The Amish Bride (21 page)

I needed to get back to Lancaster County as soon as possible. So be it if I had to give up baking school.

I had Saturday off and dragged around the house. Penny was gone all day, shopping with a friend. By the time she arrived home, it was dark. She said she was going to church the next morning and then out for lunch with another friend. I didn’t bother to ask when she could take me by the Home Place. Once again, I found myself wishing I had a license and a car.

The next morning I sat on my bed and watched the rain bounce off the leaves of the maple outside my window. Mom and Zed would be going to church and then maybe over to Aunt Klara’s later. Or maybe they would spend the afternoon with Freddy. Maybe he would come to our house for Sunday dinner even.
Our house.
It wasn’t mine anymore, not at all. I pulled one of the three pillows on the bed against my chest and hugged it tightly.

My mind jumped from one memory of Ezra to another. Then I started speculating what the talk about us was back home, who was saying what, how his
mamm
and
daed
would have reacted, what Ada would have said to other people about me, what Ezra was telling people about his short time in Indiana.

I didn’t want to head out to the Mennonite church, the one Penny had pointed out when she drove me to the grocery store the week before. Though it was within walking distance, I had no desire to go out in the rain.

I stayed in bed.

A half hour later, my head still in an Ezra fog, I shuffled downstairs to make myself a couple of eggs. By the time I finished eating it had stopped raining and the sun had come out. I stepped out onto the patio. It was relatively warm. Penny had offered me the use of her bike anytime. I contemplated going for a ride.

I knew the Home Place was toward Goshen. It wouldn’t hurt to ride the bike in that direction, looking for Willow Lane.

A few minutes later, I turned right on Nappanee Avenue, away from downtown and toward Goshen. The tires of the bike made a hissing sound over the wet pavement. I passed house after house, then a church, a school, and more houses. I pedaled harder. Even though the day was cool, I began to sweat under my cape. I missed Ezra. I missed his motorcycle. I missed the security of being with him.

The trip out on Ezra’s motorcycle had made me more aware of the countryside, but being on the bicycle was that times ten. I noticed everything. A man was working on his truck in the driveway of his house while children played around him. A little girl holding a doll waved. A family piled out of a van in front of a house, looking as if they had just returned from church. A couple on the other side of the street strolled along, hand in hand. Everyone seemed to be with someone today, except for me.

I turned right, following the sign to Goshen. A horse and buggy came toward me on the other side of the street. I could make out the young family inside as they passed by. And then two bicyclists.

Finally I reached the outskirts of the town and the fifty-five mile-per-hour speed limit. I was now on Highway 119, and I winced as the cars and trucks picked up speed and whizzed by. I tensed up again, bracing myself against the force of it, gripping the handlebars to keep the bike steady, trying to stay on the edge of the shoulder but out of the gravel.

The other bicyclists I’d seen since I arrived in Nappanee made it look so easy. I kept glancing from one side of the road to the other, hoping Willow Lane would appear. As I rode, I studied each house. At first all of them seemed to be
Englisch
farms, but after a while I passed a decidedly Plain farm with no electrical wires in sight and a buggy with a horse hitched to it out front. After that, there were plenty of Amish-looking places. Lots of them had “No Sunday Business” signs up under placards advertising farm-fresh eggs.

After a while I stopped and pulled my cell phone from my pocket. I’d only been riding for half an hour. I decided to ride for fifteen more minutes and then turn around if I hadn’t found Willow Lane. That would make it an hour and half total, a good long ride considering I’d hardly ever been on a bike before.

Not long after, however, I bumped over a sharp rock. As the air rushed out of the tire, I hobbled the bike to a stop. My stomach knotted. I had no idea how to fix a flat and even if I did, I had nothing with me to do so. I took out my cell and called Penny’s home number. She didn’t answer. I left her a message but decided not to call her cell in case she was still in church. Turning the bike around, I started pushing it, knowing I had a long walk ahead of me.

It was just after noon and the traffic had increased, creating a wind of pungent exhaust against my face and an occasional smattering of pebbles against my legs. I turned down the next county road I came to and cut back toward town on a less busy route.

I walked along, pushing the bike awkwardly. The road was narrow with hardly any shoulder, and I began to wonder if I’d made a mistake. A couple of times, when a car seemed too close, I stepped down into the slope of the ditch, holding the bike up as best I could. I called Penny’s home phone again, leaving a message that I’d gotten off the highway, hoping she would come looking for me. As I slipped my phone back into my pocket, I heard the clopping of a horse behind me and turned my head.

Two young women were approaching in a buggy. The driver looked to be about twenty, but the passenger was a few years younger, probably right around my age. They both had dark hair and creamy complexions and were obviously sisters.

“Need some help?” the driver called out.

“Yes,” I called out gratefully. “Where are you headed?” I hoped they were going into town.

“Home,” the oldest girl said, reciting the county road number they lived on.

It was two over from the one the dairy was located on. “Do you know the Darryl Kline family? I think they are close by.”

“Sure,” the driver said.

“Could you take me there?” If he was home, maybe Luke could patch the tire for me.

“No problem,” the younger girl said. “I’ll help you with the bike. I’m Naomi, by the way. And that’s Anna.”

“Thanks so much. I’m Ella.”

After we wrestled the bike into the back, I hopped up front, settling onto the bench.

