Ella let the air out of her chest with a long sigh. The sandwiches in front of her eyes drifted in and out of focus. She pressed back her tears as she realized that such moments with her family would now be rare not just because she’d moved away, but because of the moves the others would make. Life moves on. Things could not be stopped, even if one wanted them to.
“How are things comin’ along?” Mamm asked to no one in particular.
“Three wagons full already,” Daett declared. “Pretty good, I would say. It sure was nice of Ella to help.”
“I’m glad to,” she said, reaching for a second sandwich.
“This is a good year for hay,” Eli said. “The second and third cuttings might be just as good.”
“Yah,” Daett agreed, “if the rains come like we hope.”
“They have come so far,” Monroe said.
“That can always change,” Daett said in a solemn voice. “Everything can change—and so fast.”
Ella wished with all her heart that the evening was here already, that things would never change, and that she could be certain they never would, but, of course, that could never be. Great change could well be ahead for us—changes none of us could imagine or anticipate. When boys go out with Englisha girls, anything can happen. Things can also happen if I say no to a marriage proposal from a certain bishop.
“You’re enjoying your house?” Monroe asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“It’s really nice,” Clara said, and Ella nodded. “I want to move over to Ella’s house,” Clara continued. “I want to live with Ella and stay there all the time.”
“You’re a little young for that,” Mamm said. “You’d best be thinkin’ about stayin’ home. And, besides, we need you here.”
“Ella’s putting ideas into the child’s head,” Monroe said, “because she’s lonely there in that big house, that’s why.”
“That’s why she needs a husband,” Eli offered, “right quick, I’m thinkin’.”
“You can keep your thoughts to yourself,” Ella informed them.
“I’ll be speakin’ them if I want to,” Eli said with a laugh. “I think Dora agrees with me, don’t you, Dora dear.”
“Tell me why I should stick up for you?” Dora retorted.
“Cause I’m such a nice fellow.” Eli smiled an evil smile.
He sure is mighty full of himself. Tonight is just ahead, and with this attitude, things do not look well at all. “I think your hat’s a little big for your head,” Ella told Eli just so he would know how she felt about it.
Dora chuckled, and Eli laughed heartedly. “You are a good one, if I must say so myself.”
Ella felt a rush of emotion swell up in her heart. How I love him and so much the more now that he’s in trouble. Tears stung her eyes, and Eli gave her a strange look. She managed a smile, and it seemed to satisfy him at least enough to make the conversation move on to other topics—safer conversations than what surely lay ahead.
Ten
The sun hung red in the evening sky by the time they pulled the last wagon of bales up to the elevator.
“I haven’t felt so exhausted in a long time,” Ella said, “but it feels gut anyway.”
“It’s gut to get you out of that big house,” Eli said.
“Would you two quit chattering? There are still chores to do,” Dora snapped. “Let’s get the bales of hay up to the mow.”
Eli and Monroe looked at each other, shrugged, and shook the straw off their hats.
“I think I’ll save my breath with her,” Eli muttered as he and Monroe headed into the barn to climb back into the haymow.
“They are gut brothers,” Ella said, making a point to look at Dora. “You don’t have to snap at them.”
“I guess I’m tired, and discussing Eli’s troubles is still ahead,” Dora admitted.
Ella stretched her arms, brushed the strings of straw off her head covering, and got ready to throw down the first bale of hay.
“I’m too tired to worry how I look,” Dora muttered as she pulled the starter rope of the elevator motor.
The engine took off with a sputter. The steel chain engaged and caused its usual racket as Ella threw on a bale of hay. For a moment, she thought she had lost her aim. The bale teetered on the edge and then jerked upward as the teeth on the elevator chain caught it. Dora shook her head and climbed up and over the wooden slats. Together they swung in turns. The long line of bales angled off toward the haymow above them until the last bale left the floor of the wagon visible.
Dora jumped off the wagon, fetched the water jug, and drank deeply before passing it to Ella. Ella let the stream of water run into her mouth and overflow before she swallowed. The taste was heavenly. She took the jug with her into the barn in case the thirst returned before they were done milking.
Ella pulled the three-legged stool off the wall and sat down beside the first cow. Relief spread all the way through her as her back and leg muscles relaxed. Driven by their hunger for the evening meal, they all milked as fast as they could. Eli had half the cows loose by the time Ella finished her second cow. She jumped back against the wall, her full milk bucket held high, as the cows moved out. Eli could be excused for his haste, so she didn’t say anything. They were all in a hurry.
Eli let in the second round of cows as Ella emptied her bucket of milk into the strainer. She picked up her stool again and sat down, careful the one leg didn’t settle into the gutter in her tired state of mind. Dora, looking as tired as she felt, finished her third cow first.
“I’ll finish the last two,” Eli offered as he let the cows out again. “We have a lot of dry ones, so there are only two more.” He slapped a few backsides to speed things up.
Ella followed Dora to the house. Neither of them said much. Dora’s usually dark face was even darker than normal. Ella noticed the look of concern on her mom’s face when they arrived in the kitchen.
“Need any help?” Ella asked.
“You girls can set the table. I’m almost done here.”
