.

  “You did it!” Ella said. Sarah soaked up the encouragement.

  For lunch, Ella made sandwiches and sat down to eat with the girls. By one o’clock she had the kitchen table cleaned and the girls down for their naps. A knock on the basement door came without warning. She jumped and turned toward the door.

  When she walked over and opened it, Robert was standing there. She held out her hands, and he gently took them in his.

  “Robert,” she said.

  “Now, now,” he said, releasing her hands. “We can’t be acting like this all the time. I’m not even baptized yet.”

  “I guess you’re right,” she said. “How did you drive in without me hearin’ you?”

  “I’m just that way,” he said with a smile. “But if you want to see, the buggy is right up there.”

  She walked past him, went up a step or two and saw the horse tied to the hitching post.

  “Still don’t trust me?” he asked.

  “I do,” she said. “I just had to look.”

  “Are the girls down for their naps?”

  “Yah,” she said. “We can talk quietly, and they won’t wake up.”

  “That’s good,” he said. “How would I take German lessons without talking? But I can’t stay long today, and I want to talk about us, if you don’t mind.”

  “Oh…” Ella sighed. “Something has come up, I guess?”

  “No,” he said, his eyes on her face. “Relax, Ella. Nothing like that. It’s just that Bishop Miller told me about Aden, about all that you have lost already. I’d heard of your love for Aden, but not as Bishop Miller told it. I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through. I wanted to tell you I know about how hurt you were by his death.”

  “When did he tell you?” she asked.

  “Only yesterday,” he said without hesitation. “Always the questions, yah?”

  “I suppose it will take a while for me to not worry so.”

  “Aden must have been a very good man.”

  “He was,” she said.

  “I’m sorry I never got to meet him.”

  “Our people believe that in all things, Da Hah knows what He’s doing. We must live that way, even in the midst of great pain.”

  “He has led us together, and for that I am glad,” Robert said, sitting down at the kitchen table.

  “I am glad also,” she whispered, taking the chair beside him.

  For long moments they sat in silence. Then he reached for her hand, gently running his fingers over hers.

  “How soon can I marry you?” he asked.

  “Marry me? Don’t the Englisha usually ask first?”

  He laughed. “Yes, but I mean by the rules of the church.”

  “As soon as you’re baptized.”

  “That’s not too long then,” he said.

  “You still have to ask,” she said.

  He smiled. “And can a person ask before he’s baptized?”

  Ella nodded, not daring to meet his eyes and not wanting tears to come. She felt his fingers touch her chin and lift her face upward until her eyes met his.

  “Then will you marry me, Ella Yoder—fiery Amish woman and the hope of all my dreams?”

  “You must have met someone else,” she whispered. “That’s not me.”

  “I have never met anyone else,” he said. “Just answer the question.”

  “It is yah,” she said, pressing back the tears, holding the moment in her heart.

  He didn’t answer aloud but brought his face closer to hers, his hands on both sides of her face, pulling her toward him.

  She closed her eyes, waiting for his lips, but they never came. She opened her eyes as his cheek brushed hers.

  “I think I’d better get baptized first,” he said, chuckling softly.

  “Perhaps,” she whispered, drinking in every line of his face, tracing them with her fingers.

  “I think I’ll change my name to Bontrager,” he said.

  “No! I like Hayes,” she said, pushing him away.

  “But it’s not Amish,” he said. “Is name changing against the rules?”

  “No, but you mustn’t.”

  “Aren’t Amish wives submissive? If I say so, then it will be so.”

  She laughed.

  “And we will, of course, live here.”

  “So that’s what you’ve been after all along. You’re marrying me for the house.”

  “Ella, I really only want you.” He took her into his arms, holding her against his chest.

  The embrace lasted until Ella regained herself and said, “So, are there to be German lessons today?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said, getting to this feet. “I promised to help Bishop Miller with some work on the farm. And there will be plenty of time for German lessons yet. My whole life, yah?”

  “Our whole life,” Ella corrected. “If Da Hah wills it.”

  “Yah,” he said, smiling. “And may He will it.” Then he was gone, as silently as he had come.

  Ella walked to the basement window to watch him go, stepping outside to catch the last glimpse of his buggy over the top of the stairs as he drove north.

  The afternoon air had already begun to chill, and soon nighttime would drop the temperature even lower. Had this all been a dream? She felt the racing of her heart drop to a slow beat. She would believe it, impossible as it was. Da Hah had really sent someone for her, and they would live here, in this place, raising a family and growing old together.

  Forty-three

  Ella watched as the bishop’s hand cupped over Robert’s head, his form kneeling in line with four boys and seven girls. Twelve of them all together, a holy number, as holy as the day itself was. Robert looked peaceful, his eyes cast down to the hardwood floor, humbling himself for the sacred ritual.

