The Bridesmaid (7 page)

J
oanna was surprised when Mamma let Cora Jane know that she alone was to be responsible for clearing the table and redding up the supper dishes.

Meanwhile, Joanna managed to keep her composure until Dat took Eben outside to the barn. “You had no right to speak up like that, Cora Jane! What were ya thinkin', for pity's sake?”

Cora Jane still sat at the table, leaning her head into her hands.

“Now, girls,” Mamma said, getting up to look outside. “This'll never do. Let's make this a pleasant time.”

“Well, Eben's trouble.” Cora Jane rose from her seat. “He is . . . you'll see.”

“Listen here, I'd never think of talkin' up to your beau like that.”

“Well, don't ya think it's a
gut
thing I did?”

Joanna left the kitchen to go and sit where she and Eben had enjoyed a quiet and relaxed moment, prior to supper.
Before Cora Jane came home!
She sat there, not knowing what to do. Would Eben take the next van out of here tonight yet? She wouldn't blame him if he called for a driver immediately. What sort of hornet's nest had he walked into?
Ach, I hope he isn't thinking the selfsame thing!

She folded her hands, trying to soothe herself by taking deep breaths. Sometimes it was a good idea to just breathe, especially when feeling fit to be tied. Joanna looked out the window at the rising moon.
Eben never told me about Leroy's role in all of this
, she thought, feeling sad.

Even so, Eben was here now, and she believed he'd meant business about courting her. He had also been honest enough to share his quandary. So shouldn't she simply make the best of their time together? Surely things would work out eventually.

Sighing, Joanna wished Cora Jane had just stayed put next door with
Dawdi
and Mammi for the day.

Eben came inside to warm his hands by the heater stove and urged Joanna to dress “extra warm tonight.” Joanna layered up quickly, happy at the thought of going out. And then, with a word of good-bye to Mamma and Cora Jane, Eben picked up his duffel bag and they headed out together. Joanna was surprised to see the sleigh waiting and ready. Evidently, Dat and Eben had hitched Krissy up to the one-horse open sleigh as a treat.

“Thought it'd be fun to see the area while it's snowing,” Eben said, guiding her by the elbow as they made their way over the slippery sidewalk and across the driveway.

Even though she was fully capable of getting into the sleigh on her own, Joanna accepted his help, a feeling of relief settling on her.
At least he's not ready to rush right home,
she thought
.

Nightfall was approaching as they set out for the evening, turning west on Hickory Lane. Snow was falling more gently now.

She smiled at Eben and was surprised to see he was looking at her, his soft brown eyes seeking her out. “I want to apologize for my sister's impertinence at supper,” she said, then paused. “I'm awful sorry.”

“I didn't mind, really,” he said kindly. “Maybe it's all for the best . . . getting things out in the open right away, ya know?”

“Well, I'm sure her outspokenness bothered my parents. And me.”

Eben reached for her hand. He held it close against his chest. “I don't mind a plainspoken woman at all, 'specially when she's speakin' what she believes in.”

Joanna couldn't imagine her father saying something like that. Most men she knew felt just the opposite—they wanted their women to be passive and obedient. And even though her own father was a man of little speech, he was most definitely the family patriarch. He made all of the big decisions. Mamma was fairly placid when it came to Dat.

They were coming up now on Samuel and Rebecca Lapp's sandstone house. Seeing the downstairs windows glowing with old-fashioned amber light made her think of the Lapps' adopted daughter, Katie, who lived in the English world, not far from Hickory Hollow. Since she was shunned, Katie was still very much out of arm's reach of the People.

“There's a nice big pond out behind the Lapps' barn,” she told Eben. “I've skated on it many times.”

“Maybe we could go before my ride leaves tomorrow afternoon. Would ya like that?”

She smiled, delighted he was so accommodating. “That'd be wonderful-
gut.
”

Riding a little ways beyond Samuel and Rebecca's home, Joanna pointed out their bishop's farmhouse. “John Beiler was a young widower, but eventually he remarried a much younger woman,” Joanna mentioned. “You'll be stayin' at his wife's parents' house tonight—Abe and Rachel Stoltzfus are just across the field from us.”

“Then I guess it might not be a
gut
idea to be out all hours, jah?” He winked and playfully pulled her closer.

“I didn't mean that,” she chuckled, explaining that Rachel had said the back door would be unlocked. “You can sleep in the downstairs guest bedroom, just to the right of the kitchen. She'll keep a lantern lit for ya.”

“So we
do
have all night, then.” Eben kissed her gloved hand.

“If we don't mind getting frostbit.”

His laughter filled the sky. “I won't let you get too cold, believe me,” he said, pointing to the woolen lap blankets. “Your father saw to it that I was well supplied.”

Which means Dat approves of Eben.
“The two of you conspired, then?”

“In so many words.”

Joanna caught his meaning and had to smile. He must not mind Dat's reticence, she decided.

“He wasn't reluctant to give his blessing when I asked,” Eben surprised her by saying. “But I made it clear where the courting will take place. And now we must pray fervently for Leroy's return.”