Ella opened the silverware drawer and took out an assorted handful while Dora got the plates from the cupboard. Out in the washroom, the door slammed, and water splashed roughly in the bowl.
“They still make a lot of racket, even when they’re washing,” Dora muttered.
“Da Hah be praised,” Daett said loudly as he stepped into the kitchen. “We got all the hay up—with Ella’s gut help. She will be an honor to any man who can claim her as his wife.”
“Daett,” Ella said, but even Dora had to smile a little.
“Well, it is true,” he said.
“The food is ready,” Mamm said, bringing two bowls to the table.
“Then let’s eat,” Daett said as they all took their seats at the table.
“Our gracious and mighty heavenly Father,” he prayed almost before Ella could get her head bowed. As he finished, Mamm began passing the food around.
“We’ve got plenty now, so don’t be afraid,” she said.
“As if I would,” Eli laughed.
“Yah, you all have gut manners,” Mamm said warmly but with a noticeable catch in her voice.
Ella glanced at her dad, but he seemed lost in his food. What will he be saying after supper?
Only minutes later Mamm said, “And now for the cherry pie.” She rose and brought out three pies from where they sat on the counter. “We’ve got plenty. I’ve made sure of it.”
“You’ll spoil us all,” Daett said. “Ach, can I really find room yet? Perhaps a small piece.”
“A big one,” Mamm said, sliding the piece onto his plate.
“Right gut service tonight,” Daett said with satisfaction and a twinkle to Mamm.
Daett ate slowly and then bowed his head in silent prayer when the last plate had been scraped clean. Eli and Monroe got up immediately and left for upstairs. With a long look at Lizzie, who stood at the counter turned away from him, Daett went into the living room. He returned a moment later to retrieve the gas lanter
ns from the utility room. He set them on the bench, pumped air into them, and then lit both, leaving one on the nail in the kitchen ceiling and carrying the other stream of light with him. Ella, with her hands deep in soap suds, turned for a quick glance at his retreating back. When will Mamm bring up the subject of Eli? Apparently she wants all the work done first.
Dora and Mamm cleared the rest of the table while Clara stood at Ella’s right side, drying the dishes. She practically grabbed each item the moment Ella set it on the rack so she could dry each piece quickly.
“They’re supposed to drip-dry a little,” Ella whispered.
“I know, but I’m in a hurry.”
“You’d best be going upstairs,” Mamm whispered from behind them. “I’ll finish wiping the dishes.”
“I already know about…tonight,” Clara said. “I want to hear what Daett says about it.”
Mamm shook her head. “This is for grown-up ears. And don’t go getting your feelings hurt over it. I don’t want Monroe here either.”
Clara’s expression fell, but she offered no comment. They all followed Mamm into the living room, and Ella and Dora found seats on the couch. Clara opened the stair door, gave one last beseeching look to her mom, and then disappeared.
Mamm waited at the doorway until the sound of Clara’s steps on the hardwood stairs had stopped. “Eli,” she called, “will you come down, please.”
“What?” the answer came, muffled by the closed bedroom door.
“Come down here now,” she repeated with a firm tone to her voice.
Ella saw her dad drop the edge of The Budget. He had a solemn look on his face, and she thought he would say something, but then the paper went back up again.
“We need to speak of a serious matter,” Mamm said to Daett as they heard Eli’s steps on the stairs.
“So what’s this?” Eli asked from the bottom step. Wearing a weary grin on his face, he continued, “A family gatherin’? And that after this long day.”
“You’d best keep your jokes to yourself,” Mamm said. “Sit yourself on the couch. We need to speak with you.”
“Oh.” Eli’s mood sobered as he sat down beside Ella.
She avoided his eyes. If he’s honest, he already knows what this is about. Sins are that way. They always get found out, and Eli knows that as well as any of us.
“So,” Daett said, folding The Budget completely and setting it on his lap, “you have somethin’, Mamm? I thought you looked bothered at the supper table.”
“I am more than bothered,” she said.
“But you haven’t told me?”
“I only learned of the matter this morning. This is too serious to discuss before the work had been done. We need time to think and to talk without the day’s burdens on our shoulders.”
“You have always been a wise woman,” Daett said. “Da Hah also waited for the cool of the day to discuss the matter when the first man and woman sinned. I’m supposin’ this is serious, then.”
“Eli is seein’ an Englisha girl,” Mamm said straightaway, allowing the words to tumble out.
Ella felt some relief now that it was out in the open.
“An Englisha girl?” Daett said. His voice rose in surprise, and his paper slid off his lap and sprawled in separate pieces across the hardwood floor. “Eli? Are you sure of this, Mamm? Is this true, Eli?”
“It is true,” Mamm said.
Eli’s face was pale. “Did you girls go tellin’ on me?” he asked, turning to Ella and Dora. Both girls shook their heads.
“That’s another thing,” Mamm said. “The girls are here because they knew about this, but they decided to keep their silence.”
“So, who did this come from?” Eli asked, his voice rising.
“Son, look…” Daett said. “You really shouldn’t be accusin’ someone else. This sin lies at your door.”
