Ella's Wish (Little Valley 2)

  ELLA’S

  WISH

  Amish fiction by Jerry Eicher…

  The Adams County Trilogy

  Rebecca’s Promise

  Rebecca’s Return

  Rebecca’s Choice

  Hannah’s Heart collection

  A Dream for Hannah

  A Hope for Hannah

  A Baby for Hannah

  (JULY 2011)

  Little Valley Series

  A Wedding Quilt for Ella

  Ella’s Wish

  Ella Find’s Love Again

  (SEPTEMBER 2011)

  ELLA’S

  WISH

  JERRY S. EICHER

  HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS

  EUGENE, OREGON

  Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover photos © Chris Garborg

  Cover by Garborg Design Works, Savage, Minnesota

  ELLA’S WISH

  Copyright © 2011 by Jerry S. Eicher

  Published by Harvest House Publishers

  Eugene, Oregon 97402

  www.harvesthousepublishers.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Eicher, Jerry S.

  Ella’s wish / Jerry Eicher.

  p. cm. — (Little Valley series; bk. 2)

  ISBN 978-0-7369-2805-2 (pbk.)

  1. Amish—Fiction. 2. Loss (Psychology)—Fiction. 3. Motherless families—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3605.I34E45 2011

  813’.6—dc22

  2010021573

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Printed in the United States of America

  11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 /BP-SK/ 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Contents

  Amish fiction by Jerry Eicher…

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Thirty-three

  Thirty-four

  Thirty-five

  Thirty-six

  Thirty-seven

  Thirty-eight

  Thirty-nine

  Forty

  Forty-one

  Forty-two

  Discussion Questions

  About Jerry Eicher…

  More Amish fiction from Jerry Eicher…

  AmishReader.com

  One

  Ella Yoder looked to the south through the living room window of her new home. Chapman Road made its way through the gently rolling hills and was lined with the Amish farms and businesses of Cattaraugus County. Thick clouds, faintly tinged with the red of the setting sun, hung on the horizon. After a moment she moved to the couch and sat beside her sister Clara.

  “It’s been such a long day,” she said, leaning back and trying to relax.

  Clara nodded. “And now you’re in your very own house. It doesn’t seem possible.”

  “And unpacked,” Ella added with a sigh, realizing she felt not just tired but older and alone.

  That morning her daett had said, “I hope you make it well on this wild idea of yours.” Then with his eyes twinkling, he had added, “You’ll always be welcome back home.”

  And so she would be, and that was gut, was it not? It was just that tonight was one of those unexpected times when her heartache returned with a vengeance. Aden, her betrothed, was gone from her life—suddenly dead. And then, the money he had saved for their house had been used to build this, her house. Aden’s brother, Daniel, had insisted that’s what Aden would have wanted.

  Tonight she was finally in her house. It should have been their house. Ella could still see Aden’s face, with his eyes aglow with joy, in stark relief on the walls of her mind. Oh, if the memory were not the only thing left of him. What would it be like to really see his face again, to know what I had loved, and to forget that I had ever lost him?

  “You’re sad tonight,” Clara whispered, “but you’re in your new house, and it’s a really nice one.”

  “Yah,” Ella whispered back, “it is a nice big house. It’s just that I’m thinking of Aden and how much I wish he could be here to share it with me. I never want to leave.”

  Clara moved closer to Ella. “It will be lonely here for you. You know I’d like to come and live with you all the time. Would that help?”

  “I would love that,” Ella said, squeezing Clara in a hug, “but you know that can’t be. You’re just out of school, and Daett needs you at the farm, especially since I’m not there. He couldn’t manage with two of us gone.”

  Clara smiled faintly. “Well, at least my drawing was used to build the house—my drawing and Daniel’s help.”

  “Yah,” Ella said, trying to smile, “your drawing inspired this house.” She looked over to the wedding quilt with Clara’s drawing as the centerpiece. “It was a very gut drawing.”

  “I’ve decided I’m going to draw some more,” Clara said. “Of course, I won’t draw in school since Katie still wouldn’t like it, but I can do it somewhere else. I just love to make up stories and draw.”

  “Maybe you can write true stories someday about the life of our people,” Ella said, adding “Just don’t write about me.”

  “No, I won’t. Besides, now I wouldn’t know what to write about you.”

  “I suppose not. My life shall be a quiet one, I imagine,” Ella said.

  “You’ll find a nice man again someday,” Clara offered. “This house needs a man.”

  Ella shook her head. “That’s what I don’t want. And, besides, there’s no one out there like Aden and never will be.” Determined to change the subject, Ella said, “Now shall we eat some of Mamm’s casserole? It’s late already, and I’m sure you’re hungry.”

  “Yah,” Clara said, pushing herself up from the couch.

  The two sisters moved to the kitchen. Ella brought out the casserole as Clara stretched to reach the plates in the upper cupboard.

