Ella's Wish (11 page)

“There are others who have had the same experience,” Ella said, but her voice trembled.

“Yah, but we’re not all the same. Look at me. Daniel has never even asked me to marry him. Sure, I know we’re for each other, but the waitin’ is hard sometimes. He should have been askin’ a long time ago. I expect Aden never had that problem.”

“He wanted to marry two years ago,” Ella said, feeling the tears sting her eyes. “It’s one of the sorrows of my heart—that I was never his wife and could have been if we hadn’t waited. It would have made it easier, I think, to have had his child with me now.”

“You mustn’t trouble yourself with such thoughts,” Arlene said, taking her arm with a firm grip. “You really mustn’t, Ella. Those eyes of yours are always on the stars. You and Aden would have had your share of troubles just like everyone else. Some of us have ours first, and some of us later. But they do come. They really do, Ella. So be thinkin’ about your life
now
. I know you won’t be left without an offer from some man who is worthy of you. And don’t be turnin’ away from it. Your mind must stay open even if your heart’s still a’hurtin’. It’ll be your lifelong regret if you don’t. Think of your mamm and daett, of your family, and of your children yet to come. You don’t want to get old all alone in that big house of yours with no man to ever comfort your heart.
Da Hah
has plans for you,” Arlene said, her voice now gentle.

“It’s just so hard,” Ella choked.

“I know it is. But you must not think you know best,” Arlene chided. “It’s better to walk the road one is given by
Da Hah.”

Surprise gripped her at Arlene’s words. She knew they were true but hadn’t expected to hear them. The visit had been to talk with Arlene about Daniel, not about her and Aden.

“Life has a lot of hurtin’ in it, but the angels came to help us. Did they not come when Aden died? It shows
Da Hah
is firmly in control.”

“I will try” was all Ella could say.

“Be thinkin’ about it,” Arlene said, squeezing her hand. “But I’m thinkin’ I’ve spoken too many words already, seein’ I’ve never walked your road. You will forgive me for my boldness?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Ella said through her tears. “I will try to make wise choices in the days ahead.”

“Then I’d best get back to my wash,” Arlene said, letting her hand drop and bending over to pick up the empty hamper.

“And I’d best be getting back to my duties.”

Ella walked toward the buggy, glancing back once, but Arlene had disappeared into the washroom. Nelson and Mervin must have heard her walk on the gravel because they came out of the barn with a shout. Ella’s horse jumped but quieted down under the brush of her hand.

“Sorry,” Nelson said, stopping Mervin with his hand. “We didn’t mean to scare your horse. Is he a new one?”

“New to me,” she said, forcing a smile.

“Those are the skittish ones,” Nelson said as if he knew all about horses. “Once you get to know them real well, they become much better.”

“You’re a horseman already,” Ella said with a laugh, untying the horse as the boys moved back toward the barn. This much they already knew, one did not stand too close when a buggy took off.

As she left, she waved at the two little bodies with their hands in their pockets and mischief in their eyes.

On the drive home, the conversation with Arlene kept playing in her head.
Do I really keep my eyes on the stars and not on the road in front of me? Am I really supposed to consider the bishop’s offer? Can love rise up from the earth to reach the heavens instead of coming down from the sky? Life was to be lived with my hand in Aden’s hand. Another man’s hand is simply unacceptable
.

Fourteen

T
he house on the corner of Chapman Road came into view. The white walls almost reached out, invited her in, and drew her to itself. Of course, no house made of wood and block could do that—even her own—but the emotion felt good. She was almost home. How quickly this had happened. Surely
Da Hah
had blessed her already with a refuge.

The troubling thoughts that had followed her from the conversation with Arlene fell away like dandelion fluff in the wind, floating away into nothing. She would think more about Arlene’s words later.

Ella eagerly unhitched the horse and turned him out to the pasture. He seemed glad to be back, kicking up his heels and tearing around the fence line. Ella watched him run. When the horse got to the back pasture, she went inside. With the front door shut behind her, the feeling of refuge now mixed with a sense of loneliness as she confronted the great silence in the rooms.

