The Bridesmaid

by Beverly Lewis

  “Care to go walkin’?” he said.

  “Or we could take the carriage.” Joanna’s eyes sparkled, and he saw again how exceptionally pretty she was. “We could walk along Weaver’s Creek, if you’d like.”

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her there was no time for riding like last time. Besides, lingering at the creek would simply prolong things. “I really can’t stay,” he said, pushing the words out.

  Her face turned pale. “Why not?”

  “I have a round-trip bus ticket. Gotta leave today.” He couldn’t bear her disappointed expression.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We need to talk over some important things.” He motioned toward the field lane on this side of the cornfield, where they’d walked in the cold and snow last November. Now that he was here, seeing her . . . he wanted to reach for her hand and feel it nestled in his, the way they’d walked before. Eben found it hard to voice what he’d come to say. Not hard, no—nearly impossible.

  Joanna looked up at him as they headed across the driveway, a frown piercing her lovely face. And it was then he realized he was walking much too fast. He must slow down, slow everything down and take his time—their time—so he wouldn’t regret it later. He had to first muster the courage to tell her how disappointed he was, soothe her with his own sadness, somehow.

  He forged ahead. “My plans have suddenly changed, Joanna. Things are out of my control.” He felt her stiffen as they walked beside each other, the electricity still evident between them.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know I’d hoped to court you here.” Eben drew a breath. Could he get the words out without making a fool of himself? “But circumstances have gotten in the way.” His voice sounded foreign even to him. “It’s become impossible for me to move to Hickory Hollow, after all.”

  Her eyes widened. “What’s happened?”

  He had to make her understand, so he tried again. “Leroy has thrown a wrench into everything. He got himself married to an outsider—brought her home to meet the family just yesterday.”

  “So . . . he’s not comin’ back, then?”

  He shook his head. “I prayed he would get fed up with English life and come home to work with our father—and take my place.”

  She nodded her head slowly. “And there’s no other choice but for you to stay put there?”

  “My father can’t manage on his own.”

  She fell silent as they walked farther away from the house.

  After a time, he felt compelled to answer the unspoken question hanging between them. “I just had to come see ya, Joanna. I couldn’t put this to you in a letter.” If only she hadn’t written so often about her great fondness for Hickory Hollow, this whole thing would’ve been much easier! “You deserved better, so I wanted to come here, to tell you in person.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” She stared at the ground for the longest time.

  “What if you could move to Shipshewana?”

  She immediately looked horrified, as if it was unthinkable. “I’ve never really considered it, Eben.” She sighed audibly. “Thought you wanted to—”

  “I know it’s a lot to ask.”

  She shook her head, eyes glistening.

  “You all right?” he asked, touching her elbow.

  She flinched slightly. Then, raising her head to the sky, she pursed her lips and glanced toward a farm in the near distance . . . then smiled faintly.

  What was this expression? Was she actually relieved they were parting ways?

  He waited for her to say more, but when she continued in her silence, he remembered the auburn-haired young man who’d enthusiastically waved good-bye to her. No question, that fellow was sweet on Joanna.

  Understandably so . . .

  Somehow he found the courage to ask, “What is your bishop’s stance on transferring church membership?” He hadn’t wanted to broach this topic, didn’t want to put her on the spot. He did recall her mother’s pointed response to this during the last visit, but he needed to hear directly from Joanna.

  “Bishop John’s mighty strict,” she stated, then paused like she was struggling terribly. “No, I doubt I’d be permitted to leave . . . now.”

  Eben wished he hadn’t asked.

  ———

  Joanna was so stunned she could scarcely speak. He came all this way just to say good-bye? She could not grasp this terrible turn of events. Truth was, Eben seemed at a loss to say more about his dilemma, simply blaming his brother Leroy for this mess. And the fact that Eben had asked, nearly out of the blue, if she’d move to Shipshewana . . . What timing! She was too embarrassed to tell him about the preacher’s warning, especially now, when Eben seemed to be breaking up with her. Oh, how she loved him! How could she let him just give up on their relationship—everything they’d meant to each other?

