by Sarah Price
Ella suppressed a smile. “Ja, of course, Miriam.”
The older woman gave a sigh as if relieved that Ella had agreed. She patted the younger woman’s arm. “Such a good girl. You always have been.” Then, lowering her voice, Miriam added, “Some day you’ll make a wunderbarr gut fraa to a very special young man.”
The compliment caught Ella off guard. She wasn’t used to flattering remarks. It just wasn’t the way of the Amish. Coming from Miriam King, it felt extra special. Still, to acknowledge the praise would be to sound prideful. “Oh, Miriam, no more so than any other, I reckon.”
At that comment, Miriam chuckled and gave her arm one last pat. “We’ll see about that, Ella Troyer.” And then she hurried away to gather her things and join her husband, who was waiting near the door.
Ella puzzled over Miriam’s strange behavior for only a few seconds. Then she hurried toward the house, where she knew that the other older women were preparing the platters of food in the kitchen. Outside the barn, the men were busy carrying the worship benches to a shaded area, quickly converting them into long tables for the dinner meal.
On her way to the house, as Ella passed through the different clusters of waiting people, she looked for the stranger who had attended the worship service. But he was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t among the young men who were standing around catching up on the latest news and probably talking about the youth gathering that evening. Nor was he among the older men.
“Where are you going, Ella?” Sadie called out as Ella passed a group of young women.
“Going to lend a hand to the women. Want to come with me?”
Without even hesitating, Sadie nodded and joined her. Ella noticed that none of the other young women offered to help. Miriam’s words echoed in her mind.
As they approached the porch, Ella paused and cast one more glance at the sea of men standing near the tables. “Sadie,” Ella asked cautiously, “did you happen to see someone new seated with the young men in the back of the barn today?”
Her friend frowned and gave her a quizzical look. “Nee, I did not. Why?”
“No reason,” Ella said with a slight shrug. She felt foolish just for having asked the question. “Just thought I saw a newcomer. Was wondering who he might be.”
As she held the door open for her friend, Ella sighed. Was it possible that he had slipped away, along with the other members of the church who couldn’t stay for the fellowship hour, such as Miriam King and Belle Hershberger, or had she merely imagined the young man? She slipped inside the door, realizing that she probably would never know.
Chapter Four
The water on the pond barely rippled in the soft breeze as Ella sat on the edge of the bank, her toes buried in the wet soil. Surrounded by trees, Ella listened to the symphony of birds singing in the branches. Their songs filled her with joy, and she leaned back against her hands and shut her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face.
The pond was a place she had often escaped to when she was younger and her father was still alive—when Linda spent more time at the house. As the least domesticated woman Ella had ever known, Linda often created more of a mess than Ella could bear watching. It was easier for her to quietly leave the house rather than witness the demolition of the kitchen as Linda attempted to cook or bake.
But that had been before Linda recruited Ella to take over the kitchen duties. And now, with her father gone, Ella rarely had time to herself. On the infrequent occasions when she had caught up on her chores and knew that no one would be home for another hour or so, Ella loved to sneak away to sit by the edge of the pond and talk to God.
Today was one of those days.
And Ella was grateful for the respite from the confines of the house.
Ever since Monday, Linda and her daughters had been caught up in the turmoil of the store’s future, and no one seemed to pay any attention to Ella. And that was fine with her. Between washing clothes, cleaning the house, and weeding the garden—never mind cooking for such finicky eaters!—Ella welcomed the unexpected time alone on this lovely Friday afternoon.
For a long moment, she sat there, just watching the water. She loved how the sun reflected off the shimmering top of the pond. With the trees overhead bending, just slightly, in the cool breeze, it was the perfect August day.
It was also a perfect day to converse with God.
If there was ever a time when she needed to speak with God, it was now. Ella often had private conversations with him, asking him for help or, if that was not part of the plan, the strength to get through troubled times. She had leaned heavily on her faith ever since her father had passed away. But now was one of those times when she knew she needed to lean on God a little more than usual. There was so much as stake, and if Linda made the wrong decision, their lives would certainly change, and Ella suspected it would not be for the better.
Please God, she prayed, help my family through these troubled times. Let Linda get her bank loan so that the store remains solvent and we don’t need a partner in the business or, even worse, to sell it.
Oh, if only Linda would let Ella help at the store. Not just on the few occasions when she worked there because Drusilla or Anna needed to go somewhere or wanted a day off. If she could assist Linda with managing the finances, balancing the books, and controlling the inventory, perhaps there would be no problems at the store. After all, her father had taught her so much about running the store. She knew—just knew!—that her father had intended to leave the business to her. But no one, especially her father, had thought that he would die at such a young age. Without a will, or even a letter expressing his wishes, everything automatically transferred to his wife, and that, unfortunately, was Linda.
Her stepmother could do what she wanted with the business, and that was the root of the problem.
To begin with, Ella could not understand why the business was in trouble. Her father hadn’t left the business in the negative. In fact, her father had always managed to balance the books and had never once needed to seek out a loan from the bank. The people of Echo Creek always frequented the store and purchased all of their goods from him. Now sales were down, inventory was a mess, and things were clearly not financially stable.
