Ella Finds Love Again (31 page)

Ivan came back in from the silo, this time holding something in his hand that he gave to Mary. Ella peered past Ivan to see it was a kitten, its little meows drawing giggles from the girls.

“You have a cat now?” Ella said.

“It just came by last week,” Ivan said.

“But I thought…” Ella started to say something…and then stopped.

“I know,” Ivan said, smiling. “I don’t know why either. I guess it was time.”

“I like the kitty,” Sarah said, stroking the fur gently before setting it on the floor.

“Let Barbara pet it too,” Mary said.

“Let me show you something that’s fun,” Ella said. She took down one of the three legged stools from the wall, picked up a milk bucket and sat down beside the nearest cow. Carefully she got the cow comfortable so she’d let down her milk, and she then squirted a stream of milk across the concrete floor toward the kitten.

“Bring the kitten closer, so he sees the milk,” Ella said.

The girls came over with the kitten in hand. Baby Barbara carefully toddled across the straw.

As Ella continued to squirt the milk from the cow toward the kitten, Mary asked, “Why are you doing that?”

“When the kitten gets big, it will catch milk sprayed into its mouth. It’s really fun. For now, we just need to let him get the idea.”

“I want to see it then,” Mary said.

“The kitten has to be bigger,” Ella said, sending another small squirt across the floor toward the kitten, who seemed only mildly interested.

Both girls laughed.

“It’ll be funner when the kitten gets bigger,” Mary said to Sarah who giggled in agreement.

Ella hid her face in the side of the cow. That was something she would not get to see herself. When Ivan joined the
Englisha,
she wouldn’t be around.

The girls took the kitten back to their play area, and for the next half hour Ivan did his chores with some help from Ella. Finally Ivan said, “You can go get the supper ready. I’ll be done in just a few minutes.”

“Okay,” she said with a warm smile. Then turning to the girls, she said, “Are you ready to go in for supper?”

The older girls nodded, and Ella picked up baby Barbara. “You girls did great out here waiting so patiently.”

“I think they’re more patient with you here,” Ivan said.

Ella glanced away. Ivan shouldn’t be saying things like that.

“Why don’t you eat first,” he said. “I’ll be in soon, and then you and the girls can leave.”

“
Nee
, I’m planning to stay, for supper,” she said.

“I appreciate that,” he said. “But I won’t have you waiting in the living room while I eat.”

“
Nee
,” she said again, this time meeting his eyes. “We will eat
with
you.”

“Ella, I appreciate the thought, but you can’t eat with me.”

She touched his arm. “I’m not leaving, Ivan. I want to eat together as a family. It’s Old Christmas Day. The girls deserve it, and yah, it will do you
gut
too.”

He swallowed hard. “I can’t allow it, Ella. You know the rules. They will do awful things to you.”

“I don’t care,” she said, her eyes still looking into his. “We will eat together tonight.” With Mary and Sarah beside her, the baby in her arms, Ella returned to the house. She would leave him to think this through on his own and perhaps it would be easier when he arrived in the house.

Ivan was left staring blankly at the barn wall.

Ella settled the girls down in the living room, leaving baby Barbara with Mary and Sarah. Soon she had the fire roaring in the stove and the food cooking.

“Ella, I can’t do this,” Ivan repeated, suddenly appearing at the kitchen door.

Ella had the table spread, the bread warm, the butter platter out, and the casserole steaming in the center of the table. She’d just seated the girls in their proper places.

“Sit down,” she said. “And don’t talk.”

“But you…”

“I want to do this,” she said. “It’s Old Christmas, and the Savior was born on this day.”

“So our people believe,” he said, taking the chair, and slowly sitting down. “But, Ella, knowing what this means, are you sure?”

“I’m quite sure,” she said, waiting with her hands folded.

Ivan struggled with the idea.

Ella waited.

He looked to his girls and then back at Ella. He bowed his head, and the German words came. Words he had known for so many years, spoken to others, for others, but now Ella thought they must be spoken for himself. Never had she heard such a heartfelt prayer from the lips of this man. Not even in his prime, when he thundered in his Sunday sermons.

