The Love Letters (38 page)

I
n an attempt to soothe their sadness, Marlena awakened early the next morning to make waffles and bacon. She didn't need to ask if her grandmother had slept well; she could see by the deep lines beneath her eyes that she hadn't. As for herself, Marlena was anxious to wash down the crib and haul it over to Ellie's. It had stood all night in her room as a shadowy reminder of the baby she'd grown to love . . . and lost. Each time she'd rolled over, she had to turn away, heartbroken by the sight of it.

Neither she nor Mammi spoke of Angela as they ate, though Marlena could think of nothing else.
Did Gordon feed her the rice cereal she loves? Is she getting to know her father? Is
she still crying?

Every imaginable question crowded in, and she tried not to glance at the spot where the high chair had been. Last evening, she'd taken time to clean it, then set it out on the porch, thinking she could easily make it fit in Mammi's big trunk to deliver it to Ellie.

The telephone rang, startling them. “Who'd be callin' this
early?” Marlena said, reaching for the phone. “Hullo, Martin residence.”

“Yes, hello, is this Marlena Wenger?”

“Who's callin'?”

“It's Gordon Munroe.”

“Oh, of course.”
Does he want to share something about Angela Rose . . . maybe an update?

“I'm sorry to bother you, but do you have a moment, please?”

“Is everything all right?”

He paused, and she could hear Angela whimpering in the background. “It's obvious my daughter misses you very much.”

“And I miss her, too. Oh, you have no idea.”

“Last night, I stayed up reading a package of letters Luella had written to me. They arrived at my parents' address . . . sent there when I was classified as MIA.” He stopped again, drawing a breath. “Marlena, I'd like to talk to you about one letter in particular.”

She glanced at Mammi, then turned to look out the window. “All right.”

“Not now, though . . . not by phone. I'd like to drive back down there today if it will suit you.”

She heard the urgency in his deep voice. “
Jah
, that's fine.”

He thanked her and said good-bye.

“
Ach
, mighty strange,” she told Mammi after she'd hung up. “Gordon's comin' to talk to me 'bout one of Luella's love letters.”

“Well, isn't that something.”

“I should say so.” She couldn't guess in the least what was up, or what she could possibly offer.

When the doorbell rang out front, Marlena was busy peeling a mound of potatoes. She stopped to wipe the perspiration from her brow and looked at the kitchen clock. She knew this couldn't be Gordon Munroe, not unless he'd pushed the speed limit.

Drying her hands on her apron, she walked through the house and saw that it
was
Gordon after all. “Come in,” she said, opening the screen door, deciding not to comment on how quickly he'd arrived. “We can sit in here, if you'd like. My grandmother's resting a bit on the back porch.”

“I appreciate your taking time to see me today, Marlena.” He was holding a letter-sized envelope as he sat on the settee nearest the windows. “You've certainly had your share of losses recently. I'd like to offer my condolences to you for your grandfather . . . and for Luella, too. I'm sorry I didn't think to say anything yesterday.”

“Dawdi Tim was an inspiration to many people, 'specially to his family,” she said, sitting across from Gordon.

“I wish I'd known him. And I definitely didn't know your sister for nearly as long as I'd planned to.” Gordon looked away, a glint in his eye. “Luella talked quite a lot about your grandfather Martin. In fact, in one of her letters, written not long before she died, she said his opinion mattered more to her than anyone's.”

Marlena nodded. “I felt that way, too.”
Just had no idea Luella did.

He opened the letter in his hand. “I'd like you to hear your sister's words directly, if you don't mind.”

Folding her hands, Marlena listened as he began to read.

Dearest Gordon,

I miss you and pray for your safe return to me.

Angela Rose is such a dear baby, and she brings me so much happiness—I wish you could see her growing little by little. Oh, and does she ever look like you! She also reminds me of Dawdi Tim Martin, with those beautiful eyelashes. Dawdi even had the longest arms ever. He would boost me onto his big horses and lead me around the barnyard.

