by Sarah Price
“Mayhaps a new client?” Mary Ann suggested.
Regardless of who it was, Eleanor began to bustle about the kitchen, picking up their sewing items and putting them back into the basket they used for storage. She swept up the scraps of fabric from the table and laid them on top of the basket. “Best tidy up, Maem,” she said over her shoulder. “And Mary Ann, be careful taking off the dress so that you don’t get stuck by the pins, ja?”
As Mary Ann hurried to the bedroom to slip off the dress, Eleanor picked up the last few items that remained on the counter. A quick glance of the room gave her satisfaction. Whoever had just arrived would not find their small cottage in disarray.
“Oh, help!” Maem whispered.
“What is it?” Eleanor joined her at the window, but before she could look out, her mother turned around and blocked her path.
“Eleanor,” she said with a pale face that was drained of all color as she placed her trembling hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “I want you to take a deep breath.”
“Who’s out there, Maem?” For a moment she worried that it was Willis. How would his presence impact Mary Ann, who seemed to float on air as she prepared for her wedding to Christian Bechtler? She panicked and worried how she could protect her sister.
“It’s Edwin Fisher,” Maem whispered.
“Edwin!” Nothing could have shocked Eleanor more than hearing that just outside her door was Edwin Fisher. Eleanor had not shared the contents of the letter she had mailed the previous week to Edwin at the request of her soon-to-be brother-in-law. While Edwin’s appearance at the cottage surprised her, she immediately put the pieces together. Surely he was visiting with Christian, perhaps touring the farm before committing to manage it. As good manners dictated, he would stop in to visit with them along the way. While his timing most likely appeared cold and insensitive to her mother, Eleanor knew otherwise.
“Perhaps it’s not so strange,” Eleanor said calmly.
Maem didn’t have time to answer, for Mary Ann rejoined them at the same moment a knock sounded against their front door.
“I’ll get it,” Mary Ann said, and before Maem could stop her, she walked to the door. When she opened it, her surprise at seeing Edwin there was more than apparent.
“Edwin Fisher! Oh!”
Eleanor felt the color drain from her face. Just hearing his name made her heart palpitate and her breath catch in her throat. If writing the letter had been hard, knowing that Edwin Fisher was walking toward their front door was even more painful. For a moment she wondered if she would have the strength to face him. But did she really have a choice? She raised her head and stared at the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of him before he saw her. But Mary Ann blocked her view.
Mary Ann looked over her shoulder at her sister, surprise still written on her face. “Eleanor! Edwin’s come to visit!” Returning her attention to Edwin, Mary Ann swung the door open wider. “Come in, come in,” she cried out. But as he stepped through the door, his tall, willowy frame filling the room, Mary Ann’s initial expression of joy at seeing him changed. Eleanor suspected that her sister quickly understood that Edwin’s visit was rather unusual. Hadn’t Edwin recently married Lydia?
“I’m . . . I’m sure we are all rather surprised to see you here,” Mary Ann managed to say.
He removed his straw hat and held it by his side rather than hang it on a peg by the door. His hands seemed to fiddle with it, playing with the brim as he held on to it. First he smiled at Mary Ann and then at Maem. When he finally met Eleanor’s gaze, he seemed even more nervous than before. “Apparently you should get used to seeing me in the area,” he said as pleasantly as he could. “I’m to take over the management of your preacher’s farm.”
Mary Ann gasped. “Our preacher’s farm? You mean Christian Bechtler?”
Eleanor wondered why Christian would have kept this secret from his fiancée. If Edwin and his wife were to move onto the farm, Mary Ann would have to interact with them on an almost daily basis. Hearing from Edwin directly was probably not the best way for Mary Ann to have learned about the newly married Fishers living on Christian’s property.
Nonplussed by her unawareness of his moving onto the farm, Edwin nodded his head. “Indeed. And I understand that, next Tuesday, you are to marry the one and the same? Congratulations to both of you.”
