“All of us are human,” the bishop said with his blue eyes turned in her direction. “Eli’s a good boy.”
“He could have done a lot of damage to himself,” Ella said. “It might not have been stopped in time if you hadn’t spoken to him.”
“The girl will forget before long,” the bishop said. “Eli’s a gut-looking boy. I think he’ll stay true to the faith till his dying day, especially with one of our gut girls at his side.”
Ella smiled at the image. The bishop was so natural about the subject. “We are all thankful,” Ella said with a slight blush. He was so close to her, almost as close as Aden used to sit.
“I really didn’t do much, plus that’s what I’m called to do…to help our people in their time of trouble.”
Silence settled between them for a long moment.
“You sure you don’t want popcorn?” Ella asked, starting to rise again.
He shook his head, cleared his throat, and motioned with his hand for her to be seated. “I really want to come over…quite often and see more of you.”
Ella paused. What is there to say? “My door is open to you,” she said with a voice that trembled.
“Have you thought about—what we talked about?”
“Yah, I have.”
“Perhaps I rushed a little too fast by asking for your hand in marriage the first time I came.”
“Yah,” Ella said with some relief. The truth is good, and I might as well speak it. Of what worth is a marriage if truth cannot be spoken? “Your question—so soon—troubled me a lot. The pain was still great then. It still is, I guess. Sometimes I don’t know whether I can ever love again, at least like that. I suppose it’s best to tell you that now.”
“I am clumsy sometimes, Ella. I know I am. I’ve never been married. Yet the Lord has given me grace. I see now why. The reason I waited so long was so my heart could love you. I hope I don’t speak too plainly. I have just never felt like this before.”
She shook her head. “No, your words are fine. It’s just—”
While Ella paused, the bishop took up the opportunity. “I am sorry again for my haste. Yet perhaps it was best that way. By approaching you that early, your heart has been given a better time in which to begin healing. Sometimes wounds are that way. If they are left alone, they only fester, but with the proper care, they can begin to heal.”
“I can’t promise to marry you. Not yet,” she said plainly, meeting his eyes, which were so blue they startled her. But they aren’t Aden’s eyes. “It must be enough for you if you just come over…whenever you wish.”
“You are a woman of great courage, and—yah—honesty. In this Da Hah has given me a great gift. I hope in time to be worthy of your love. I love you, Ella,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand.
Ella didn’t resist. This was his right. She had just told him he could come to visit, and a touch of affection would perhaps help. With a deep breath, she smiled and laid her other hand on top of his. He squeezed her hand and laughed softly. His laugh was melodious and deep, but this wasn’t the laughter that she had so long loved. The emptiness was an echo that roared in her ear.
“So tell me what you plan to do with this great big house of yours.”
Ella leaned against the back of the couch and folded her hands on her lap. “Well, Preacher Stutzman’s children come tomorrow, and I plan to care for them during the week, for a while anyway. Between you and me, Preacher Stutzman has paid—or soon will be paying—someone a call. A wedding is well on the way, I think. Also I have Joe and Ronda renting this floor of the house. They are moving in after they marry next week. The house should be quite full then, I think, and I sure can use the money.”
“Ivan,” he said in a tone that was still soft but with an edge on it. “You are taking care of his children?”
Ella turned to meet his eyes and laughed.
“He hasn’t called on you, has he?”
She laughed again. “Preacher Stutzman?”
He seemed to relax against the couch. “You never know.”
Ella wanted to tell him he ought to go thank Preacher Stutzman personally for his sermon. For that reason, she was more willing to accept his visits. She almost laughed again at the look he would get on his face if he knew.
“Well, I really don’t mean to hold you up,” he said, getting up. “So I’m welcome to come back when I wish?”
“Anytime,” she said. Her smile was a little weak, but she was just thankful she had a smile to give.
“Let’s not leave like this, though, without a solid plan. How about I come on Saturday nights? I’ve never courted before, you know. Is that how it’s done?”
The pain shot through her again. Surely her distress didn’t show too much. “Saturdays will be fine,” she said, glad he hadn’t chosen Aden’s schedule.
“It has been good to see you,” he said as he put his hat on, quietly motioning for her to remain seated. He opened and shut the front door quickly. She sat still on the couch for a full five minutes, until the sound of his buggy wheels had completely disappeared.
Twenty-two
Ella had set the alarm clock but awoke well before its jangle shook the early morning air. Fragmented thoughts from last night returned. The bishop had been here, and she had consented to his return. She had slept soundly—no dreams—so perhaps she had already begun to accept the inevitable. The bishop’s wife would be her fate before all was said and done.
She swung her feet out of the bed and onto the floor. Who really cares? Without Aden, what difference does this make—or matter? Little, really. I will never care for another man anyway. If everyone else is happy with this arrangement, they should all leave me in peace.
Perhaps I’m being rebellious like Eli this morning. Well, so be it. At least I have my house for now, work I want to do, and hopefully the quilt shop to start up.
She dressed quickly and went downstairs. After lighting the lantern, she prepared a cold cereal breakfast and ate by herself. Cold cereal couldn’t always be for breakfast—not with three little girls to care for. The thought of food preparation startled her. There was no stove upstairs or in the basement. The chimney wasn’t designed to work with another stove on the second floor, and it couldn’t safely be adjusted now. How like a woman, to forget something like this.
