The Bridesmaid (25 page)

But sleep did not come quickly. For one thing, she had a hard time dismissing the conversation with Ella Mae the day they'd canned peaches. For another, she couldn't forget the letters her namesake had written to her own sister Miriam.

Lying there in the darkened room, Joanna stared at the open window, welcoming the cool night air. She had carefully folded back the heirloom quilt, along with the sheet, and relished the slight breeze on her cotton gown.

And then, as if a nudge had come from heaven, an unexpected idea dropped into her heart.
Oh jah.
Joanna knew exactly what she wanted to tell Preacher Yoder, Lord willing, once he revealed what was on his mind. It was ever so plain to her just now.

But dare she speak up yet again?

A
single blunt knock came at the back door the next day, just as Joanna and her mother were sitting down to catch a breath after having hung out an extra large washing. They'd also baked two more loaves of bread than usual, and on such a warm day, too.

Mamma looked sideways at Joanna and got up to move toward the screen door, where Preacher Yoder stood in his usual black attire, his straw hat in hand, jaw set.

I must surely be in trouble again.
Joanna slunk down in her chair at the table, where she'd fluted the edges of two pie shells she planned to fill with early apples. When she glanced up, she could see the old well pump behind the preacher, in the backyard. She cringed, remembering the minister's last visit.

Meanwhile, Mamma was telling him Dat had gone. “Went over to Noah's place not fifteen minutes ago.”

Joanna held her breath and hoped Preacher Yoder might simply offer to return at a more suitable time.

“Joanna, dear,” Mamma called, turning to reveal a flushed face.

She left the piecrusts there on the table.
I'll hear what he has to say and be done with it,
Joanna told herself.

But before she could get out to the utility room door, Preacher Yoder strode into the kitchen with Mamma following behind like a chubby little bird.

“Joanna,” he said, not cracking a smile. “I have something to tell you.”

She refused the urge to flinch and instead met him at the table when Mamma gave a slight shift of her hand, indicating they should sit. Joanna sat where Cora Jane usually did, on the long bench facing the windows, and Mamma sat across from her in her own chair, with Preacher Yoder presumptuously at the head of the table, in Dat's place.

Preacher folded his callused hands on the table and stared at them for a moment. “You are quite fond of writing, as I understand it.”

Joanna slowly raised her eyes to his. This was ground they'd already covered.

“And you continue to write even now, according to the deacon's wife, Sallie, and others.”

“Only poetry.” She took the risk and defended herself in what she dearly hoped was a respectful tone. “Little poems to cheer folk up.”

He nodded, his expression less severe than at the last visit. “So I hear.”

“I've given up my story writing—gave it up before the Lord God and heavenly Father.” She longed to jump ahead and tell him what had helped to prompt her decision, but she refrained, thinking it unwise. She curled her toes under the table.

“Sallie is so impressed by those little poems, she's suggested I encourage you to submit some of them to the
Ladies Journal
.” He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to her. It gave an editor's name and the address for submissions.

Joanna could hardly speak. “My writings . . . published?”

“Your
poetry.
”

She was stunned at this turn of events. Mamma beamed at her across the table, and her short, quick nod of the head meant that Joanna should say something. But news of this sort had been the farthest thing from her mind on such a day. “Are
you
 . . . is she ever so sure?”

“Sallie?” Preacher grinned. “I'm told several women were in agreement with her.”

Joanna thought then of the way Fannie's visit to the deacon's wife had been somewhat downplayed by Mammi Kurtz. Now that Joanna thought of it, she wondered if Cora Jane might also have been involved.

Beyond pleased, Joanna shook her head as she tried to absorb all of this. And, lo and behold, the very question she'd so wanted to ask just flew from her mind. Gone in the wake of this wonderful-
gut
surprise.

“I'll leave it up to you to pursue this, if you wish,” Preacher added. “With my blessing . . . and Bishop John's, too.”

The bishop's?

She nodded, still overwhelmed at this turn of events. It wasn't difficult to think of which poem to present to the magazine editors. A pleasant tremor went through her. What if it ended up in print for the whole world to see?
Her
world . . . the Plain community at large.

Then, before Joanna could say more, Mamma offered to bring each of them a slice of warm bread with strawberry jam, and soon Joanna and the preacher found themselves sitting alone at the table, just looking at each other.

Something about the way he ran his fingers up and down his suspenders made her think of Eben. And in that moment, Joanna knew she could indeed confide in Preacher Yoder.

Eben enjoyed nibbling the fresh cinnamon sticky bun his mother had made earlier that morning, though he allowed himself only one. He hadn't second-guessed the things Daed had put to him the other night in the barn. None of his older brothers had blinked an eye at Daed's decision, which still surprised Eben. Yet he reeled with the news and felt it was only right to contact Leroy about it, as well.

“You and your father have to fill silo yet,” his mother said, offering more to eat.

“That and the vet's comin' to check the cows' blood for TB and brucellosis in a couple of days,” Eben mentioned. Knowing how sluggish eating between meals made him, he politely refused any more mouthwatering treats and hurried back out to help his father.

