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Mount Hope

Page 23

by Sarah Price


  He glanced at her hand and then his eyes traveled up her arm to look at her face. He gave her a smile that simply said, without words, that he appreciated her support but did not truly believe her. He placed his hand atop hers, letting it linger for a moment, before he turned his attention back to his brother.

  “Oh, Thomas,” he sighed. “If only you could find your way to God.”

  They stood there, her hand upon his shoulder and his hand upon hers, as they watched Thomas sleep. Without speaking, Fanny knew that Elijah was praying for his brother’s recovery just as she had done throughout the day. She watched him, his head bowed just enough so that she could see his lips move as he prayed.

  Oh, Elijah, she thought, if only you could find your way to me.

  Chapter 20

  FANNY!”

  When she heard Elijah call out her name, Fanny stopped walking and turned to see what he wanted. Should she return to the house? Did Naomi want something of her? But Elijah did not beckon her to return. Instead, he stepped off the porch and jogged down the walkway in her direction.

  With her black wool shawl wrapped around her shoulders, for the afternoon air was cold, she stood in the road, shivering as she waited for him to catch up with her.

  Thanksgiving dinner had been a subdued event at the Bontrager household. Unlike past Thanksgivings where the family invited others in their community to join them, this year the family ate alone. Fanny suspected it was partially by choice, although she wondered if they were also afraid to invite others to join them. Certainly Bishop Yoder and his wife would not have accepted, and they always were seated at the Bontrager table for holidays. At least the Yoders wouldn’t have to dine with Henry or Mary either, as Fanny had learned that they’d quietly returned to their home in Gordonville.

  Also absent were Jeb and Miriam. Fanny hadn’t seen Miriam since her return from Colorado, and she couldn’t help but wonder where, exactly, Miriam would spend the day. Certainly Jeb’s family would have issues inviting their new daughter-in-law to celebrate a holiday that commemorated giving thanks when they probably felt little gratitude this year.

  Thomas too was absent from the table. Though his fever had broken, he was too weak yet to sit up for any length of time. But this Thanksgiving offered at least one thing to be thankful for: the prospect of a full recovery. Physically anyway. His spiritual fate, however, remained uncertain.

  After the dishes were washed and the extra food put away, there was too much tension in the kitchen. The blue sky and still air beckoned Fanny. So when Susan declined her suggestion of a walk, opting instead for a nap, she decided to go alone. The fresh air would do her good, especially after the less-than-festive Thanksgiving dinner atmosphere. After so much had happened, she needed time to be alone and to think. Between Thomas’s illness, Miriam’s fall from grace, and Mary’s dismissal from Elijah’s future, there was much to reflect upon.

  But for Elijah she would happily give up her solitude.

  Out of breath when he caught up with her, he took a moment, his hands on his knees as he gulped for air. “I didn’t know you went out for a walk,” he said at last. “I would have accompanied you if you had asked.”

  She gave him a soft smile and began to walk slowly, Elijah falling into a familiar step beside her. “You are now,” she teased.

  With what Fanny thought was an unusual degree of nervousness, he laughed but averted his eyes. For a few moments they walked in silence, the only sound the crunch of the macadam under their shoes.

  She glanced at him and saw that his coat was unbuttoned.

  “You’ll be the next one sick,” she said as she reached over and tugged at his open coat.

  Startled, he glanced down at her hand, which she promptly removed.

  Ever since their conversation at Thomas’s bedside, Elijah had been even more pensive than usual. Of course Fanny understood his reticence to talk. All of his hopes and dreams had been set on his marriage to Mary Coblentz. And while Fanny was not sorry that Mary had been dismissed, she did feel sorry for the hurt in Elijah’s heart. The pain of a trust betrayed seemed far greater than the pain of unrequited love. Ever since she received his letter, her morning and evening prayers had focused on Elijah. If only he would lean on his faith, she thought. God’s plan was not for Elijah to marry Mary Coblentz, and for that, Fanny was thankful. While Elijah had considered marrying her for love, clearly Mary had wanted to marry him for his prospects.

