A Heart Once Broken (11 page)

O
n Wednesday morning Rosemary flopped down on the couch with the pile of mail in her hand. She had worked for hours already with
Mamm
and her younger sister Ann on bread and pies. This was her first chance to catch her breath.

“Anything interesting?”
Mamm
called from the kitchen.

“I haven't looked yet,” Rosemary answered.

She skimmed the letters first. Mostly there were bills for
Daett
, but one letter was addressed to her. Rosemary held the envelope up to the light. The return address was from the old community in Ohio, but there was no name. The handwriting was clumsy and crude.

“There's a letter for me,” Rosemary announced.

Mamm
appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Did one of the relatives write?”

“I don't know.” Rosemary turned the envelope upside down. What if this was from a man? The thought left her weak. Perhaps someone had remembered her from the old community? Surely not.

“Let me see,”
Mamm
demanded.

Rosemary handed the letter to
Mamm
and held her breath.
Mamm
didn't look too long before she said, “You'd better open this in your room, I'm thinking.”

Rosemary let her breath out. “But
Mamm
, I had nothing to do with this.”

“Such things are in the Lord's timing,”
Mamm
said. “You don't have to be ashamed of a man's attentions. Take a few minutes to read the letter, but upstairs please.”

Rosemary felt the heat rise up her neck as she obeyed. Halfway up the stairs, Rosemary met Ann on her way down.

“Why are you coming up?” Ann asked. “We have to get back to work. There's still the pie fillings to make and supper after that.”

“I'll be right down.” Rosemary hid her face with the letter and pressed on.
Mamm
could explain once Ann arrived in the kitchen. She didn't know what to say. A man had written her a letter. Did she even remember him? Likely not. He must be a shy fellow not to place his name on the return address.

Rosemary slipped inside her room and opened the envelope. The single page slipped out. “Dear Rosemary,” she began to read. “Greetings in the name of the Lord. I hope this finds you and your family well. We are expecting a hard winter here in Ohio, and I expect things may appear even more bleak in upstate New York.
Daett
said yesterday that the almanac predicts the first snow fall by Thanksgiving.”

Rosemary paused to turn the page over. The end of the letter read, “Your hopeful friend, Johnny Mast.”

Rosemary took a deep breath. Johnny was the same age she was, with plenty of pimples on his face when she had seen him last. But he might have outgrown them by now.

Rosemary scanned the last paragraph. “I hope you remember me. I certainly remember you, and I have a great faith that the Lord may stir in your heart what has been raised in my own. I have spent
much time in prayer about this, Rosemary. Would you consider writing letters to me, and perhaps allowing me to visit you soon in New York? Please let me know of your answer at the soonest possible date.”

Rosemary laid the letter down. Johnny Mast? She had nothing against him, but on the other hand, he wasn't Clyde and he certainly wasn't Ezra Wagler. Was there something wrong with her? Did she choose the wrong men? Was Johnny right for her and she was too blind or proud to see it? But if she accepted this offer to write him, there went her chance to gain Ezra's attentions. And that after her brave words to the Troyer cousins on Sunday! Maybe she was proud. Lydia and Sandra hadn't laughed at her plans, but perhaps they should have. One thing was for sure—she couldn't play both Johnny and Ezra at the same time. And Ezra was far from a sure thing, while Johnny was…well, he sounded certain of himself, and she had never had a man interested in her who sounded certain of his feelings. But pimples? Could she stand that, even if they had gone away? Rosemary let the thought float around in her mind. The feeling wasn't
goot
, but that might be her pride speaking.

Rosemary jumped when
Mamm
called up the stairs. “Time for work, dear.”

“Coming,” Rosemary hollered back. She hid the letter in the bottom of her dresser drawer and hurried downstairs.

“So?”
Mamm
asked when she arrived.

“Johnny Mast,” Rosemary deadpanned. “He wants to write and maybe visit soon.”

“Oh,”
Mamm
said, and fell silent.

Ann giggled. “You'd make a
goot
match with him.”

Rosemary winced but said, “I'll have to think about it. That's all I know.” She then busied herself with the cherry pie recipe.

Mamm
joined in with the work but didn't offer any advice,
though she seemed deep in thought. Did
Mamm
have an opinion? Rosemary would have to ask soon, if
Mamm
didn't speak up.

Rosemary found a large bowl and stirred in the ingredients. When
Mamm
still hadn't said anything, Rosemary spoke. “Tell me what you think of Johnny,
Mamm
.”

“Ann said it pretty well,”
Mamm
allowed. “And I've noticed lately that you've come out of your shell around boys, so perhaps this is all the Lord's timing.”

“See, I was right.” Ann's face glowed. “
Mamm
agrees with me.”

Rosemary didn't answer as she continued to stir. Thoughts from the past drifted through her mind. Clyde's face looked down on her with a smile that first evening he'd taken her home from the hymn singing in his buggy. Johnny couldn't match that emotion. Of that she was sure. But Johnny wouldn't have to. Much as she had hoped Clyde's love was the real thing, it hadn't been. Clyde had dumped her with harsh words on his lips. Why he had even taken her home in the first place she never would understand. Johnny wouldn't act that way.

Mamm
's voice broke through Rosemary's thoughts. “Remember what I told you after Clyde? Life has its bumps, but things eventually turn out the way they are supposed to.”

“You must have been reading my thoughts,” Rosemary managed.

“Why doesn't someone read my thoughts?” Ann asked with a grimace.

“You have your own special place in our hearts,”
Mamm
assured her.

“Thank you,” Rosemary and Ann said together.

Her parents did the best they knew how, Rosemary told herself. But she had never explained to
Mamm
exactly why Clyde had cut off their relationship.
Daett
no longer attended the liberal meetings, and blaming
Daett
wouldn't have done any
goot
. And Ezra healed
her heart exactly where Clyde had left the broken pieces. So how could she turn her back on hope that was so real?

“Pray about it,”
Mamm
said, cutting into Rosemary's thoughts and making her jump again.

“She's a dreamer,” Ann said.

And dreamers sometimes dream, right?
Rosemary almost said, but pressed her lips together instead.

How had she dreamed this dream? Ever since she had spoken with Ezra at the feed mill the idea had grown and taken root—wrong though the desire was. But in the meantime she couldn't say
yah
to Johnny. She just couldn't. Not with her heart set on Ezra. She'd have to tell Johnny not to write any more letters.

“Do you want to say what you're thinking?”
Mamm
asked.

Rosemary gave Ann a quick glance. “With her around?”

“That's not fair,” Ann protested.

“Maybe you can find something to do in the basement.”
Mamm
gave Ann a warm smile. “Or there's still some vegetables left to bring in. You could check and see what you can find for supper. Maybe a few radishes, carrots, celery, and lettuce. Then you can clean them in the sink downstairs.”

Ann frowned, but left without further objection.

Mamm
turned to Rosemary when the basement door closed. “Okay,” she said. “We're alone now, and I hope you're thinking the right thing.”

“I can't accept Johnny's offer.” Rosemary felt the color rush into her face. “My heart is set on someone else.”

The question grew on
Mamm
's face. “Why didn't I know about this man? And has he given you any indication that he cares about you?”

Rosemary looked away. “No, but he's like that. He doesn't make up his mind easily.”

“And who is this man you think you have a chance with?”

Rosemary met her mother's sharp gaze. “Ezra Wagler.”

“Ezra!”
Mamm
exclaimed. “What has gotten into you, Rosemary?”

Rosemary stumbled over the words. “I…I feel like trying, I guess. I want to ride in his buggy,
Mamm
. I want Ezra to bring me home on a date. I want the joy of loving him.”

Mamm
grimaced. “You know this is your imagination running wild, Rosemary. Ezra is not the man for you.”

“Maybe not,” Rosemary allowed. “But even if this is just a dream, I can't let it go. And what if Ezra does care for me? What if Ezra plans to ask me home soon on a Sunday evening? I've done my part. I've shown him my intentions every chance I've had.”

“I don't need to know more.”
Mamm
held up her hand. “If you feel like that, then don't give Johnny a positive answer. On that I agree with you.”
Mamm
's voice was firm. “Now, enough of this discussion. We have to get these pies in the oven, and supper made.”

“Thanks for not scolding me too badly about Ezra,” Rosemary said. “I do feel much better. It's as if…well, like I'm no longer alone.”

A smile crept across
Mamm
's face. “Your heart does lead you into lonely places at times, Rosemary.”

“Better lonely than broken,” Rosemary muttered.

Mamm
didn't seem to hear as she opened the oven door and waved away the cloud of heat with her apron. With the way cleared,
Mamm
slipped the pies inside.

She would write a real nice letter to Johnny, Rosemary decided. She would tell him that she appreciated his attentions. There was no reason for harsh words. “Dear Johnny,” she would write. “I received your letter and feel honored that you would think of me. And I do remember you from our time in Ohio. I appreciate your offer to exchange letters with a possible visit sometime in the future. I have spoken with
Mamm
about what you asked, and I've decided it
would be best if I declined your offer. But thanks for the consideration. I hope you are successful in your journey in life and in your search for that special someone the Lord has prepared for you.

“Sincerely, Rosemary Beiler.”

She would remember the words until she had time to write them down after supper. The face of Ezra Wagler floated in front of her vision, and Rosemary hugged herself.
What if
…but she must not daydream right now. She must wait, and pray with all of her might. Surely the Lord would not put such desires for a man's attentions in her heart only to snatch them away again.

Chapter Eleven

A
week later, Lydia hurried as she washed the supper dishes. Behind her, Emma cleared the last of the table with a flourish, while Rhoda stood ready at the drainer with her dishcloth, grabbing each dish while the water still dripped. They rushed because Sandra and her
mamm
were coming to visit, but that was no excuse for how Rhoda was wiping dishes tonight.

“Your cloth will soon be sopping wet if you don't let the dishes air-dry for a few minutes first,” Lydia warned.

“We're in a hurry, aren't we?” Rhoda shot back.

“True,” Lydia allowed. “But that's never an excuse for sloppy work.”

Rhoda didn't answer, but she shook the next dish a few times. Lydia gave her sister a quick smile. She had to mind her attitude around her sisters. It wasn't her place to interfere with Emma and Rhoda's training. That was
Mamm
and
Daett
's duty. But since the family's financial disaster,
Daett
didn't seem to have enough energy for his daily work, let alone the strength to guide the high spirits of his two youngest teenage daughters. Lydia tried not to think about the situation too much, but disaster would strike soon if something
wasn't done. Emma and Rhoda were growing bolder every day, to the point of openly flaunting their
Englisha
friends on the weekends. All four of them had stopped by the house again on Saturday night, and
Daett
had said nothing.
Mamm
hadn't appeared pleased, but she wouldn't interfere with her daughters' plans on her own. Not on such a touchy subject. One thing was for sure—none of the older children had dared to bring
Englisha
friends onto the homeplace in their
rumspringa
time. She certainly hadn't. Not even once, let alone twice.