The Photograph (5 page)

Eva returned to sit on the bed, then leaned back and stared at the ceiling. She let the air out and didn't draw another breath for a moment. Tomorrow was their baking day for the week, and while their cousin Rachel tended the candy shop, as she did each Saturday, Frona and Lily were planning to take some pies to several shut-in neighbors, as well as to the deacon's wife. If Lily really
wasn't
feeling well, maybe it was wise for her to turn in early tonight. But in the past, she'd been far sicker and still listened to the reading of the Good Book.

Rolling onto her side, Eva gave Lily some privacy as she undressed.
What would Mamma tell Lily tonight, kind
and loving as she always was?

It was Lily who broke the silence. “Will Frona be miffed if I don't go downstairs?”

“She'll think you're mad at Menno.”

“Like
she
is?” Lily sighed audibly. “I'm not goin' down there.” She stepped to the dresser mirror and divided her thick hair into thirds and began to braid it, her slender fingers gliding expertly through her smooth locks.

“Aw, Lily, you're not yourself tonight.” Eva pushed up against the headboard.

“Well, you're one hundred percent mistaken 'bout that.” Lily's firm reply hung like a thick curtain between them. There, in the room where they'd shared every imaginable sisterly secret and confided their hopes and yearnings.

All of our lives.

T
HE
MINUTE
SUPPER
WAS
OVER
, Jed Stutzman had hurried back to work a mile or so from the family farmhouse. His goal was to finish building another carriage seat by day's end.

Meanwhile, Uncle Ervin sat in the corner of the shop, leaning on his cane with wrinkled hands. Now and then, Ervin scuffed his black work shoes on the cement floor, commenting to Jed about one thing or another, his thread of a voice rising and falling in the glow of the gas lights installed in the ceiling.

A short while later, Perry also showed up and set to work with no prompting from Ervin, who had long since ceased supervising every aspect of both Perry's and Jed's excellent work.

Jed stepped back to survey his handiwork before glancing at his stooped uncle, perhaps the most respected buggy maker in all of Ohio's Amish country.
Oh,
to be as shrewd as Uncle Ervin.

“Say, Jedediah, I've been mullin' something over,” Uncle Ervin said. “I thought you might wanna go to Pennsylvania for some input from Jonas Byler, my wife's cousin. He could show ya some tricks to the buggy-making trade.”

“Never been there,” Jed replied, glad to please his uncle. “Sounds like an interesting opportunity.”

“Word has it Jonas may be callin' it quits come fall, so there's no time like the present.” Ervin rose with a groan and meandered over, standing close enough for Jed to smell his pipe tobacco. “It would be an honor for you to meet him, Jed. Spend a week or so.”

“I'll look forward to it.”

“All right, then. I suggest ya purchase a train ticket right away.” Then his uncle dropped the other shoe. “I've already arranged for you to stay with Jonas and his wife, Elsie, near Quarryville. They have a right nice granddaughter close to your age, and one a little younger. Both are mighty
perty
.” Ervin winked and tapped Jed on the shoulder.

Smiling, Jed played along. He should have known his uncle had more in mind than just getting some wisdom from a master carriage maker!

“You feelin' all right, love?” Naomi's husband asked when she rolled over in bed for the fourth time that night, trying to find a comfortable spot.

She hadn't wanted to awaken him and felt bad she had. “Just having trouble sleeping.”

Abner suggested she drink some warm milk. “Might help.”

That
used to work,
she thought, wondering if her insomnia was the Lord's way of keeping her up to pray for someone. It wouldn't have been the first time.

She slipped from bed, donned her lightweight robe, and reached for the flashlight on the nearby table. She padded downstairs barefoot, holding on to the railing as Abner had urged her to do in recent years. Too many women her age fell and broke a
hip. She smiled at her doting husband's suggestion to warm some milk. Ach,
as if for a baby.

The plank floors felt cool to her feet as she made her way to the kitchen. Naomi shone the flashlight on the day clock above the sink and knew she hadn't slept much, if at all. “What's ailin' me?” she whispered, going to the gas fridge and reaching for the half-gallon bottle, cow-fresh just yesterday. “After midnight, for pity's sake.”

She didn't bother to light the gas lamp over the table, instead letting the bright stream from the flashlight guide her movements. She carried the milk to the stove and paused, thinking she'd heard something outside. The Esches' dog barked across the way.

Walking to the side door, she peered out. The sound came again as she opened the inner door to let in some air. That certainly wasn't an animal crying, and the strange sound continued, alarming her for a reason she couldn't put her finger on.

Naomi pushed the screen door open, glad for at least a slice of a moon. Was something amiss out there? She waited, listening. Someone was crying at this hour, and in the direction of the road.

Might be
one of the neighbors' teenagers.

The way the side porch was situated, Naomi could see not only the road but across to neighboring farms. Standing near the screen door, she saw someone near Esches' lane as her eyes grew more accustomed to the diminished light.
A trespasser?