  “You—you are doing well?” Elijah asked at last.

  Fanny nodded. “Ja, but I suppose I should be asking that question of you.”

  Elijah frowned for a moment and then, realizing her meaning, quickly responded, “Oh, ja, for sure.”

  He didn’t sound convincing to Fanny.

  “You know, Fanny,” he said slowly, kicking at a stick in the road. “So much has happened, so much has changed.”

  How could she argue with such a statement? “Indeed.” Her voice carried her own inner turmoil. Naomi’s words still lingered in Fanny’s memory. She often wondered how many others blamed her for the situation, but lacked the forthright nature to speak their thoughts. It was a worry that kept her awake at night long after she had prayed for Elijah’s heart. She knew that Elijah couldn’t and wouldn’t blame her for Mary’s self-serving nature or Henry’s illicit behavior. But she worried that he might fault her for not warning the family more clearly of the dangers that the brother and sister presented. Perhaps he believed that, like Martha, Fanny should have done more to prevent what had turned out to be a terrible tragedy for everyone in the family.

  “If only you had—” Elijah began.

  “Oh, Elijah!” she said, abruptly interrupting him. She simply couldn’t bear to hear the words of blame come from his lips too. “Please don’t. I cannot conceal my emotions over the situation for one more minute.”

  He stopped walking and turned to face her. “Do you feel the same way, then?”

  Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. She could not look at him so she stared at the ground. “I have wondered at my role for the past week, Elijah.”

  “Fanny—”

  “Please,” she begged. “I have suffered enough.”

  He smiled at her, a reaction that she did not expect. “Ja, Fanny, I know that you have. And I have to tell you that I love you for it.”

  Love. The one word she had longed to hear from his lips but never thought would be spoken. He loved her for ruining his relationship with Mary? She couldn’t make sense of that and forced herself to look at him, questioning him with her eyes.

  “If only you had been here and not been sent away,” he began again, “I could have dealt with all of this so much better.”

  His words startled her and she glanced at him. “I’m sure you handled it just fine, Elijah. You have always had more prudence than the others when it comes to situations that require strength and sense.”

  “Prudence,” he repeated softly. “Unfortunately there is one area where I failed tremendously in what you claim such high esteem.”

  “Oh?”

  He nodded. “I never would have realized that my judgment was overtaken by my imagination.”

  For a few long, drawn-out seconds, Fanny didn’t respond. She suspected he was referring to his revelation about Mary Coblentz, but she didn’t want to mention it. Surely his self-regard had been as injured as his heart.

  But Elijah did not hesitate to continue discussing the matter. He frowned and looked toward the horizon as he spoke. “I had thought so highly of Mary Coblentz. And while she hadn’t thought so highly of me when she thought I was to be a mere farmhand, she grew more interested when she realized I, and not Thomas, would inherit the farm. Why, she was no better than Miriam loving not Jeb Riehl but his 150-acre farm!”

  “One-hundred-sixty acres,” Fanny corrected him in a soft whisper.

  He laughed, the tension fading from his eyes. “Ja, 160 acres. And look where that has landed Miriam! Shunned by the church, her family, and her husb
and!” He raised his hand and shielded his eyes from the sun as he glanced toward the horizon. “Nee, the person I imagined Mary Coblentz to be . . . a loving wife, nurturing mother, and best friend . . . is not who she truly is. You, Fanny Price, have saved me from a lifetime of unhappiness, for surely I would have discovered the truth quickly.”

  “I’d say that I’m relieved to hear I was helpful, but there is still so much pain in the family and community. My guilt outweighs my gratitude for your words.”

  Elijah frowned. “Guilt?” He took a step closer to her. “Whatever do you have to feel guilty about?”

  “I . . . well, if I had spoken up—”

  “Oh, stuff and nonsense!” He waved a hand in the air as if dismissing her words. “You tried to warn us, but none of us would listen! You have more sense than the entire family, Fanny. You saw the self-serving falsity of Henry Coblentz long before the rest of us did! Why, a man like Henry has no one to blame but himself. And as for my schwester, she too is equally culpable for her downfall! Nee, Fanny, you have no guilt on your head.”