Uncertain what to say, besides a soft “danke,” Mary Ann lowered her eyes, averting her gaze from his face. Eleanor could see the mixture of confusion and disgust in her sister’s expression, especially when he expressed his best wishes to her on her upcoming nuptials.
It was Maem who finally managed to offer him the same consideration. “And we offer you our congratulations as well.” She seemed nervous, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “We . . . we were sorry to miss the wedding.”
“I am sorry, too,” he replied, now focused on Eleanor. “It was a fine day and the food was plentiful. The guests stayed until late in the evening. I was quite tired in the morning when I had to get up for chores.”
Inwardly Eleanor cringed at his words. She didn’t want to think about Edwin’s wedding day, wedding night, or the morning thereafter. She could almost see Lydia in a white nightgown, still sleeping under the blankets when Edwin had to arise to help with the early morning chores. It took very little to imagine that Lydia slept while Edwin worked, but it was a vision that Eleanor did not even want to think about. She looked away, staring at a stray piece of yarn on the floor beneath a chair.
“And . . . and how is Lydia?” Maem asked, more from politeness than curiosity.
Edwin tore his eyes from Eleanor and looked at her mother. “Lydia? Ja, vell, I imagine she is doing quite fine.”
Another moment of silence fell over them. The awkwardness of his unexpected visit created a rising tension among the Detweilers, especially with Eleanor being the only one who understood the reason for his standing before them in their cottage: her letter, and how it had paved the way for his place on Christian’s farm. Certainly he had come calling on them since they were now to be neighbors. Regardless of the past relationship (or lack thereof!) Eleanor needed to get used to Edwin and Lydia living in their g’may. They all would need to get used to that idea.
“We shall look forward to having the both of you in the church district,” Maem managed to say in a very sincere voice. She glanced at Eleanor before she added, “We were quite fond of Lydia when she visited.”
At this statement Edwin frowned and followed Maem’s eyes, looking first at Eleanor before he returned his eyes to Maem as he repeated, “Both of us?”
Mary Ann had finally recovered from her shock at seeing him. “Ja, you and Lydia,” she said pointedly.
He blinked his eyes and stared at the three women. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “How very awkward,” he mumbled. He took a few steps, pacing for just a brief second before the women. “I . . . I thought you would have heard the news by now. Lydia will be living at the family farm in Narvon,” he said. When none of them spoke, he added, “With her husband.” Another pause met with silence. “My brother.” When they continued to stare at him, their mouths now open in amazement, he seemed to realize they had not heard the news, so he explained in more detail. “I presume you are referring to my brother, Roy, who married Lydia last month.”
Mary Ann covered her mouth with her hand. “Roy and Lydia?” she asked in disbelief. “Roy married Lydia? But we heard that . . . ”
Her mother nudged Mary Ann with her foot to prevent any more words from escaping her mouth.
Edwin shook his head, a sheepish expression on his face. “I can only imagine what you have heard. But it appears that Lydia fancied the family farm more than the son that came with it.”
It took a moment for Eleanor to digest the news that Edwin had just shared with them. As it dawned on her, something collapsed within Eleanor. She gasped when she heard his words, and she repeated them in her head, worried for just a moment that perha
ps she had misheard him. If Lydia married his brother, that meant that Edwin stood before them as an unmarried man. Eleanor stared at him, her eyes fully open and the color drained from her face.
“Do you mean that you are not . . . ” Eleanor couldn’t finish the sentence; the words seemed stuck in her throat.
“Married?” He finished it for her. “Ah, I see. That is what you thought.” He looked down at the floor and shook his head. “Nee, I am afraid not.” His eyes flickered to Eleanor once more. “At least, it seems, not yet. But I do hope to change that.”
Both Mary Ann and Maem’s eyes widened as Eleanor’s legs gave out from beneath her and she fell into a nearby chair, turning her body away from all of them as her shoulders began to shake. She covered her face with her hands and began to cry, sobs wracking her back. The pent-up emotions and long-fought disappointments poured out as she wept uncontrollably.
