Ella Finds Love Again (21 page)

“Well,” he said, waiting. “I can come back some other day if you need time to think about this.”

“
Nee
. If Bishop Miller says it’s okay, I agree to teach you.”

“You people place a lot of confidence in your bishops,” he commented.

“Yah. They lead the people.”

“I’ll have to think long and hard on that,” he said. “But I expect I can keep my mouth shut, even when I doubt.”

“There are those who do speak their minds—in private—myself included.”

He motioned beyond her toward a chair at the kitchen table. “May I sit?”

“Yah,” she said, moving into the room.

Mary and Sarah had set their dolls down and were staring at the man.

“Mary and Sarah, this is Mr. Hayes. You saw him the other day when he was here for lunch. Remember?”

A brief flash of recognition crossed Mary’s face. She returned to playing with her doll, and Sarah followed her example.

“I think they like me,” he said with a smile.

“I have to clean the table and get my work done first. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I’ll help,” he volunteered, getting to his feet.

“Oh, but I can’t let you,” she gasped, his presence looming over her.

“Something in the rules against men working in the kitchen?”

“
Nee
.”

“Then I will help. What shall I do first?”

“Well, I guess you can clear off the table while I wash the dishes.”

“Ah, with pleasure,” he said.

Ella turned to the sink and said over her shoulder, “I hope you know I don’t really know how to teach our language. The lessons can be free until I figure out what I’m doing.”

“Fair enough. And I really don’t mind a little work around here ahead of time. You can even take your shoes off if you want. Of course, it’s winter. I guess I was thinking of summer—barefoot in the grass and all.”

“You might as well get used to barefoot women if you plan on joining the Amish,” Ella said.

“I like barefoot women,” he said as he moved the last of the dishes to the counter. The table cleared, he said, “I’ll go get my tablet. I didn’t bring it in with me in case you threw me out.”

“You know I won’t throw you out,” she whispered at his retreating back.

His hand on the doorknob, he paused to turn and smile at her. He had heard.

Twenty-five

W
hile the
Englisha
man went out to the buggy, Ella raced around the house tidying as best she could. The curtain to the bedroom area was crooked. She pulled gently, but her effort made them look worse. Another jerk and the curtain almost came tumbling down. She gave up on that. Robert would just have to think what he would.

“Why are you rushing around?” Mary asked.

“I’m trying to straighten up,” Ella whispered. “Quick, take your boots—and Sarah’s too—back to the stairs. They’re by the front door. You do that while I sweep the kitchen.”

Mary obeyed while Sarah held her dolly.

Ella grabbed the broom, hoping for even just a few sweeps under the table. With vigor she brought the broom around. She grabbed the dustpan and swept up the pile of dirt. Mary was by the front door, slowly gathering up the boots.

“Hurry!” Ella whispered.

She looked up to see Robert’s tablet come past the window, heard strong steps that crunched in the snow, and the faint sounds of the doorknob being turned. With a final rush she emptied the dustpan into the fire, a brief puff of flame rising from the mini explosion. Ella shut the lid with a slam, replaced the broom, and gathered herself together.

“So you’re working,” Robert cooed to Mary as he entered the basement door. He bent over and removed his boots. “That’s a good little girl.”

“Yah,” Mary said with a sweet smile, flattered by his attention.

Did Robert always have this effect on girls? He probably had tons of
Englisha
women who fell over themselves to be with him. How many girlfriends had he kissed before leaving them behind in his flight to the Amish? Perhaps that was why he was here in the first place?

“Well, now that’s done,” Robert said, leaving his boots neatly by the front door. He pulled out a kitchen chair again and sat down. “Now, you go on with your work. You can teach me words as you go along. Things that you are doing and so on. Would that work?”

“I guess so,” Ella said. “As I said, I’ve never done this before.”

He tilted his head, staring at her.

“How will you learn to spell the words?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Bishop Miller says your language has no official written form, but I did find a dictionary I can purchase. I ordered it, unofficial though it may be. I’ll use that as my guide once it comes. In the meantime, I’ll spell how the words sound. Mom didn’t spend all that money on my college education without me learning something.”