  A car drove down the narrow road and Elijah took her elbow in his hand, gently guiding her to the side until the car passed.

  “You know, Fanny,” he continued, “I missed you while you were in Colorado. Two weeks you were gone, and those were the longest two weeks of my life.”

  She tried to smile. If she could only tell him about her long nights, weeping into her pillow as she shivered under the thin blanket and wished she were back in Mount Hope. “I missed you too, Elijah.” She smiled at him. “Guess what Susan and I did before we left?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

  “We got up early and hiked toward that big mountain, the one that I always told you about, remember?” He nodded. “And when we got there, we climbed up it a spell. There are trails, you see. We got to a large rock and we stood there, watching as the sun rose on the other side of the valley. It was funny, though, Elijah. All of those years when I lived there, that mountain overshadowed our house and farm. But when you stand on the rocks and look into the valley . . . well, you can’t see our house at all!”

  He frowned.

  “We are insignificant in its glory, I suppose,” she said softly.

  “I realized something while you were gone,” Elijah said.

  “Oh, ja?”

  He nodded. “Your absence was more than physical. I missed talking to you. You are my best friend.”

  At this, she leaned over and nudged his arm with her shoulder. “You are my best friend too, Elijah.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “All of the talk about your possible marriage to Henry got me thinking. Of you as a wife and mother, I mean.”

  Her heart beat faster, and she looked away.

  “I had never thought of you that way before,” he continued, “and I couldn’t help but wonder how you would be as a mother.” When she blushed, he laughed. “So modest.”

  “You are embarrassing me,” she said lightly.

  “The thought of you having a boppli, why, Fanny, it made me realize how nurturing you would be.”

  She felt the color on her cheeks deepen.

  “And then,” Elijah said, lifting one finger into the air as if he had an idea, “it dawned on me that there is something else you would be.” He paused, waiting for her to look up at him. “A loving wife.”

  For a moment she doubted her ears and worried that she read too much into his words.

  “Ja, Fanny. You are a best friend and would most certainly be a loving wife and nurturing mother. The only problem is that . . . ” He deliberately hesitated, his eyes softening as he gazed down at her. “ . . . I don’t want you to be those things with anyone else.”

  She felt a wave of panic. Had she misunderstood him? Surely this was a dream!

  “When I learned of Henry’s interest in you, I started to realize the truth,” he confessed. “And then Daed sent you away. Without you here, Fanny, I felt lost. There was a hole in my world without you. The more distant I became, the more aggressive Mary grew. And then the situation with Henry and Miriam—why, she called it all folly. And as the word repeatedly left her lips—folly! folly! folly!—I knew. All of those characteristics that I imagined Mary possessed were only because I denied myself the truth.”

  “The truth?” Fanny didn’t quite understand what he meant.

  He took a deep breath as he placed his hands on her shoulders. The warmth of his touch caught her off guard. Here she had been expecting their conversation to follow a very different direction, one that would lead to tremendous heartbreak. Instead, the way that he looked at her, such an affectionate glow on his face, she realized that her fears were not to be realized. God’s plans did not include Elijah—her Elijah!—mourning Mary Coblentz or blaming Fanny for not warning him of her character.

  “The truth, Fanny, is that Mary had none of the characteristics I envisioned. I was blind to her faults because I projected on her the traits I had enjoyed and taken for granted these last eight years!” He paused. “Fanny, I merely wanted to recreate you!”

  She raised her hand and covered her mouth, shocked at his words.

  “When I said I love you earlier, I really meant it. I meant it not as a brother loves a sister but as a man loves a woman.” He smiled and gave a small laugh. “Oh, how much I love you! Why, the thought of Henry pursuing you and you possibly marrying him nearly drove me mad!” The way he emphasized that word startled her. “And then listening to my father talk with Naomi about what a good match that would be for you—Fanny, I could scarcely think straight. I was almost relieved when you were sent to Colorado, for I knew that there you would be safe from that man!”

