Ella's Wish (35 page)

The bishop nodded his head vigorously. The sermon came to an end, and the preacher asked the bishop and two other men to give testimony. The men’s voices droned on, and then the final song was announced and sung.

Ella got up to help with serving by taking bowls of peanut butter to the women’s table. That was about all she could handle today. Thankfully no one directed her over to the men’s table.

Moments later the bishop announced the closing prayer for those eating, and the tables cleared out. Quickly the girls moved down the sides, washing the utensils and rinsing out the coffee cups. The tables began filling again. Ella waited, saw that there would be room, and slid onto the bench.

“So how are the Stutzman girls doing for you?” Aden’s mamm asked from across the table. “I heard you are taking care of them.”

“
Gut
,” Ella said, clutching the peanut butter sandwich in her hand. “They are little angels.” What would Aden’s mother say if she knew? Would it bother her to know that two men now wanted to take the place in her heart so long held by Aden?

“I can imagine they are,” Aden’s mamm said. “They can use a
gut
mamm again.”

“Oh, I just take care of them during the week,” she gasped, glancing at the sandwich as the peanut butter ran over the edge and dripped onto the tablecloth.
What a
dummkopf
I am
.

Ella wiped the peanut butter off the tablecloth. It could happen to anyone, but today it had to happen to her. She glanced up, but Aden’s mamm had turned to someone beside her and was now deep in conversation. Soon the bishop would announce prayer again, and she could get out of here. It wouldn’t be a moment too soon. Perhaps next Sunday her nerves would be more under control. Surely things had to get better.

“Now that we have eaten, let us pray,” the bishop said with a clear voice that carried all the way through the house.

Ella bowed her head and waited through the prayer. When it ended, she rose quickly and moved toward the front utility room to collect her bonnet and shawl. A few women nodded at her as she squeezed through the kitchen. She found her things and opened the utility room door. With her shawl wrapped tightly around her, she approached her buggy.
Now how am I going to get my horse from the barn? Will any of the younger boys offer, or should I just go myself?
The men sat on benches out under the big trees, but no one seemed to be looking in her direction.
I’ll go and get the horse myself. It is better that way
.

Just then the barn door opened, and the young bishop came out, leading her horse.
What is he up to? What might people think? Didn’t my words last night take hold?
She grabbed the buggy shafts and lifted them high.

“Good afternoon,” he said, swinging her horse in place.

“Good afternoon,” she said as cheerfully as she could.

“I can still be nice to you,” he said, pushing the tugs on, “with the hope you’ll reconsider.”

“I won’t reconsider,” she said, meeting his eyes as she climbed into the buggy.

He nodded and held the bridle until she was settled in, and then she slapped the horse lightly on the neck. Holding the reins tightly, Ella steered past the bishop.
He has some nerve, but that’s just the way he is
.

When the alarm clock shrieked its fury in the early morning darkness, Ella pushed the covers back and crawled out of bed. Although there had been no dream about the bishop last night, she slept fitfully. No doubt it was because today was the day she would tell Preacher Stutzman her answer.

That I will marry him? No. That is too much. Just that I will see him? Perhaps whenever he wishes? Something like that. After the bishop, Saturday nights don’t seem appropriate. Perhaps we could have an understanding between ourselves and maybe agree at first to something like little chats when we see each other while out and about. Maybe my heart will have time to make a decision if it’s not rushed
.

Ella dressed and went down the stairs, stepping outside to reach the basement. Already the late summer air had a brisk feel to it. She paused to look toward the sunrise. The sky had no color and held no clouds. Only the first rays of the sun’s white light burst over the horizon in bold streaks.

Where has the summer gone? One day follows another so quickly. Do the years do the same? Will marriage come that quickly? Will one
bobli
be born, only to be followed by another and another—mine and Stutzman’s children—until we are old and gray? Is that how it will be?

Will Aden be there on the day my eyes close and I cross over the river? Will Aden look the same? How will I speak with him after things have turned out so differently than we had planned? Surely he understands that the best must be made of things and that life does, indeed, go on
.

As for loving again, do I even dare after having loved so deeply?
Ella brushed back the hair from her face.
The faith expressly speaks that such a thing is allowed after a death separates a man and a woman. Perhaps I can learn to love again—with time and patience. Preacher Stutzman—no, I might as well call him Ivan now. Ivan might understand and be patient with me. I will simply have to see
.

With one last look at the sky, Ella walked down the steps, careful not to trip in the faint light. The girls would have had breakfast before they arrived.
Ivan is a
gut
father—there is no question about that. Surely he will be
gut
to me also
. She rubbed the goose bumps on her skin.

She struck a match, and after moving the kindling into place, the fire caught easily enough. Ella then lit the kerosene lamp. Its flickering light danced on the quilt and accented each thread, creating a quick flash here and there.