These rooms should be full of people; full of laughter and joy. These walls should be home to more than just one person. It’s too large, too beautiful, and too majestic to be lived in alone. Somehow I will fill it. Ronda and Joe are a good start. Beyond that it doesn’t matter. Today the answer came, and tomorrow I will receive the grace I will need for the future
.

There were bags to be unpacked. Ella wrestled with the suitcase as she dragged it upstairs.
How much easier things would be if Eli or Monroe were here to help
. With a final wrestle, she made it to the top. She picked the bedroom at the right with its open view of Chapman Road. The room would also look toward the sunrise.
What better way to begin each day of the new life before me?

Ella unpacked, deciding the bedroom across the hall would serve as her improvised kitchen since she still wasn’t convinced of Ronda’s basement-living suggestion. Still, to permanently fasten cabinets on these new walls seemed a shame. Instead she would place them on the floor, simply set up along the wall.

Buckets of water could be brought up the stairs and carried back down in the slop container. An occasional splash of dishwater tossed out the window was not beyond reason, especially at night when no one would see her. Ella wondered how many people threw dishwater out of their upstairs windows. She smiled at the thought. It didn’t seem very civilized.

Ella finished unpacking and went back downstairs. There was still time to do a load of wash since it was not yet one o’clock. If she hurried, the clothes would dry by dark. The wash line was strung up from the back porch to the windmill, which stood high in the air. Its tall blade turned slowly in the wind, creaking as water was pulled up and dumped into the holding tank. The horse drank from there. The rest of the water spilled onto the ground and could be diverted in summers to a rain-starved garden. An inch-wide black pipe ran underground to an outside spigot by the house. From there a bucket could be filled in spurts as the windmill turned and gravity carried the water toward the house.

Ella started the washing machine with two jerks of the starter rope. She added the soap once she found it in the grocery bags her mom had sent along in the move. An hour later, her wash was clipped to the line and flapping in the breeze. It would easily be dry before dusk.

As evening approached, Ella’s sense of loneliness increased again. All afternoon she had heard no noise, joined in no human conversation, nor seen another human face, and, besides the wash, she had completed no chores. With this strange silence came the memory of what Arlene had said.
Do I really have my eyes on the stars, thus missing the road at my feet?
Ella turned the question over all afternoon and was still considering it when she brought the wash in just as the last of the sun’s rays hung in the sky.

She ironed most of the pile of clothes as darkness fell. She lit the kerosene lamp, went to get the casserole from the basement, and heated it in the oven. While it warmed she added the jam, butter, and bread to the sparse table setting. Satisfied, Ella sat down to eat, bowing her head in silent prayer. Chewing slowly, she jumped when she heard the sound of buggy wheels suddenly rattling in the gravel outside and a horse blowing its nose loudly.

Surely Daniel has not returned to try his foolish love talk again. He had better sense than that
. She walked slowly to the front door, fear gripping her.
Is this the bishop? This soon? Come for his answer?
He was the last person she wished to see. What with Eli, her parents’ wishes, and now what Arlene had said, she couldn’t think straight enough to face the blaze of his blue eyes. Her legs were like water just thinking about it.

The firm knock came at the door, and Ella forced herself to answer. She opened it slowly but was unable to make out the face in the darkness. She saw just the shadow of a lengthy beard.
So, no, it isn’t Daniel
. With her heart heavy, she weakly said, “Come in.”

“Danki,” the familiar voice said.
No, it’s not the bishop either
. It was the voice from Aden’s funeral—the voice that had thundered condemnation against mankind’s sin, roared against youthful folly, and came from the one who was ready and able to use even the death of a good man for his own purposes.

“I’m alone,” Ella said, surprised she would say such a thing. Perhaps she responded to the man’s stance. He stood so vigilant against even the appearance of evil but was now ready to walk into a home alone with a woman who wasn’t his wife.

“Am I botherin’ you?” he asked, not moving from the porch.

“I was in the middle of supper,” she said.

“Then I’m sorry. I’ll come back later.”

