Ella: An Amish Retelling 0f Cinderella (An Amish Fairytale Book 2)

by Sarah Price

  Kneeling by the pumpkin vine, Ella began plucking the weeds and pinching back the leaves on the vine. Underneath the green growth, her fingers touched a large pumpkin, and she paused to look at it.

  It was round and orange, which surprised her. It was far too early for the pumpkins to be ripe, but this one was, indeed, ready to be plucked.

  When she finished with the garden, Ella carried the pumpkin to the porch and set it near the steps. She still needed to finish her barn chores: feeding and watering the animals before milking the dairy cows. Fortunately, since the cows and horse had been outside for most of the day, the stalls did not require cleaning, and to Ella’s delight, she was back inside the house before an hour had passed.

  To her amazement, Miriam stood at the sink, washing dishes. The kitchen sparkled, and there were neatly folded dresses on the kitchen table.

  “My word, Miriam!” Ella hurried over to the table and pressed her hand on top of the pile of clothes. “You weren’t teasing about being an amazing seamstress!”

  Turning off the faucet and then shaking the excess water from her hands, Miriam exhaled. “You already had the patterns cut, Ella. With wider stitches, it wasn’t that time-consuming,” she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel, “as you can see.”

  Ella unfolded the first dress and held it up so that she could look at it. The bright blue fabric with tiny dark navy stripes, barely noticeable to the eye, was expertly sewn in such a manner that even Ella could not tell that Miriam had used wider stitches. She draped the dress over her arm and had started to reach for the second dress, which was similar, but in green, when she noticed a third dress.

  “Miriam, what is this?” Picking up the pink dress at the bottom, Ella looked at the elderly woman.

  “That? Oh, that’s nothing.” But Miriam smiled in a mischievous way.

  It didn’t look like “nothing.” In fact, it appeared to be a third new dress. And the material was twice as beautiful as the blue and green fabrics used to make Drusilla and Anna’s dresses. The brightness of the pink contrasted with a faint shimmering color, just barely visible to the eye. As Ella tilted her head, the colors changed in the light, just a little, giving it an almost iridescent look.

  Surely the bishop would not approve of such material!

  “Where did this come from?” Ella asked.

  Miriam shrugged. “Just a little something I made.”

  “For . . . ?”

  The older woman leaned against the counter. “For you, Ella. I made it for you.”

  For a moment, Ella didn’t know how to respond. No one had ever made anything for her. That wasn’t the way of the Amish. Gift giving was only on special occasions and was usually just something small—a token gift, perhaps, on special birthdays. When young girls turned sixteen, they might receive a new cookbook or devotional, but never something as grand as this.

  “But why?” she asked at last.

  Miriam pushed away from the counter and walked over to where Ella stood. She placed her hands on Ella’s shoulders and, with a smile on her lips, stared into her eyes. “Now, Ella, there are some questions that cannot be answered so easily. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  With those words, Miriam took the dress from her and placed it back into the basket. After covering it with a cloth, Miriam handed it to her. “You’d best set that aside somewhere so that no one sees it. I reckon Drusilla and Anna won’t take kindly to being outshone by their stepsister.” She paused before adding a soft, “Again.”

  It dawned on Ella that Miriam had made that special trip just to give her the dress. Miriam had actually made it for her before coming to visit.

  The clock on the wall chimed, and Miriam glanced at it. “Oh help! It’s almost four thirty. I’d best get going now, ja? Have to feed my own brood before we meet at the schoolhouse for the charity auction.” She gave Ella a brief hug—another unexpected surprise!—before she headed toward the door.

  “I’ll be anxious to see who you sit with after the auction,” she said with a wink. “I’m sure there’s one very lucky young man who will be enjoying the most delicious pie in Echo Creek tonight.”

  As Miriam disappeared outside, Ella stood transfixed in the middle of the kitchen. Something tightened inside of her chest. Not since her mother had passed away had anyone done something so kind for her. While her father had always tried, Linda had somehow managed to turn things around so that her daughters, not Ella, benefited. And Ella’s father was never one to engage in conflict, especially with a woman.

