Silvia's Rose

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “I don’t think I have wasted my time,” Joseph said. “Come see what I brought along. It’s in the front yard, and it’s just the beginning.”

  Joseph didn’t wait for a response. He shuffled across the barnyard and back into the barn. Peter’s footsteps followed behind him and out through the barn door. “There.” Joseph gestured toward the crates.

  Peter laughed. “What is this? Vegetables from your greenhouse? Are you expecting me to help you finally make a profit?”

  Joseph pressed his lips together for a second. “They are for you and Edna, Peter. A gift.”

  “For a bride!” Peter laughed even louder. “Do you expect to trade a few crates of vegetables for my daughter?”

  “No.” Joseph fixed his gaze on the man’s face. “But I expect to show you that I’d be a son-in-law you would do well not to reject. I’m talking your language now, Peter, since apparently you can’t understand anything else.”

  Peter huffed. “So you can afford to give away a few vegetables to impress me. Well, I’m not impressed. I can raise my own vegetables.”

  Joseph glanced at the weed-choked garden. “Yah, I can see that.”

  Peter shrugged. “Edna’s a little behind this year, but she’ll catch up soon.”

  “Then my offering is just in time.”

  “It won’t change my mind about you.” Peter glared at Joseph. “You’re not a worthy son-in-law just because you can grow vegetables. Everyone can do some things, and this trade of yours was learned from your Englisha frau. Was it not?” Peter’s glare grew fiercer. “I have half a mind to throw these crates and you back out on the road, Joseph. What are you thinking anyway? Bringing your Englisha stuff here?”

  “Can we go inside and talk?”

  “Into the house? Of course not. You plan to charm Arlene even further and make more problems for her.”

  “Maybe I should just take Arlene with me and marry her down at the courthouse,” Joseph muttered.

  “What blasphemy!” Peter exclaimed. “I knew you were up to no goot.”

  Joseph grinned. “Control yourself, Peter. Let’s go back to the barn and talk there. I want to show you something.” Joseph reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “These are my financial statements.”

  “What goot does that do me?” Peter barked, but he followed Joseph into the barn.

  “Just look at these,” Joseph said once they were inside. “My accountant prepared them in layman’s language, but I also have the actual bank statements if you wish to dig deeper.”

  Peter’s lips moved as his gaze settled on the first page. “Income of the year…” Peter’s eyes grew larger and soon bulged. “This is income from your greenhouse?”

  “Yah. Those figures were for last year, and I’m doing even better this year. That’s all on the next page, and who knows where this will go if Silvia’s Rose wins an award? That flower is fixing to make me an awful lot of money, Peter. Your daughter could be part of that. And even more, you could be part of that. As a gesture of goot faith, my accountant has written out a check in your name, which is attached to the back there. You are welcome to cash the check whether you agree to my proposition or not, but I think you should seriously consider me as the best prospect that Arlene will ever have in a husband. At least the best one you will see offered to her. I am not a poor man. Perhaps you hadn’t realized that. As your son-in-law, I will see that Arlene is well taken care of, and that in your old age you and Edna will not suffer from lack of funds.”

  “You would buy Arlene’s favor?” The papers trembled in Peter’s hand.

  “No. I already have that,” Joseph told him. “I’m sure you know this. What I want is your blessing and approval on our marriage. I’m sure this mistake in not asking about my income was simply an oversight on your part when you came to investigate my marriage proposal. I take full responsibility for this oversight and seek only to correct what I have overlooked in providing you with proof of my ability to support Arlene.”

  Peter stared at the pages. “These are truly huge sums of money. Are you sure they are yours?”

  “The bank statements are right there,” Joseph assured him.

  Peter turned the pages, but nothing registered from the look on his face.

  “You are welcome to have this checked out in any way you wish,” Joseph said.

  “I…I certainly will.”