  “I’ll have those moved lower for you later. I want you to visit often.”

  “You know I’ll come anyway,” Clara said, bringing the two plates to the table.

  “It would be good to have everything down lower, anyway. With so few dishes, they look lonely up there all by themselves. Kind of like me, I suppose.”

  “That’s why I said you need a man,” Clara said, teasing, “but I know what you’re going to say.”

  “I’m too old,” Ella said. “Is that what you were expecting?”

  “Too old? You’re only twenty-two. And, no, I wasn’t expecting that excuse. You have to stop making excuses, Ella.”

  “Th
at’s awful big advice coming from a fourteen-year-old, don’t you think?”

  “Not if it’s true.”

  Ella carried the casserole to the table, placed a large spoon beside it, and then waited for Clara to join her.

  Somehow I will make it through life. First comes tonight, then tomorrow, and then day by day, I’ll move through the years ahead. Whatever pain happens, it will just have to be. I’ll be lonely, yes, but this house will become my refuge, mine and perhaps my brother Eli’s if he follows through with his plans with that Englisha nurse.

  Eli had an awful stubborn streak in him when it involved things of the heart. Maybe Eli has forgotten about Pam by now. Ella hoped so. We simply cannot lose him to the world.

  “Ach,” Ella said, lost in her thoughts. “I’m so absentminded tonight. I’ve got so many things on my mind.”

  “It was a hard day,” Clara said. “We could both use some sleep.”

  “We should pray, then,” Ella said as she sat down and bowed her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Clara follow. Her father wasn’t there to lead out, and she waited in the silence. Does a woman dare pray out loud without a male present? Isn’t that an awful violation of tradition? A few moments of silence later, she glanced up to see that Clara had already raised her head.

  The fact would just have to be accepted that prayers could not be said in the house—at least, not out-loud ones. The desire to hear them would have to remain unfulfilled. So many of the other experiences would be lost too, like seeing Aden’s eyes when he first saw her on Sundays or feeling his arms around her in one of his precious hugs. Nothing could be done about it.

  Life swirls heavily around me. I can feel it tonight. It is in the sound of the wind under the house’s soffits and in the noise the little legs of the couch made when Eli and Monroe pushed it into place on the hardwood floor. It is in the vast emptiness of the upstairs bedrooms and the huge basement beneath. The rooms are unfilled, unlived in, and waiting. Life wants something from me, but what? It’s even in Clara’s eyes, lifted to me with expectation. Clara thinks I am capable, energetic, and a safe guide for her journey to adulthood. She looks to me to be an interpreter of Amish peculiarities, offering her sense when life seems senseless. Yet I am only Ella—simple Ella with a heart that beats in broken rhythms.

  I loved a man with all of my heart, and Da Hah—for reasons only He understands—has taken him from me. I still believe in Da Hah for many reasons, some of which are the same incomprehensible reasons I’ve grown up with, but mainly because He is God. One doesn’t go around throwing taunts at the Almighty. Does my faith not demand it? Even more and on a deeper level, does my heart not demand it?

  “You don’t like Mamm’s casserole?” Clara asked, puzzled. “You haven’t eaten anything.”

  “Ach, of course,” Ella said, grabbing her spoon. “Silly me. Mamm’s food is always good. My mind was somewhere else, that’s all.”

  The casserole tasted like home. It melted in her mouth and brought back the memories of what she had just left—her mom, her room upstairs, the morning rush, the evening chores, the smell of the barn, and the joys of life on Seager Hill.

  Ella saw that Clara was watching her and felt the need to say, “I’m going to cry yet, just like the bobli I am. Mamm’s casserole has me thinking about home.”

  Clara laughed. “If that’s all that’s bothering you, you’ll be okay. I’ve felt like that sometimes, like the time I stayed overnight at cousin Emma’s house for the first time.”

  “But I’m older than you are,” Ella said.

  “Maybe,” Clara allowed, “but that just means you’ll get over it sooner.”

  “Perhaps.” Ella forced a smile. “I’m glad you’re here for the first night.”

  “And I’ll come back some more,” Clara said with a chirp, “as often as Mamm lets me.”

  “I’ll have you. That’s for sure.” Ella didn’t have to force a smile. She thickly buttered a piece of fresh bread that had been made that morning before they left with the spring wagon for the move. Ella mounded on the raspberry jam and then wondered whether she could actually eat the whole piece. It looked huge in her hand.

  Carefully she lifted the bread to her mouth. The rich aroma of bread flooded her senses, and the jam exploded with flavor in her mouth. The creamy butter mellowed the tang of the berries, and the whole mouthful became a sensuous delight as she slowly chewed. Suddenly, the piece of bread no longer looked too large. It looked much too small. She could go on eating buttered homemade bread and raspberry jam all night.