“No,” she said, “there’s no need for that.”

What he wanted, Ella couldn’t imagine.
Surely Preacher Stutzman didn’t come with a marriage proposal
. The thought almost made her laugh, but she caught herself in time. He was, after all, Preacher Stutzman and not a man to bring laughter to a woman’s soul.

With his hat turning in his hand, he nodded and stepped shyly inside. Ella had a hard time with the change in the man.
He hardly seems to be the same person whose sermon had thundered at Aden’s funeral
.

“I won’t keep you long,” he said with a glance toward the food on the table. “Your supper will be gettin’ cold.”

“How are the girls?” Ella asked, wanting to place him at ease. Perhaps what had been said about him was true, that he was a man broken by his wife’s death.
If so, he must have loved her a great deal
, she thought with a twinge of compassion.

“They’re doin’ okay,” he said with some hesitation. “Sister Susanna helps out when she can. But it’s not the same since Lois passed. Nothin’s quite the same.” He stroked his beard gently. Ella noticed for the first time that his eyes were as blue as the bishop’s. Somehow during his preaching, his voice had always overshadowed any other part of him, particularly his eyes.

“I would think so,” she said, still wondering what could be the reason for his visit.

“The girls—” he said. “The other night when Mary had her earache spell, I was thinkin’ that something would have to be done about their continued care. Susanna already has her hands full, and I have my work on the farm. It’s more than enough to keep one man busy, and I can’t exactly afford to hire farm help. Yet the girls need watchin’ during the day and sometimes a visit to the clinic like Mary did for her ear.”

Ella felt her whole body stiffen.
So this is going to be another marriage proposal delivered like his sermons, like they were utterances from on high—straight, cold, and to the point
. The thought chilled her to her toes.
What does Preacher Stutzman think? That I will rush to my wedding day with him because his girls need a mother?

His voice continued. “I got to thinkin’ that perhaps there would be a way out for me, one that would please both my girls and you.” He glanced at her face but didn’t seem to see the anger rising in her eyes.

“See, I can afford to pay for their care but not farm-help wages. I suppose you think me a cheapskate.” A smile played on his face, his eyes remained focused on the floor, and his voice sounded apologetic. “But if I am, then I am. I cannot help it. But it would do my girls good to be taken care of by you. You are a responsible girl. You’re well brought up in our people’s ways. And I could trust them with you. Perhaps Monday through Friday? Just for a short time or until I can make other arrangements?”

The smile played on his face again, sad this time.

Ella’s mind raced to understand.
Preacher Stutzman wants me to care for his daughters, and he will pay for the service. He isn’t speaking of marriage
. Ella almost let out a sigh of relief.

“Would you consider it?” he asked in a voice just above a whisper.

“I…Well…Yah,” she replied, finding her voice, “it might be just what I am looking for.”

“Oh?”

“Ach, surely you know I’m needing to support myself. And I do have this big house.”

“I see,” he said, looking relieved.

“Oh,” Ella said, remembering, “I should tell you that Ronda and Joe are moving into the first floor after their wedding. I’ll be upstairs or in the basement. But perhaps that would even work better since Ronda could help with the girls sometimes.”

His face brightened. “That does look like
Da Hah’s
hand, and I’m pleased. So you can start next week?”

“Next week?” Ella asked. Her mind started spinning as she considered this new direction. “Of course. There’s no reason why not.”

“I will bring them Monday mornin’, then. And I hope your supper isn’t cold.” He nodded, reached for the knob behind him, and backed out of the room, shutting the door after himself.

Ella stood still, staring after him.
Amazing
.

Fifteen

E
lla allowed the memory of Preacher’s Stutzman’s girls at their mother’s funeral to swim before her eyes. They seemed to be lost in a haze of incomprehension. She sat down at the kitchen table, but her uneaten food had lost its appeal. The casserole would be long cold now, but it didn’t matter. Her mind was no longer on food. Before her the small faces of the girls refused to fade. She was to care for them.
Is this an answer to prayer, an answer to my need?