  “And do cash the check,” Joseph said. “The money is yours with no strings. There is more where that came from. In the meantime, I would like to see your daughter and eat supper with you. I’m hoping Edna won’t mind…and I’m quite sure Arlene won’t. If I can’t stay to eat, I would at least like to talk to Arlene. We have much to catch up on. And the wedding will be in a month, Peter. I’m not waiting around any longer. This issue must be resolved speedily.”

  Peter appeared speechless, but eventually he repeated, “This is an awful lot of money.”

  “Yah, it is. So will you go tell Arlene you’ve changed your mind and that we can wed? I’ll begin moving the crates inside the barn if that’s where you want them.”

  Peter nodded, but he seemed dumbfounded as he headed across the yard toward the house.

  “I hope he can talk when he gets inside,” Joseph muttered.

  Goose bumps broke out on Joseph’s arms as Peter neared the house. He had won, but now that the contest was over, his nerve failed him. This was so unlike him—this boldness, this brashness, this flaunting of money. But he had to win Arlene back. He simply had to, and he suspected this was the only way.

  Joseph picked up a crate and shuffled toward the barn. He picked a spot off to the side and lowered the crate to the ground. He made another trip, and on the third round he stopped when a cry came from the front porch. Joseph lowered the crate to the ground near the barn door as Arlene raced across the yard. He opened his arms, and she flew into them.

  “Oh, Joseph,” she said, sobbing. “I thought I had lost you. I thought I would die. But you came. You came for me and persuaded Daett…”

  Joseph held her tight. “It’s okay now. We’ll be wed next month. Everything will be okay now.”

  “Next month?” Her mouth dropped open. “Next month?”

  “Yah.” He smiled. “We have lots of planning to do.”

  She said nothing, but her eyes filled with tears as she launched herself at him again.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Esther stepped out on the porch early on Saturday morning with a warm cup of cocoa in her hand. The swing squeaked under her as she seated herself. She should have draped a shawl over her shoulders, but the breeze stirring across the porch floor still had a touch of summer in its caress. That would soon change here in Lancaster County, and even sooner in the valley at the foothills of the Adirondacks. Wedding season was not even two months away, and she was still here at her parents’ home.

  Esther swung gently, her feet pushing against the porch floor. What was to happen to her and Isaiah? The wedding date was set, but no further plans had been made. Perhaps she should be angry with him for how he had acted these past weeks. Perhaps she shouldn’t even love him…but about that, Daett was right. One did not easily fall out of love.

  The front door opened, and Mamm peeked out. “Oh, here you are.”

  “Yah.” Esther smiled. “Catching the wonderful summer breeze.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not. Shall I make a cup of hot chocolate for you?”

  Mamm smiled. “No, I’ll make it myself and be right back. Don’t go anywhere!”

  The swing squeaked softly under Esther as she waited for Mamm to return. This is where she had come during her teenage years to enjoy the summer evenings. Her sisters had often joined her, but none of them had been given to deep introspections—just light chatter about their day and plans for the morning. They had always been a practical family, and she still was practical. Surely her practical brain would soon find an answer to her problem.

  Mam
m returned with a cup clasped in her hands and seated herself beside Esther. “I suppose you’re thinking about Isaiah,” Mamm mused.

  “Yah, and wondering what I’m supposed to do.”

  “There’s only one thing to do, dear. You’ve had some time away now, and you should go back to the valley and tell Isaiah you’re ready to be the kind of frau I know you’re capable of being. Forget about this romance business. I didn’t raise my daughters to go flying around the countryside in pursuit of flowers. Why, I imagine before long even Arlene’s parents will forget about Isaiah’s bouquets and so will everyone else. Joseph might even get to wed Arlene once the dust has settled.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Esther. What’s done is done. Go back to the valley next week, speak with Isaiah, and shut your house down for the winter. Then come back here where we can help plan the wedding. There’s only a little over a month left—unless you want to have the wedding at the end of November instead of October.”

