The Bridesmaid

by Beverly Lewis

Her mother gave a sudden frown, leaning around Joanna to stare at the house again. “For pity’s sake, where’s Cora Jane? Slow as molasses in January!”

  “She might be feelin’ embarrassed ’bout last week.”

  “Well, we’re not leaving here without her,” Mamma declared.

  Joanna resumed talking about Mamma’s ailing father, saying he seemed to need more rest than ever before. “Mammi says he takes two or more naps a day.”

  “And the older he gets, the more he’ll want to doze,” Mamma agreed. “Seems elderly folk and wee tykes require more sleep than the rest of us.”

  Just then, Mamma brightened as Cora Jane burst out the back door and sped across the yard, her skirt tail flying.

  “Ach, I’m ready!” Cora Jane called, nearly leaping into the carriage. She sat down with a thump, taking more than her share of space. Then she leaned back dramatically. “I shouldn’t have rushed so!”

  Joanna sputtered at that. Did she really have to make a spectacle of herself?

  “Cora Jane, we’ve been sitting out here waitin’ for ya,” Mamma rebuked. “You best be more considerate in the future, hear?”

  Cora Jane nodded slowly.

  “I mean it,” Mamma added, the reins taut in her hands.

  Cora Jane gave Joanna a quick look.

  Joanna hoped things would go well this quilting frolic. Far as she could tell, Cora Jane had gone from being rather lethargic at the breakfast table to just a mite too spunky now.

  Hickory Lane was busier than usual with horses and carriages. Amish neighbors waved as they passed, and here and there small children ran barefoot after the carriage. Others skipped rope beneath shade trees or played jacks on the front porch, where it was still cool. And all the while, Joanna felt she was holding her breath, wondering how Cora Jane might behave today.

  Yet neither her mother nor her sister made a peep, and the sound of the horse’s clip-clopping helped relax Joanna somewhat. She particularly enjoyed the sight of little red squirrels climbing trees along the roadside. Cows roamed the grazing land, and mule teams worked the soil, plowing and chasing sunshine.

  The day was going to be unusually warm. Joanna was glad she’d thought to bring along her bandana for the ride home later this afternoon. She might even loosen her hair bun, although she’d never think of undoing it entirely in public. Looking at the sky, she hoped for the possibility of a rain shower. Just maybe, she thought, feeling terribly cramped with three in the seat.

  Then, quite unexpectedly, Cora Jane folded her hands and looked at their mother. “Ach, Mamma . . . I’m real sorry for makin’ a scene last week over Linda Jean,” she said humbly. “Honestly.”

  A sweet smile spread across Mamma’s face. “Well, dear, maybe ya didn’t realize that pink is an approved color for Amish dresses in some areas of Ohio.”

  Cora Jane hung her head. “It just looked so awful worldly,” she replied, staring at her lap, her tone softer now. “Such a loud color.”

  Joanna wasn’t sure she ought to put her nose into the conversation. She waited for a moment, then quietly suggested that there were many different church ordinances, even within a five-mile radius in Lancaster County. Maybe Cora Jane wasn’t too aware of this, not being baptized yet.

  “Just none that permits pink for courting-age girls, jah?” replied Cora Jane, raising her eyes.

  “That’s absolutely right,” Mamma said.

  The discussion triggered a curiosity in Joanna. What color dresses did Eben’s mother and sisters wear in Shipshewana? Oh, she’d love to know more about his family and their church ordinances, too. Then she scolded herself, knowing she had no need to consider any of that, at least not for herself.

  Yet, what if Eben did ask her to come to live in Shipshewana after all? What would she say to that?

  Chapter 19

  Joanna was pleasantly surprised by Cora Jane’s change in attitude as she worked cheerfully with the other women amidst the chatter, using her tiny quilting needle at the frame. Cora Jane also went out of her way to show extra patience when Mary Beiler’s youngest children were a bit rambunctious under the table during the noon meal. She got down on the floor, where she reached around the little girl and whispered something. Whatever Cora Jane said made the child’s face light up like a lantern, and the child settled right down and played with her rag dolls more calmly from then on.

  When no one was paying much attention, Joanna slipped outside with her sewing bag to the family carriage to write a few things in her notebook. She could get inspiration at the oddest times and was ever so glad she’d thought to bring the notebook and a pen along today.