  “In the name of Da Fader,” Bishop Miller said, as the deacon nervously tipped the water pitcher, a little stream squirting out, hitting Robert’s head, splashing upward and dampening the sides of the bishop’s hand.

  “In the name of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” Bishop Miller said, as the deacon sent a second and third stream downward.

  Slowly the bishop broke the cup of his hands, bringing his hands down over the sides of Robert’s head before moving on.

  Ella was holding her breath, unable to move. The girl seated beside her glanced sideways. Let her look and think what she wants to, Ella thought. It is done and Robert is now a member of the community…of the faith. Come rain, or shine, or snow, or cold, or winter, this can never be undone for as long as Robert shall live.

  The bishop w
as moving on down the line, repeating the words, but Ella sat drinking in the lines of Robert’s face. He wasn’t moving, holding as still as the others, waiting quietly. How had the man become like them so quickly? He had shed fully the outward signs of an Englisha life, until even to her eyes he looked thoroughly Amish.

  Last night she’d had a horrible dream, in which all these weeks vanished like a desert mirage. Yet today it had happened, and no one could deny the water poured on his head. Her Robert was now Amish.

  She lay her hand over her heart. This afternoon she would be with him in the buggy. Was such a thing even possible? In the simplest ways of her people, Robert loved her, and even the young bishop had accepted it. From the names circulating, he would surely marry later in the year.

  The bishop was moving back down the line, starting back at the beginning, lifting each boy to his feet, kissing him on the cheek. When he came to Robert, he offered his hand, and Robert slowly got to his feet. The bishop bent his face toward him, and Ella squeezed her eyes shut. It was too much to watch, too holy a moment.

  Then, helping the girls to rise, the bishop gave each hand to Bishop Mast’s wife, who kissed the girl as the bishop moved down the line. He motioned with his hand after the last one was helped to her feet and kissed, and the newly baptized sat down together, Robert bending his knees in perfect time. Ella glanced away again.

  “And now would Mose Mullet, Henry Byler, and John Raber please give testimony on what has happened here today?” Bishop Miller said, sitting down.

  Ella shifted carefully on her bench as the low voices droned on, giving their consent to the day’s proceedings. Stillness settled over the room. Finally, the song leader called out, “Page four hundred and fifty-five,” his voice splitting the reverent silence.

  Ella paged through the black songbook as a man’s deep baritone broke into song behind her. On the second syllable the whole room joined in, singing with a great burst of joyous sound. Ella sang along, her voice rising and falling with the women around her.

  Robert was singing too, his mouth opening and closing as he intently studied the small German words on the page.

  Soon he would learn to lead the songs. He would because he was learning everything else so rapidly, and she was sure she would pass out with fright the first time he had to lead out in church. But he would make it with the best of them. His voice would soar and fall with passion, and her heart would race for him because she loved him so dearly.

  As the last note died away, Bishop Miller was on his feet again. “And now may the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob be with us, and may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ keep us in the paths of God, and may we always find ourselves with hearts soft and obedient to Da Hah’s Word.”

  The bishop then sat down again, and the front bench of little boys sprang to their feet, dashing away with what speed they dared muster. Behind them the teenage boys followed, and then Robert’s row. Ella watched, noting her Robert’s erect bearing, the tinge of wetness still in his hair, the way his hand swept down to gather up his hat, and the strength in his body as he leaped down the front steps. Her row of girls rose slowly to their feet, and Ella followed the line out to the kitchen.

  “I can help with lunch,” she volunteered.

  “But you’re a visitor,” Mary Ellen replied.

  “I want to serve the older boy’s table,” Ella said, feeling the warmth rush up her neck.

  “Oh,” Mary Ellen said with a twinkle in her eye. “That Englisha Robert of yours was baptized, yah.”

  “Yah,” Ella said, “he was.”

  “The older boys will be in the front room,” Mary Ellen said, pointing toward the long line of peanut butter bowls on the kitchen table. “You know what to do then.”

  Ella nodded and waited in line against the wall, following the other two girls who were assigned to the same table.

  Would Robert make the first table? Well, if he didn’t, she would also serve the next seating. Her own hunger could wait.

  Her eyes lifted slightly from the floor, searching the boys’ faces, seeing no sign of Robert as she approached the table. Then there he was, meeting her eyes, looking between the backs of the others, smiling broadly.

  Ella glanced away but kept walking toward his section of the table.