Eyeing the phone shack, a brown dot in the distance, he determined it was time to give Leroy a call.

Later tonight.

The time had come for Joanna to share with Preacher Yoder what she'd felt led to do. “No matter how things turn out, I want to do this for the Lord God . . . and out of respect for the brethren,” she began.

A confused frown crossed the minister's brow. “Speak plainly,” he urged.

She glanced at Mamma, now over at the sink, then back at the minister. “After prayer, I am willing to sacrifice my story writing for the rest of my life, for a transfer of membership to another state,” she said with all the courage she could gather.

“To which church?”

She told him quietly.

“Well, I can't promise, but I'll bring it up with Bishop John.” His composed countenance spoke volumes, and she felt heartened.

Mamma returned to the table carrying a plate with two thick slices of bread and set it down, along with a jar of jam.

Joanna continued, being more direct than she'd ever been with anyone in spiritual authority. In turn, the preacher made it equally clear that she was permitted to continue writing her poetry as long as it was done to offer encouragement.

“Daughter?” Mamma said after a time, looking baffled as she sat there. “Why a request to transfer to another church?”

Holding off on revealing her entire plan, Joanna explained that she didn't know yet if transferring would even be necessary. “But I'll know soon enough.”

It was only then that Joanna saw the bewilderment lift, and tenderness and understanding shone in Mamma's dear eyes.

J
oanna hadn't really foreseen how anxious she would be to locate the Troyer farm in thriving, green Shipshewana. By the time she arrived Friday—in a van full of other Amish heading for various towns in Indiana—and had acquired a taxicab, she was beginning to feel the effects of the exceedingly long day, tired yet buoyed by the excitement of her surprise visit. The worry came from not knowing what her former beau might do or say when she arrived without warning.

What if he has a steady girlfriend by now?
Joanna asked herself, then attempted to squash the dreadful notion. Oh, surely not! Yet the voice of reason crept back in, and she realized that Eben could very well have moved on with a new sweetheart. What would keep him from doing so?

Either way, she had to know for certain. And if not, was he still thinking of her, missing her . . . wishing there was a miraculous way for them to be together? Well, here she was, and all of their distance keeping was behind them. Although Joanna no longer wrote down her romantic imaginings about happily-ever-afters, she still liked to contemplate different scenarios. No one could keep her from writing stories in her head, so to speak. And she did just that as she enjoyed the ride along the rural roads, all of which were numbered county roads rather than streets with names, like those in Hickory Hollow.

Weary as she was, she longed to lean her head back in the cab, but she would not have time to undo her hair bun and tidy it up before seeing Eben and meeting his family.
If that even happens.
The thought of being introduced to his parents hadn't been something she'd mentally prepared herself for at all. And thinking just now how awkward that might turn out to be for all of them, Joanna wondered why she hadn't considered it before now.
Was I in too much of a hurry?
she wondered, thinking back to last Monday and the preacher's visit.

Mamma had quizzed her at length after their minister left with strawberry jam on his shirt. She'd been unable to suppress her smile or her animation. In fact, Joanna had never imagined her mother so aflutter about Joanna's hope of reuniting with Eben. Mamma, of course, had mixed feelings of both joy and sadness—and, oh, how she fretted about the risk Joanna was taking!

“I
have
to do this,” Joanna had explained, citing her namesake as the inspiration for her daring plan to go to Indiana. “Did ya know my ancestor proposed marriage to the man she eventually married?”

Mamma grimaced and said she wasn't certain that information was factual, but Joanna insisted Mammi Kurtz knew all about it.

Once Joanna had finished sharing her intention, she asked Mamma not to tell Dat. “Only you and Cora Jane will know,” Joanna said. “Promise?”

Mamma looked askance, as if to say,
“You're asking this?”

“I'll tell Cora Jane myself,” she assured Mamma.

“Well, and that's far better, I daresay. Sister to sister.” Mamma fell silent for a time. “Your father would never agree to let you go, if he knew.”

“Another reason why it's probably best for him not to. After all, aren't I old enough to decide?”

“He'd say it isn't becoming of you to chase after a beau.”

Doubtless Mamma was right. Except that Eben Troyer hadn't been just any beau. Joanna wholly trusted that God had planted this desire in her heart . . . and now she must fulfill it.

———

The cabbie pulled into a long, tree-lined lane. “Here we are, miss.”

She paid the bill and double-checked the address she'd come to know so well
.
“Denki,” she said and got out.

The cab pulled away quickly, and she was left appraising the grand lawns and the Troyer house itself. There was a strange hush surrounding the place as Joanna walked timidly up the lane, carrying her small overnight case. Was it just her imagination, or was her heartbeat audible?

Flecks of sunlight dappled the flower gardens beneath enormous, leafy oak trees along the left side of the house and the wraparound porch. And, now that she was nearer, Joanna noticed several Amishmen strolling along the opposite side yard, talking in Deitsch. If she wasn't mistaken, one of them mentioned something about a “big doin's” coming up soon on these premises. What could that mean? Perhaps a landmark birthday for either of Eben's parents, like the celebration thrown for Mary Beiler? Or someone's wedding anniversary?