  Even so, she’d made a vow to God and to this church district, so there was no considering a move away to Indiana. Certainly not when Preacher Yoder’s counsel burned in her ears.

  Considering everything, it didn’t make a whit of sense to keep walking like this, dragging out the inevitable. Her heart was being torn further with every step.

  “I’m truly sorry it’s come to this, Joanna,” Eben said quietly. “I just see no way out . . . not anymore.”

  Because I’m not able to move to Indiana, she thought, knowing she’d pushed herself into a corner because of her love for writing. No, Leroy wasn’t the only one who’d created this problem.

  Joanna couldn’t look at Eben for fear he might see her dismay.

  They walked another few minutes without talking. She felt like Mamma’s pressure cooker as the chasm between them grew by the second.

  “I kept hopin’ to see us together somehow,” he said glumly. “I can’t say enough how sorry I am.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” she said, hoping he’d understand how much she cared for him. But she didn’t dare ask anything more . . . she felt she was being as pushy as Jake was said to be. If only she could erase all the months of their separation and turn the clock back to the evening they’d first met in Virginia. When the world seemed to tilt as the sun fell into the ocean. When he’d whispered into her hair . . .

  They were approaching the far perimeter of her father’s field, where the grazing land bordered Ella Mae’s son-in-law’s property. Feeling forlorn and terribly helpless, Joanna looked toward the Wise Woman’s Dawdi Haus again and remembered her pointed caution. True to form, she had not minced words. “Complications,” Ella Mae had said about long-distance relationships.

  Joanna wanted to turn around and hurry back to the house, put this painful visit behind her. But in that moment, she spotted Jake Lantz sitting with Ella Mae under a shade tree on a double glider. Can he see us out here? she wondered, hoping not. As it was, Eben might very well be peeved at her being with Jake earlier. She almost wondered if she ought to say something, clarify that Jake had asked her for a ride—that he was nothing but a casual friend, if that. But might that only draw attention to Jake? Oh, she didn’t know what to do!

  “We should prob’ly head back,” Eben said. “I need to call for a cab soon.”

  Her heart sank as she pointed to the telephone shanty in the next field over. The very spot where she’d looked forward to going to hear his voice. She sighed, choking back tears.

  Eben offered a nod, then headed off in that direction.

  Observing him walk, his posture so straight, his black suspenders perfectly crisscrossed against his white short-sleeved shirt—he wore his for-gut clothes again—Joanna refused to cry. “Either a fella wants ya or he doesn’t,” she’d heard Ella Mae say some years ago. “No sense in pleading for what’s goin’ to fizzle anyways.”

  No, Joanna wouldn’t fight for what could not be, and she wouldn’t fret over him, not in his presence, anyhow.

  She would sorely miss his calls and the many letters postmarked from Shipshewana. They had become such an important part of her wee
ks . . . her life.

  In the depths of her heart, Joanna knew this parting meant much more than losing a beau. Joanna felt her last chance to marry for love slipping away.

  Brokenhearted, she watched Eben open the wooden door to the shanty and reach for the telephone.

  Chapter 26

  Eben’s hand shook as he pulled the number for the cab company out of his pocket and attempted to dial the phone. Worst day of my life.

  He stopped and hung up, still gripping the receiver as he stared out the lone window. If he did succeed in acquiring transportation back to the bus depot, he would sit there for a couple of hours until time to board for the overnight return trip—squander his precious time with Joanna. Yet there was nothing more to say; she seemed upset by his presence . . . even put out with him. It had been so long since he’d seen her, he wasn’t sure he was reading her correctly. Was she sad he was calling off their plans? Angry?

  We’re almost like strangers.

  He prayed for wisdom. Life had come crashing down indeed. And here he was, muddling through when he ought to be moving heaven and earth to win Joanna’s heart and make her his bride.