Yet there must be a way around this problem. Ella’s mind spun. Ronda will simply have to share the stove for food preparation. The girls can eat later, after Joe leaves for work, and the food can be stored upstairs or in the basement. Will Ronda need to be told about this before she moves in? No, likely not. Ronda is a sensible girl.
Buggy wheels rattled in the driveway, and Ella jumped up. Preacher Stutzman was early. The girls would likely be bundled up against the morning chill and surely have at least one suitcase full of clothes and diapers. Ella rushed to the front door to help, forgetting her own coat that hung in the closet.
The knock sounded before she got there. How did Preacher Stutzman get to the front door with three small girls so quickly? Maybe he left them alone in the buggy. But he doesn’t seem to be that sort of man.
“Yah,” she said, opening the door.
His figure was surrounded by the early morning rolling fog. “I thought I’d come and tell you myself, so you won’t worry.”
“Yah?” she said, repeating herself, completely puzzled.
He clutched the brim of his hat as the fog swept around him. “The children won’t be coming after all. I suppose Susanna and I can handle them.”
“Did I…do something?” She asked the burning question and wondered, What did he see in me yesterday to cause this decision?
“No,” he said, looking at the ground. “The young Bishop Miller stopped by last night. He thinks this arrangement might not be appropriate because he’s seein’ you now.”
“The bishop?” Ella said as her hand flew to her mouth. “He came to speak with you last night?”
“Yah, I really didn’t know anything was going on between the two
of you. I wasn’t tryin’ to cause problems—for you or for him. If I have, I am most sorry. I’m kind of clumsy since Lois passed. Perhaps before that, I was too, and she was just good enough not to tell me.”
“He really told you that?” Ella asked, still trying to absorb the news.
“Yah, well I’d best be going. I have more than enough work to do already, and now I’m starting a bit late.”
“Wait,” Ella said, causing him to turn back to face her. “I will speak with the bishop about this. I will be by later for the girls.”
“You will speak with the bishop?” he asked with a look of astonishment on his face. The question hung in the air.
“It’s not right,” she said, surprised at her own boldness. “The bishop told me nothing about this, and I didn’t know he would say this to you. I am the one who is sorry for his actions.”
“You are sorry for the bishop?” Preacher Stutzman asked and then laughed roughly as if he didn’t believe she had been so bold.
“Yes, I am,” Ella said, feeling a sense of resolve surge in her heart. “I will be down at your place soon to pick up the girls. That is if it’s still okay with you.”
“You—but how will you do this?” Preacher Stutzman asked while holding his hat in his hand. “He is Bishop Miller, not just any bishop. But perhaps I should not speak so…of your promised one. He is a gut man.”
“Whatever he is, he is wrong on this,” Ella said. “If you don’t object, I will be down later.”
“You will speak with the bishop first surely?”
“Yah, I will speak with him first.”
“You will tell him that I told you the girls could not come here and that I did not encourage you?”
“Yah, I will speak only for myself.”
“Then I would be more than glad if we could continue with our plan. I really don’t know what I’ll do otherwise. Susanna is already burdened with the girls’ care, and I have the summer farm tasks to care for.”
“I will come, then.”
“I hope you do,” he said and then was gone, swallowed quickly by the morning fog. Only the sound of buggy wheels lingered as Ella stood with one hand still on the open door.
“Well,” she said, “what nerve the gut bishop has.”
Then she took stock of her words and wondered at her boldness. What have I just proposed to do? I—Ella Yoder—will speak with Bishop Miller and plan to change his mind. Her spine tingled. No wonder Preacher Stutzman had looked so astonished, standing on my front porch!
Courage returned quickly. I really do have the upper hand. The bishop will, no doubt, realize this, and I will quickly gain his approval for the care of Preacher Stutzman’s girls. I’ll go at once. Breakfast was already eaten. With a glance toward the road, she saw the problem, but the fog could be overcome. Preacher Stutzman was out riding the roads, and so could she.
The horse greeted her with a whinny and stuck his nose into her face, causing her to push him away. “I don’t like you that much,” she said.
He bobbed his head violently.
With haste she threw on the harness and led him outside. She swung him under the shafts, fastened the tugs, and tied the horse to the hitching post. In the rush, she had forgotten her bonnet and shawl and went back to the house to get them. That was not a good sign, especially for a trip to the bishop, but she really needed to do this, good sign or not.
Once on the road, the fog seemed to clear up some. She thought of Preacher Stutzman’s three girls, and a swell of emotion rose in her chest, driving her on and strengthening her courage. They had looked so lost and so young on the day of their mother’s funeral. Why had sorrow come for them so early in their life? Da Hah must have his reasons, hidden though they were from human eyes.
A car and then another one passed her. Both pulled out in plenty of time to avoid her and then slowly passed by. Thankfully she had remembered to keep her buggy battery charged. The blinker on the buggy frame sent its bright flash into the mist in either direction.