“You’re college educated?”

“Now, now. Bishop Miller didn’t think that would be a problem—from an Amish point of view. Just from mine. Things I’ll have—shall we say—wasted. Does my education level bother you?”

Always Bishop Miller. Why do conversations always return to him? Oh, for a chance to be somewhere with no talk of Bishop Miller within miles.

He tilted his head again, waiting.

“Did you ask a question?”

“Yah,” he said, rolling the strange word out. “I asked if my college education bothered you?”

“Of course not,” she said, stacking just-washed dishes on the counter. But it did bother her. It widened the gulf between them.

“I’m glad to hear that. I was afraid it would.”

She cleared her throat. “I guess there is the sense that it really makes you from another world—
their
world—and living way across the field from us.”

“That’s an interesting way to say it,” he said, scribbling with his pen.

“Did I say something strange?” She turned to face him.

He chuckled. “A little, but that’s what I want to learn. Not just your language, but the way you say things. The idioms you use. This is why a dictionary won’t do the trick. I need to hear the words…to be around the people speaking it. Thankfully, Bishop Miller understood that and suggested you—the perfect person to work with.”

Why does he continue to mention Bishop Miller? Won’t he ever stop?
“I’m glad,” Ella said aloud, hoping she had kept her feelings out of the tone of her voice.

“So tell me some words,” he said, his gaze focused on his tablet. “Say the words slowly so I can hear the syllables.”

“What do I say?” she asked, her mind going blank. “I don’t know how to talk to a college-educated man.”

“That’s nonsense,” he said. “Get over it, okay? I’m like everyone else. College or no college. Now tell me what you have in your hand.”

Ella glanced down at the plate. “
Della
,” she said.

“Beautiful,” he muttered. “Now what do I sit at—this table?”

“
Dish
,” she said.

He nodded and wrote it down.

“This is a
gavell
,” she said, holding up a fork. When he had written that down, she held up a table knife. “
Messa
.”

“Is it always the same?” he asked. “Whether it’s a big knife, little knife, table knife, or pocketknife?”

“I think so,” she said.

“And you are a
mann
,” she said. “That’s spelled with two ens.” She turned her head quickly when a big grin covered his face.

“Anything else about me?” he teased.

“Well, I’m hoping you’ll prove to be a
gut
man. That’s
g-u-t.
”

“I’ll do my best,” he said.

“Just pay attention to your lesson,” she snapped, regretting she had brought him up.

“Are all Amish women this free with their compliments?”

She felt his eyes on the back of her neck.

“Well, I said I
hope
you’ll prove to be a
gut
man. I don’t know yet,” she countered, not turning around. “I’m thinking the trials ahead for you will tell the tale.”

“The trials. Now there you go again. You have no faith in me. I told you I plan to join the Amish, and I’ll do whatever is necessary. I’ve talked to Bishop Miller about baptismal classes, and he said he’ll take me on in the spring, even if there are no other students. Yet still you doubt me.”

“People don’t just walk in and announce they will become Amish,” Ella said, turning to face him, her eyes defiant. “It’s not done. Unless something isn’t right. Are you running from something, Robert? Perhaps a wife you left behind? A girlfriend? Children?”

“Suspicious are you?” he asked, looking at her. “Are all Amish women so outspoken? There is no wife or girlfriend or kids. But really, should you ask these things? As an Amish woman? Shouldn’t such questions be asked by your good bishop?”

“Has he asked them?” She kept his gaze.

His eyes were as innocent as a baby’s, disconcerting, throwing her off stride.

“No, come to think of it,” he said. “He hasn’t.”

“Then perhaps he should. And what is this about Amish women? I can ask what I want to.”

He laughed. “I guess if the bishop doesn’t do his duty, it falls to the women. That’s not just a trait of Amish women—that’s true wherever people are. But I suppose I don’t really blame you for being suspicious. I can see it might look kind of strange. Me just coming in out of nowhere.” He laughed again.