Concerned yet curious, Naomi stepped forward and reached for the porch banister. She held her breath as the slender figure dressed like an
Englischer
moved toward the road.

For a few minutes, the woman stood there as though waiting for someone. Naomi stared, and although her eyes were becoming adjusted to the dark, she was unable to determine exactly who this was.
One of the Esch girls? But if so, why
dressed so fancy?

Just then, an open buggy crept down the road and stopped in front of the neighbors' driveway. The young woman got in, and the horse headed quickly in the direction of May Post Office Road.

“What on earth?” Naomi said, her heart pounding.

In the wee hours, Eva stretched her hand across the mattress and realized Lily must have gone downstairs for a drink, as she sometimes did in the night. Lying in the darkness, she remembered their troubled conversation following Menno's unexpected declaration. She couldn't forget Lily's strange demeanor—the way she'd sobbed so pitifully.

O Lord
in heaven, help dear Lily,
she prayed silently before falling back to sleep.

She began to dream of ice-skating with Lily, holding hands and spinning over the ice together as little girls, their woolen scarves flying. They skated till they were breathless, and then Eva shared secrets about the kind of husband she wanted to marry when she grew up, whispering that she much preferred a nice man like their father—
“except not a farmer.”
But Lily kept silent and shook her head when Eva asked her and pressed for an answer.

“Sister, you've overslept. I need your help in the kitchen.” It was Frona hovering near.

Eva leaned up momentarily to look at the windup clock on the dresser. “Where's Lily?” she muttered sleepily.

Frona shook her head, her hands on her hips. “Haven't seen hide nor hair of her.”

“Must be out for a walk.”

“Maybe,” Frona agreed, stepping back as Eva emerged from bed. “She sure wasn't herself last evening.”

“None of us were.” Eva reached for her bathrobe on the footboard.

“A brisk walk might do Lily some
gut
.” Frona stared at the floor.

“I'll come down as soon as I'm dressed.”

“All right, then.” Frona left the room.

Hazily, Eva went to the shared closet and chose a green dress and matching apron for the day. High on the shelf, she noticed the small black overnight case missing.
Did Frona lend it to someone, perhaps?
She thought little of it, but then something compelled her to move to the opposite side of the closet, to Lily's dresses
.
Everything was as it should be, except for one missing lavender dress and black apron.

She turned and made her way to the dresser and opened the drawer where Lily kept her undergarments. Eva's breath caught in her throat. The drawer was completely empty. “For goodness' sake,” she whispered.

Going over to the desk where Lily had sat last evening, Eva looked in each of the small drawers, including the narrow one. But there was no sign of a letter there.

“I'm goin' to bed
early,”
Lily had said. Eva clearly recalled the misery in her sister's face.
“My heart pains me. . . .”

Eva swiftly dressed around and then also checked the petite chest of drawers across the room. There, atop the white doily, she saw an envelope addressed to her in Lily's hand. She unfolded it and began to read.

Dearest Eva,

I'm sorry if this upsets you, but I've decided to leave Eden Valley. I don't want to hurt you or Frona, or our brothers. Be assured this has nothing to do with any of you.

A friend of a friend has invited me to stay with her, so you mustn't worry over me. I've been pondering this move for
months now . . . and I've decided to go fancy. With Menno taking over the farmhouse, the timing seems especially right.

I love you, sister, and Frona, too. I know I'll miss all of my family, but things will be better this way.

Lily Esch

“Better . . .
how
?” Stunned, Eva hurried downstairs.

Frona was busy making bread. When she turned to look, she must have caught the strained look on Eva's face. “Don't tell me
 . . .
it's something 'bout Lily.”

“Here, read this.” She handed the letter to Frona, who took it warily, then read it, frowning.

“Did she say anything 'bout this last night?” asked Frona, looking up.

“
Nee
 . . .
but it sounds like Lily's been planning this.”

“Still, Menno's visit yesterday had to make things worse.”

They sat together at the table, absorbing the shocking turn of events. Any thoughts of breakfast had fled with the discovery of the letter.

“Where would Lily go?” Frona asked.

“I have some ideas, but nothin' certain.” Eva sniffed softly. “I can't understand it. There isn't anything in her note 'bout contacting us when she arrives at her destination.”

“Lily wasn't thinkin' straight.” Frona's face was solemn. “She's been lost in her own world for months.”

“Oh, sister.”

“I mean it. Think back to how she was after Mamma died. Remember?” Frona shook her head.

“I wonder if she has herself an English beau somewhere.” Considering some of Lily's comments, it certainly was plausible.

“Wouldn't she have told somebody?” Frona asked, wearing a worried expression. “At least
you
.”

Eva's heart pumped in her ears, but she rejected the urge to panic.
Lily's not familiar with the outside world.
“Surely we'll hear something from her soon.”