Ella Finds Love Again (18 page)

“Is that all?”

“Yah.” Ella searched Ronda’s face, waiting. “So what do you think?”

“It could be serious, I guess. Especially the tobacco thing. I know Daett doesn’t like it either, but they’ve never said anything to him about it.”

“He’s not a preacher, and Ivan thinks there might be scriptural grounds against tobacco use.”

“He told Bishop Miller that?”

“Yah
…
or Bishop Miller got it out of him somehow.”

“I don’t know,” Ronda said. “I think Ivan can handle himself. I don’t think you need to worry.”

“So you think it’s reasonable?”

“Of course not. These things happen though, and they’re mostly never reasonable. But I don’t think Bishop Miller would do something like trying to break you two up using church trouble. That would be really lowdown, don’t you think?”

Ella drew a long breath. “Ronda, if I tell you something else, will you promise to tell no one? I mean
no one
!” Ella whispered. “Not even Joe.”

“So there’s more to this. I thought so,” Ronda said, touching Ella’s hand.

“Do you remember the
Englisha
man who came through here a while back?”

Ronda nodded. “The good lookin’ one.”

“Yah,” Ella said. “I didn’t tell you, but he said he wanted to join the Amish. He was asking me who he could contact about joining, and I sent him over to Bishop Miller. I told him such a thing just wasn’t done and figured that would be the end to the matter.”

“That makes sense. I would have said the same thing.”

“Well, he’s still here. I went up to Bishop Miller’s meeting today and saw the
Englisha
man in church. He was in full Amish dress, and everyone’s talking highly of him. He’s learnin’ the language and staying at Bishop Miller’s place. He clearly has Bishop Miller’s full support.”

“Why would Bishop Miller take such a big chance? If the
Englisha
man fails, the bishop won’t live that down for a long time.”

Ella wondered if she dare venture on. Did her sins need to be brought to the light? “Ronda, there’s more.” She hesitated for only a moment, then let it out. “Ronda, the truth is that this
Englisha
man…he gave me the same feelin’s Aden used to. It happened that day he was here, and that’s why I helped him out and gave him lunch. I thought it wouldn’t go anywhere, that I’d never see him again. But I’m worried Bishop Miller has figured it out. Maybe Robert even said something to him.”

“Oh, Ella,” Ronda laughed, “that doesn’t make sense at all. Bishop Miller wouldn’t do something like that.”

“I don’t know,” Ella said, trying to catch her breath. “So you think this is all my imagination?”

“Really, Ella, it is. It must be.” Ronda touched her hand again. “You can’t suddenly have feelings for a man you don’t know, and an
Englisha
man at that. I think you and Ivan need to get married as soon as possible. It’s not
gut
for a woman your age to be alone. If you want me to, I can get help from someone. Tell them what is going on. Perhaps I could speak to your mamm or daett.”

“My daett?” Ella gasped. “
Nee!
After what Eli has done? He’d think another of his children has fallen for an
Englisha
for sure. No, I can’t have him knowing any of this. He might die before his time, and it would be my fault. This can’t go any further than you, Ronda. I’m not going to do to Daett what Eli did, I promise you.”

“Come…come,” Ronda said, stroking her arm. “It’s not really as bad as you might think. Once you and Ivan have said your vows, you’ll be safe and sound in his arms.”

“I keep telling myself that,” Ella said, trying to breathe normally. “But what if this church trouble sticks? And they might just make it stick. Then there will be no wedding plans because everything will stop dead in its tracks.”

“
Ach
…” Ronda shook her head. “There will be a way around this. Ivan isn’t dumb. He’ll know what to do with Bishop Miller.”

“But what about my heart?” Ella asked, laying her hand on her chest.

“Your heart has been broken…greatly broken,” Ronda said. “It still needs a lot of healing, and Ivan can help you with that. You need to be loved by a man, Ella. It does a woman
gut
.”

The front door swung open and Joe entered. He bellowed, “Are those twisty things done yet?”

“Not so loud!” Ronda chided with a smile.

Joe came over to the table, took off his coat, and took the two twists Ronda offered him. They disappeared quickly into his mouth. With a look of delight he helped himself to another before taking his chair.