  “No, as soon as possible,” Esther told her. “And that is the sensible thing to do. I’m sure Isaiah will agree, and yet…I don’t know, Mamm. Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure, yah. But you need to be sure too. The first step is for you to go back and see Isaiah. Straighten things out.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Esther allowed.

  Mamm glanced toward the driveway, and then she stood to get a closer look. “Someone’s coming in an Englisha automobile.”

  Esther stood as well and looked to the car now pulling to a stop. “It’s Isaiah!”

  Mamm gasped. “Esther, you must act decent. You must do the right thing.”

  Esther reached for her mother’s hand.

  “Welcome him into the house,” Mamm said. “I’ll be going inside now.”

  “Send Diana out when she wakes up,” Esther called after Mamm, who gave her a sharp look before retreateing inside. Esther’s heart beat faster as Isaiah’s familiar form came out of the car and bent near the car door to pay the driver.

  The car left, and Isaiah studied her on the front porch for a moment before he left his suitcase on the lawn and came toward her.

  He paused at the bottom of the porch steps. “Goot morning, Esther. I see you’re up and enjoying the summer air.”

  “Yah,” she replied awkwardly.

  “Shall we sit?”

  “Yah.”

  The swing squeaked again as she sat beside him. She gave him a smile. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to come,” he replied. “But things happen, I suppose. I’m here to…” His voice trailed off.

  She waited in silence.

  “You don’t seem upset to see me,” he said.

  “Should I be?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose you have goot reason to be upset with the way I’ve been behaving myself.”

  She glanced away. “You know it was my fault, Isaiah. I’m sorry for what happened. I can’t imagine how you must have felt, and yet you went on preaching each Sunday. I don’t know what to say. I guess I came home to try to—”

  “You don’t need to explain yourself, Esther,” he said earnestly, interrupting her. “I don’t blame you. I…” He reached for her hand. “May I?”

  “Isaiah, my hand is yours whenever you wish to hold it.”

  “Please forgive me. I acted childishly when my feelings were hurt, and it was rude of me to stop coming to your house for supper without any explanation. I can’t imagine why you’re even talking to me.”

  “You know why. It’s the same reason you’re here. We belong together. I’ve come to see that in the time I’ve been here.”

  He took a deep breath. “You know I love you, Esther, even more than I did before. But I still want to say it. You are a jewel, a woman among the—”

  “Isaiah, please,” Esther begged. “Someone will hear us.”

  “I don’t care what people think!” he declared. “For you, I’d even carry bouquets into the house right in front of Peter and Edna.”

  Esther tried to suppress a giggle. “That won’t be necessary.”

  His hand moved in hers. “Necessary or not, I should have brought roses.”

  “You should not have!”

  “I should have.”

  Esther’s giggle escaped her. “Are we going around this all morning? I should be offering you hot chocolate. Mamm will think I have lost all of my manners.”

  “You are a jewel,” he said again. “The hot chocolate can wait. I love you, Esther.”

  “If you don’t stop, I’ll be kissing you right out here on my parents’ front porch,” Esther warned.

  He grinned. “We can’t have that, can we?”

  “But I will once we’re—” She stopped as her face flamed.

  “To the future then. And to the unknown.” He faked a shiver.

  Esther squeezed his hand. “Is it that bad?”

  “Oh, every bit. I’m scared to death.”

  “You are not, Isaiah. I know better. I’m nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Maybe not, but I have a feeling life with you will be very interesting.”

  “So the wedding is still on?”

  “Of course. Would I have come all the way to Lancaster County if the wedding was off?”

  “I want to be married in the valley.”

  “Not here, as is tradition?”

  “No. This won’t be our home.”

  “I have no objections if your parents don’t.”

  “They will do what I say,” she assured him.

  “Let’s begin the plans, then.”