She had tears in her eyes when he was done, and she was certain he did also. Not wanting to draw attention to either of them, she looked away, measuring out the food for the girls. When she was done, Ivan still sat there, as if frozen to his seat, his hands on his lap.

“You can eat,” she said, catching the look in his eye and the pain roiling inside of him. An idea came to her, and she simply responded. As she had done for the girls, she dished out his food for him, filling his plate with steaming casserole and then taking a piece of bread and buttering it for him.

“Which jam?” she asked.

He pointed and she spread blackberry jam liberally on the bread. She laid it beside his plate.

“Ivan, if you don’t eat, I’ll feed you,” she said as he sat silent, unsure of what to do. She saw the tears forming in his eyes.

“This is too much, way too much, Ella. You shouldn’t do this for me.”

“Let me worry about that,” she said, filling her own plate.

“Are you trying to win me back to the faith?”

“
Nee
,” she said. “That’s not my place. I told you—it’s because it’s Old Christmas.”

He nodded and, taking up his spoon, began to eat. If someone should look through the window from the road and see them eating together, it would just have to be so.

After the meal, Ella washed the dishes over his protests and put away the leftover food, which he was to keep. Finally, when it was time to go, Ivan hitched Moonbeam to the buggy and then helped her carry the girls out and lifted them inside.

“You’ll never know what this means to me,” he said, his hand on the side of the buggy. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“I can’t come again,” she said. “But I hope you decide soon what you’re going to do—for the girls’ sake as well as your own. It’s not
gut
to go on this way.”

He nodded in the darkness, his face barely visible. “May
Da Hah
keep you safe and bless you greatly.”

“Thank you,” she said. She slapped the reins and they took off. Only when she was on the road did she realize she had thanked an excommunicated man for his blessing. That was strange. It had felt like a real blessing.

Thirty-eight

B
y the last week in January winter still showed no signs of breaking. Ella had decided to take a chance on a washday. If the weather turned too cold to dry clothes on the line, the basement would serve as a last resort. Drying laundry inside made a mess, with water dripping all over the concrete floor, but it was better than frozen wash.

Everything else in Ella’s life seemed frozen in place too. Each week the regular routine came and went. Ivan dropped his girls off on Monday and picked them up on Friday.

Robert Hayes had not been heard from, nor had Eli shown up with any news about the man. The
Englisha
man would best be forgotten, even if Ella felt the occasional pang remembering his presence right here in her living room. As for Bishop Miller, he had made no move yet, but Ella figured it would come when she least expected it.

As it turned out, the day would allow her to hang the laundry on the line after all. And so she hurriedly did the wash and took it out to hang on the line. After a few minutes, her fingers were cold and red from the wet wash, and she welcomed a greeting from behind her as Ronda opened the kitchen window and called, “Good morning, Ella!”

Ella turned and waved. At least Joe and Ronda seemed to love each other. It was
gut
to have such an example close at hand. Perhaps it would rub off on her. Ella laughed bitterly at the thought. Love for her seemed utterly out of the question.

No sooner had Ella turned her attention back to the laundry than from out on the road came the sound of horses’ hooves, the driver arriving at a great pace. When he slowed down, Ella turned to see who it was but couldn’t tell from this distance. Surely of all things this wasn’t Bishop Miller coming to see her this morning. Not on laundry day. She turned and slowly pulled the final wet dress from the hamper, shook it carefully, and pinned it to the wire. She made no attempt to approach the buggy.

Steps sounded behind her. It sounded like a man was approaching. She would have to face him after all. From behind her a voice came.

“Ella?”

Startled, she turned. It was not the deep voice of Bishop Miller; it was someone else…someone unfamiliar. “Yah,” she said, turning around to see one of Ivan’s nephews walking quickly toward her. What was his name? She searched her memory. Lucas?

“You must come!” he said, his young voice urgent.

“Come?” she asked, her red hands dropping to her side. “Come where?”

“It’s Ivan!” he said. “There may not be much time.”

“What?” she asked, suddenly feeling cold all over.
Has Ivan lost his mind? Burned down his house? With the pressure on him, anything seems possible.

