The Amish Bride (12 page)

I exhaled. Judging by that remark,
Mammi
obviously hadn’t heard the full story, thank goodness.

I took out my piece of paper and explained that I’d been doing some research on the computer. “There are two Darryl Klines near Nappanee,
but I figured out which one lives next door to the Home Place. Do you think I should give his name and address to Ezra?”

Mammi
squinted at me. “I think it’s up to his family to find a place for him.”

I folded the paper and put it back in my apron pocket, feeling a little sheepish. I’d fallen to a new low.

Then she surprised me. “I’ll talk to Alice.”

“No,” I said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” I regretted trying to manipulate her.

“She’s coming over this afternoon. I’ll mention it and see what she thinks.”

I went to pour the Earl Grey and serve the scones.
Mammi
wouldn’t remember what we’d talked about by the time Alice arrived—at least, that’s what I told myself. While we were waiting for the tea to cool, I pulled Sarah’s journal from my backpack. I asked her about the little flower, saying I was sure it was edelweiss.

“Oh,
ya
.”

“I thought so. It looks like the edelweiss carved into the side of the wooden box Lexie has.”

Lexie and Ada both had carved wooden boxes just like the one I kept under my bed. All three boxes had been made by our ancestor Abraham Sommers, and though the carving on the lid of mine featured the Home Place, Lexie’s showed Abraham’s residence in Switzerland, a gorgeous mansion called Amielbach. Ada’s featured his childhood home and business, a bakery, in the Swiss town of Frutigen.

“How about this?” I pointed to the drawing of the alpine horn, hoping she could see it. “Did your grandfather have one of these?”

“He brought his with him from Switzerland.”

“How big was it?”

“As tall as he was,” she said. “I don’t know how he had room for it on the ship, much less once they got here and had to make their way across the country to Indiana.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “I remember it as a child. He used to play ‘Amazing Grace’ on it, out in the pasture, under the willow tree by the pond.”

“Wow.”

She opened her eyes and met my gaze. “Wow is right. It wasn’t still at the Home Place by the time I was grown. I don’t know where it ended up. Maybe one of his older sons got it.”

I held the book open to one of the recipe pages that had symbols drawn in across the top and bottom.

“Remember when I said I thought the symbols represented people?” I asked.

Mammi
nodded.

“Well, I’ve been pursuing that line of thought, and I think I’ve figured some of them out.”

She gasped, her face lighting up like a lantern with a sparkling clean globe.

Grinning, I pointed to the page and explained. “See this hawk? It represents Sarah’s first husband, Gus Stoll. This owl is her second husband, Clive Chapman. I’m guessing the eagle is David Berg, her third husband. Can you think of some reason she would have chosen an eagle to represent your father?”

“I have no idea,” she said. “What about the hen? You mentioned that before.”

“Right.” I flipped through the pages. “It’s the only symbol Sarah included through the entire journal from beginning to end. I’m guessing it represents her. An ongoing self-portrait of sorts.”

“Oh, Ella. I think you’re figuring this out. We need to get you to the Home Place—and soon.”

“I would really like that,” I said, calmly, “though let’s not share that idea with anyone else just yet, okay?” That was all I needed, for her to blab to Ezra’s grandmother about sending me to Indiana!

Mammi
nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. “
Ya
. Of course, dear.”

“When was the last time you had contact with anyone from Indiana?”

“Rosalee wrote to me faithfully for a while, but then she had some troubles of her own and I didn’t hear from her as often. I can’t remember the last time I received a letter from her…” Her voice trailed off. “And I really didn’t keep in touch with anyone else.”

“What about your uncle Alvin? Did he have any children?”

“No, he never married.”

“Do you remember him?”

“Oh, no. He died long before I was born. He lived at the Home Place his entire life, and my mother spoke quite fondly of him.”

I couldn’t help but think of Alvin’s snooping when it came to Sarah’s book. “Really? She was positive toward him.”

“Oh,
ya
. But also with regret. She said she didn’t fully comprehend until much later than she should have that there was something different about him. She said he was always childlike, and it took her years to accept and appreciate him for who God made him to be.”

I wondered when Sarah’s opinion of her brother changed.

Mammi
yawned, so I closed the book and asked if she needed a rest.

“Yes, but I’d like to have tea first. And one of whatever that is you brought. I always look forward to your treats.”

“Well, then, you’ll appreciate these especially.” With a grin, I unveiled the plate of scones. Eyeing them expectantly, she chose one and took a bite. Her eyes widened with delight.

“Oh, Ella, God bless you! These are the exact scones my mother used to make! You must have followed her recipe.”

“To the letter.” I sat back and watched as she relished the confection. Despite the many years that showed in the wrinkles on her face, it wasn’t difficult at all to picture her as a little girl, enjoying her mother’s treats.

Thinking of that little girl, regardless of my own ulterior motives at play here, I really did want to break the code for her sake.

I wanted to bring her whatever truth of her mother’s she’d waited a lifetime to learn.

The next evening my cousin Lexie called.

“Just to check in,” she said, but I was certain Mom told her Zed had revealed his birth mother to me.

I was touched that she cared, really, but I was still feeling raw.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It wasn’t my place.”

“How long have you known it was Lydia?”

“Since that day at
Mammi
’s, when James led the family come-to-the-truth session.”

“You mean the family come-to-just-part-of-the-truth session?”

“Ella, that’s not fair. This other information was Zed’s. Your mom couldn’t tell you before Zed was ready to know.”