  Stepping into the buggy, she sat and opened her canvas sewing bag—but the notebook was gone. “Wu is es?—Where is it?” she whispered, looking behind the seat. Had it somehow fallen out of the bag? She peered into the rear section of the carriage.

  Joanna’s heart flickered. Her writing notebook was nowhere to be seen! Wracking her brain, she wondered if she’d dropped it back home, perhaps when getting into the buggy. Could that be? But no, she’d had it with her when they arrived here and when she helped Mamma carry her quilting basket into the bishop’s house. She was fairly certain of that.

  Her mind in a whirl, Joanna searched every inch of the carriage, then got out and hurried down the driveway leading to Hickory Lane. And as she went, she lamented ever bringing the notebook at all, especially when it contained a love story. Besides that, it was unwise to have brought it to the bishop’s own house, of all places! Why didn’t I think of that?

  She fumed at herself and fretted, her head hurting as she stood at the edge of the road. And a dreadful thought came to her: Maybe she hadn’t lost it after all.

  “Did someone purposely take my notebook?” Joanna whispered, remembering Cora Jane’s warning last night.

  It was difficult to concentrate the rest of the afternoon. Joanna dropped stitches and was so distracted at one point, she even pricked her finger, causing a drop of blood to fall onto the quilt. Mary Beiler hopped out of her chair like she’d been stung by a wasp, her prayer cap strings flying, and went to get a cold washrag to dab at the spot.

  “I’m awful sorry,” Joanna apologized. “I truly am.”

  “Don’t worry,” Mary assured her as she worked feverishly on the stain, though eventually she gave up on getting it out completely. “This could happen to anyone.”

  Joanna groaned. “I’ve ruined the quilt,” she said, worrying a thread loose.

  “No, no. Ain’t the worst thing, really,” Mary insisted as she leaned down to nearly touch her forehead to Joanna’s.

  Mamma spoke up from farther down the frame. “The spot will come out, dear,” and several heads popped up, nodding. “You’ll see,” Mamma added, her brow wrinkling with empathy.

  Cora Jane averted her gaze and pressed her lips together in a flat line, appearing as concerned as Joanna felt.

  Joanna looked once more to her mother for support, glad for Mamm’s merciful expression, although still painfully aware of the all-too-noticeable blemish on the quilt. Right in front of Joanna’s nose, too!

  Alas, she had no one to blame but herself. She’d been a Dummkopp to bring her story notebook along. Yet never before had anything disappeared from her bag, for pity’s sake!

  Pondering the whole situation again, Joanna felt even more mortified.

  Ach, I should’ve known better!

  The ride home seemed considerably longer than usual as Joanna squinted into the late-afternoon sun. She could hardly wait to get home to see if she’d dropped her notebook in the yard or left it on the kitchen table. But although she didn’t dare ask to look inside Cora Jane’s own sewing bag, she was certain it looked more rigid than when her sister had climbed into the carriage that morning. In fact, Joanna was sure she could see the outline of her notebook tucked inside.

  She chided herself—Joanna had never been one to falsely accuse someone. Yet who else was nosy enough to take it?

  Thank goodness t
here was not a speck of conversation in the carriage as they rode. Joanna was so worked up, she was intentionally drawing slow, deep breaths, lest she spout off. She glanced again at Cora Jane, who looked at her quizzically but still said nothing.

  Finally, when they pulled into the lane leading to the house, Joanna remembered the quilt waiting for her at Cousin Malinda’s. “Mamma, would ya mind leaving the horse and carriage hitched up?” she asked. At this, both Cora Jane and Mamma looked surprised. “I need to go to Malinda’s right quick,” Joanna explained, not wanting to say why.

  “But I need to go somewhere, too,” Cora Jane piped up. “Why can’t ya just walk over to Malinda’s?”

  “Well, I have to bring something back with me,” Joanna said. “Something too heavy to carry.”

  “All right, then,” Mamma said, appearing weary from the long day. “Make it quick so Cora Jane can get her errand run, too.”

  “Where are you headed?” Joanna asked her sister, wondering if perhaps she’d simply asked for the carriage to be difficult.