What on earth was Linda doing?
Even more concerning to Ella was that the problems at Troyers’ General Store might impact the town. How many people living in Echo Creek depended on the store to purchase their goods? Where would the Amish shop if the store was shut down? Certainly not in Liberty Falls, for that was too far away for most people to shop there on a regular basis. And yet there were grumbles among the Amish community regarding the excessive prices Linda charged on some goods. Still, the people of Echo Creek had few, if any, options.
Ella knew that her father would be most unhappy with the way that Linda was managing—or mismanaging—the store. And that broke her heart.
She shut her eyes and began to sing one of her favorite hymns.
When she had finished the song, she exhaled. How difficult life could be! Sighing, she saw a stone in the dirt and dug at it with her fingers. Once she freed it, she threw it into the pond, sending ripples through the glassy surface.
“That was a good strong throw!”
Startled, Ella turned in the direction of the voice. A man was standing thirty feet behind her. He was leaning against a tree, his dark hair swooping over his forehead. His straw hat, which looked brand-new, cast a shadow across his face. He was definitely Amish—his clothes told her that much.
Clearing his throat, he took a step forward, giving her a broad smile as he removed his hat. “Bet you played a lot of baseball when you were at school, ja? Probably the first one picked when the teams were sorted.”
He looked familiar but she couldn’t place him. She eyed him suspiciously. “I’m not so certain about that.”
“Surely you remember?” His blue eyes twinkled at her. “You can’t be so old that you’d forget.”
And that was when s
he recognized him. He had been the young man seated in the back of the barn during the worship service just last Sunday. Despite his rather rapid disappearance after the service had ended, there was something about the stranger that did not frighten Ella. His face was open and jovial, with a sparkle of mischief in his expression, but nothing that spoke of harm.
Even though she was usually shy around strangers, Ella felt unthreatened, and his teasing tone put her at ease. “Ja, vell, memory is the first thing to go with old age,” she quipped back.
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, ja? I thought it was eyesight.” He paused, glancing toward the sky as if trying to remember something. “Or mayhaps it’s hearing?”
“I’m sorry. What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
The man laughed at her joke. With those pretty blue eyes and a broad white smile, the man definitely was not intimidating. Ella didn’t even mind when he knelt down beside her. His eyes appeared to scan the surface of the pond, which had already returned to mirror smoothness.
“I recognized you from worship the other week,” he said in a soft voice. “Or rather, I recognized your voice as I was passing by.”
She gave a nervous laugh. “Out of two hundred people? You recognized my voice?”
He turned his head and gave her a long look. His eyes flickered back and forth as if he was studying her face. “Kind of hard not to recognize the prettiest voice in the congregation.”
“Oh!” The word came out as a breathless whisper. She wasn’t even certain how to respond to such praise.
The young man chuckled and looked back at the pond. In the trees, the birds called out to one another, one swooping down to fly across the surface before disappearing into a tree on the other side. Nearby, a frog jumped from a rock into the water, its splash sending a small ripple across the otherwise glassy surface.
“Sure is a pretty spot,” he said, breaking the silence at last. “You come here often?”
Ella sighed. “Nee.” If it were up to her, she’d be at the pond every day. “Not as often as I’d like, anyway.”
He returned his gaze to her. “And why’s that, little water nymph?”
Water nymph? She tried to hide her smile. No one had ever called her such a pretty name. “One must always finish one’s work before it is time to play, ja?”
He nodded his head and fixed his eyes on the surface of the water. “That’s wise advice there . . . ?” He dragged out the last word as if waiting for her to fill in the blank with her name.
Embarrassed—where were her manners?—she quickly introduced herself. “Ella.”
“Ella.” He said her name as if he savored each syllable. “Seeing that you’re so old you can’t remember whether or not you were a baseball star at school,” he said, a light tone to his voice, “it’s no wonder you have such sage advice stored up in that aging brain of yours.”
This time, she couldn’t hold back her delight at his teasing banter. “With age comes wisdom . . . if we can only remember what it is.”
He laughed.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” Ella asked. She already knew the answer, for she knew all of the people who lived in Echo Creek.
He shook his head. “Nope. If I were, you’d surely recognize me from church and youth singings.”
She waited, wondering if he was going to introduce himself. He didn’t. When the silence between them began to grow uncomfortable, Ella leaned forward and started to get up. “I’d best get going. Too much idleness on anyone’s hands surely opens a door for sin.”
He stood up and reached out his hand to assist her. Ella glanced at him as she stood without any assistance.
“You headed back to Echo Creek?” he asked as he slid his hat onto his head. The brim shielded his eyes, and Ella couldn’t quite see where he was looking.
She nodded, wondering how he knew she was from Echo Creek. “I am.”
“Mayhaps you’d show me the way. I have an appointment in town.”
She wanted to ask him about his appointment. There were only a few stores in Echo Creek, and strangers didn’t happen by the town too often. She imagined he must be visiting with the leather maker, perhaps to purchase a new harness for his horse. And yet, as they walked up the path toward the main road, she saw neither a horse nor a buggy nearby.