“Freddy Bayer is my father too.” I winced. Now I was sounding as if that was a good thing. “I had a right to know.”

“I know it’s hard. I feel for you, I really do.”

I muttered a thank-you.

“So when are you going to see Freddy?”

“I’m not.”

“Why?” Her voice was incredulous.

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

“No,” I answered. “And what’s up with you? You never met your birth mother.”

“That’s different. She’s thousands of miles away. If she showed up in Oregon, you bet I’d make a point to see her.”

“How’s James?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Good.”

“When are you two going to start a family?”

“Ella.” Her voice was soft but firm.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like you’re Amish. I can ask you things like that. You’re a nurse-midwife, for goodness’ sake.”

She changed the subject anyway, asking how my job hunt was coming along. Because there wasn’t much to report, we only talked for a few more minutes before wrapping up the call.

A little while later, Ezra sent me a text, asking if I wanted to go for a ride on his motorcycle. The rain had finally stopped, and it was unseasonably warm, even though snow was predicted for the next day. I kept my emotions in check as I said yes.

I undid my bun and shook out my hair, changed into my jeans and a sweater, and put on my warm down jacket. I stayed in my room until I heard his motorcycle turn into the drive, and then I rushed down the stairs and nearly got out the door before I heard Mom’s voice from the kitchen.

“Ella!”

“I’ll be home soon.” I slipped through the front door, jumped down the steps, took my helmet from Ezra, and climbed on behind him.

“There’s a party down by the canal,” he said. “Want to go?”

I shrugged and then pulled my helmet on my head.

“How about you?” I usually didn’t defer to him.

“Not really.”

“You know what sounds good?” I fastened the helmet.

He shook his head.

“Hot chocolate.” I positioned my arms around his waist.

His face was still pointed toward me and a look of relief passed through his eyes. “At Nick’s?”

I nodded. We hadn’t been there together for a couple of months, although I’d been in twice since then looking for a job. It was hard to put my finger on exactly what was so appealing about the place. It was a strange mix of Italian and American desserts, soups, and breads in an old brick building with lots of charm, but the decor was a little outdated and actually pretty tacky.

Thankfully it was open well into the evening.

Ezra usually liked parties. At the first one I went to with him, I drank too much and really regretted it, but after that one bad experience, I learned to enjoy them. I met a lot of people—both Amish and
Englisch
. I met kids from my school I never would have known before, kids who, once they saw me at a party, thought of me in a whole different way. At least they noticed me after that, even if before then I’d been absolutely invisible to them.

Everyone loved Ezra. He was funny and friendly. He didn’t drink much, and he seemed to get along with everyone. If a hot topic came up, he’d change the subject with a joke. People were drawn to him, including the
Englisch
girls. “You’re so lucky,” they would say to me. “He’s the best guy around.”

I snuggled closer to him, trying to stop shivering. It was too cold to be out on a motorcycle, even if it was warmer than it had been. In a couple of months it would be motorcycle weather, though. I wondered what it would be like to take his motorcycle to Indiana but then caught myself. There was no reason for me to get my hopes up.

By the time we reached Nick’s Bakery, I’d stopped shivering. It really would be the perfect place for me to work, somewhere I could get both baking and waitressing experience. I led the way into the shop, my helmet under my arm. I didn’t recognize the girl at the counter, so I asked if she was new. She said she was, hired just last week.

I tried not to pout as I placed my order for a cup of hot chocolate and a
pain au chocolat
. Ezra mimicked my French accent as he ordered, shooting me a teasing look.

“What does she have that I don’t?” I asked as we sat down at the table.

Ezra pulled a napkin from the dispenser. “Experience?”

I slouched against the bench. “How much experience does it take?”

He shrugged and smiled. I glanced around the eating area. It was as boring as could be. Old vinyl booths lined the walls. Cheaply framed posters of European landmarks—the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, the Coliseum, and the Pantheon—hung on the white walls above the booths, but that was it as far as decor. I had no idea if Nick was French or Italian or maybe even Greek. We actually only saw girls around my age working in the bakery.

“If I owned this place—”

Ezra interrupted me. “I know, I know. You’d paint.”

“And add plants.”

“And better display cases.” Ezra smiled.

I nodded, aware that I spouted off my ideas every time we visited the bakery. I focused on the Eiffel Tower. What would be really cool would be to study in France, but if I couldn’t study there, a French bakery in Indiana would be—

“Ella?”

“Sorry,” I said, turning my attention back to Ezra.

“I was telling you about Will.”

“I’m listening.”

“He got on my case about a sprinkler.”

He continued to complain about his big brother chastising him for not fixing it properly. “But I had. It turned out the pipe had broken.” He loved Will, but sometimes his big brother was much harder on him than their
daed
was.

When the waitress brought our hot chocolate and pastries, Ezra
thanked her warmly. He didn’t have to be so nice, especially not to the person who had gotten the job I wanted.

Once she’d walked away, I asked Ezra who was going to be Will’s right-hand man after he left.

“That’s a good question.” His mouth spread into a grin. “Maybe he’ll finally appreciate me after I’m gone.” His grin faded. “I think he found a place for me.”

“Really?” I wrapped my hands around my mug.

“Will called the guy yesterday, and it looks like it might be the one.”

“Oh?” I took a sip of hot chocolate, hoping he couldn’t hear the pounding of my heart.

“I think Will likes the idea of this particular place because it’s so far away.”