She wished things didn't depend upon his brother's actions. But she was hesitant to say so.

“Where to now?” he asked when they came to a crossroads.

“I know! The one-room schoolhouse is comin' up soon,” she said, pointing with her free hand. “You'll see it in the moonlight.”

“Did you ever teach school after eighth-grade graduation?” he said.

“I was never asked, but my sister Salina did for three years before she was engaged.”

“What about Cora Jane?” he asked. “Did she?”

“There was some talk of it, but she was passed over for one of our cousins.”

“And why was that?”

Joanna didn't want to shed more negative light on her sister. “Cora Jane just wasn't ready.”

“Too blunt . . . is that it?”

“Maybe so.”

Eben slowed the horse a bit. “If your school board's anything like ours, I understand. They tend to have rather inflexible expectations.”

She agreed as they pulled into the school yard. Eben helped Joanna down from the sleigh, keeping her hand in his even after she was safely down.

———

Eben slipped his arm around Joanna while they peered into the windows of the little schoolhouse. She pointed to the large plaque on the wall, just over the chalkboard:
Trust in the Lord.

“It's been there for as long as I can remember,” she said. Joanna was talkative, even expressive, and he liked the way she strung her phrases together—made him think she was well read, although she never mentioned books. Certainly her letters were exceptional. She wrote in a manner he'd never encountered before, as if she were sharing her very heart on the page.

“Come, Eben, I want to show you where I used to sit and eat my snack during afternoon recess.” She tugged on his hand, and he loved that she seemed so comfortable with him.

He followed her around to the front of the school, near the steps. “Were you a shy girl?”

“Well, I still am . . . sometimes.” She smiled up at him, blinking her eyes.

“
Most
of the time, right?”

“S'pose so.” She led him to the swing on the far left. “Right here. This was always my spot,” she told him. “I liked to swing as hard as I could, sometimes leaning back and lookin' down at the ground almost upside down, just a-yearnin' for that giddy feeling in my stomach. Know what I mean?”

Did he ever! “I did that hundreds of times.” He paused. “So you took your snacks to the swing?”

“I put my lunchbox on the ground until I got tired of swinging fast; then I dillydallied and ate my snacks later, dragging my feet in the dirt.”

“Ah, but only after you tired yourself out.”

“My classmates didn't call me
schpassich
for nothin'.” Her laugh was delicate in the cold air.

“I don't find you peculiar at all, Joanna.”

“Well, you're still getting to know me, jah?”

Eben stepped near, reaching for her again and catching the scent of her perfume. “I can't wait till we have more time for that. And . . . I'm thinkin' our courtship shouldn't last too long.” Looking into Joanna's eyes, he was incredibly drawn to her. He wanted to take her in his arms right then and there. He had to purposely force away the thought of kissing her parted lips.

“We best be goin',” she said, apparently sensing what he was feeling. “There's so much more to see.”

Sighing inwardly, he agreed. There was plenty of time to demonstrate his affection for her—a whole lifetime ahead.
Lord willing.

Snow was falling harder now, and it made him remember the woolen blankets, which he unfolded and placed over her once Joanna was settled back in the sleigh. “Let me know if you're still chilly. All right?” he said, loving the sweet, reserved way she had about her.

Joanna nodded without speaking, and he wondered if she, too, had yearned for him to hold her close back at the schoolhouse.

They made a complete circle of Hickory Hollow, and Joanna pointed out one fond landmark after another. She told interesting stories, too, about her many kinfolk, her interactions with Englischers at market . . . and a beautifully secluded spot called Weaver's Creek, set back from the road. She said she hoped they'd have time to at least drive by there before he left tomorrow. The way she talked, there was no doubt in his mind she was extremely attached to this small speck on the map. No, a girl like Joanna wouldn't think of leaving her home. She shouldn't have to.

Our very future lies in my brother's hands. . . .

A
long about eleven o'clock that night, Joanna realized she had very little sensation in her fingers and toes. She and Eben had gotten caught up in conversation about his hope to move to Hickory Hollow to live and work. He had a real interest in becoming an apprentice for a smithy, and he wanted to meet the local blacksmith tomorrow. Of course, farming was definitely in Eben's blood, so that was also an option, if they could just find a parcel of land. But considering the lack of available farmland, it was unlikely.

Just then he leaned his face against hers. “Time to get you home,” he said. “I'll unhitch while you get warmed up.”

“Don't ya want to go directly to Abe Stoltzfus's place? It's on the way back to Dat's.” She was thinking of him.

“But then you'll be stuck unhitching by yourself,” he said, clearly unhappy about that.

“Won't take much, really. Maybe I'll get Cora Jane to help me.”

He chuckled. “You wouldn't.”

“No,” she said, smiling. “I'm not that brave.”

“I really hate to leave ya with that chore on such a cold night.” He paused. “Why don't we just head back to your house?” he suggested. “And I'll unhitch while you warm up indoors. Then, once the horse is stabled, I'll come inside for a while.”