I've been thinking about the summers Marlena and I spent in Brownstown lately. Did I ever tell you how Dawdi read the Bible to us in English? Afterward, he would close the Good Book so reverently and talk about Jesus, as though He was a brother or a very close friend. I still can't get this out of my mind. Well, my heart.

Now, I don't know if you'll understand or even approve, but I've made my peace with God recently—a long time coming. And I've been taking our baby to church with me every Sunday morning. It's very different than the Amish church I grew up in, but I'm learning more about the heavenly Father who loves me no matter how badly I've hurt my parents . . . and my siblings, most especially my sister Marlena. When I look at our little daughter, I feel compelled to teach her these tenets of Scripture, too. Being a parent has opened my eyes to what's really important.

Honestly, I regret leaving my Plain life behind—not that I have second thoughts about marrying you, Gordon. It's just that being in the Amish church gave me the best start I could have had, if only I hadn't strayed from the simple gifts of integrity, kindness, and embracing peace—all the wisdom I learned there.

You might wonder where I'm going with this, dear. With you half a world away, battling a war I don't understand—and me here alone with Angela Rose—I've been wondering if
we shouldn't have a will made in case anything might happen to you or to me. Along that line, I can't think of anyone I'd rather choose to mother our baby than my sister Marlena. Without question, she is the very best choice to care for Angela Rose, if it ever comes to that. I just know she would show her the tenderest love.

What do you think of this idea?

While he was reading, Gordon paused several times to regain his composure. When he finished the letter, his face was wet with tears. “Do you understand now why I had to see you?” He wiped his eyes with a handkerchief.

Marlena was deeply touched by her sister's words, but she was not clear why Gordon had felt such a need to rush here. “I guess so . . . but I'm a bit puzzled, since Angela has you, Gordon.”

He nodded and refolded the letter before slipping it back into the envelope. “The military life is not conducive to raising a young child—not for a single father,” he said. “I'm home for a bereavement leave, but I'll be expected to return to battle. And, as you must know, my parents are well past their child-rearing days. As long as they can visit Angela Rose, they will respect my wishes for her care.”

“It would be a very big change for their lives,
jah
.” She sighed, trying to grasp all that Gordon was implying just now. “But I'm single, too, and there's no romantic prospect that I know of.”

“But do you love Angela Rose?”

She nodded. “More than you know.” She thought of Nat's ultimatum and bit her lip. “I'd do anything for your baby girl, believe me.”

He tapped the letter on his knee. “Obviously Luella recognized that, as well.”

Knowing her sister had named her in the letter made Marlena sigh. It was truly a surprising compliment to realize Luella had seen her in that way.
She must've understood me better than I thought.

“If you're willing, I want to honor my wife's memory and sign over full custody to you, with the understanding that I'll send you money every month to help with Angela's needs.” He stopped for a second, folding his hands. “Of course, I would also like to visit my daughter occasionally, as my schedule permits.”

Her tears were her answer, and Gordon gestured toward the door, saying he needed to return to the car quickly. Oh, Marlena wanted to call for Mammi and tell her right then what this visit was all about. But, still in awe of what her ears and heart had just heard, she rose and walked to the front door, pushed open the screen door, and stepped out onto the porch, filling her lungs with God's fresh air.
What an amazing day, indeed!

Then, hearing the most precious baby cries ever, Marlena turned and saw Gordon's aunt Patricia handing Angela Rose up to him from the car.

Hurrying down the steps, her skirt tail flying, Marlena outstretched her arms. “Oh, my darling!” she called. “You're here . . . my precious baby.”

And then, scarcely aware of anything but that Gordon had passed his daughter into her embrace, Marlena wept the happiest tears of her life.

L
ate that September, before the harvest, corn leaves shimmered all over Brownstown farmland. Marlena first noticed the glints of gold when Mammi drove to purchase additional dress material for Angela Rose. As they sped past the rows of corn, Marlena caught a sprinkled reflection of dazzling sunlight, like thousands of tiny mirrors.

God's calling is sure,
she thought, thrilled to have Angela Rose in her care for always.

“You seem to enjoy sewin' more than ever,” Mammi said as they rode.

“It's nearly like making doll clothes, she's so small.” Marlena smiled down at Angela Rose, dozing in her arms. “'Cept she's a lot more fun.”

“Enjoy it now, 'cause these days won't last at the rate she's goin'.”

They laughed merrily, and Marlena knew it was ever so true. These were the days to cherish, while her niece-turned-daughter was still small.

Every dawn is different,
thought Jake that Saturday as he walked with Dat in the early morning darkness along the familiar road toward the old mill. This dawn was the first he'd go fishing with his father.

Over the one-lane bridge and on down the creek bank to the opposite side, they carried their fishing poles without a sound except their shoes on the road.

Silently, they opened the tackle box and began baiting their hooks in the light of Dat's big flashlight.

“Mighty quiet this time of day,” Dat remarked, his voice a mere whisper.

Only a few yards away, Conestoga Creek rippled past, and Jake's mouth watered at the thought of the pan-fried bluegills and carp Mamma would be cooking up for dinner this noon. Maybe even a catfish—though, thinking of Sassy just then, he wished whoever'd named the latter hadn't put the word
cat
in there. Sassy had meowed and fussed when Jake left her in his room back home.
“Just Dat and me this time
,”
he'd gently insisted.

They cast their lines, then perched themselves on the leaf-strewn grassy bank.

“What would ya think of goin' hunting with me this fall, son?”

“
This
fall?” Jake sure hoped he'd heard right.

“Why not? Grouse and pheasant huntin' starts soon enough. Thought I'd get ya ready by teachin' ya to shoot,” Dat replied, leaning forward when he had a pull on his fishing line. “If you're willing.”

Jake waited to answer, lest he scare away Dat's catch. He
turned to look at his father, still taking in his words, and watched him reel in a nice-sized bass. “You think it's time, then?” Jake asked, his heart pounding.

“I say you're more than ready,” Dat said, nodding his head emphatically.

I think so, too!
Jake sat up a little straighter, and when his line tightened and jerked, he leaped right up and reeled the fish in faster, even, than Dat had.

Triumphantly, he held high his catch for Dat to admire just as daybreak brightened the sky, the sun's rays brilliant over yonder green hills.

In October, Marlena's entire family came to visit for several days, and the reunion was a joyful reminder of earlier gatherings when Dawdi Tim would set up the cider press in the barn. Everyone helped to make apple cider, and Marlena couldn't help but remember Luella working with her, washing the apples from Benuel Miller's orchard up the hill.
An assembly line of love.

Privately, Dat suggested that Marlena ought to remain with Mammi Janice through the winter and possibly into next spring. “I think the baby might need some constancy 'bout now,” he said while Mamma and her mother sat in the kitchen, looking at old photos and reminiscing. Marlena didn't even need to stop to think—she eagerly agreed.

Subsequent family visits were the high points of that fall and winter, and Angela Rose took her first timid steps on Christmas Eve, putting the biggest smile on Mamma's face, and even winning some applause from Dat.

Each month, Marlena received airmail letters from Gordon
as he finished his first tour of duty. He included generous checks for Angela Rose's needs and kindly requested regular updates—his fatherly affection for his daughter had not ended when he surrendered Angela Rose to Marlena's care. As a surprise for him, Marlena purchased a small camera to take pictures, which she enclosed in her return letters, something for which Gordon seemed grateful.

On Angela's first birthday in January, a package arrived from Gordon—a journal-like letter chronicling the events of the past year.
“Prayer, and my
love for Luella and our baby, gave me the will to live,”
he'd written. Gordon also asked if Marlena would please save the letter till Angela was old enough to read it for herself and understand and appreciate the painful ordeal her father had suffered in the war and in the loss of his wife.

The following spring, Marlena's fascination with the New Order Amish church became a genuine pursuit of their beliefs. Attending that church held in Amish homes satisfied her soul's deepest yearning. No longer was there a smidgen of doubt in her mind—she belonged to the Lord Jesus.

It was during this special season of new life that Marlena began to realize that Luke Mast must be planning his Sunday afternoon “prayer walks” to coincide with her own long strolls with Angela Rose.

Hope sprang into her heart that verdant springtime.

“You see, Marlena,
you
were the young woman I was talking 'bout last summer,” he told her, blue eyes shining.

His revelation took her breath away.

“It might seem now like I was speaking in some sort of code, which I guess I was.” He gave her a sincere smile. “I needed to know how you felt about my pursuing someone who was already promised.”

She recalled his confidential sharing and how certain she had been that Luke was talking about the brunette she'd seen riding with him and Sarah.
But, of course, that girl turned out to be his cousin.
Hearing him reveal that Marlena had been the object of his affection all this time made her blush.

“So when I heard of your breakup with your beau, I knew I should wait for a while longer to tell you how I feel,” he added.

Sarah must've told him,
Marlena thought, all the more thankful for their sisterly relationship.

Luke went on. “I wanted to give ya time to recover from Luella's passing, too. That was mighty heavy on my heart.”

He was so sympathetic and understanding, Marlena found herself looking forward to their weekly walks and the way he kept their conversation flowing in such a fun-loving manner. Equally important, Luke was gentle with Angela Rose, even offering to carry her around after the shared meal on Sundays, or holding her dimpled hand as they walked together, his steps made short to accommodate Angela's tiny ones.

Marlena also noticed Luke continue to befriend Jake Mast, who'd abandoned his youthful nickname. Truth be told, Luke's bighearted manner with everyone—so like Dawdi Tim's—made him a favorite with all ages amongst the People.
Sarah's handsome older brother is everything a young woman might desire in a friend. And more,
Marlena caught herself thinking.

So they agreed to be just that, taking their time to get to know each other. “Lord willing, next September you could take baptismal instruction,” Luke suggested. “And after that, I'll court you in earnest, if you're ready.”

Marlena approved, appreciating his willingness to take things slow for her sake, as well as Luke's obvious fondness for Angela Rose. Mammi, too, thought it was better that she
didn't rush into a new dating relationship, given all Marlena had been through . . . though Mammi let it be known that Luke Mast would be a mighty fine choice for a husband, “Someday.”

But by the time Marlena realized how very attracted she was to Luke—and how ready she was for rides in his fine courting carriage—summer was beginning. Thankfully, there was plenty of time for their romance to unfold.

Their summer as friends seemed to pass leisurely. And not only did Marlena feel completely at ease in Luke's presence, she'd begun to feel lonely when she wasn't with him. She also discovered that his favorite dessert was caramel cake, so she baked it for him on several occasions—things were even sweeter when his eyebrows lifted and that winning smile appeared on his suntanned face.

Their courtship, which followed their baptism into the New Order Amish church, took a turn one fall evening when Luke insisted on having Angela Rose along on one of their buggy rides. Surprising Marlena, Luke stopped over at his parents' farm and hopped out of the highly polished black buggy with twenty-one-month-old Angela and, after offering to help Marlena down, walked with them both toward the house.

“Are your parents expecting us?” She felt giddy seeing Sarah wave from the kitchen window just then. Luke was known to spring things on Marlena, and he seemed to enjoy the air of mystery.

“Thought I'd show ya the house where I grew up,” he said, stopping in the large front yard, standing on the thick roots of a majestic oak tree jutting up from the ground. He
smiled mischievously and tickled Angela's chubby cheek, then reached for Marlena's hand in the secluded, shady spot. “This is the wonderful-
gut
house,” he said and glanced over his shoulder at the large white clapboard farmhouse, “where I'll be bringin' my bride . . . and her little one, to live one day.” Luke looked down at Angela, then back at Marlena. “If you'll have me, dear.”