She focused again on the three-story house, noting the arch of a tree limb reaching like a protective wing over a white gazebo with gingerbread latticework along the bottom. The air was fragrant with climbing pink roses on two white arbors, and there were several martin birdhouses positioned on the lawn. She searched for any sign of Eben, hoping she might spot him near the barn set off to the west.

There was a white sports car parked in the very back, and surprised, she wondered whose it was. A black-and-white tabby meowed loudly at her, then ran and hid under the back porch, as if daring her to play hide-and-seek.

With a knock on the screen door, Joanna peered into the wide summer porch and beyond, into the long kitchen. She saw no one. Then, just as she was wondering if anyone was at home, she heard someone calling and turned to see a red-haired English woman wearing white walking shorts and a bright red sleeveless blouse. A cross pendant hung around her slender neck.

“May I help you?” the young woman asked, pushing her lovely hair behind one ear.

Joanna noticed the sparkling diamond ring on her left hand and wondered if this might be Leroy's bride. “I'm a friend of Eben's,” she said. “Thought I'd surprise him with a visit.”

The petite woman glanced curiously at Joanna's overnight bag and shook her head. “I'm sorry, but Eben's out of town for a few days. Left this morning.”

“Oh,” Joanna said, heart sinking. “I've missed him, I guess.”

Looking her over, the younger woman frowned for a moment, her eyes searching Joanna's face. Then she turned as if she was going to call to someone, but just as suddenly turning back. She touched Joanna's hand. “Excuse me, but you wouldn't be . . .” She paused. “Are you Joanna?”

“Jah.” She shook her head enthusiastically, pleased the woman knew her name.
A gut sign, for sure!
“And might you be Eben's new sister-in-law?”

“I am.” The pretty woman nodded, smiling now. “Debbie's my name.” She shook Joanna's hand. “I'm just along for the ride, I guess you could say . . . here to help my husband and his family organize and sort through a lifetime of accumulation.”

Sort through?

“What do you mean?” Joanna asked, astonished.

“Leroy's parents are auctioning off the farm this coming week—moving to Virginia Beach. So we're dividing up the items they don't want to sell. Sentimental things, you know . . . things that should remain in the family.”

Joanna wondered when this had come about, and how it would impact Eben. Her head was whirling. She wanted to ask if Debbie truly knew what she was talking about, because it sounded unbelievable. Such strange things she was telling her . . . so very hard to comprehend. Eben's father was selling his farm?

Just then a young man in blue jeans and a gray T-shirt appeared from the barn, heading this way. He looked enough like Eben to be his brother, and his gait reminded Joanna of the first time she'd seen Eben walking along the beach, snapping pictures. In that surreal moment, she wondered what had ever become of those pictures. Had Eben saved them? She so yearned to see them . . . to see him.

Debbie introduced Leroy to her, and he was quick to offer a handshake in greeting. Then he slapped his forehead, laughing hard. When he'd managed to stop long enough to speak, he said, “You'll never guess where Eben is right now.” He paused a moment. “He hopped on an early-morning van to Lancaster.”

Joanna thought her heart might stop right then and there.

Leroy was still chuckling, and Debbie looked as shocked as Joanna felt, obviously just hearing about this amazing coincidence for the first time. “Well, like we say here, don't this beat all?” Leroy said amidst more laughter.

“What's he plannin' to do there?” Joanna's voice sounded far away to her.

Leroy ran his hands through his hair and looked at the sky, then back at her, a glint in his eye.

Suddenly, she knew. Debbie had mentioned an auction here. So Eben had gone looking for her—to tell her the news that he was unshackled at last!

But Joanna didn't wish to hear any more of the details from either Leroy or his wife. No, she wanted to wait to hear all of this from Eben himself.
Dear, dear Eben!

She noticed the cell phone clipped to Leroy's pocket. “Might I use your phone right quick?” she asked, wanting to contact Cousin Maria before it got dark.

Leroy gladly handed it to her and showed her how to use it. She made the call to see if she could spend the night with the candlemaker before catching an early van home tomorrow, explaining that she was Salina's sister, which opened the door to Maria's heart extra wide. Or so it seemed by the sound of delight in her voice.

Still flabbergasted by the day's unfolding events, Joanna thanked Leroy for the use of his phone. When he offered to drive her to Maria's, with Debbie accompanying them, she wasn't sure what to say. This was the man whose foolishness, his discarding of his Amish heritage, had kept her and Eben apart. But forgiveness was a way of life, the very core of their beliefs. She had to overlook what he'd done, knowing people made their own choices, whether for God or the world. “All right,” she said, agreeing. “I appreciate it.”

“Won't Eben be surprised when he finds out you're
here
?” Debbie said over her shoulder as they climbed into the sporty car.

The realization shook Joanna anew.