She touched his arm. “And I'll make ya some hot cocoa.”

“We'll sit in your mother's kitchen and talk a bit longer, jah?”

Joanna could tell he liked this idea. “
Gut,
then.”

Eben unhitched the mare faster than Joanna expected—surely his fingers were as stiff and numb as her own, and gloves made it even harder to maneuver. Yet presently she could see him leading Krissy back to the barn.

She paced in front of the heater stove, remembering what Eben had said about appreciating a frank woman. His response still surprised her. Evidently Joanna had worried about Cora Jane's candor for nothing.

Looking across the field, she wondered if Rachel Stoltzfus had remembered to light the lantern in the kitchen. She strained to see, and sure enough, it looked like she had. Joanna could just make out the kitchen windows from where she stood. She might simply point Eben in the right direction and let him walk over there on his own, once he'd had a good chance to thaw out. It wouldn't do for them to say their farewell for the night outside Abe's farmhouse anyway, for goodness' sake. Nor would it do for them to get too cozy here in Mamma's kitchen. The way Eben was talking, he might be stuck in Shipshewana working with his father for who knew how much longer yet.

So I mustn't let him kiss me.
Joanna didn't want to be sorry later, if for some reason Leroy Troyer didn't return home to partner with his father.
In case Eben can't leave there. . . .

No, she didn't want to risk giving away her first kiss.

———

There had been many moments in Eben's life when his head had ruled his emotions, but tonight hadn't been one of them. Eager to get back to Joanna, he pushed hard against the barn door, closing it soundly. He was grateful for the time he'd spent earlier with Nate Kurtz.
My future father-in-law, if all goes well.

Glancing toward the house, he could see movement through the back door window—was Joanna standing there, waiting? Poor thing, if she was even half as frozen as he was. He tramped through the fresh snow as he made his way back to the house, ready for the hot chocolate. And a few more precious moments with Joanna, as well. He needed to slow down, he thought, lest they spend all their time cuddling. Much as he longed to hold her close, they had so little time together; he wanted to learn as much about her as possible—keep her talking. And, if he wasn't mistaken, there seemed to be something she was holding back from him, something she was hiding, though he couldn't put his finger on it.

———

Eben thanked Joanna for the large mug of cocoa and plate of cookies. She'd lit the gas lamp over the table so that the light spread across the room and poured into part of the small sitting area where they'd first sat when he arrived. Seeing her again now, in this place, he marveled at how dear she'd become to him since that first evening by the ocean. He realized anew how fortunate he was that she was still single, not snatched up and married years ago.

Joanna came over to the table and sat next to him on the bench. She smiled without speaking as she began to sip her own cocoa, but her eyes danced in the warmth of the kitchen.

“I enjoyed seein' Hickory Hollow,” he said.

“Would be nice if you could see it in the daytime, too.”

He agreed. Then he thought to ask the name of their blacksmith. “I'd like to talk to him right quick tomorrow, if you don't mind.”

“I'm sure Smithy Riehl would be happy to meet you and talk shop.”

“Of course I'd like to work in some fun for us, too,” he went on. “I've been wondering . . . do you have an extra pair of skates big enough for my feet?” he asked, wishing he didn't have to leave so soon.

“I'm sure we do somewhere.”

He nodded. “How well do you skate?”

She ducked her head, shy again. “Salina says I'm perty
gut.
”

“I'll bet you are.” Eben reached for a chocolate chip cookie. “So we'll go skating bright and early tomorrow.”

“After a nice hot breakfast, jah?”

“If you're cooking, it'll be delicious.”

She blushed and nodded. “What's your mother usually make for breakfast?” she asked.

He realized just then that, other than Leroy, he hadn't talked much about his own family. “Anything from oatmeal to chicken and waffles and gravy. Sometimes scrambled eggs with ham.”

“Sounds filling.”

“I'd like you to meet Mamm sometime . . . and Daed, too.”

“That'd be real nice.”

“I hope it can be soon.” He sensed her sudden hesitance. Who could blame her, after what he'd revealed at supper? “Don't worry. Something will work out, Joanna.” He reached for her hand. “I believe God has a plan for our lives . . . yours and mine—together.”

Slowly, she smiled. “I've felt that way, too.”

“So we'll just trust in that, jah?” He leaned near. “All right?”

After a time she asked if he'd like more cocoa, but because it was growing late and he was mindful of the Stoltzfuses' kindly gesture for the night, he said he should head over there.

Quickly, Joanna offered him a flashlight from the lowest cupboard. “This'll help ya see your way.”

They walked hand in hand out to the utility room, where he turned and thanked her again for the delicious drink and the evening. “I'll see ya tomorrow.” He paused. “My sweetheart,” he added in a whisper, reaching for her.

“
Gut Nacht
, Eben.” She stepped back ever so slightly, and he knew right then that he didn't dare stay any longer. He picked up his duffel bag.

“Da Herr sei mit du—
God be with you, Joanna.” With that, he reached for his black felt hat from the nearest wooden peg, then pushed open the back door and stepped out into the frosty night.