  Lifting the receiver again, he managed to dial this time. He went through the motions of speaking to someone at the dispatch office, asking for a ride within the hour, hoping that might give him a bit more time here—to make sure Joanna was all right. Although at the rate he was going, he wasn’t certain she wanted him around at all. And who could blame her? He’d written her love letters, promising things based on mere hope . . . things he now knew he couldn’t fulfill. “Ich hab en Hutsch draus gemacht,” he whispered, glancing at his watch. There was no doubt in Eben’s mind: He had made a mess of it.

  ———

  Joanna was in such a bad way, she couldn’t bring herself to stand there and wait for Eben to finish up his call. To preserve her sense of propriety, she walked back to the house and began to unhitch the horse, wondering where her parents and Cora Jane were keeping themselves.

  She forced her thoughts away from the ragged ache that hadn’t let up since she realized Eben was returning to Indiana, taking back his promise of love and a future together. Why hadn’t she told on herself about the visit from Preacher Yoder . . . the complication she’d caused by not explaining herself? Why not, when their courtship was already coming to a painful end?

  In a few minutes, Jake appeared again on this side of the barnyard, having returned through Dat’s field. As before, his face glowed at seeing her. “Say, let me help ya, Joanna.” And before she could politely refuse, he began to assist with the heavy harness. She hoped Eben wouldn’t get the wrong idea, if he were to spot them working together. But then, realizing that was a ridiculous worry now, she dismissed it. After all, Eben had just let her go, so why should she fret? It might even be providential for Eben to see her with Jake.

  Just that quickly, Joanna felt chagrined. No way did she wish jealousy on Eben. But she did wish she could erase his words and return to the days of their romance, however stalled. At least then the sting in her heart would not be so sharp.

  In that moment, Cousin Malinda’s husband, Andy, came rumbling down the road in his hay wagon. He slowed at the end of the lane, then called to her. “Joanna, come schnell! Hop aboard!” Something was obviously wrong. And without hesitation, she dashed to the road, leaving Jake behind.

  Andy was hatless, his blond hair sticking out every which way like he’d run his hands through it.

  “Was fehlt?” she asked.

  “Mammi Kurtz collapsed in the kitchen . . . seriously injured her hip,” Andy explained.

  “Ach, no!” Joanna had seen how unsteady her grandmother had been earlier. I should’ve stayed with her! “Are my parents and Cora Jane over there already?”

  “Jah, and your mother needs help with Dawdi, ’specially once the ambulance arrives.”

  Joanna felt terrible for not making sure her grandmother was all right. For more reasons than one, she should not have come home.

  However anxious she was to be with her family, she also didn’t want to leave just yet . . . not without saying good-bye to Eben.

  Looking back, she saw him heading toward the house, within a few yards of Jake and the horse and carriage. She groaned inwardly, knowing Jake was a talkative sort. It was anyone’s guess what he’d chew the fat about . . . and what Eben might say to him.

  She asked Andy to wait a minute, then hurried to Eben. “My grandmother’s fallen—might have a broken bone,” she said. “I’m needed over there.”

  Disappointment seemed to cloud his countenance as she offered a quick farewell.

  Unexpectedly, he reached for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Gott be with you, Joanna,” he said simply.

  She tried to give him a smile in return, then, knowing it was best not to linger, headed back to Andy, who hoisted her up and into the wagon.

  The horse moved forward, and Joanna looked back to Eben . . . just in time to see him shake Jake’s hand. The two of them turned and were standing shoulder to shoulder, looking altogether befuddled as she rode away. If Joanna hadn’t felt so miserable right then, seeing Jake and Eben together like that might’ve struck her as almost comical.

  ———

  “Looks like it’s just us,” Jake said after introducing himself, helping Eben lead the horse to the stable. “Most folk call me Freckles Jake . . . guess you can, too.”

  Eben, still reeling with emotion, felt momentarily thankful Jake was being so down-home and relaxed. Like Leroy always was . . .

  “Gut to meet ya, Freckles Jake. I’m Eben Troyer.”

  Jake removed his straw hat and scratched his head. “That’s a family name we don’t hear much round here.”

