Heritage of Lancaster County 03 The Reckoning (17 page)

Because of that, Mattie dismissed the notion of using anybody's telephone at all.

"Be gentle," she advised her husband and pulledback the bed quilts and other handmade coverings.

Leaning down, David lowered Ella Mae into her bed. Mattie couldn't help thinking, with a chilling shudder, that it was much like the lowering of a coffin. When she'd cov-

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ered her mother carefully, tucking her in almost as if she were a child, Mattie slid a chair over next to the bed and sat there, holding her breath as the left side of Ella Mae's facial muscles began to weaken and sag.

Mattie appreciated her husband's comforting hand on her shoulder as he stood behind her, watching.., waiting.

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The weather was cold and gray for a full week, and Katherine was glad to have another social event to look forward to at the end of it. She had read and reread the letter from Mary more times than she could count, for it brought a great sense of relief.

Shortly after Mary's letter had arrived, she marveled to receive one from Rebecca as well, though her mamma's letter seemed less spirited, more of a means to admonish and instruct than to convey compassion. And there had been news of Ella Mae, who'd had a bad stroke. Katherine wondered how the dear woman was doing. Surely the womenfolk would assist her in her recovery. They were known to be able to bring a body near back from the grave.

There'd been no mention of Dan's visit to Hickory Hollow, though, which made her wonder. Still, she cherished the letter with all her heart.

Katherine sensed a mysterious stirring in the air, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She had not known of a bishop--not anywhere in Lancaster County--backing away from his initial declaration of shunning. Never--nie- toolst.

She couldn't help but wonder what was happening in

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the Hollow. Was Bishop John floundering as a leader? If so, wouldn't Mary have said something?

To clear her head, Katherine bundled up and headed outside to walk the grounds, though some patches were too deep with snow to explore.

She went around to the south side of the mansion, where Rosie had told her there was a little lily pond surrounding a small fountain. "You'll enjoy sitting out there with a good book come summer."

She smiled at the thought of warmer weather, thinking that the expansive lawns might be just the place to bring Willy for a picnic. That is, if she could get permission from the hospice. On second thought, Mayfield Manor would be a perfect picnic spot for any number of terminally ill young children. She could hardly wait to discuss the idea with Natalie.

Justin was indeed charming as he sat at the end of the elegant table that evening. It was the occasion of his cousin's birthday, and the evening was complete with a roving string trio, and later, dancing. Never having attempted to dance ballroom style, Katherine declined Justin's cousin's invitation as politely as she knew how, which may or may not have been a slap in the face to the guest of honor. She couldn't tell for sure by the way Justin continued to make conversation with several others at the table, never so much as raising an eyebrow.

Observing his interaction with others, she was learning a great deal about her handsome Beau. She hadn't known it before, but just this night she discovered that he was fluent in two other languages besides English. Not to let that tidbit of information get the best of her, she boosted her morale with the fact that she was fluent in two. Thankfully, Justin

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wasn't the type of person to reveal the secret Plain past of his date. He carried on, smiling often and throwing her an occasional wink.

Clearly, she felt like a fish floundering on a beach somewhere, what with the blue-smoke, high-society atmosphere. Especially tonight. Even the chandelier over her head far surpassed the exquisite one in the dining room at Mayfield Manor. She was dressed appropriately for the occasion, so the feeling she suppressed had nothing at all to do with the way she'd arranged her hair in a lovely updo, secured with one of Laura's diamond-studded combs, or the gown she'd chosen with matching heels and bag. No, it had more to do with the awkward way she felt while in such grand and fancy surroundings, her own mansion not included.

She wondered if she was trying too hard to fit in with Justin's friends and his extended family. So far, he had not mentioned taking her to meet his parents, though she almost expected it, in lieu of his recent comments about their "future together."

She honestly felt as if he might be getting close to a proposal of marriage, and the thought of it made her tingle with expectancy. Perhaps, in time, he would present her with a beautiful ring, too, just as everything else she'd ever really dreamed of had seemed to wend its way to the doorstep of her life.