The rays of the sun soon came through in spots, enough to where the fog didn’t seem to cause any further danger. As she approached the bishop’s house, Ella saw a light still on, and she pulled in the driveway. This early in the morning, the bishop was likely still in the barn and in the middle of chores.
Ella didn’t knock on the barn door but simply opened it and walked right in, straight into the glow of the lantern hanging from the ceiling. The bishop had fewer cows than she was used to, but they lined the stanchions as usual. The looks on their morning faces were quite familiar.
“Good morning! What a surprise,” the bishop said, getting up from beside a cow and causing his stool to scoot noisily on the floor. “You are the last person I expected to see.”
“I can leave if you want me to,” Ella said, surprised by her own boldness.
“Now, now,” the bishop said, laughing but quickly catching her mood, “I wouldn’t be saying something like that at all, not when you obviously have something important bothering you badly enough to rush over this early in morning—and in the fog. Did I say a wrong word last night? I certainly didn’t mean to.”
Ella caught her breath and calmed herself. Now that she was here, things did look a little different.
“Preacher Stutzman came by and said he wasn’t bringing the girls over as we’d planned. He said you had spoken with him last night and convinced him to drop the arrangement. I don’t think that’s right. He really needs someone to care for his girls. I’m about the only one available, and I need the money.”
“He’s not paying you that much, is he?”
“Forty dollars a week.” This obviously was now part of the bishop’s business.
“Like I said—not too much.”
“The amount isn’t the matter. I don’t think it was right…what you said. Preacher Stutzman really needs someone to care for his girls while he works.”
“I am concerned about how this will look when the word comes out that I’m seeing you, that’s all.”
“He has never asked me for anything else or done anything untoward. Nor has he implied it.”
“I know that now,” the bishop said, smiling warmly. “Perhaps I was a little hasty with my actions. I know I can be that way. See, I also spoke with Susanna after I saw Ivan. Perhaps I should have gone back and talked to Ivan again after Susanna told me Ivan is about to ask for one of our women’s hand in marriage. But I didn’t.”
“I told you that last night,” Ella said, “and the woman he’s askin’ isn’t me.”
“Yah, that I know. Susanna didn’t tell me who this woman is, but if it was you, she would have said so.”
“Then I can take care of his girls?”
“I guess it will be okay,” he said, smiling again, “since you have your heart so set on it. I guess no harm could come of it.”
“I do want to,” Ella said forcefully. There was no sense in leaving any doubt in the bishop’s mind. He might as well get used to her.
“You are a woman of courage, I must say, yet tempered as a godly woman should be,” the bishop said, reaching for his three-legged stool on the concrete floor. “I see more and more why Da Hah had me wait for you. I have never met a woman among our people I can value more.”
Ella felt the heat creep up her neck. He spoke so plainly.
“I hope I do not disappoint you,” she said, meeting his eyes.
“You will not. And you will be what Da Hah intended a woman to be—a gut helpmeet for me.”
“I really must go,” Ella said, finding her voice.
“It will be a long week till Saturday,” he said just when she reached the door.
Ella managed a smile, stepped outside, and closed the door behind her. The fog had rolled in again and rose in great billows around the buggy. She could hardly see the outline of the horse. For a moment she thought to ask the bishop if she could stay until the sun had cleared the clouds but thought better of it. Inside the buggy, she got the horse turned around
and out on the road. His hoofbeats cut a hollow sound in the morning air, and a chill rose around her, creeping through her shawl and making her eyes burn with tears.
Twenty-three
Ivan stood inside the house. His mind was in turmoil. How can I feel this way with my sermon on Sunday? Has my soul learned so little even after such a vigorous application of God’s Word? What chores can be done or have already been done? The girls are dressed, breakfast is over with, and the baby’s diaper is changed. Now the fields absolutely need to be tended. The farm can’t be neglected any longer.
He carried the baby and two-year-old Sarah and urged Mary to follow behind with her slow steps. Susanna will need persuading if she hasn’t already figured out my predicament. What am I to tell her—that the bishop forbids me to take my girls to Ella? The answer brought a blush to his face behind his beard. This was shame twice over and then some.
He didn’t knock on the door. He was too tired for such formalities. Susanna was his sister, after all. When he was just inside the front door, hoofbeats sounded from the road, and he grabbed the screen door again, opening it so violently his fingers slipped on the wood frame and bent the screen outward.
Did Ella arrive already? Such hope rushed through him, causing his face to burn with shame again. The girl does not belong to me, nor would she ever. Ella is promised to the bishop.
Ivan’s eyes caught sight of the buggy. Although it appeared fuzzy in the fog, he knew it wasn’t Ella’s. Wearily he turned back into the house as disappointment flooded through him.
No, she won’t come because surely the bishop won’t let her. The screen door slipped from his hand and slammed on his fingers. The pain felt good, like it cleaned his soul for a moment and purged him of this forbidden desire.
“That was an ouchy,” Mary said with wide eyes. “Does it hurt bad?”
“I’m bigger,” he said, smiling through his clenched teeth. “My fingers are thicker than yours.”
“Mamm’s were too,” Mary said. “Do you think they still are, up there in heaven where she is?”
Ella's Wish (Little Valley 2) Page 13