“I’ll tell you on the way,” he said, seeming ready to grab her hand if she didn’t respond.

“I must tell Ronda and ask her to take care of the girls,” Ella said, picking up her clothes hamper. It felt like her body was moving in slow motion.

“Then you must hurry!” he urged, following close behind her.

At the front door she didn’t knock but simply walked in, the young man following.

“Ronda!” she called.

“Yah?” Ronda answered from the kitchen.

“Can you watch the girls? I have to go with…Lucas. Something has happened with Ivan.”

“Oh!” Ronda said. “Of course I will. You go. I’ll bring the girls upstairs. Don’t worry—just go!”

Ella allowed herself to be led out the front door, and then she shook off the young man’s hand. “I’ll come,” she said.

“Then
run
!” he commanded, and they ran together toward his buggy.

Her coat was much too thin for a buggy ride on a cold morning, but she didn’t say anything. There obviously was no time for such things.

In the buggy she pulled the blanket up to her chin, but it did little to cut the bite of the wind. She hadn’t been driven so fast since Joe’s night drive to the clinic. Still, Lucas urged the horse on with sharp slaps of the reins. Snow flew up from the buggy wheels as it slid sideways at turns. Lucas hardly slowed at the stop signs.

“You have not told me yet,” she said, her teeth chattering.

“Ivan was cleaning off snow with the shovel—the big one they pull with the horses. He was using the colt hitched with his older horse and something happened. I don’t know what, but the horse got away from him.”

“Did anyone see it happen?” Ella asked, trying to pull the blanket up higher.

“Daett saw it when he was already being dragged,” he said, his voice dropping. “We live pretty far down the road, so you can’t see a lot. When I got there, he looked like he had been under the shovel for a ways. The lines were all tangled up under his arm. It’s hard to tell what all happened, but Daett and Susanna are with him now.”

“Why am I needed?” she asked, glancing at him.

“Ivan asked me to bring you,” he said. “In case…”

“But why wasn’t he taken to the clinic?”

“Ivan wouldn’t let Daett call for the ambulance or load him onto the spring wagon. Ivan only wants to speak with you.”

“But they didn’t have to listen to him,” she said. “I can’t do anything for him.”

“I don’t think anyone can,” he said. “And I don’t think it would have done much good to move him. It might have made things worse from the way it looks.”

Ella shook her head.

“He might want to make things right with you,” he said. “That’s what Daett was thinkin’. And Daett sent for the bishop too.”

“Bishop Miller?” Ella asked, sitting up straight.

He shook his head. “That’s too far away. Bishop Mast.”

“Then we must get there,” Ella said.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” he said, as he passed another stop sign with only a slight drop in speed.

Great spurts of steam were coming out of the horse’s nostrils, and his sides were heaving.

“You had best slow down,” she said. “We are almost there.”

“I know,” he said but didn’t pull back on the lines. “I’ll drop you off and then walk the horse for a while to cool him down.”

Ella saw a tight knot of people in the barnyard ahead, their black coats in sharp contrast to the snow around them. Lucas slowed down, allowing her time to climb out and walk around the buggy before taking off again. She approached the scene, noticing the two horses tied to the fence, the tangle of leather straps around them, the overturned snow shovel off to the side, and at the center Ivan, who was lying on a blanket. The snow surrounding the blanket was patched with red. The crowd parted as Ella made her way to them.

“She has come!” someone whispered, but Ella had eyes only for Ivan. His face was drawn and white, tense with pain, his hands on his chest that was spattered with blood.

Ella knelt beside him, reaching to touch him, his hands first and then his face. He opened his eyes, and barely whispered, “You have come.”

“Yah,” she whispered. “Of course. You knew I would.”

“She calls me,” he said, his voice raspy. “And there is not much time.”

She stroked his face, not caring how it appeared to those around her.

“I must tell you,” he said, making as if to rise, but falling back on the blanket with a groan. “You and Susanna. Where is Susanna?”

“I’m here, Ivan,” Susanna said at Ella’s shoulder, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears.