The Love Letters

by Beverly Lewis

  Without Roman around . . .

  Later, when they all sat down together, the girls promptly bowed their heads without touching their utensils. Roman observed and nodded his approval before the silent blessing.

  After they said amen, Small Jay kept his attention on his plate, not asking his father the usual—if he might help him outdoors. This was remarkable, and Ellie felt sure Roman had taken notice, too.

  Dorcas jabbered about the needlepoint class Ellie was having tomorrow. “Is it all right if I go, Mamma?”

  “Me too!” Julia spoke up, eyes pleading.

  Ellie smiled, buoyed by the girls’ interest. “Dorcas, you may attend, but Julia, I want you to stay here with your little sister.”

  At this, Julia’s face drooped, but only briefly, and she turned to Sally and leaned her head against her sister’s. “We’ll help Mamma by weeding the garden,” she said, which warmed Ellie’s heart.

  “Denki, honey.” Ellie meant it for Julia, but Sally grinned across the table at her, as well. “Right now I have a quick trip to make.”

  Dorcas brightened. “Can I come with you, Mamma?”

  Always eager to assist, she thought of her oldest daughter. Ellie agreed, not wanting to make much of where she was going or what she was doing. It felt good to have a calmer atmosphere in the house this morning. Heaven knew it was time for a more peaceful day.

  “The vet’s comin’ any minute now to check on two of the field mules,” Roman mentioned as he reached for his coffee mug.

  Small Jay’s head popped up, blue eyes shining with hope.

  Ellie realized she was grinding her teeth. Will he ask to follow the vet around?

  But Julia preempted her brother. “Can Sally and I watch?”

  “Jah, des gut,” Roman replied, then finished off his coffee.

  Ellie’s heart sank for Small Jay. But like him, she said nothing.

  Ellie hadn’t had the heart to confront their son after breakfast about the strange note she’d found last night. And once Roman left for the stable to meet with the vet, Ellie and Dorcas loaded up the baby items for Marlena Wenger, then took the family carriage, already hitched to their strongest horse, and left for the Martin house.

  When Ellie returned from making the delivery, she could not find Small Jay and assumed he’d taken off walking. She kept the note in her apron and set about preparing for her class tomorrow, uncertain how many young quilters she’d have. Only Amish girls was Roman’s wish. Well, his demand.

  Still, she couldn’t think of turning away the young Mennonites farther down the road—and her own New Order niece, Sarah—if they came, and had respectfully told Roman so. Word about her classes had spread nearly like a wildfire, and it pleased her to have the opportunity to pass along her skills and love of needlepoint and quilting to others. If only Marlena might show up, but the thoughtful young woman had declined coming once again when Ellie was over there just a while ago. Of course, considering the wee one in Marlena’s care, it made perfect sense. Besides, Ellie was privately relieved not to have another reason for an altercation with Roman.

  Better this way, she thought.

  Marlena lowered Angela Rose into the playpen and then propped her up with pillows. She took time to shake a soft pink rattle within reaching distance and smiled when the little hand grabbed for it. Marlena had quickly decided the kitchen was the ideal spot for the cozy play area, just as Ellie had recommended when she dropped by earlier.

  Feeling better today about almost everything, Marlena was pleased to have bathed and dressed her niece without a speck of trouble. No crying fits yet today, either. Even Mammi was complimentary of her handling the baby. “I believe you’re a natural, dear,” her grandmother had declared with the sweetest smile.

  The telephone jangled loudly, and Marlena hurried to pick up the phone. “Hullo,” she answered. “Martin residence.”

  “It’s Mamma, honey.” Her mother’s voice sounded tinny and unnatural over the distance. “Oh . . . my dear girl.”

  “We’ve been wondering ’bout Luella. How is she today?”

  “I’ve just had word from Aunt Becky, who called from the hospital.” Mamma’s breath was coming fast, then became a long, tearful sigh. “Ach, Marlena. I’m so sorry to tell you this, my dear. Your sister didn’t make it. Luella passed away not an hour ago.”

  Marlena could not speak, her heart cold with dread. She looked over at Angela Rose and felt even more devastated. The worst possible news! Stunned, she moved to sit on the wooden bench near the table and leaned her face into her hand, still holding the receiver.

  “Marlena . . . honey?”

  “So sorry, Mamma. I feel numb.” She moaned. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I know . . . it’s just shocking, and so very sudden. We haven’t heard back from anyone about Gordon, either—it could take weeks to get word to him, and even longer by mail. Luella’s poor husband doesn’t even know she was in an accident . . . let alone this.” Mamma sighed heavily. “Your father’s gone to lie down. He’s honestly beside himself.”

  The silence between them, broken only by her mother’s stifled sobs, made Marlena uneasy, adding to the gravity of the horrendous moment.

  “What will happen to Luella’s baby?” Marlena asked, trembling. Her words seemed somehow unrelated to the overwhelming reality they now faced.

  “I’ll call Gordon’s aunt Patricia the minute I’m off the phone with you. She may know of a way to contact his parents. They’re already on the other side of the world, most likely.”

  “Well, won’t they want to take care of Angela Rose, once they’re home?”

  “We must lean on the Lord’s wisdom in this. For now, are you able to keep Angela a while longer? I’d guess it’ll take some time for them to get a way home.”

  What could she say? “Jah, of course I’ll help out till Gordon’s parents are back.”

  “Surely a baby will bring some comfort to you and my mother during this dreadful time.”

  “Angela Rose is a very sweet baby, Mamma.”

  “One without a mother.” Mamma’s words were jolting, and Marlena’s eyes pricked with tears. “Once Anderson and Sheryl Munroe learn of Luella’s death, I would think they’d try to alter their plans and fly home for the funeral.”

  “Jah, you’d think they’d come for Angela’s sake,” Marlena said.

  Mamma went on to say that the funeral would most likely be this coming Monday, wanting to allow some time out of respect for Luella’s husband and in-laws’ not knowing. “Your father plans to contact one of our Beachy ministers. Since Luella grew up Amish, we’re hopin’ the preacher will agree to have the funeral at the Beachy meetinghouse. We’ll let you know where and when as soon as we know.”

  Marlena felt weak. “Mammi and I will hire a driver, but we probably won’t spend the night.” Her mother knew that Mammi preferred her own bed, and the baby’s things were all here, too. “Now that I’ve mentioned it, I’m not sure Mammi will even feel up to the trip,” Marlena admitted, though for her parents’ sake, she hoped so.

  Marlena was quiet for a moment; then she asked, “What do ya think Luella would have wanted for her service, considering everything?”

  “It’s not something she ever talked ’bout, bein’ so young and all. And since Gordon’s not around to discuss it, what else can we do but make the best plans for our family?”

  Marlena pondered that, feeling at a loss to make any suggestions. She knew her parents would never think of having the funeral at the undertaker’s, nor would they ask for cosmetics to cover any visible bruises from the accident. Luella may have been English, but such traditions weren’t a part of the lives of the People.

  “Your father will most likely drive over to their house tomorrow . . . wants to see if there might be a will or last wishes filed away somewhere.” Mamma moaned again.

  “A person Luella’s age doesn’t think much about dying.” Marlena couldn’t imagine the quandary her parents were in—so much unknow
n, and Luella’s husband out of reach.

  Shaken to the core, Marlena forgot to ask about her younger siblings before she said good-bye. By then it was too late. Her brothers, Amos and Yonnie, and sisters, Katie and Rachel Ann, would surely be just as shocked at this terrible turn of events.

  Going to the playpen, Marlena reached down to cup Angela’s little head in her hand and looked into her face. The babe smiled up at her. “Oh, you dear, dear baby,” she said softly, tears rolling down. “I’m awful sorry for you, Angela Rose.”

  Such a beautiful name. In her grief, Marlena ached to return to her own childhood, when she and Luella were still little . . . to try to do things another way, wishing for a different outcome.

  Resting his bad leg on a low stone wall that ran along the road toward Brownstown Mill, Small Jay held his cat up to his face, whispering. He enjoyed the familiar vibration of purring in his ear as lively Sassy pushed her little nose into his chest.