“Is it really funny? It’s not to me. I’m serious,” Ella stated.

“Yah,” he said, his face sober. “So am I.”

She was unable to draw her eyes away from his. They seemed locked in place.

“Well…,” he said, breaking the silence, “perhaps we’d best end the lesson with that. The good bishop will wonder why I’ve been gone so long.”

“Yah,” she managed. “And I need to get some work done around here.”

“Then one more word, and I’ll be on my way,” he said, standing.

“Yah?” she asked. “What’s the word?”

“What is the German word for ‘wonderful’?”

“
Wunderbar
,” Ella supplied.

He cleared his throat. “Thanks then for this first lesson. And we’re on for next time, perhaps in a week or so? I don’t need a solid date, approximate is good enough.”

Ella looked up. “You can just drop by when you’re ready,” she said. “I mean, I’ll be here. There’s nowhere I go. I have the girls, the house, the quilting. I don’t visit much.”

“All right then.” The
Englisha
man turned to the two girls with their dolls and the baby nearly asleep. “Goodbye, girls. You be good!”

“Yah, we will,” the two older girls said in unison.

At the door he bent over and slipped on his boots. He had his hand on the doorknob when he stopped and turned to Ella. “You are
wunderbar.
” The words flowed gently off his tongue.

Ella wouldn’t have been surprised if her knees gave out and she landed flat on the kitchen floor in a crumpled heap. She had meant to walk him to the door, but it was useless. She couldn’t move.

As he walked through the door, he turned to smile broadly and wave goodbye. He shut the door, and then he was gone.

Twenty-six

E
lla washed dishes furiously. Not only was she late, but now she heard Ronda’s knock on the basement door above the stairs. “Come in!” she called. Footsteps came down the stairs.
Ronda will want an explanation…and what will I say?

Ella had suddenly thought what her response would be and suddenly the ridiculousness of the situation struck her. She threw back her head in soft laughter, her hands still in the dishwater.

Seeing Ella laughing, Ronda whispered, “Ella, have you gone mad?”

“I think maybe I have,” Ella said, turning toward her.

“I was just teasing, you know,” Ronda said, breaking into a feeble smile.

“Yes, I know,” Ella sighed. Motioning with her hand, she said, “Come, sit down. You shouldn’t be standing up so long.”

Ronda took a chair at the table. “Ella, what’s happened?”

Ella started to laugh again but stopped. “I’m sorry about the laughter. I suppose it’s really not funny. But laughing is the only thing that makes me feel
gut
right now. That and being angry, but that doesn’t make me feel
gut
for long.”

“So what’s this all about?” Ronda asked. “Ivan’s arrival I expected, and then you had him stay for breakfast. I guess that’s okay since we live upstairs. But then that
Englisha
fellow came…”

“I didn’t ask him to come. Bishop Miller sent him over.”

“Oh,” Ronda said with relief.

“That doesn’t mean there won’t be trouble though.”

“What do you mean? He didn’t stay too long, and didn’t you say Bishop Miller approved the visit?”

“Yah. He came for German lessons. And he’ll pay me, he says.”

“That’s
gut
,” Ronda said, relaxing in the chair and taking a deep breath. “You had me worried there.”

Ella decided not to say more for the moment. No sense burdening Ronda. She had enough going on in her life with the loss of the
bobli.

“Ella, I didn’t really come down for that. Well, maybe partly. I was curious, you know. But the more important reason is that I’ve been bleeding all morning. Just a little here and there. I was going to ask you earlier about it, but then you had your visitors. Do you think the bleeding is normal?”

“How much are you bleeding?” Ella asked. “Did the doctor tell you to expect some bleeding?”

“He said some spotting might be normal, but this is more than that. It’s not all the time though, just off and on.”

Ella’s mind raced.
Is this serious or not?
She had no idea. “When is your next appointment?” she finally asked.

“Not till next week.”

“I think that’s too long to wait. I think you should go to the clinic. I’ll take you. Can you get ready while I get the horse harnessed?”

“I’m ready, I guess,” Ronda said. “I can watch the girls while you get ready.”