  She leaned over the suspender-strapped backs and set the peanut butter bowls on the table, daring to look up, her heart racing again at the depth in his blue eyes. Quickly she moved away, trying to keep breathing evenly. How is it right to love a man so much? Yet Da Hah is allowing it, isn’t He? She walked back to the kitchen for more bread and came back to pass the plate in from the end before going back for more peanut butter. She felt his eyes follow her the whole time.

  “Come on now, Robert,” a boy said, guffawing. “It’s time to eat. Sunday afternoons are made for that other kind of stuff.”

  “That’s right,” someone else said. “Your wedding’s coming soon enough, I’m sure.”

  “She’s a wunderbar woman,” he said, his voice low and deep.

  The whole table erupted in laughter, and Ella kept walking, avoiding the smiles of the girls passing her.

  It was worth it! Let them have their fun. Hopefully Robert understood what this meant. He was now one of them, and their laughter was the highest honor they could give him.

  After he finished eating, Ella watched as her man left the house for the barn. Robert would go out and get his new buggy ready and then pick her up. She loved that his buggy still smelled of fresh paint even after all these months. It was strange how she noticed that. Eli and Monroe had both driven new buggies, but this was a deeper smell, a poignant odor, as if to add its own flavor to the joy of their love.

  “You can get on the next girl’s table,” one of the girls whispered.

  She nodded and moved over to join the others her own age. The bishop announced the prayer, and they bowed their heads, his words lost in the flood of her own thankfulness.

  Dear Da Hah, thank You so much for the love You have given me again. I’ll never understand how it could happen twice or why Aden had to be taken away. But I trust that You do. Thank You that Robert really is who he says he is, and that he hasn’t broken my heart, even though I imagined he would. There are times when I can’t understand what he sees in me, or even in our people, yet he has become one of us. Thank You.

  “Amen,” the bishop said, and Ella raised her head along with the others. She wanted to wipe her eyes, but that would draw attention and, no doubt, teasing.

  “So Robert made it through instruction class,” the girl beside her said, spreading peanut butter on her bread.

  “Yah,” Ella said, trying to keep her voice clear. “He seems really excited about Amish life.”

  “It’s not often that we have someone join from the outside.”

  “No, it’s not. But Robert is really different. He cares about getting away from the world and starting a new life.”

  “With one eye on you, of course.”

  Ella laughed. “Believe me, I couldn’t hold him if that was all there was to it.”

  “You underestimate yourself, if you ask me,” the girl said. “Wasn’t Bishop Miller after your hand?”

  “Let’s just say we weren’t suited for each other,” Ella said.

  “Well, he seems to agree with you since he helped Robert out the way he did.”

  “That’s because he sees what a great person Robert is.”

  “Aw, you would say so,” the girl said. “But I must agree he’s a nice man.”

  “He’s taken, just remember that,” Ella said with a smile.

  “Oh I know. What a rotten deal.”

  They laughed together quietly.

  Ten minutes later the bishop’s voice boomed through the house. “If we have now eaten, let us give thanks.”

  They bowed again, and after the prayer Ella stood and helped clean the table, soon catching a glimpse of Robert coming out of the barn, leading his horse. He was a little early, but so muc
h the better. She slipped quietly away and gathered her shawl and bonnet in the washroom. He had the horse hitched and was driving up to the end of the walk when she came out of the doorway.

  “Good afternoon,” he said, reaching down to take her hand and help her up to the buggy seat.

  She took his hand and swung up to sit beside him.

  “Amish boys don’t help their girls up the buggy steps,” she said. “You’re going to have to learn that. It will make us soft or something.”

  “What has that got to do with me?” he asked, slapping the reins, guiding the horse out of the lane, the muscles on his arms rippling under his long shirt sleeves.

  She reached over to run her hand from his shoulder to his elbow.

  “Hey,” he said, “you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Because you’re Amish now,” she said.

  “I guess that’s right,” he said with a short laugh. “It feels like I’ve been one for a long time.”

  “It looks like it too,” she said, touching his arm again. “One would think you’ve been working outside for months already. You’ve lost all that city fat, and there’s nothing left but muscle.”

  “So that makes a real Amish?”

  “It helps,” she said, snuggling up against him. “But the baptism was what really did it.”

  “How am I supposed to drive a buggy if you keep leaning against me?”

  “Just keep your hands on the lines. I don’t want to land in the ditch.”

  “Do you think we could land in the ditch?”

  “I doubt it—at least not with you driving.”

  “Then I should be able to drive with one hand, right?”

  “We would wreck for sure,” she said, pushing his hand off her shoulder and placing it back on the lines. “Just drive.”

  “Did I do okay today?”

  “Do okay with what? Everything you do is okay.”

  “Act like an Amish man at my Amish baptism?”

  “I couldn’t have been more Amish myself.”

  “Well, that’s saying something.” He beamed.