  “Oh, you’ll see,” Cora Jane said mysteriously. “In due time.”

  Not interested in playing along, Joanna shook her head. “I shouldn’t be long” was all she said.

  Mamma, who’d surely detected the tension between them, asked Cora Jane, “Did ya enjoy yourself more so today, dear?”

  “It was nice seein’ everyone again,” Cora Jane replied. “And we finished up the friendship quilt, ’cept for the hem, ain’t so?”

  “That we did,” said Mamma, letting go of the reins as she eyed Cora Jane. “I’m sure you’ll want to host some quilting frolics of your own one day.”

  “When I’m married?” Cora Jane said, a smile playing on her lips.

  “From what I’ve heard, a wedding might not be too far off,” Mamma replied with a sly look.

  “Now, Mamma!” Cora Jane laughed, which solidified what Joanna—and obviously their mother, too—had strongly suspected: Cora Jane was planning to be a bride, maybe as soon as this fall.

  Before me, Joanna thought with a sinking feeling.

  ———

  While Cora Jane tied the horse to the hitching post, Joanna retraced her steps into the house, trying not to be conspicuous. The notebook was not on the back walkway or on the lawn, so she made her way inside and looked all over the kitchen, the table and counters, and even under the wooden benches, trembling now. All the hours of writing, for naught! She peeked out the window and saw Cora Jane standing near the horse, her own sewing bag over her shoulder.

  Crestfallen, Joanna snatched up the flashlight she’d borrowed from Cousin Malinda last evening and headed back outside. She saw Cora Jane running to catch up with Mamma, who was walking to the stable, most likely to let Dat know they were back. Since Joanna had already asked Mamma for the buggy, she went out and untied the horse, then got back inside the carriage, sitting on the far right side this time as she picked up the reins. Her emotions were all jumbled up between the regretful loss of her notebook and the anticipation of bringing the wedding quilt home. I shouldn’t accept it, she thought as she drove to Malinda’s, not if Cora Jane’s getting married this fall.

  Even if Eben were to move to Hickory Hollow tomorrow, Joanna wondered if he could get established in a job quickly enough for them to wed come November.

  Thinking then of her plan to seek some perspective from Ella Mae, Joanna continued on to her cousin’s house. Soon, the lovely heirloom quilt would be in her possession.

  My beautiful wedding quilt . . .

  Chapter 20

  Eben and his father were shoveling out the dung in the stable when a white Mustang convertible with black stripes along the side whooshed into the lane. Taken off guard, Eben realized Leroy had just arrived.

  “Well, what do ya know?” Daed said, going to stand in the doorway of the barn.

  “Looks like he’s got himself a girlfriend,” Eben muttered next to Daed. “Guess we should go and wash up, jah?”

  “For certain!” His father fell into step right behind him, pulling his gloves off and tossing them on the lawn near the well pump.

  Eben waved at Leroy. “Willkumm home, Bruder!” he called, motioning for Leroy and the pretty redhead to go inside. Eben waited his turn as Daed lathered his hands at the pump. “Been muckin’ out the barn, so need to wash up gut before we shake hands.”

  Leroy’s face broke into a frown, and he exchanged glances with the petite young woman. Eben took his turn with a bar of soap at the well pump before hurrying indoors to alert his mother to their company. “Leroy’s back—has a lady friend along.”

  “Leroy’s here?” Mamm’s eyes grew big as she ran her hands over her Kapp and bodice.

  “Comin’ up the porch steps.”

  “Hullo, son. Good to have ya home,” Daed said as he pushed his big hand into Leroy’s.

  Eben didn’t want to gawk, but his brother looked taller than he remembered, broader shoulders, too. Was it the petite young woman at his side? He went over to shake Leroy’s hand while Mamm hovered near, smiling like she didn’t know what else to do or say . . . tears springing to her eyes.

  “Daed . . . Mamm, I want you to meet Debbie,” said Leroy, slipping his arm around her. “Mrs. Debbie Troyer.”

  Mrs. Troyer? Eben’s heart sank at Leroy’s news.

  “You’re married?” Mamm blurted.

  “Two weeks tomorrow.” Leroy grinned down at his bride, who had the thickest, darkest eyelashes Eben had ever seen.