Naomi asked if I was related to the Klines. I said I wasn’t, but that I’d met Luke and hoped he could help me.

“Have you met Thomas?” Anna asked.

I shook my head.

“Anna thinks he’s cute,” Naomi said.

“You hush!” Anna was blushing.

“And he is,” Naomi added, and then she laughed.

“As cute as Luke?” I asked.

Anna was laughing now.

“Oh, well, they don’t look a thing alike,” Naomi said. “Tom is bigger, more muscular. And taller, even though they’re only a year apart.”

Luke had appeared pretty tall to me.

“But she prefers Luke,” Anna said, nudging her sister.

“He’s definitely handsome,” I said, but I felt uncomfortable in the middle of the girls’ teasing.

After that we rode along in silence for a while. They didn’t ask me where I was from and I didn’t volunteer. We passed Willow Lane and I strained my neck trying to see if I could spot the Home Place. I couldn’t.

I asked about Rosalee.

“
Ya
, we know her,” Anna said. “She’s in the same district as the Klines, over one from us. The older kids work for her some.”

I perked up at that. Maybe Luke would introduce me to her.

A few minutes later, Anna maneuvered the buggy down a long driveway, bordered by pastures. Ahead was a weary-looking and quite small farmhouse. A wave of emotion swept over me at the sight of the farm where
Mammi
had lived with her husband, where they had raised their three daughters. If I had my dates right, my mother had spent the first eight years of her life here. Now I had come back to the very same place, bringing it full circle. Amazing.

“They might not be back from church yet,” the younger girl said.

The place looked pretty quiet. Just as I was getting out of the buggy, intending to go knock on the front door, I caught a glimpse of a man by the barn. I headed that way instead.

“Hello,” I called out.

A moment later I could tell the man was Luke.

“Ella?” He stepped toward me. “What are you doing here?”

“My bike has a flat tire. I was hoping maybe you could fix it for me.”

“Sure,” he said, leading the way back toward the buggy. Anna and Naomi were both smiling at him. He said hello and thanked them, and then he hoisted the bike from the back.

I thanked the young women too. As Anna turned the buggy around, Naomi kept her eyes on Luke, as much as she could, until they were headed back toward the road.

Luke told me to wait while he fetched a new tube. As he headed back toward the barn, I stood in the driveway, holding the bike and looking around. Next to the house stood a shed, a windmill, and then the barn. Past the house was a creek that came out of the woods. I knew from Google Earth that it bordered the Home Place.

As I was staring off into the woods, my eyes along the tops of the fir trees, Luke returned empty-handed.

“Someone used the last tube and didn’t replace it.”

“That’s okay. I’ll walk back to the highway. I’m sure I’ll find a ride.”

“No, I’ll take you.”

“But you’re busy…”

He shook his head. “I came home from church before the others to check to see if we have any cows in labor, but we don’t.” He nodded back toward the barn. “I’ll go hitch up the buggy.”

“Are you sure?” I didn’t mean to be such a pain.

“Of course,” he said, blushing. He didn’t seem as nervous as the first time I met him, but he wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

I knew he probably had other things to do. Like courting a local girl. Maybe even Naomi. Or maybe they would see each other at a singing tonight. I sighed. It wasn’t as though I had any other options, except to walk back to the highway and see if someone would stop.

“Thanks,” I said. “That would be great.”

Ten minutes later, as we were headed toward the county road, I asked him about Rosalee and the Home Place.

“The Home Place?” His expression was bewilderment. “I haven’t heard it called that.”

“Really?” How odd. “But you know Rosalee, right? Aren’t you related somehow?”

“She’s my aunt. Let me think. By marriage, yes. Her husband was my mother’s uncle. Something like that.”

I nodded. “I’m hoping to see the Home Place sometime. And meet Rosalee. That’s where I was headed when I got the flat.”

“She isn’t there today.”

“Oh?”

“She’s off visiting. She went to another district’s church service.”

We were quiet for a few minutes. Finally, I turned toward him a little. “My mom lived on your dairy when she was little.”

“Oh?”

“So it was really nice to see it. Maybe you could show me around some more sometime.”

He nodded his head a little, but that was all.

I stared straight ahead. I thought of what Ezra said, about Darryl Kline being a tyrant. Maybe he wouldn’t want me stopping by. Maybe that was why Luke was so eager to give me a ride away from the farm.

We rode in silence after that, except for me giving directions to Penny’s house. When we reached our destination, I thanked him.

He blushed again.

“I hope this doesn’t mess up your day too much. You probably have plans for tonight, right? Like a singing?”

He nodded his head but didn’t, of course, elaborate.

Instead, he jumped down from the buggy and hauled the bike out of the back. I took it and thanked him again.

He nodded his head and climbed back into his buggy. As he pulled away, a wave of loneliness swept over me. It would have been nice to think Luke would be my friend and introduce me to Rosalee and show me around both the Home Place and the dairy, but that didn’t seem likely at all. Nothing having to do with Indiana was going according to my plans.

I missed Ezra with all of my heart.

I would give my notice the next day and then ask Penny to take me out to Plain Treats so I could at least see the Home Place before I went back to Pennsylvania. I had little hope of making a connection with
Rosalee more than introducing myself, but still I wanted, more than anything, to see where Sarah had lived. Then I would return to Lancaster County, do my best to avoid Freddy, and hope to marry Ezra as soon as possible.