“Come, Mary Ann,” Maem said, motioning toward the door. “We should leave them to talk, ja?”
Quietly they stole out of the room, leaving Edwin alone with Eleanor. Beside herself, she continued to sob into her hands, her tears spilling through her fingers. Whether she felt joy or pain, anger or release she could not say. So much of what she had felt, would feel, and was about to feel being so intermingled. Words could not express the release of emotions, regardless of the outcome. It was almost as if she had been holding her breath, living one day at a time in order to deny her feelings and pretend that everything was all right despite the complete loss of hope. But when Edwin said that they had all been mistaken and he was not married, the floodgates opened on her emotions. Simply put, she could not hold back for one second longer.
With a brief hesitation Edwin stepped forward toward her. He reached into his front pocket and withdrew a white handkerchief. With trembling hands, he tried to hand it to her. But only after he nudged her shoulder did she accept it.
“Eleanor,” he said softly. “I’m . . . I’m terribly sorry for giving you such a shock.” He knelt before her, setting his hat on the floor by his feet. With both hands free he reached out to gently touch her wrists. “I had expected that the Amish grapevine would break the news to you before I did.”
“But . . . how? Why?” Eleanor cried as he pulled her hands away from her face.
“I believe that my losing the family farm was the catalyst for Lydia’s decision to pursue my bruder,” Edwin said, shifting his weight as he knelt by her knees and kept ahold of her clasped hands. “Apparently Roy had formed an attachment with her while I was away working your bruder’s farm.” He reached for the handkerchief and gently dabbed at the tears that stained her cheeks. “With no more sons to leave the farm to, my parents had no choice but to accept her once they married.”
Eleanor continued to cry.
“Here, Eleanor,” he said, once again placing his handkerchief into her hands.
She took it as she stood up and tried to move away from him. Her mind had a difficult time understanding what Edwin was telling her. With all that Lydia had said to her and the way she had shared her secret relationship with Edwin, Eleanor found it hard to believe that Lydia was now the wife of Roy Fisher!
“Now, I want to explain something to you,” Edwin said, his voice soft and full of emotion. “While you must think me the worst of men, I need to assure you that my intentions were honorable, Eleanor.” He reached out and, forcing her to turn around and face him, took her hands into his once again. “I made that promise to Lydia several years ago, before either of us knew better, and certainly before either of us was ready to marry. It happened so long ago and during our early rumschpringe days. I had given her a ride home from a singing, and suddenly she mentioned getting married when we were older. Perhaps it was the idea or just the novelty of the situation, but I said that sounded like a right gut idea. To be perfectly honest, Eleanor, I forgot about it.”
Eleanor frowned. “You forget that you were engaged?”
“It was nothing more than a farce, child’s play by two excited youths during our early days of rumschpringe, an excuse to hold hands in the buggy.” He raised his hand to his forehead and rubbed his temples with his thumb and fingers. “Just before I left Narvon to help your bruder John, I ran into Lydia during the fellowship hour after worship. She was visiting her aendi, that Charlotte Peachey character. It seems Lydia had not forgotten, and she was quick to remind me of it. At first I thought she was teasing me about that promise. But when she sent me a letter while I was at your family farm, I realized she was serious. She claimed she had waited all those years for me to honor my promise.”
“That’s . . . that’s horrible, Edwin,” Eleanor managed to say. She couldn’t imagine the cruelty of anyone, never mind a woman, preying on a man who held his personal integrity far higher than lifelong happiness.
He nodded his head. The dark circles under his eyes spoke of many sleepless nights. Eleanor could picture him in her mind, pacing the floor and worrying about how to honor a promise made in a thoughtless moment of youthful high spirits. “Short of going back on my word, I had no choice. I . . . I tried to tell you. I even came here with the intention of telling you, but I simply could not. I had no choice, Eleanor, unless I wanted to embarrass her by telling the bishop and her family of her deception.”
“You would have sacrificed your own well-being, Edwin, to honor a promise made in a moment of frivolity? To keep Lydia from feeling humiliation?”
Edwin exhaled. “I cannot explain the torment I felt, Eleanor. My heartache over the situation was stronger than anything I could explain to you of all people, most of all because I knew that my actions would hurt you.”
Another tear fell from her eye, and he reached up to wipe it away.
“But I have been freed from that promise. I have a choice now.” He stared up at her, his eyes studying every feature of her tearstained face. “And I am here to tell you that my choice has been, and will always be, you, Eleanor Detweiler.”
Another sob escaped her throat, and she covered her mouth once again.
He raised his hand and took hers away from her face. Forcing her to look at him, he stared deep into her eyes. “I am going to manage Christian Bechtler’s farm, and there is no one I would rather have beside me than you, Eleanor. That is, of course, if you will have me as your husband. I would like to marry you, and I make that declaration with full awareness and maturity and with every intention and desire of fulfilling it.”
She tried to laugh at such a proposal and tried to cover her face so he couldn’t see her blotchy cheeks. But he refused to release her hands, smiling at her as he waited for her answer.
“Is that a yes, then?” he asked.
She couldn’t speak, so she merely nodded her head and let him pull her into his arms. He embraced her as tightly as he could, holding her against his chest and whispering a soothing noise in her ear. But it didn’t help. Her tears continued, but this time not from shock. Instead, she cried from the joy of knowing that after weeks of pain and turmoil, of long days of enduring suffering and heartache, God’s plan had played out exactly as He intended.
Epilogue
THE FRESH BLANKET of snow covered the field in front of the farmhouse, making the landscape bright and pristine. Closer to the road the bare tree limbs looked as if God had painted the top part of them with a broad brushstroke of white. The clouds were beginning to break up and patches of blue broke through them, a golden beam of light stretching from the sky to the earth like a celestial staircase to the heavens.
Standing on the wraparound porch of the house, a heavy black wool shawl pulled around her shoulders to keep her warm, Eleanor gazed out into the field. Her eyes took in the sight of what she envisioned would be their home for the next twenty or more years. They had moved into the farmhouse shortly after the new year when the tenants had finished moving out their things and begun the long journey to Colorado.
It was a pretty house with a warm, open floor plan. The kitchen and gathering room took up most of
the space on the first floor, although there was a master bedroom under the staircase. The upstairs had four bedrooms, all of them empty until they began to expand their family. With its two full bathrooms and a large mudroom, Eleanor could not have asked for a better home to start a family.
She smiled when she caught sight of Edwin walking along the fence line, a brown knit cap covering his head so he didn’t catch cold from the air that blew from the north. His heavy boots left a small trail in the snow, which was barely visible from where she stood. A few black-and-white cows wandered nearby, most likely wanting to head back to the small stable for the evening milking and feeding. But Edwin paid them no attention as he checked the fence along the border of the property for any breaks or weaknesses.
“Eleanor?”
At the sound of her name, she turned around and greeted her sister. “How are you feeling, Mary Ann? You shouldn’t be out here. And with no coat!”
Her sister smiled and placed her hand on her protruding stomach. “The doctor recommended plenty of fresh air and outside walking. Besides, I never did hear that unborn bopplis could catch colds now, did you?”
Eleanor gave a soft laugh and opened up the black wool shawl to pull her sister inside. Once they were both wrapped together, she reached down and touched Mary Ann’s belly. “Twins. Who would have thought?”
“I don’t know who was more surprised,” Mary Ann said, “me or Christian.”
“Christian,” Eleanor said without any hesitation. “Although the word might be shocked, not surprised.”
While Mary Ann had known that she was pregnant for only six weeks, it was the previous week that they learned that she was carrying twins. She had horrific morning sickness that lasted all day and well into the evening. Out of concern for his wife as well as their baby, Christian insisted that she see a doctor. That was when the doctor shared the news that she carried not one but two babies. The news delighted both of them, while causing a few wagging tongues to cease their speculation about the rapid growth of her stomach.