  He was holding her hand when the front door burst open and Diana raced out. Isaiah let go of his intended to open his arms, and Diana flew into them. Esther pressed back her tears as her daughter clung to Isaiah as if she would never let go. Before long those arms would be around her, and she would never let go either.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  On Sunday morning, Esther was sitting on a bench in Minister Emil’s home where the service was held that day in Lancaster County. Diana sat beside her, her eyes fixed on Isaiah’s face as he preached. Never had Esther seen him preach better or with more confidence.

  “Abraham told his servant to leave the country where his tribe lived and to return to familiar lands from where they had come to find a frau for his young son, Isaac,” Isaiah proclaimed. “The servant obeyed, and the journey began. A virtuous woman is a delight in the eyes of the Lord, and worthy is any effort we make to search her out. Things do not just happen by themselves. Goodness does not grow on trees. It takes prayer, desiring the Lord’s will, and courage on our part to stand for what is right. If we wish the next generation to maintain the truth, we must ourselves seek it out.”

  Esther drew a deep breath. Isaiah had the main sermon as the visiting minister, and if Bishop Beiler from the local district knew about the story of the flower bouquets or Isaiah’s nickname as the “flower minister,” none of that showed on the bishop’s face. The man sat on the minister’s bench, nodding his approval of the sermon, with his full white beard flowing halfway down his chest.

  She had always adored Bishop Beiler. Today she could have given the old bishop a kiss on the cheek. Being asked to give the sermon was exactly what Isaiah had needed—approval and acceptance from church leadership away from the chuckles and snickers at home. In time Isaiah would grow stronger. His trip to Lancaster County had achieved its goal…and the time they had spent together yesterday planning their wedding had been most productive.

  There was nothing wrong with romance and flower bouquets. Isaiah might flinch when the subject was raised once they returned to the valley, but he would recover. He might even bring her flowers sometime in the future, maybe even for their wedding anniversary once in a while. Roses would be a reminder of how things had begun for them and always would be. They were in love, the type of love usually experienced by youngsters. It was wunderbah.

  Now, all was well. Mamm had agreed without much fuss to a w
edding in the valley. Isaiah had winked at her when the discussion went off without a hitch.

  Esther pulled Diana closer. Isaiah had never really considered cutting off their engagement. Nor had she. Likely this was because of their mutual practicality and maturity, which proved that all things played their part somewhere, as the Lord no doubt intended.

  Esther focused on Isaiah as he reached the height of his story. “Now Abraham’s servant prayed again to the Lord and decided on a test. The woman who would offer to draw water not only for the servant but also for the servant’s camels would be the woman the Lord had chosen for Isaac’s frau.” Isaiah paused to smile. “From this part of the story we often draw the lesson that love is only hard work and dedication to the task, but love is much more than duty and devotion to one another. Love is a wunderbah thing that the Lord has given a man and a woman who are promised to each other in the holy vows of marriage. We chuckle sometimes at our youth when they speak of falling in love, but they have a point.” Isaiah paused to sweep the room with his gaze as if he expected a challenge.

  Bishop Beiler smiled broadly, and Isaiah continued. “It would do us all well to keep a little romance alive between our spouses and ourselves. As you all know, I lost my frau Mandy some years ago, but the Lord has chosen to grace my life again with another hope… which explains why I’m here visiting Lancaster County instead of staying at home today in our settlement in the valley.”

  Chuckles rippled through the audience, and Isaiah hurried on. “May the Lord bless all of us who seek a righteous spouse, and for those of you who are married, my counsel is that love—like a rose—does not flourish by itself. You must nurture your love by praying and sharing your time and heart with each other. Love is a wunderbah thing when it is lived in the will of the Lord.”

  Esther felt her face flush when several of the women glanced her way, but she didn’t mind. Isaiah had suffered much worse in the valley, and he would suffer again when they returned. But it was worth the embarrassment, and perhaps his words today would encourage one of the Lancaster men to hold his relationship with his frau in higher esteem. Who would have thought that Isaiah would say this and bless others with his words? Indeed, he was a minister worthy of her love and respect.