  Finally, someone had taken an interest in Ella and her needs. That realization struck her like a thunderbolt, and Ella found herself fighting the urge to shed tears of joy. What had she done to deserve such an amazing angel in her life?

  Chapter Twenty

  “And where, exactly, do you think you are going, Ella?”

  She had just hurried down the stairs, having heard Drusilla and Anna chattering happily in the kitchen. The new dresses that Ella had made for them were the main topic of conversation. Linda had been standing near the door appraising her daughters when Ella had joined them.

  And at that moment, the room had fallen silent.

  If Drusilla and Anna had been excited by their new dresses, one look at Ella had robbed them of any joy.

  For she, too, wore a new dress—the very one that Miriam had made for her.

  “Maem!” Drusilla cried out.

  Anna pointed furiously at her stepsister. “Where did you get that dress?”

  Even Linda looked stunned. “Indeed, Ella, where did you get that dress?” She stepped over to Ella and touched the skirt that hung to her stepdaughter’s mid-calves.

  Ella bit her lower lip. Perhaps wearing Miriam’s dress was a mistake after all. For the past half hour, Ella had contemplated whether or not she should wear something so beautiful. But after listening to Drusilla and Anna giggling and laughing from the other bedroom, Ella had taken one final look in the mirror and told herself that, for once, she, too, deserved something special. With a new sense of determination, she had donned the dress and made her way downstairs.

  Now, however, she knew she had made a mistake.

  “It . . . it was a gift,” Ella responded at last.

  Linda frowned. “A gift? From whom?”

  Ella’s gaze darted from Linda to the two girls standing behind her, their eyes clearly coveting the dress. The envy in their facial expressions stunned Ella. Never had she seen anyone so desirous of a material object! At that moment, Ella realized why the church leaders spoke so vehemently against worldliness. When people had nice things, others did not share in their joy. Instead, they longed to possess those items. Such longing was nothing short of sinful.

  “I asked you a question, Ella.” Linda’s loud voice broke Ella’s concentration. “Who gifted you that dress?”

  If Ella told Linda, Miriam would get in trouble. Yet Ella also knew that she couldn’t lie. “I . . . I do not want to answer that,” she finally said.

  Linda inhaled sharply. “Very well, Ella.”

  Behind her, both Drusilla and Anna started to speak. Linda, however, merely held up her hand to silence them. “It doesn’t matter, for I daresay you cannot wear that dress. Surely the bishop would not approve.”

  “But . . .”

  “No buts. As the head of this household, my word is the final word. Besides, where, exactly, do you think you are going?”

  Ella felt her heart begin to pound. With the three of them staring at her, she could hardly think of how to respond. Surely they knew the answer, so why were they asking the question? “The . . . the charity auction.”

  There was a long moment of silence—a silence that was deafening. Ella waited, holding her breath in the hope that Linda would respond positively. Did her stepmother truly think that she would miss the event? Everyone in the community planned on attending!

  At last, Linda broke her gaze and stared down at her own dark purple dress. She leaned over and brushed some imaginary dir
t from her black apron. “I’m afraid not, Ella.”

  Ella could hardly believe she’d heard her stepmother properly. “Afraid not what?”

  “Afraid you will not attend the event.”

  Drusilla and Anna snickered, their envy turning to vengeful spite. Ella glanced at them, realizing that no matter how beautiful their dresses, their contemptuous smiles showed their true ugliness.

  Returning her attention to Linda, Ella took a deep breath. “And why not?”

  “Because,” Linda started in a slow, measured tone, “you did not complete your chores.” She lifted her head and stared directly into Ella’s face. “I told you that I needed the basement cleaned . . .”

  Immediately, Ella breathed a sigh of relief. She had cleaned the basement, just as her stepmother had insisted. Right after she had baked the bread that morning, she had set about the unpleasant chore. In fact, she had reorganized the shelves, scrubbed the floor, and even refilled the kerosene lanterns that hung from the thick wooden rafters. There was not one thing out of order.