  “I—I had no idea.”

  “Ja, Fanny, it’s true.” This time, he laughed, his delight so apparent in the sound. “Oh, how true it is!” He looked at her again, still smiling, and said, “You’ve been my best friend since you’ve arrived. Honorable, righteous, and loyal . . . sometimes to a fault. When I thought I might lose you, I realized that I didn’t want to! So I am asking you, Fanny Price, if you would consider staying my best friend for the rest of your life in the role of loving wife and nurturing mother?”

  “Oh, Elijah,” she whispered. “Is this possible?”

  “Do you doubt me?”

  “Nee, of course not.” She shook her head. “You are always true to your word.”

  “Then tell me,” he said, bending his knees just enough so that he could look into her eyes, “do you love me enough to marry me?”

  A tear fell from her eyes and she wiped at it with her fingers as she gave a soft laugh. “Oh, Elijah, I could never love anyone as much as I love you.”

  He put his arms around her waist and lifted her into his arms, spinning her as she laughed at his display of enthusiasm. “You have made me the happiest man!” he said, setting her back on her feet. “And I will spend all of my life ensuring that you are the happiest woman!”

  He leaned forward to brush his lips gently against hers.

  “I already am, Elijah,” she whispered just before he kissed her. “I already am.”

  Epilogue

  THE WARM SMELL of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen as Fanny shut the oven door. Carefully she set the two pans of bread onto the cooling rack and removed her oven mitts. She leaned over and inhaled, the yeasty scent filling her with happiness.

  Ever since her wedding to Elijah, that was how she felt: happy. They had married in December, urging Timothy and Martha to allow a smaller celebration, rather than the traditional large service with hundreds of guests visiting throughout the day and evening. No one wanted to be reminded of the other wedding that had taken place just six weeks earlier.

  To her surprise, Timothy had seemed unusually complacent when he learned that Elijah and Fanny were to marry. She had worried that he would be offended anew, this time at the idea of his son marrying someone that he’d grown up with, but she was relieved and gratified that he respected and even seemed to ap
prove his son’s decision. Even better, he welcomed Susan into his home, showing her the attention and concern he had withheld not only from Fanny, but also from his own daughters.

  Truly the man’s spiritual awakening amazed everyone in the family, especially Fanny.

  Timothy’s wedding gift to them was the farm, for he had finally come to accept what he had long ago realized: Elijah was the more deserving of his two sons. Even if Thomas changed his ways and became a more responsible member of the household, Elijah had proven himself to be consistently righteous and principled and, therefore, the more deserving of the two sons.

  In fact, after Thomas recovered from his illness, he appeared a changed man. While he still refused to take the kneeling vow, he showed his appreciation for his family’s care by awaking early enough to help with morning chores. He also no longer demonstrated any of the rebellious ways from his prior self.

  After the wedding Fanny had fully expected to move into Elijah’s bedroom in the large farmhouse. But when Naomi, shamed by Timothy’s accusation, went to live with her sister-in-law in Indiana, Elijah suggested that they move into the grossdawdihaus instead. It had seemed a logical solution, allowing them to start their lives together in the comfort of the smaller attached house.

  As for Miriam, Timothy had refused to let her return to his household, which left her in a quandary and living in virtual exile at the Riehls’ household while she endured her shunning. The bishop had urged Miriam to repent and exhorted Jeb to forgive, and the two, realizing they had no other choice if they were to remain in the community, agreed to his counsel. Whether they could yet build a happy marriage after such an unhappy start remained to be seen.

  Julia seemed to breathe easier now that Miriam was gone from the house and Henry was no longer in Mount Hope. Without her sister, Julia became friendlier to both Fanny and her sister Susan; and with the newfound attention of her father, Julia seemed to grow in self-confidence and maturity. Not only that, she appeared to be more genuinely happy, with a glow to her eyes and a quickness to her step that left Fanny wondering if she was, at last, courting someone.

 

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