Ella's Wish (Little Valley 2) Page 4

  “Will you come along to the sale barn and select mine?” Ella had asked her dad.

  “You know I would,” he said, shaking his head, “but I just can’t get away today. Eli can go along, though.”

  “Yah, I can take care of it,” Eli said, delighting his father.

  “Like I trust you,” Ella had told him with a touch of sarcasm, but he came anyway, sure of his prowess.

  “That one,” Eli said, pointing toward a high-spirited gelding prancing into the ring, led tightly by its handler. “It will outrace the best of them on Sunday evenings. It will last you for years with plenty of speed and stamina.”

  “I told you I don’t trust you,” Ella had said much to his chagrin. Thankfully there were other opinions available. She left Eli and walked across the bleachers to where Daniel stood with his dad.

  “What do you think?” she had asked the man who would have been her father-in-law. “I need a good driving horse, and Eli’s got some high-spirited thing in mind for me. I don’t want one that runs away from me or won’t go when I want it to either.”

  “We just saw a nice gelding back in the barn. Number 305,” Daniel said, and his dad nodded in agreement. “The price may go a little high, but the horse is worth every penny.”

  “Like a good man,” Daniel’s dad said. “I think you’re right son.”

  Ella had followed Daniel’s advice, to the consternation of her brother.

  “Every other horse will pass that one on the road,” Eli said, his nose turned up while she bid.

  Ella smiled at the memory. He, of course had been wrong. The little gelding had plenty of speed.

  Ella finally found the ax and walked back behind the house. Daniel had been so right about the horse. How could he, then, be so wrong about my feelings? Have I ever thoughtlessly encouraged him? Last night the question had seemed answered, but now the strangeness of it all came to her again. She stopped and looked long at the dawning sky. My relationship with Daniel has always been that of a brother—Aden’s brother. Never have I given him reason to think otherwise.

  Ella sighed, placed the first piece of wood on the chopping block, and brought the ax down. The world is a strange place, and people don’t always do what I expect them to do. God doesn’t always do what I expect, and so how can earthen vessels, as the preachers says, be held to a higher standard? She opened up the little doorway on the side of the house and tossed the pieces of wood inside. They landed with a thump.

  Clara’s faint voice called from inside, “Shall I start the fire?”

  “You’ll be needing kindling,” Ella hollered back. “I’ll split some in a minute.”

  “Yah,” Clara answered.

  With her ax in hand, Ella carefully took little slivers off the sides of a block of wood. Her left hand held the block firmly in place as her thumb and fingers wrapped around the side. The ax rose and fell, and she trembled slightly. She had always disliked chopping kindling. One slip and the ax struck one’s hand, laying the flesh wide open.

  Dora and Ella could have left the cutting of kindling to their dad or to Eli and Monroe, but they chose to do it themselves. It was a part of their world and, thus, worthy of mastery. Still, Ella’s hand twitched with fear, even after all these years. The ax was so large, the wood piece became ever smaller, and her hand was always just inches away.

  After a few more chops, she finished and tossed the little pieces through the doorway. She then walked around the corner of the house and set the ax inside the porch. She stopped for a moment again and studied the just-risen sun over the valley. It glowed red now, flaming large with still no clouds in sight. Peace filled her, even with the knowledge of what the day might hold. God was still in charge of His world. Her faith declared it, and her heart refused to abandon the belief.

  Clara had the fire going when Ella entered the kitchen. The flames already reached out greedily for more fuel. Ella checked over Clara’s shoulder and was satisfied things had been done correctly. Now, everything will be fine just so long as the chimney doesn’t burn down. Wouldn’t that be something! I certainly wouldn’t want to burn down the house on the very first full day here. Ella pushed the thought aside and went to retrieve the eggs from the basement. The stair boards were brand new and wider than their basement stairs at home.

  “The new codes require it,” Daniel had said when she noticed the difference.

  The eggs wouldn’t keep long in her basement, even back in the darkest corner of the root cellar where a patch of concrete had been left out. Eventually she would need ice stored here, covered with sawdust, but for now, eggs and other perishables could be kept in small quantities.

  Ella selected what she wanted and went quickly up the steps, walked to the kitchen, and set the eggs on the counter. Clara immediately began cracking the eggs into a bowl. After she cracked the half dozen eggs, she whipped them vigorously with the hand beater and added salt and pepper. With a twirl of her hand, she poured them into the pan and over the dab of melting butter. The pan sizzled and popped. Clara split the eggs into smaller chunks with the hand spatula. Then, only minutes later, she flipped the results out of the pan.

  “Now isn’t that the way to make eggs?” Clara’s eyes glowed. “This is truly fit for kings and queens.”

  Ella laughed. “I think I do agree with you, but you’ll never convince Daett, let me promise you that.”

  “It’s enough that I convince you,” Clara said, smacking her lips.

  From how the result looked on the plate, Clara knew how to make scrambled eggs. The water boiled moments later, and Ella poured in the oatmeal, stirring slowly so the mixture wouldn’t stick on the bottom. When the oatmeal was ready, Ella waved her hand toward the table and asked, “Shall we eat? The sisters two!”

  Clara giggled her answer and sat down. After a silent prayer, Ella waited for Clara to start.

  “You taste them first,” Clara said.

  Ella raised her eyebrows. Clara nodded sharply. Ella shrugged, placed a sample of eggs onto her plate, and then took a taste.

  “Not as good as fried eggs but good for scrambled eggs,” she teased.

  Clara relaxed and took a large helping of eggs, pulling them onto the plate with her fork, then filled her oatmeal bowl, and placed a big dab of brown sugar on top. Carefully she stirred in milk and then buttered a piece of bread.

  “It’s good,” Ella said. “It really is.”

  “I’m going to just take my time,” Clara said. She took her first bite of eggs and chewed slowly while holding a thick slice of well-buttered, homemade bread in the other hand. “Mmmm, this couldn’t be better.”

  “I think I do agree,” Ella said, her eyes turning to the living room window as a buggy came up the road from the south. The horse trotted slowly against the grade, passing the house and moving on down the road. It was a delightful sight—and sound. This was going to be home for her. She could begin to feel it.

  The sisters finished at the same time, and as Ella washed the dishes, Clara swept the kitchen floor and made sure the stove was properly banked. They walked out together to harness the horse, which had stuck his head over the stall door and was glad to see them. Clara rubbed his nose while Ella threw the harness on and tightened the straps. His bridle went on easily—another of his good points. Horses could be downright stubborn when it came to such things. Nasty ones clenched their teeth or shook their heads from side to side.

  Ella led him outside while Clara shut the barn door behind them.

  “He’s a nice horse,” Clara said, holding up the shafts of the buggy.

  “Daniel picked a good one,” Ella agreed.

  “He’s gut with such things.”

  “Yah, he is,” Ella said. Would Clara still think Daniel was gut if she knew about his visit last night? Clara is a little young for such information. Likely she would blame me for a lost opportunity rather than Daniel for his muddled state of mind. I guess Daniel’s visit best remain my secret.

  Clara climbed in and held the r
eins as the horse stood patiently until Ella had climbed in.

  “Getup,” she said softly, slapping the reins. The gelding threw his head in the air and took off with a jaunty air.

  “He is a nice horse,” Clara said, smiling.

  “A real nice horse,” Ella said as they pulled out of the driveway, wondering whether everyone had as many secrets as she did.

  Seven

  They drove south and turned east at the river. A fog hung heavy along the banks, making a mist that increased the early summer morning chill. Ella searched for and found the light buggy blanket under the seat. Clara pulled it up well over her knees.

  “I don’t like this spooky weather,” she whispered.

  “It’s just the clouds come down low.” Ella smiled. “Aden always liked a fog along the river, and I think I learned to enjoy it from him.”

  “Not everyone’s like Aden.”

  “I know,” Ella said, feeling her mood dip. She slapped the reins, and the horse responded quickly enough by settling into a steady climb up from the river. They broke out of the mist to see the crest of Seager Hill in front of them.

  Her parents’ place sat on the ridge, surrounded by Amish farms on either side. A sweep of the valley opened toward the east and west to the low mountains. Ella had always loved the place.

  “Mamm will be lookin’ for us with all the work that’s to be done,” Clara said.

  “I know.” Ella slapped the reins again. “I think I’ll stay awhile and help out. Perhaps I can make up for the use of you last night.”

  “I wanted to stay,” Clara said, “and I hope Mamm lets me come some more—even often.”

  Ella agreed with a nod of her head, pulled to a stop at the bottom of the valley, and then turned left. The horse slowed on the climb up the hill, but Ella was glad to see he wasn’t winded as they pulled into the driveway.

  While Clara held the shafts, Ella unhitched the horse because she planned to stay at least till noon. Clara waited until Ella returned from the barn, and together they walked toward the house. Ella expected their mom to meet them at the door, or perhaps Dora would. She hadn’t been gone so long but that their arrival still warranted some level of interest.

  With no one to greet them, Clara walked on in without a knock. Ella supposed she would have done the same, and yet the feeling was a strange one now that she didn’t live at home. Do I just walk in without notice? I suppose so. Some things are just like that—home, family, and where one belongs. They grip the heart with roots that can hardly be dislodged. It’s the way things are supposed to be.

  Ella followed Clara into the silent house. Surely her mom was close by, occupied with some task, which kept her from a friendly greeting at the front door.

  Through the familiar living room opening, the muffled cries they heard stopped them short. Clara glanced at Ella but said nothing. When Ella stepped forward, Clara followed. Cautiously, Ella entered the living room to find her mom and Dora seated on the couch. Mamm held her handkerchief tightly. Her tears were thick on her cheeks, and a muffled sob still hung in the air.

  “What’s wrong?” Ella gasped while a hundred fears raced through her mind. Has there been another accident? Has Daett been injured? Maybe Eli or Monroe? Since there was no sign of her two brothers or dad, she expected the worse.

  “Sit down,” Mamm said, motioning with her hand. “We have just been brought news—something I never imagined possible. A terrible thing has happened. Eli’s seein’ an Englisha girl.”

  Ella’s mind raced. Obviously Dora did not bring the news, I haven’t yet confessed to prior knowledge, and so who brought the news? Ella imagined her face was a picture of guilt and was thankful her mom’s eyes were occupied.

  “Aunt Sarah stopped by,” Dora volunteered as she set her hand protectively on her mother’s shoulder. Ella wanted to ask Dora the obvious question but didn’t dare. Dora, as if she understood, glanced up and shook her head.

  “I just can’t believe this! My Eli. And the oldest boy. Why would he have done such a thing? Settin’ such an example for the rest of the family. And with no warnin’ at all. It’s like the sky dropped on our heads.”

  “Has Daett been told?” Ella asked, her guilt becoming stronger. Perhaps I should make my confession before Daett arrives.

  “We haven’t sent anyone to call them in,” Mamm said. “Daett’s out in the fields with Eli and Monroe now. The day is completely full of work already with the hay just ready to bale this morning. We are supposed to help load soon—probably starting before lunch. If we say something now, it will end the day’s work.”

  “Mamm, I have something I’d best be tellin’ you first,” Ella said quietly, so softly her mom apparently didn’t hear. Dora looked wildly at her and vigorously shook her head.

  Ella felt she must do what was right. Confession was good for the soul, especially in this situation. She gathered herself to speak louder this time, but Mamm spoke first.

  “This will break Daett’s heart,” her mom said with a trembling voice. “His first born son is visiting an Englisha girl.”

  “He was seen leaving town with her Friday night,” Dora said, clearly hoping Ella had said all she planned to. “He tied his horse at the Quality Market, and they went out somewhere together in her car.”

  “It will be all over the world before long,” Mamm said in despair.

  “Aunt Sarah won’t spread this around,” Dora assured her. “She wouldn’t.”

  “Maybe not,” Mamm agreed, “but someone else will see him. They may have already done so.”

  Ella decided it was confession time, regardless of the consequences. Dora might not feel guilty, but she did. Her dad would have to be told eventually, and things would only go harder for her and Dora if this came out later.

  She cleared her throat, but Dora read her face and spoke first. “No one’s to blame for this. Really, they aren’t. We couldn’t have done anything about it.”

  “It falls on our shoulders. Me and Daett,” Mamm whispered. “If only we’d known earlier. He must have been seeing her for some time, it would seem.”

  “I knew,” Ella said, kneeling down in front of her mom, placing her hands on her knees. “I knew some time ago that Eli was up to something but thought it best to not say anything. I thought Eli might come to his senses.”

  “You knew?” Her mom’s handkerchief fell from her hand, and her eyes searched Ella’s face.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ella whispered. “Eli’s so stubborn about these things.”

  “Did you help him?”

  Ella shook her head.

  “I knew too,” Dora spoke up. “We both thought Eli wouldn’t go this far and that the matter would stay with just talk.”

  “Perhaps you’d best be telling me everything,” their mom said, sitting upright. “Should Clara leave the room?”

  Ella shook her head again. “There’s not much to say. And Clara can stay.”

  “Then tell me quickly and don’t be leavin’ anything out.”

  Ella got up from the floor and stood weakly in front of her mom. Her heart felt heavy with guilt. Her judgment of Eli hadn’t been correct.

  “Perhaps I should speak,” Dora offered.

  Mamm said, “No, I want to hear Ella. The oldest had best tell the story.”

  As always, Ella thought, the duty of age comes down with a crash. I am the oldest girl and so held to a higher degree of responsibility. She cleared her throat, but the words still came out of her mouth with great difficulty.

  “I first learned of Eli’s attraction to the Englisha nurse after he came home from the hospital.”

  “That long ago.” Mamm’s voice was a whisper.

  Ella continued. “He told me her name was Pam. He said he had invited her to stop by on her way home from work to check up on him while he was still sick in bed…since she lives north of here somewhere.”

  “She came to my house? When I was not at home?”

  Ella felt guilt grip her hard and take her b
reath away. Back then the decision had seemed the right thing. Now, with Mamm’s pale face in front of her, she trembled. This had not been her house to allow such privileges, yet she had done so.

  “She came when you were at the funeral of David’s girlfriend,” she managed. “I didn’t know she would come, and Eli had seemed uncertain himself.”

  “But she did come.” Her mom shifted on the couch, and her fingers reached for the handkerchief on the floor.

  “That day she did stop by,” Ella said, “in her nurse’s uniform, and so I figured she just wanted to check up on Eli. I couldn’t just turn her away. I figured Eli would get over her if he saw her again.”

  “You made this decision by yourself?”

  “I’m sorry,” Ella whispered. “It looks different now, and I know now I should have told you. I did try to persuade Eli. I really did. I spoke long and hard with him.”

  “You tried to instruct your brother?” her mom asked, standing to her feet. “I’m ashamed of you, Ella. I thought we taught you better than that. Have the lessons of our leaders no meanin’ to you? In these spiritual things—in matters of Scripture and the tradition of the fathers—it is not up to us women to teach the men. We will always fail. As you have failed. Do you not know this? The matter belonged to your daett…by the design of Da Hah Himself. Do you not know that after all these years?”

  Ella’s face burned like fire, and she could say nothing in her defense.

  “I knew too,” Dora offered in what Ella knew was an attempt to share blame. She felt a rush of emotion at her sister’s thoughtfulness.

  “Ella is the oldest girl,” her mom said, “and she shares the greatest blame. But, yes, you should have known better too, Dora. I am ashamed of both of you. Let this be a lesson for you, Clara, and let it be a good one. This is what happens when women step outside of Da Hah’s place for us. You must never be teachin’ and sayin’ these matters to the men.”

  Mamm sat down suddenly on the couch. Her face was drawn up in pain.

  “But you tell Daett things,” Clara said. “I hear you all the time.”