  “Oh, Maem,” she said, relieved that her stepmother was, once again, incorrect. “I did finish cleaning the basement. Have you taken a look at it?”

  Linda raised an eyebrow. “Have you?”

  The expression on her stepmother’s face caught Ella off guard. It was almost as if Linda was savoring a secret—knowledge of something sinister that, not surprisingly, delighted her.

  And Ella had a sinking suspicion of what it was.

  The silence in the kitchen hung heavy between them. Without saying a word, Ella crossed the floor and opened the basement door. The stairwell was dark. Reaching inside for a flashlight, she clicked it on. One sweep of the brilliant beam showed Ella exactly why Linda appeared so smug: the basement was a mess.

  Turning around, Ella turned toward her stepmother and, with tears in her eyes, whispered, “Why?”

  Just one word, but it asked so many questions. Why did her stepmother dislike her so much? Why had Linda done such a thing? Why didn’t she want Ella to go to the charity auction?

  But Linda did not respond. She merely took the flashlight and pointed toward the open doorway. “Finish your chores!” she snapped. “And forget about going tonight.”

  There was no sense arguing with her. Ella pressed her lips together and started down the staircase. Tears stung at her eyes, but she tried her best to resist outright crying. She would not give them the satisfaction of realizing how much her heart hurt.

  At the bottom of the steps, Ella paused and assessed the damage. Someone had knocked over the bin of flour and, from the looks of it, thrown handfuls of it all over the room. Everything was coated in a fine white dust: the shelves, the jars, even the walls. Nothing had escaped the flour. It would take hours to clean it.

  Oh! She fought the sob that threatened to escape her throat. Why on earth would Linda have done this?

  From the top of the stairwell, the basement door shut. Footsteps on the overhead floor made it clear that Linda had stormed outside, not taking a moment to gloat over her victory. Drusilla and Anna, however, could be heard giggling to each other, and after a moment, Ella heard the distinct sound of a clicking noise.

  Had one of them just locked the basement door?

  She managed to find her way up the stairs, and she reached out to turn the knob. Her efforts were met with resistance, and she knew that, indeed, she was locked in.

  In all of the years that Linda and her stepdaughters had been a part of Ella’s life, there had been far too many incidents of unfairness toward her. But never had they behaved so maliciously as they had tonight. Ella knew that she would have to pray very hard in order to find a way to forgive them.

  Ella wiped a final tear from her eye.

  What’s done is done, she told herself, trying to have faith that she was strong enough to deal with this terrible turn of events.

  Still smarting and feeling aggrieved, Ella forced herself to descend once again to the bottom of the staircase. In the darkness, she felt her way along the wall to the place where she knew the kerosene lantern hung overhead. Nearby was a metal box of matches hanging on the wall. She pulled one out, and after hitting the strike pad, she carefully lit the lantern.

  Grabbing a broom, she began to sweep up the flour. If only they hadn’t locked the basement door, perhaps Ella could still have made it to the charity event. Although the beautiful dress Miriam had given her was now covered in flour, Ella knew that she could always change into her Sunday dress. But if she showed up, Linda would see her, and if she was so ungodly as to have sabotaged Ella’s hard work, what might she do if Ella openly defied her?

  And that thought led to another demanding question.

  How am I supposed to forgive this? Ella wondered. Is it even possible?

  For as long as Linda and her two daughters had been a part of the Troyer family, Ella had known that she held no favor with them. However, she was shocked by this blatant expression of what she could only consider to be loathing. What had she done to deserve such terrible treatment? For her entire life, Ella had tried to follow her mother’s advice to be good and kind. Now, however, Ella wondered if her mother would still want her to follow that advice after she’d been treated so badly by her stepmother.

  From the other side of the basement, Ella heard the sound of scurrying. She started at the noise, but upon turning, saw that it was only a small mouse. Ella managed to smile, and lifting the lantern, she walked toward the back of the basement. In the corner, she saw a small gray mouse cowering, as if afraid of the light.

  “Oh, come now,” Ella cooed. “I’m the one who always saves you! Remember me? You’ve nothing to fear from me, little one.”

  The mouse gave a squeak and jumped in the air, spinning as it did so. Then it scurried along the wall and into the shadows. Ella followed it, her lantern held high. But the mouse had disappeared. There was only a stack of boxes there, but the mouse did not come out the other side.

  “Where’d you go?” Ella asked into the darkness.

  Curiosity got the best of her, and after setting the lantern down on the floor, careful to keep it a safe distance away from the boxes, she began to push them aside. There were no signs of the mouse; however, the flame from the lantern flickered ever so slightly.

  Ella retrieved it and stared at the flame. The closer she brought it to the place where the boxes had been, the more the flame danced.

  A breeze. There was a breeze in the basement.

  Ella frowned. She lifted the lantern and held it closer to the wall. To her amazement, she noticed a small hole on the floor, which had been hidden by the boxes. Certainly the mouse had scurried in there. But what was more interesting to Ella was that it appeared the hole had been chewed into the bottom corner of a door . . . a door she had never seen before.

  “What on earth . . . ?” she muttered to herself. With her free hand, she felt along the wall, just barely able to make out the edge of the door. There was no doorknob, but she could feel the hinges. All she needed was something to pry it open.

  A feeling of fear flooded over her. A secret door in the basement? How many times had she been down here, not once noticing it? Of course, those boxes had been stacked there for years, and she hadn’t many reasons to walk this far back into the basement. But still. The thought of opening that door frightened her.

  Have faith.

  The two words popped into her head as if someone had whispered them to her. The voice seemed familiar, but Ella could not place it. Soft. Gentle. Kind. The voice was all of those things. And yet the voice was just imaginary, something in her own mind. Even so, it soothed her, and Ella felt more at ease.

  She looked around the basement until she found a metal pipe. Fitting it into the hole where the mouse had disappeared, Ella jiggled it enough so that the old door swung open. A burst of cool air hit her face, and she recoiled, for it was damp and musty. But when she held the lantern into the doorway, she caught her breath.

  There was a c
edar trunk inside, and judging by the carving on its top, it was a very special trunk, indeed. Ella started to move it, pulling it out of the secret room, when the light from the lantern illuminated something else that surprised her: stairs.

  “Oh help!” she whispered.

  There was a second entrance into the basement from the outside. How could she have never known about its existence? For a moment, she forgot about the trunk and focused on the stairs. At the top of the stairs was a flat door. A sliver of light filtered through the edge. Cautiously, Ella climbed the stairs and put her hand against the door. It took her three tries to shove it open. And when she poked out her head, she realized that she was under the front porch.

  Stunned, Ella stood there for a moment, half in the basement and half out. She’d have to crawl over the dirt and push aside some of the lattice in order to be free of the basement. But she could attend the charity event after all.

  With a new sense of determination, Ella made up her mind. She would not be held hostage in her own home, even if she was frightened of Linda’s reaction.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  By the time Ella made her way to the schoolhouse, almost an hour had passed. The sun was slowly sinking in the sky behind her, a blessing in itself, as it would hinder anyone from seeing her approach.

  The auction was being held outdoors, which, based upon the size of the crowd, was probably out of necessity, especially since the evening air was still warm. Seeing all of those people gathered, seated upon the pine benches usually reserved for worship, was surprising to Ella. With the exception of Sundays, weddings, and funerals, Ella couldn’t recall ever seeing the entire community—and far too many guests to count!—meeting together.

  And that was a good thing to see!

  Near the school entrance were several long tables covered in a variety of tablecloths: red and white checkered, green and yellow striped, and even a few floral ones. Displayed on top of them were pies and cakes and other baked goods. There were so many items that Ella wondered if everyone in the entire town must have contributed one, if not two, items for the auction.