She drew in her breath. Da Hah
loves me. Signs of this are everywhere! I can see it in Ronda and Joe—my friends—living in the rooms above me, the quilt shop with new orders already, the matter with the bishop resolved, and the house itself. So easily everything could have failed, and I would have been forced to move back to Seager Hill. Yet failure was not my lot
.

Now there are three little girls who cast the light of joy in my life, and add to that their father. Can I love him? Perhaps a quiet settled love would have to suffice, and I can only hope for more. Is Ivan willing to wait with patience…even if the love never comes?

Ella heated the water for her oatmeal and stirred in the flakes when it boiled. She cut a slice of bread, spread it with butter and jam, and then dipped out a generous portion of oatmeal and poured it into the bowl. The milk splashed and almost spilled when she poured it on top of the oatmeal. She jerked the pitcher upright and stirred the oatmeal before adding more milk to the bowl. When it was just right, she prayed silently and then ate quickly. She heard the sound of the buggy wheels rattling in the driveway as she washed the dishes.

Ella took a deep breath, wiped her wet hands on her apron, and went up the basement steps. It was important to reach Ivan before he got close to the house.

“Good morning,” she said. He had his back turned to her as he lifted baby Barbara off the buggy seat.

“Good morning,” he said, turning and smiling weakly.

Noticing his hat askew, Ella almost laughed. Never in her wildest dreams had the image of her lover been like the man who now stood in front of her.
Da Hah
surely had a
gut
sense of humor.

“We have come back,” Mary said with a sleepy voice. “Daett gave us breakfast already.”

“I thought he would,” Ella said, reaching down and giving her a hug. “And, Sarah, how are you?”

Sarah said nothing even after Ella’s hug.

Ivan handed Ella the baby, nodded, and stood ready to climb back into the buggy. “The day is full for me, as usual. I hope you have a good week,” he said as he turned to leave.

Ella cleared her throat. “About your question—”

“Yah,” he said, looking back and pausing. His foot was already on the buggy step.

“I do not know the final answer yet or when I will know, but you are welcome to visit…if you still wish.”

“But the bishop,” he said, taking his foot off the buggy step.

Ella took a deep breath. “He’s not coming back.”

He turned to look fully at her. The sunshine caught the side of his face, lit up his beard, and made his eyes blaze with light, “Ach, Ella, this is too much for me.”

“Perhaps for me too, but not in the way you mean.”

“I understand,” he said softly. “I am not worthy even of this.”

She was surprised to see tears in his eyes. “You may come to visit,” she said. After a pause, she continued. “Let me say it another way. I would like it if you would come to visit. Perhaps we can get to know each other slowly…a little at a time if it suits you.”

He reached out and touched her hand. “Perhaps it would be best that way. More can come later perhaps—as
Da Hah
moves. I do not wish to act too quickly.”

“Yah, that would be best.”

“Then we understand each other,” he said, touching her hand again.

She nodded and watched him step up into the buggy, slap the reins, and touch the brim of his hat by way of saying goodbye. Then he was gone. Still she stood and watched until his buggy disappeared in the early morning light.

“Are we going in the house?” Mary asked, tugging on her dress.

“Yah,” Ella said, “we are. Come, let’s go.”

By midmorning Ronda came down the basement steps and knocked gently on the wood railing. “I’m ready to quilt. Is it okay if I come down?”

“You are always welcome,” Ella said.

The two women quilted quickly, adjusting the frame twice before the lunch hour approached. Finally, after a particular long silence, Ronda cleared her throat as if to speak.

Ella waited, keeping the smile off her face.

“Did you and the bishop get things worked out?” Ronda asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yah, satisfactorily I think,” Ella said, maintaining a straight face.

“Oh, Ella, don’t keep me in suspense any longer! You’ve been torturing me all morning. And what were you and Preacher Stutzman talking about this morning?”

“He just dropped off the girls.”

“Ella, I’m going to scream!”

Ella burst out laughing.

“Well, at least it must not be bad news,” Ronda said. “Did you get things patched up, then?”

“I have made up my mind,” Ella whispered. “I told the bishop not to come back, and I told Ivan this morning he could start seeing me. I have decided to follow my heart in loving the girls. Time will tell if my heart will also lead me to Ivan.”

“Ivan, is it? What did he say?”

“He was nice enough. He didn’t push things.”

“And he’d better not,” Ronda said, glaring out the window, “or he will have to answer to me. He should appreciate what he’s getting. And what did the poor bishop have to say? I do sort of feel sorry for him. He just lost the best girl he could ever have gotten.”

“The bishop thinks I’m making a mistake, of course.”

Ronda simply sighed.

“And now,” Ella said, “we had best focus our attention on this quilt. We have a business to attend to.”