Ella stood to finish up in the kitchen while Joe and Ronda talked about their plans for the next week.

The girls would return. Ella wondered if Ivan would say anything to her about his troubles when he brought them. Likely not.

“I’m leaving you the food, Ronda,” Ella said as she finished. “I suppose Joe can store it where you want it.”

“He can. And thanks so much,” Ronda said.

Ella left them, finding her way downstairs in the darkness by the feel of her hands. She struck a match at the counter and lit the kerosene lamp. Wearily she sat down at the table and, in the flickering light, Ella stared at the wall. Her heart pounded furiously now that she was alone…and remembering the face of the
Englisha
man.

Twenty-one

U
nable to sleep, Ella paced the floor, her thoughts spinning wildly. Above her she heard faint shuffled steps, probably Joe helping Ronda to their bedroom. He was a good man.
Da Hah
had blessed Ronda when Joe came into her life.
Will I ever have such a blessing in my life again?

There had been Aden, but
Da Hah
took him. Now there was Ivan and his girls. They were surely a blessing. But then there was the
Englisha
man. Could she ever think of him as a blessing? No, she could not. She thought of Eli. What would happen if she went down the same path he had taken? Her family would be disgraced twice over. An Amish boy’s transgressions with a forbidden girl were at least understood. An Amish girl who fell for an outsider was not soon forgotten, her name a blot on the family forever.

Did this
Englisha
man Robert even care for her? Ella steeled herself at the question. It had no meaning whatsoever. It could never be. She would have to depend on the girls to keep her from the insanity of giving life to the idea of loving an
Englisha
man. Would they be enough to stop her wayward thoughts?

She despised herself for this weakness, for this reliance on innocents to right her world. Where was Aden when she needed him? She sat down. The house around her was still now, no sound coming from Joe and Ronda upstairs. They must be asleep—at peace, while she wrestled alone. The unfairness of her situation brought tears that stung her cheeks. Ella wiped them away angrily.

What was worth anything? Loyalty? Trust? Love? And what was love? Ivan at least had his dreams of Lois. She had nothing but memories, and now even they seemed distant.

She gazed at the lamp. The flame was constant yet moving, as if it were alive. She watched for a long moment and then stood to pace the floor. What was it about Aden that she had loved? The answer lay in the memories, but did she really wish to go there? Perhaps it would be best to bury them and think only of the present.

With a flourish, she loosened her hair, pulled the wire pins out, and ran her fingers through its full length. Her hair flowed over her shoulders, a dark mass that gleamed in the lamplight as it extended past her waist. She would not stay away from what she’d loved. Aden was gone, yah, but he had shown her the way to love. He had left her that much, and there was nothing to be ashamed of.

She sought Aden’s face, allowing the memory to return and pushing the fear of Bishop Miller’s schemes out of her mind. She remembered the trembling of her heart when she looked into Aden’s eyes. His whole face would light up, with that crinkle of his cheek, reflecting the love he held for her. No, she had not dreamed such a thing.

Their love had been real, obvious in those moments when he had touched her face with his calloused hands that were weathered by the outdoors. She had longed for his hands on her neck, in her hair, the joy of his touch, but always honor held him back from that which was wrong. Honor was all that made sense then or now. Yet honor had cost them their world together. The future she had seen in his eyes had never come to pass.

Her thoughts turned to the night he first took her home…the night of their first kiss. She had served him shoofly pie, which he’d eaten even after admitting it wasn’t his favorite. Was that why she had never baked another shoofly pie since? Yes, no doubt.

Ella pulled on her coat and walked outside into the clear night. Aden had loved the stars. Together they had watched, counted, and named them. They had done so while standing beside his buggy or on the walk from the buggy to the front door of her home on Seager Hill. The view to the heavens was better up there, Aden had said, because it was higher. She’d laughed at him, telling him the distance to the stars couldn’t be measured by such things.