  “This is . . . well, a surprise,” Daed said, managing a smile and shaking Debbie’s hand.

  Polite though his father was, Eben could tell he was masking his disappointment.

  Debbie offered a warm smile of her own. “I’m real pleased to meet you, sir. I wanted to before the wedding, but it was so difficult for Leroy to get away.”

  Mamm intervened somewhat by directing them into the kitchen, waving Leroy toward the bench. Then, her face mighty pink, she offered a seat to Debbie, as well, and something to eat. “We can’t have our new daughter-in-law goin’ hungry, now, can we?” Like Daed, she was clearly flustered.

  They sat around the table, except for Mamm, who made her way to the gas-powered refrigerator to pull out a pitcher of lemonade and some apples to slice. Freshly baked bread, butter, and several choices of jams were next, Eben guessed. And a pie, too, soon enough.

  In the meantime, Leroy was talking a mile a minute, now that the ice was broken. But when Eben looked at Leroy and his bride and how very happy they seemed together, it made him think of Joanna’s dress brushing against him as they strolled along the beach, hand in hand . . . and of reaching to hold her tenderly on her father’s field road.

  Any hope he’d had for marrying her in Pennsylvania and living there was gone. His father needed him here, working the farm. There was no one else to rely upon. And as much as Joanna loved Hickory Hollow, he couldn’t think of asking her to leave to settle down and marry out here. Could he?

  I’m locked in!

  Discouraged, Eben looked down the table at Leroy, clean-shaven and wearing pressed navy slacks and a pale yellow shirt. Daed needed someone, and it sure wasn’t going to be Leroy.

  Never was, thought Eben miserably.

  When Joanna arrived at Malinda’s, she found her pressing two Kapps in the kitchen, humming a song from the old Ausbund.

  “Knock, knock,” Joanna called to her.

  Malinda looked up and quickly put the iron back on the stove. “Was wondering if you were goin’ to make it yet today.”

  “Wouldn’t’ve missed coming.”

  “I wrapped your quilt in brown paper,” Malinda told her, going to the sitting room around the corner to retrieve it. “You can store it as is, if you want.”

  “Denki.”

  Malinda leaned down to set the wrapped quilt on the kitchen table. “Would ya like some meadow tea or lemonade?”

  “I really can’t stay long. Cora Jane’s waiting for me to return with the horse and buggy.” />
  “How’s she doin’ these days?”

  Joanna considered what to say. “Well enough, I daresay . . . though the reason for that ain’t common knowledge, so keep it under your bonnet for now.”

  “A wedding, maybe?”

  Sighing, Joanna forced a smile, then looked away. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

  Malinda tilted her head, eyeing her. “You look sad ’bout it, Joanna. Are ya?”

  “Oh, not so much sad as concerned.” She bit her lip.

  “Do ya know Cora Jane’s fella?”

  “I do, but honestly her beau ain’t the worry.” She paused and looked down at the quilt. “That’s all I best be sayin’.”

  “I won’t press, but I’m here if you need to talk more.”

  Joanna was grateful but didn’t know where she’d even begin. “I appreciate that . . . really, I do.” All of a sudden, she could no longer restrain her emotions. Sobbing like her heart might break, she flew into her cousin’s open arms.

  A young elk grazed just beyond the woodshed, out near a stand of trees as Eben dutifully followed along with Leroy and his fancy wife on a tour of the farm. It was surprising how Daed was going overboard in his hospitality. He’d insisted on showing his new daughter-in-law around, leaving Eben in the dust and practically doting on Leroy and his bride. In fact, Eben felt more like the visitor than his father’s dependable right-hand man.

  He had long guessed that Daed preferred Leroy, not only as a son but as a potential business partner. Yet Eben had diligently worked to do Daed’s bidding while ticking off the days, weeks, and months until he could see Joanna again. Their inferior approach to courtship had become wearisome, although he had attempted to hold his own with letter writing, eager to keep Joanna happy. She’d never complained, and he knew she was patiently waiting for him. He looked forward to their phone chats every other week.

  Sadly, in the space of a few short minutes, the miles between them had grown to an impossible distance with the knowledge that Leroy wasn’t coming home to stay.