The drive over to Ella Mae's took less than five minutes, and Lydia Miller was thankful for a warm car on such a cold day. Peter, her good-natured husband, had consented to drop her off for a visit with the ailing Wise Woman on his way to town. "Do you think she'll even know you?" he asked as they turned into the lane leading to David and Mat- tie Beiler's big farmhouse.

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"If it's as bad a stroke as some are saying, maybe not. But that won't scare me away," she answered truthfully. "I can still pray for her whether she knows me or not."

Peter nodded, then got out and went around to help her out. "You won't be able to phone me when you're ready to leave, but maybe you can visit with Mattie for a while, and then I'll be by to pick you up." He glanced at his watch. "Say, in about an hour from now?"

"Suits me fine," she said as he leaned down to peck her cheek.

I'll be in prayer for you, dear. And for your friend." She waved. "See you soon."

At the door, Lydia was greeted and made to feel at home by Mattie and several other Amishwomen who were close relatives of the David Beiler family, but none that Lydia herself had ever met.

Mattie, talking softly, led her through the front room to the door that connected the main house with the smaller addition. "I s'pose you should know that she can't speak at all," Mattie cautioned as they went into the main floor bedroom. "But Mare loves havin' visitors, so don't let that hinder ya one bit."

Glad she could be of some help, whether spreading cheer or just sitting by Ella Mae's bedside, Ly'dia prayed silently that she might be a blessing to the woman.

I'll give ya some time alone with her," Mattie said, closing the door behind her as she left.

The room was serene and dim, and Lydia felt she ought to tiptoe, which she did, but then stopped and stood at the foot of the bed, looking down on her friend's thin frame there under several layers of cozy quilts. "Hullo, Ella Mae," she said softly. "I heard you could use some company, and, well... I'm right here."

The Wise Woman's cheeks were sunken and drooped, her eyes glum, yet she blinked as if to say; "Glad ya came."

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Lydia pushed the chair closer to the bed so that it was right up next to the mattress, where she could comfortably reach out and hold the paralyzed hand, stroke the limp arm. "I've been thinking and praying for you every day since I heard," she said.

Leaning forward, she put her face up close to the wrinkled one. "The Lord's presence is here, Ella Mae, right here in this room."

Minutes passed. Lydia remained silent, squeezing the fragile hand in hers. Ella Mae's loving hands had helped many a person with domestic chores over the years: sowing seeds in charity gardens, harvesting, canning and preserving, quilting, mending--even churning butter on occasion. They'd touched many a little one's head, gently blessing her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren with her generosity and love. And her hands had helped weather the storms cf life, soothing the brow of her dying husband and years before that, of Essie, her twin sister.

Now it was Ella Mae's time to be touched with tenderness. Lydia was content to reach past the stiff immobility, past the deadened limbs, and communicate God's love.

As she held the misshapen hands, the bluish veins bulging up past the surface of crinkled skin, she prayed aloud, "Dear Lord Jesus, thank you for Ella Mae's life, that she has lived it for you--helping others, offering her life as a sacrifice to those who have come, searching for truth. I pray a special blessing over this your child. If it be your will, bring her out of this condition. Allow her to regain the use of her hands and limbs, her voice and her mind. I pray this in Jesus' name. Amen."

As she stood to leave, she was aware of Mattie's presence. "Oh, I didn't hear you come in," she whispered.

"Your prayer was awful perty," Mattie replied. "Thank you, Lydia. You're a . . . kind woman." She nodded, feeling a bit uneasy." No one had ever com167

,

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plimented her on a prayer. "I . . . I hope Ella Mae--both of you know that the Lord understands what you're going through."

Mattie's eyes were bright with tears, yet she didn't make an attempt to hide them, and when she blinked, they spilled over and coursed down her face. "We don't often hear that kinda thing about the Good Lord. It would be awful nice to know that what you say is true about almighty God being' interested in each and every person's life. I'd give just about

anything to know for sure and for certain " Her voice

trailed off.

Lydia went to Mattie and reached for her hands, holding them in both of hers. "Oh, but you can know. You can!"

Nodding her head, Mattie's lip quivered, unable to speak.