  “Ach, that helps a lot,” Ella whispered between the next bites.

  Clara smiled and said, “I think I’ll have a piece myself.”

  She prepared the bread quickly. A pleased expression spread over her face even before she bit into it. They chewed together in rapturous silence and then burst into laughter.

  “Well,” Ella said, “that makes one feel much better, and now we don’t even have a lot of dishes. So why don’t I do them while you’re off to bed.”

  “It’s still early,” Clara protested, “and I want to read. I’m too excited to sleep.”

  “Another thirty minutes,” Ella said, giving way. “I guess there are no chores tomorrow morning, but we’re still getting up early. I’m not forming any bad habits just because we’re not at home.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. I know you too well for that.” Clara laughed and carried her dish to the sink. Ella dipped cold water from the bucket into the sink while Clara nestled down on the couch. Tomorrow she would light a fire in the stove. Tonight soapy cold water was good enough. Ella finished the few dishes and then walked over to check on what Clara was reading. Unable to see, Ella lifted the jacket up to glance underneath.

  “Nee!” she exclaimed. “What is this? The Adventures of Tom Sawyer? Where did you get the book?”

  “It’s not bad,” Clara protested. “Eli said it wasn’t, and he got it for me. I just brought it along to read.”

  “I know what it is, but where did Eli get it?”

  “The library.”

  “Does Daett know he goes to the library?”

  Clara shrugged. “Mamm’s seen me reading it, and she didn’t say anything.”

  Ella’s mind whirled. What business does Eli have at the library in Randolph? None, that I know of. He is almost eighteen and never has been much of a reader, and it is highly unlikely he has suddenly become one. My brother is up to no good, and it takes little imagination to figure out what that is.

  Two

  Ella lit the gas lantern and hung it on the nail in the kitchen ceiling. In the silence of the house, its soft gush of sound filled the room. Clara, on the verge of sleepiness, sat on the couch. Every now and then, her copy of Tom Sawyer would tilt downward and then jerk back up again. Ella returned to the kitchen table as thoughts of Eli’s possible actions rushed through her head.

  It has to be Eli who has filled Clara’s young mind with such things. Not that Tom Sawyer causes any serious trouble with Amish traditions—Mamm would have taken the book away if it had. The problem is with what else Eli is doing in the library.

  There can only be one possible answer and it is the Englisha girl, Pam. Eli has obviously made further contact with her and determined the safest place to meet is the Randolph library. Ella hadn’t been in the library that often, but she knew the layout of the place. From the main entrance, the bookshelves extended in both directions. There are plenty of places to act like you had found a book and page through it while in conversation with someone else. On the slim chance an Amish person saw you, it would look quite innocent.

  How like Eli, with his stubborn mind, to go and push things to the edge. If caught in this deception, it would be more serious because Eli was a conscientious boy who planned to start instruction class this fall.

  Not all the youth joined church this early, but Eli wanted to. Apparently his heart wasn’t totally in the effort, or else he had been seriously sidetracked. Which was correc
t, she wasn’t certain, but this situation wasn’t needed. I have enough problems to deal with already. Problems like how I am supposed to support myself. Distracted, she scribbled figures on the paper in front of her. None of the totals that came up looked acceptable.

  There was still some money left from when the house burned in the midst of the construction project. The Amish community, their compassion stirred by her already great loss, rebuilt the house on two Saturday frolics.

  Also, the possibility of marriage to young Bishop Wayne Miller would mean an adequate income. His unexpected proposal hung heavy on the horizon. He would return soon for her answer, and she needed to be ready to give it.

  After Aden’s death, she would have been fine climbing into a hole and pulling dirt right down on top of herself. Instead, life had gone on as usual. Days turned into nights, the chores still needed to be done, and family life continued. Then it all changed.

  She often wondered what Bishop Miller was thinking by approaching her so soon. Am I a rubber band he can just stretch out however he pleases? She was surprised at the nerve of the bishop, coming over and stating his intentions while her heart still throbbed with pain.

  He had said he would give her time to heal and would return for an answer in six months. That would soon be up. The thought caused Ella to shiver in the early evening chill. Bishop is a good-looking man—there is no doubt about that. He’s almost as handsome as Aden. She could admit that much without any disloyalty to Aden’s memory, but beyond that she was not prepared to go.

  “Bishop Miller’s attentions are a great honor,” Dora had reminded her last week. “Just think how quickly he came over. I think it’s a sure sign of Da Hah’s hand in the thing.”

  “I don’t think so,” Ella had retorted. “I wished he’d have left me alone. I was just fine the way I was.”

  “You were not,” Dora said. “You haven’t been right since Aden passed. Now with this fresh start offered to you, the good days could start again. You’d be happy and cheerful, like you used to be. He’s a gut one to love, Ella. He really is.”