“Pam,” Eli said, rising from the couch, “is not a sin. She is the best thing Da Hah has ever given me. Her love warms my heart when I am with her. How can that be a sin?”
“But she is Englisha!” Mamm exclaimed. “And what of the girls, Daett? They both knew of this and tried to teach Eli themselves. They thought they could turn him back from his error.”
“Is this true?”
Ella felt her dad’s eyes on her and struggled for breath. All day she had prepared for this, yet the moment still caught her by the throat. How could I have prepared for Daett’s disapproval, his judgment on my actions, and his disappointment in me? The hiss of the gas lantern filled the room, and somehow she found her voice. “It is true that I knew and told Dora. And I did try to correct Eli, but Dora did not. In this the error is all mine.”
“You always took too much upon yourself,” Daett said, his voice low, “but our son is our business, and he will answer to us.”
“I will answer to God,” Eli retorted. “I am not a member of the church, and in this matter of love, I will follow my heart. Did not Ella and Aden have the best? Should I not also have the best?”
“Aden and Ella?” Daett asked with a voice filled with surprise. “What has this to do with them? Did Aden know also?”
Eli shook his head. “I mean their love. How true it was. It was one of a kind, like a cow that gives twice the milk. I saw it with my own eyes—how they loved each other. And I want that kind of love.”
Ella felt the tears begin to trickle down her face. She restrained her instinct to wipe them away.
“You believe Da Hah cannot give you such love with one of our girls?” Daett asked, leaning forward in his rocker.
“He hasn’t,” Eli said.
“That is not a good answer,” Daett said. “We are all tested in our faith, and you did not seem to pass this one, it looks like.”
“I am not a wild boy. You know that. I have given you no sorrow and no reason to doubt me, as some sons have. Can you not believe me on this? I must see whether this love is true to the end.”
“You are seein’ an Englisha girl,” Mamm said. “Is that not sorrow enough? How can that ever be made right?”
“How can you say that?” Eli asked, distress in his voice.
“Eli, look,” Daett said. “I have no complaints about you. You have been all a son could be. You do not hold back from your work on the farm. You are up with the dawn as any good man should be. Your mamm and I have no regrets. Yet in this you have chosen the wrong way. You might think it a matter of decidin’ later, but that is not how it is with these matters of the heart. They become their own road. Once started, they cannot be left easily. It would be best if you let this girl know that you will not be seein’ her again. You can ask your sisters if you don’t know of any suitable girls among our own people. They can tell you of them. Then Da Hah will be mendin’ your heart before you know it. And your mamm and I will be at peace in our old age.”
After a brief silence in which Ella held her breath, Eli said, “I cannot do this, Daett. I love her too much.”
Mamm’s silent tears became gentle sobs.
Eli’s face was fixed and unmoving like a rock in the field. “I will leave—tonight even—if that is for the best. I will find a place in town, perhaps, if this will keep you from shame and sorrow.”
Ella heard Dora gasp, and then silence settled again. The lantern hissed loudly above them. What will Daett say? Is this the end for Eli? Is this how I am to remember him—white faced, on his feet beside the couch, and determined to love the one he’s chosen? Can I dare offer my home to him now and give him a place of shelter? Suddenly the question was a mountain over which she could see no pass to cross.
Daett leaned back in his chair and focused on the ceiling. Ella thought Eli would say something more, but he was silent.
“You cannot send him away,” Mamm said in a weak voice.
“We must do what is right,” Daett said to Mamm. He drew out each word slowly. “Yet this is not the time. I will speak more with my son…perhaps later. We can surely reason with him.” Turning to Eli, he continued, “
No, Eli, you can stay. You have not yet sinned so greatly that it calls for leavin’.”
Eli’s head came up, and relief flooded his face. Brave as he had been, his heart had not wished to leave. Ella reached out to him, squeezed his hand, and saw a tear spring to his eye. He loved them all, she knew. Surely, by the grace of God something could be worked out.
“It is well, then…for now. We will speak more of this later,” Daett said as he began rocking slowly. “But I would speak with Ella and you too, Mamm, after the others have gone.”
Dora went to stand with Eli. Glancing at each other, they walked to the stairs and climbed them one by one without comment.
Ella gripped the side of the couch till her fingers hurt. Is Daett now going to deal with me for my silence on the matter?
Eleven
The sound of Eli and Dora’s footsteps on the hardwood stairs faded into silence. Ella could feel the tightness in her chest while an intense fear gripped her entire body.
“I know I have sinned with my silence,” she whispered, “yet I meant this for good.”
Daett cleared his throat. The sound blended in one seamless note with the gas lantern on the ceiling. She turned to face him and take his judgment with courage and his rebuke with an open heart.
Instead a smile played on his face and a gentle look softened his eyes. She drew her breath in astonishment. The sudden burst of air burned her throat.
“I wished to speak in private,” he said gently, “because this also is a matter of the heart—not of judgment. I wish to speak to you about the bishop. Has he come to visit yet?”
Ella’s mind whirled in an effort to bring her thoughts around. The memory of the bishop’s visit here many months ago flashed before her eyes. She remembered his knees on the chair close to hers as he focused his full attention on her face.
Ella's Wish (Little Valley 2) Page 6