  “Down ya go,” Small Jay said, setting his pet back on the ground and fastening the leash once again. Dat’s right . . . it’s a long jaunt over here.

  A short way from where he sat, Small Jay saw Allegro poised at the base of a tall tree, wagging his long tail, evidently waiting for a squirrel, his nose in the air.

  “It’s Allegro!” His energy surged at the thought of his cat and Allegro playing together again, like yesterday, when the bow-tie man—Boston, he’d said his name was—had set out to write “memory notes” after they’d eaten their hot dogs on the tree stump. Small Jay didn’t know what became of the note Boston had pushed into Small Jay’s shirt pocket. “I’m always forgetting my name,” he’d told Small Jay. “So I wouldn’t be surprised if you did, too.”

  In the distance, on the hill beyond the stone bridge and amidst a mass of trees, Small Jay saw a portion of the white church with the tall steeple and spire at the top. He’d once heard that a handful of people walking toward the bridge one fine autumn morning had seen angels in white hovering near the spire. Small Jay didn’t know what to make of such a peculiar tale, but he assumed people around Brownstown ought to know whether such things were true or not. It surely wasn’t the sort of thing he’d ever ask his parents about. If people saw an angel near a church, well, what better place? Just maybe it was something the Good Lord had permitted to make those who saw it feel better. Maybe they were sad or lonely, or needed help to believe, he thought, slowly walking down the incline near the mill.

  “Wonder if Boston’ll be out cookin’ over his fire today,” he murmured. Sassy padded forward quickly, as if she sensed they were entering Allegro’s territory.

  “Hello over there!” Boston called to him, looking even more bedraggled than yesterday as he waved both arms to flag Small Jay down.

  Picking up his pace as best as he could, Small Jay was aware that he ought to be on the lookout for horses and buggies. But the sight of the man with his bow tie askew drew him onward.

  As he came closer, Small Jay blinked at the sight of a single blanket lying on the ground near the fire pit he’d made last evening. “Are ya sleepin’ outside now, Boston?”

  The man grimaced. “You must be mistaken, young man. I believe Boston is a city somewhere.”

  Small Jay shook his head, befuddled. “Remember me? I’m Small Jay Bitner. . . . I visited you and your dog yesterday.” He started to mention the meal they’d shared but stopped cold. “I brought ya some cookies. Thought you might need more to eat, maybe.”

  “Small Jay . . .” The man’s lips moved as he pulled a notepad out of his right trousers pocket and flipped through the pages. “Small Jay,” he repeated, stopping at a page toward the back of the notepad. “Ah yes . . . I see that name right here. I’ve been wondering why it was there.” He held out the notepad and tapped the page with two fingers. Then, straightening to his full height, the man, who was more mixed-up than Small Jay had thought possible, said, “I am pleased to meet you, young man.”

  Meet me? He forgot who I am?

  Flabbergasted, Small Jay motioned again toward the blanket laid out on the ground near the creek bank. “Ya still haven’t answered my question, mister. Have ya moved outdoors to sleep?”

  “Begging your pardon?”

  Small Jay tried to explain what he had been told previously—that the man was storing his few belongings in the mill, and bedding down inside for the night. He decided not to mention again that the man’s name was Boston, just in case the man had been wrong about that earlier. Anyway, Small Jay didn’t want to say anything to upset him again.

  The man began to hum, and as before, one hand rose into the air, dipping and waving. There was just no talking sensibly to him. And, just as disappointing, the border collie had disappeared. Is he still hunting squirrels?

  Small Jay felt too jittery to even inquire about the dog, but he wanted to tell the man something that had been on his mind since yesterday. “I’m a lot like you,” he confided. “I forget things, too. My brain gets all cluttered up sometimes. My schoolteacher said I’m a child who will never grow up.”

  The man’s face broke into a gentle, even thoughtful smile. “Is that right?” His eyes glistened in the corners. Then, clearing his throat a little, he said, “What a fine cat you have there.”

  “Just a barn cat. But she’s my pet, Sassafras.”