  Eben nodded. “I’m from Indiana . . . Shipshewana, to be exact.”

  “Ah, so you’re the fella who visited last year.” Jake grinned now, planting his hat back on. “Nice to put a name to a face.”

  “Have you lived here your whole life?” Eben asked.

  “Born and bred.” Jake straightened and pushed out his chest. “We here in Hickory Hollow are mighty proud—well, in a gut sort of way—of our secluded little spot, hidden away from the English world. ’Tis hard to find, if you don’t know where you’re goin’.”

  Eben could vouch for that. The cab driver today had never even heard of Hickory Lane and didn’t know it was east of Intercourse Village—a strange name for a town, Eben thought. Thank goodness for the cabbie’s GPS.

  “Well, what do ya think of our hollow?” Jake asked, looking him over but good as they walked out of the stable.

  “I see why folk like it.” Joanna especially.

  “Looks like you’ve got some time on your hands, what with Joanna carted off and all.”

  If Eben had been in a better mood, he would have chuckled. “Not much time, actually.”

  “All right, then. You gonna spend it standing lookin’ like you’re lost?”

  Something about this young man demanded his attention. “I like you, Jake. I truly do.” He clapped his hand on Jake’s shoulder, feeling the muscles there. No question this was a hardworking, responsible fellow. “What can ya tell me about your Ordnung here? How strict is your bishop, for starters?”

  A frown appeared on Jake’s face. “Oh, now, you don’t want to fool with the likes of Bishop John Beiler.”

  “So . . . mighty strict, then?”

  Jake bobbed his head. “Imposed the harshest shunning anywhere some years ago. A young girl wouldn’t submit to the church over her music.”

  Eben’s ears perked up. “Really, now?”

  “She ended up leavin’—took her guitar with her.”

  Eben didn’t need to hear how harsh they’d treated her, but he did wonder about the types of vows required at church baptism. “Some churches want their members to stay put in the same district their whole life.”

  “Jah, that’s pretty much what we’ve got right here.”

  Eben considered that, his mind g
oing a hundred miles an hour. “Ever know anyone who managed to get permission to move to another Amish church?” No doubt the reason for his questions was apparent to Jake, but Eben couldn’t help asking.

  “Well, a few . . . sure. But they were members in good standing.” Jake studied him hard. “Why do ya ask?”

  “Curious is all.” Eben couldn’t help but wonder why Joanna had said so emphatically otherwise. Had she purposely misrepresented the bishop? Surely not. And he couldn’t imagine a girl like Joanna not being highly regarded in the church.

  No, Eben knew the real truth. She simply was not interested in leaving her beloved home . . . not even to marry him.

  Chapter 27

  As she rode to her grandparents’ house, Joanna could still picture Eben with Jake, standing at the end of the lane. She squelched the urge to cry, knowing she must be strong for her mother . . . and for poor Dawdi, who would surely want to go along in the ambulance with Mammi. That’s just how he was these days—hardly let her out of his sight.

  I’ll be the one to stay home with him.

  Tears sprang to her eyes as she considered both the unforeseen breakup with Eben and now Mammi’s terrible fall. Truly, Joanna could hardly hold herself together.

  Eben spotted the yellow cab coming this way and immediately regretted having to leave. If only he could have come here under much different circumstances. Like his visit last wedding season. Yet, knowing what he did now, he could see she was not willing to commit, not when it meant a move. Otherwise, why would she not say there were exceptions to membership transfers? She’d lost interest in him . . . perhaps in part because of the friendly fellow beside him.

  “Mighty nice talkin’ with ya,” Jake said, moseying onto the road with a wave as he headed toward home.

  “You too.” The encounter with Jake had seemed meant to be.

  Eben opened the back door of the cab and got in, watching Joanna’s house fade from sight as they sped away. He took in the springtime views, especially noticing the well-tended lawns and surrounding flower gardens—every farmhouse here was pristine and tidy, too. Not that his community back home wasn’t as well cared for, of course . . . it just struck him that each and every property here was remarkably maintained.