Lydia glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping Ella Mae. "Your mamma knows. She's filled up to the brim with the love of the Lord, Mattie. That's why people are drawn to her. God's given her a great gift of wisdom."

"Jah," Mattie said, brushing the tears away. "I remember the day things changed for the better for Mamma. It happened weeks before my father died of a heart attack. She'd met up with some churchgoing folk in town somewheres. Never really said who they were or what had kept her so long, but I saw by the shine on her face that somethin' was different. Not long after, that same kind of joy st-,owed up on Dat's face.., and 'twasn't but a few weeks later, and he up and died."

Lydia paid close attention to this stor), though she'd suspected as much for years.

Mattie sighed, adjusting her apron. "Thinking back on it, I suppose Mamma felt she had no choice but to live out

the rest of her life in the Amish church."

"Well, I can understand that."

*'She probably should're turned English on us and fol-

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lowed her heart to the Mennonites," said Mattie with a dainty smile. "I 'spect the thing that kept her was the Meinding. Our bishop's mighty hard on the People, ya know. Doesn't bat an eye 'bout puttin' the Ban on someone who shows signs of arrogance--which is what John Beiler would've said about Mamma if ever he'd known."

Lydia couldn't help but think that the Wise Woman had made a difficult choice, yet prudent--following the Lord by serving the People right in her own community.

When the time came for Lydia to say good-bye, it was like leaving behind a thirsty woman in a desert. Mattie's heart had been softened by Ella Mae's stroke.

"Come by for pie and coffee," Lydia offered. "Come anytime at all."

"Denki... I just might do that."

Lydia prayed that she would.

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Katherine was more than eager to attend church with Rosie and Fulton Taylor. The Lord's Day morning had started out quite early, with her trying to read another one of the old classics she'd found in the manor library. Yet she turned the pages without reading it. Such a peculiar feeling she had, like she was marking time, waiting for something to happen, perhaps something unforeseen. Though she was not impatient about whatever that something might be, she felt a lurking sense of excitement residing in the back of her head, though she had no way to comprehend it. Not one iota.

Were the letters from Mary and Rebecca the reason for her aloofness, her disinterest in the book she held in her hands? Odd as it seemed, she felt she was stepping toward a new phase of her life, not knowing where it might leave Katherine Mayfield's hopes and dreams.

She shrugged off her brooding feelings and went to find Rosie to say that she would like to go to church today.

Not two hours later, she entered the doors of the beautiful sanctuary, recalling that the last time she'd come here, she was saying a final good-bye to a mother she'd barely known.

Having never visited any church except the Mennonite

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meetinghouse in Hickory Hollow, she was in awe of the windows--cut up in little parts of colorful glass and put back together like a quilt--the massive pipe organ, and the sloping aisle that created a carpeted path through the many cherrywood pews. Surely she had noticed such beauty on the day of the funeral, yet she vaguely remembered.

"Himmel," she whispered to herself, following Rosie and Fulton to their pew. She sat next to Rosie, with Fulton closest to the aisle, and sang along with a few of the hymns, though she didn't know many of them. As she tried to follow the notes on the staff, she thought again of Dan, who had first taught her to read music.

The music presentation by the choir, followed by an organ solo, set her spirits soaring. She could hardly wait to try out the melodies on her guitar.

But it was the sermon that touched her most. The pastor's delivery and style was so foreign to her, so entirely different from what she'd grown up with in the Amish church. Yet she was captivated by the message on the love of God . . a personal heavenly Father who adored and cared for His children. This message about a God who was ii':volved in her life--she'd kept hearing it, from Dan and then little Willy and now the minister. Could it really be true?

She thought of Lydia Miller, too, knowing that her cousin would approve of such a sermon. The more Katherine listened, the more the minister explained, the less heretical the idea seemed to her. What was strange was hearing Scripture passages she'd never known existed.

Quickly, she scribbled down the references on the bulletin she'd received from one of the ushers. She had to read them for herself, wanted to hold Laura's Bible in her hands, to search out some of these verses she'd never heard read by any of the preachers in Hickory Hollow.