The road toward town took them past the Beilers’ farm. No one was outside, although Melvin’s new buggy was parked in the driveway.
“You’re from Echo Creek.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement.
Ella glanced at him. “Ja, I am. Where’re you from?”
He walked with his hands behind his back and kept a respectful distance from her. But he glanced at her whenever he spoke to her. “Blue Springs.”
She frowned. She had never heard of Blue Springs before. “Where’s that?”
“About thirty miles south of here. Just outside of Liberty Falls. Pretty little town with old white farmhouses and rolling fields. Most everyone there’s a farmer, which makes for a nice, quiet community.”
“Amish?”
He laughed and gestured toward his clothing. “Ja, of course.”
She blushed. How silly she must have sounded, asking whether or not he was Amish. From his plain black pants to his straw hat, he was the picture-perfect Amish man. The only thing missing was the mustache-less beard that was worn by the married men.
“And I reckon you, too, are”—he paused—“Mennonite?”
His teasing made her smile. “Ja, Mennonite,” she said lightly. “Because Echo Creek has such a big Mennonite community.”
For a moment, he looked as if he believed her. “Truly?”
“No!” She laughed, feeling a bit of freedom in doing so. It wasn’t often that she was given the opportunity to joke with anyone, and she certainly did not laugh very often. “Not one bit.”
“Ah. I see.” He gave her a sidewise glance. “So you’re . . . Amish?”
Ella laughed, especially when she saw the playful twinkle in his eyes. “Echo Creek’s almost all Amish folk. Mostly elderly people live in the town center, and the Amish farmers live on the outskirts.”
“Sounds like Blue Springs.”
“I can assure you it’s not always nice or quiet,” she quipped, using the words he had just spoken to describe his hometown.
Why, just a few weeks before, the town had been in an uproar over the very unexpected wedding of Ella’s friend, Belle, to the reclusive Adam Hershberger. But Ella knew better than to say such a thing. Gossiping about others was sinful and something she tried to avoid, even if her stepmother and her daughters did not.
“There’s something to be said for a community that isn’t always a hundred percent quiet.” He glanced at her. “Too much quiet would make it rather dull, don’t you think?”
“Mayhaps. But it sure would be interesting if it was a hundred percent nice, ja?”
There was a wise look on his face. He tilted his head as if pondering what she had said. She liked that. No one paid much attention to anything she said. Not at home, anyway. And she had little reason to interact with many people other than family, except during the fellowship hour after worship or whenever she worked the front counter at the store.
“Well, Jesus came for the sinners now, didn’t he?” The young man from Blue Springs made a whimsical face. “And I reckon it’s just too hard for everyone to be nice all of the time.”
She couldn’t stop herself from smiling at the truth of his statement. While Ella always remembered her mother’s last words of advice, she knew that, try as she might, she, too, was a sinner and wasn’t always a hundred percent kind—or good, for that matter. Just that past Saturday she had goaded Drusilla and had prayed for forgiveness from God.
“So if Blue Springs is a quiet little farming community,” Ella said, “then what brings you to Echo Creek?”
“Ah.” He leaned over and, with a finger to his lips, whispered, “It’s a secret.”
Ella feigned a look of grave
seriousness. “In that case, you’d best not be telling me, or anyone else, your business. Otherwise it won’t be a secret any longer.”
“Quite true. The best way for people to keep a secret is if they don’t know it.”
The dirt path ended, and they were on the main road. Ella stopped walking and glanced both ways to see if anyone was coming. “This is the main road to town.” She pointed to the left. “Walk about a quarter mile or so, past those three houses, and you’ll be in the center of town.” While facing him, she took a few steps backward. Her house was the second house in the other direction, just after the unpaved lane that led away from town. “I wish you success in your business . . .” She paused. He had never properly introduced himself. “I’m sorry, I never did catch your name.”
He gave her a broad grin. “That’s because I didn’t tell you.”
“Is that part of your secret?” she asked.
He seemed delighted with her playful retort. “My daed calls me Hannes. So do my friends.” He narrowed her eyes and studied her for a long, drawn-out moment. “I reckon I’ll put you in that category so you can call me Hannes, too.”
She smiled at his playful comment. “Hannes?” What a strange name, she thought. “Well, one can never have too many friends. Have a great day, Hannes.” She wondered if he was the new vendor her stepsisters had mentioned, the one who made and distributed clocks. The one they had sent away and told to return another day because of the situation with the IRS. If so, Ella felt sorry for him, because she knew that Linda was still in a tizzy trying to figure out what, exactly, she was to do about the fifty thousand dollars owed to the government.
Ella turned around and continued walking down the road, sensing that Hannes had not yet started walking toward town. She suspected that he was watching her, and for that reason, she continued walking past her house, feeling intrigued by the stranger but not confident enough for him to know where she lived. It wasn’t until she reached a safe distance that she turned around. Seeing that he was long gone, she retraced her steps until she reached the safety of her home, still puzzling over the strange yet lively encounter with that handsome outsider who had happened upon her at the small pond outside of Echo Creek.