Her fingers reached for the snowbank along the basement steps and grabbed a handful. Squeezing it, the cold stung as the flakes turned into a piece of ice and then water. Snow. They had made snowmen one Sunday afternoon. Her mamm said they were silly. All people in love were silly. They must just be careful.
Da Hah
would help them. Careful about what? Careful about pain that wouldn’t go away? Careful about this agony from the hole in her heart? Careful about this memory of what was and never would be again? Was that how she was to be careful?

She didn’t feel careful—not at the moment. Reckless perhaps? Her eyes were wide open to what Bishop Miller might have planned for her. Could he really do what she was thinking?

Ella picked up more snow—two handfuls this time. She squeezed and her fingers felt on fire. Did the bishop actually hope to win her consent to say the sacred vows with him? Ronda didn’t think so, but how would she know? Ronda hadn’t sat with him, been close to him. She hadn’t heard his voice, feeling the firmness of his hands on hers and the certainty in his voice.

So clever the bishop thought he was, and Ivan was playing right into his plans. Should she warn Ivan? Would he listen if she did? Not likely. He would think her mind full of imaginings, just as Ronda had. Ella stared at the stars, the night air cold on her face and gently blowing her hair over her shoulders.

Beyond her memories of Aden and her worries about the bishop were her troublesome feelings for the strange
Englisha
man. They had come on their own, and surely they would leave on their own. Only after they had done their damage, it looked like. Why would an
Englisha
man come in from the outside like this? So out of the blue and with a story of his mother’s quilt. Ella laughed. There was no way Bishop Miller swallowed that story. She knew him well enough for that.

Ella easily turned to tears. Great waves of them came, stinging her cold cheeks. How was she to stop them? The world seemed to be careening at the moment. Only the house behind her seemed solid with its presence and comfort. Aden’s house. He had given it to her—even from beyond the grave, so to speak. From it she had found a reason to go on, a purpose in life. Now it and the land stood with her, solid and steady.

She had been thought brave by others to build the house. Ronda admired her for it. But was the building in vain? She would soon live with Ivan as his wife. She was supposedly not secure until there was a man beside her. Ivan.

She pulled her coat tightly around her and gathered fresh courage. “Ivan’s home will be mine,” she whispered. “Ivan, the girls, and me. I will do it for love, for his love and for the girls, because what Aden has left me won’t be enough. These feelings for the
Englisha
man will be my secret, hidden away in my heart all the days of my life because it can never be.”

Ella waited. Surely the bitterness would come, the edges laced with poison, but she felt only sorrow. The kind that came from death and from dirt thrown on bodies that would never breathe in this world again.

“It’s just as well,” Ella said out loud. “Perhaps I will learn my lesson this time. This kind of love doesn’t do anyone any
gut
.” Her voice caught, and her eyes searched skyward again. “But, oh Aden, you were so real! Why couldn’t you have stayed with me?”

A streak of light, fast and furious, raced across the sky—a star falling from the heavens. Her gaze followed its fiery trace. Was this a message from Aden? Did he still care about her from afar? No, Aden would be beside her. He wouldn’t send a star in his place. She was on her own, there was no question about that.

As for Robert, she would stay away from him. Certainly she wouldn’t make more trips to the bishop’s district to scout things out. She could stay here—hunkered down—until Robert was gone. If she saw him, she was certain he would know her heart from the look in her eyes. She would not be able to hide it.

With great weariness, Ella returned to the basement. Stepping inside, she felt a gladness for the wave of warmth from the stove rushing over her. Going outside had been good for her, but now she was tired. Tomorrow would come much sooner than she wished, and the girls would arrive again, another week like the ones before. Rest now would be good.

Ella filled the stove with wood and turned the dampers. The fire would last until she awoke sometime in the night, awakened by the cold. At this moment the thought of the bed’s covers felt wonderful. Their warmth would allow her mind to drift away without this pain.

Still, she wanted to do one more thing. Tomorrow morning would be rushed, and the rest of the day no better, so she desired to write in her journal tonight. Quickly Ella brought out the tablet from the dresser drawer. She turned the kerosene lamp up as far as it would go. She listened for a moment to the house around her. No human noises came from upstairs, just those steady little sounds of wood and stone when they settle down from a cold winter day.