  “Ah, and sassafras is also a mighty fine-tasting tea. Did you know that if you crush sassafras leaves, they smell like root beer?”

  He nodded. “Mamma grows it in her herb garden.”

  The man reached into his pants pocket and drew out his mouth organ. He began to play a sad-sounding tune, one Small Jay did not recognize. While he listened, he noticed the gold ring on the fourth finger of the man’s left hand.

  When the melody was through, Boston asked, “Would you care to have a seat?”

  “Denki, but I best not be stayin’ long.”

  “But you just arrived.” The man studied him, frowning a bit. “Are you of German descent?”

  “I’m Amish.”

  “You sound quite German.” Distracted again, the man put his fingers between his teeth and whistled loudly. He slipped his harmonica back into his pocket, and a minute later, here came Allegro along the trees lining the creek bank. “This is my watchdog.”

  “Allegro’s right friendly,” Small Jay said.

  “Allegro?” The man’s eyes looked cloudy. “That’s a musical term. Do you perchance play an instrument?”

  Small Jay had no idea what the nice man was talking about, but he wanted to remind him that his dog’s name was Allegro. It said so right on the leather collar.

  As before, the dog warmed up immediately to Sassy, and bow-tie man must have forgotten what he was talking about, because he got down on his haunches and clapped his hands. “My dog grew up playing with two cats, if I recall correctly. They were quite the trio.” Soon he was laughing at the dog and cat as Sassy arched her back against the dog’s side. She calmed a bit and the familiar purring followed.

  “They seem mighty friendly, ain’t?” Small Jay observed aloud.

  “Love at first sight, I presume.”

  “But . . .” Small Jay stopped himself. As confused as he was himself sometimes, he knew this man was thoroughly mixed-up today, when yesterday the things he’d said made fairly good sense—or so Small Jay had thought. “Where’s your family?” he asked.

  The man pointed toward the dog. “Right there.”

  “No one else?”

  “None that I recall.”

  Small Jay pondered the sad reply. “What ’bout that ring you’re wearin’?” He’d only seen similar gold bands on Englischers, and Mamma said it meant they were wed.

  “I don’t know.” The man stared at his hand and turned the band. “But I do know one thing.”

  “Jah?” Small Jay felt his heart speed up some. Maybe a clue was coming.

  “The ring is impossible to remove.”

  Small Jay pondered this. Then, concerned about the man’s welfare, he asked,
“What have ya eaten today?”

  “Crackers and cheese, primarily.” The man pulled out one of the oatmeal raisin cookies from yesterday. “I’m saving this for later.”

  That’s all he’s got, Small Jay thought. “Say, how about we go over to Joe’s and pick up some food tomorrow? I’ll bring my pony, Razor, and the cart, so we won’t have to walk so far.”

  The man’s smile was filled with pleasure and expectation. “I’ll look forward to that, young man.”

  “Would ya like to jot it down?” Small Jay asked, not certain the man would recall otherwise.

  “Excellent thought, my boy.” The man reached for his small notepad and removed a pen from his shirt pocket.

  Later, as Small Jay walked toward home with Sassy, a notion was forming in his head. When the time was right, and things seemed to fall into place—if they did—he would bring it up to the lonely man with the bright gold ring on his finger. The man who couldn’t even remember his own name!

  Chapter 10

  Marlena purposely awakened early the next morning to write to Nat while Angela Rose was still sleeping.She and Mammi had talked yesterday, sharing their shock and sadness at Luella’s sudden death, but Marlena needed to jot down her thoughts to mourn properly. And too, it was important for him to receive her letter tomorrow, so he would know about Monday’s funeral.

  Dear Nat,

  Remember how we talked quietly last summer, sitting under that big maple tree near the old schoolhouse? Well, if I were there, I’d tell you what my heart is saying this morning.

  It seems like decades since I talked to Luella, and now she’s gone. And gone where? I wish I knew. Mammi says we must leave that in God’s hands. Yet, while I work, cooking and cleaning and caring for Luella’s baby, I noodle on the fact that she left the church of her youth and abandoned the Plain life. What does all of that mean to our heavenly Father? Is my sister’s soul lost for eternity?