The Amish Bride (49 page)

The next day Darryl shut off the old well for good and he, Luke, and Tom worked together to get the line from the new well to the house repaired.

And unlike Malachi, who was driven primarily by selfishness, and Gerry, who was driven primarily by legalism, Darryl—who had tendencies toward both—was apparently driven primarily by the one desire we all strived for, to be Christlike. When everything came to light, somehow that difficult man, the one Ezra had called a tyrant, found it within himself to sit down with his family and ask their forgiveness for his oversight with the well and the heartache it had caused.

When Luke told me about that moment later, he said it was the first time he’d ever seen his father cry. And when his mother took her husband’s hand and told him all was forgiven and forgotten, that it wasn’t his fault, Luke said it was as though God laid a healing balm over all of them.

As the psalmist said,
He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.

The family chose to focus on the positive, on God’s goodness, mainly that Eddie had survived both Cora’s pregnancy and his infancy. Perhaps the nitrate level in the well wasn’t as high during that time. Or maybe it was as simple as God stepping in and allowing Eddie to live.

I wondered if he would have mental problems similar to Alvin’s, but I suspected, based on how bright the little boy was, that he wouldn’t. Sure, he’d had a few difficulties learning, but all in all he was catching on. As far as his physical health, at least his parents knew what he may have been exposed to and could keep that in mind when dealing with any future medical issues.

Mom called me a couple of evenings after we’d talked to let me know she’d spent the day at
Mammi
’s. She said her mother was sad, yes, but very grateful for the information and the work I’d done for her.

“She said to thank your friend—this Luke,” Mom said.

I smiled, grateful she couldn’t see me.

“And that she’d like to meet him some day.”

I didn’t respond.

“And I’m thinking I would too. When you’re ready.”

“It’s not like that,” I said. “I’m really not boy crazy anymore. Tell
Mammi
that, okay?”

Mom laughed a little and said she would.

The next Sunday I spoke with Preacher Jacob about taking the classes to join the church. When he asked me why, I said I wanted to be the bride of Christ. He smiled, and said he’d heard about what happened in Lancaster. I told him I could assure him, without a shadow of a doubt, that my desire to join the church had nothing to do with getting married—it had everything to do with following Christ. Eddie joined us then and as I reached down for his hand, he told the preacher he was teaching me to speak Pennsylvania Dutch.

“And she’s helping me with my English, from school,” he said. “The writing and reading parts.” I tousled his hair and agreed we had a deal.

Preacher Jacob taught the classes to the join the church, and as I worked through them, any remaining doubts I had faded away. I needed community to live the life God had called me to. I needed the structure and security of like-minded believers to live out my faith. I needed to
make a firm commitment and to be held accountable. I needed the Amish church. I knew it wasn’t what everyone needed—but it was right for me.

After a month back in Indiana, I called Mom to talk with her about my wanting to stay indefinitely. She sounded sad at first, but by the time I told her how contented I felt, she agreed it was a good idea. Before we hung up she said she had a bit of news she felt compelled to share and hoped I wouldn’t take it as gossip. She said Ezra had left for Florida the week before.

I gasped.

“Do you know anything about this?” Mom asked.

“Maybe,” I answered. “He mentioned Florida, but I didn’t think he was serious.” Foolishly, I’d thought he would go only if I went with him.

“He never did sell his motorcycle. He has a job down there working on a dock. It sounds as if he doesn’t plan to ever join the church.”

My heart sank.
Oh, Ezra.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Mom’s voice was full of kindness.

“I just hope he’s okay,” I said.

“We all do…” Her voice trailed off. “Keep him in your prayers.”

“And to think all of you put out such an enormous effort to keep me from corrupting him.” I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see it.

“Is that what you thought?”

“Well, sure.”

“Actually,” she said. “
Mammi
and I were more interested in keeping Ezra away from
you
.”

“What?”

“Once the truth came out, I learned
Mammi
also had an ulterior motive with Sarah’s book, but at the time that’s why she said she wanted to pay for baking school, to help keep Ezra from being such an influence on you. We wanted you to stay in Indiana to give you some distance.”

“But what about the Gundys? Isn’t that’s why they sent Ezra away in the first place? To keep us apart?”

“Well,” Mom said, “I can’t speak for the Gundys, but I know
Mammi
and I weren’t nearly as concerned with you being around Ezra as we were with Ezra being around you. And for good reason.”

“What’s that?”

She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Both your grandmother and
I married men who didn’t love the Lord with all their hearts. I’m not saying Ezra would have turned mean or cheated on you, but I think his relationship with the Lord was more about family and culture than devotion to God. Frankly, I think the main reason Ezra was joining the church was because that’s what was expected of him.”

“Well, duh. It
is
what was expected of him.”

“I know, but joining the church, expected or not, should be about far more than that. It should be a step of faith, not just of tradition.”

I didn’t have to be able to see my mother to imagine the exasperated look on her face.

“But you,” she added, her voice softening. “Your decision is completely unexpected—which makes it all the more real, I’m sure.”

The middle of October, six weeks after I returned to Indiana, I approached Rosalee and asked if she would consider me as a business partner. I would invest the money I had saved, making repairs and updating the equipment for a fourth of the profits.

“I realize, in time,” I said, “that you’ll sell the Home Place.”

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but then she didn’t say anything.

“But I’m willing to cut my losses if the new owner won’t allow me to continue with the bakery.”

I was going to be a single Amish woman without close family nearby. I would need a way to support myself. But by the time she sold the Home Place, I hoped to have enough saved to lease a shop in town. Maybe by then I could bring Penny in on my business.

After a few days of prayer and consulting with the bishop, Rosalee agreed to take me on as a partner. She also told me her plans had always been to leave the Home Place to Luke.

We were in the bakery kitchen and I stepped backward, bumping against the worktable. “Does he know it?”

“
Ya
, I told him yesterday.”

My heart swelled for my friend. It didn’t matter that Tom would get the dairy. God had provided a place for Luke, the place he loved most on earth. I regretted ever spending an ounce of time worrying about Luke’s position in life. He’d been right. It wasn’t my concern.

He’d known to trust God all along.

I made a batch of caramel apple dumplings to celebrate and then had a heart-to-heart talk with Luke, explaining that I had no expectation that I would keep working at the bakery after he took over the farm. I knew he would marry someday and have a family of his own. I had no intention of being the old-maid cousin by marriage, hanging around, making everyone uncomfortable.

He listened and then said, “So be it.” He was quiet for a few days after that, but soon we were back to talking every afternoon as always. He would come into the bakery at closing time, and I would pour him a cup of coffee and serve him the best of what was left. Sometimes I would talk through improvements with him. Sometimes we would still be talking when Eddie arrived from school and then I would help him with his English and both he and Luke would help me with my Pennsylvania Dutch.

The first of November, as I walked from the bakery to the house, Eddie called out to me from the edge of the woods. “Come play with us!” He and Luke had left the bakery about a half hour earlier, and I thought they had gone home.

“Hide-and-seek,” he said. “With me and Luke.”

I couldn’t help but grin as I hurried toward him. “Who’s it?”

He pointed back into the woods, which was a blaze of red, yellow, and orange leaves against the dark green of the pines and firs.

“Luke.” Eddie cupped his hands around his mouth, as he turned, and shouted, “Ella’s playing too!”

I followed Eddie to the right, behind the smokehouse, but when he took a trail toward the creek, I opted to hide in the brush that was turning scarlet from the late autumn cold, behind the red pine tree. It wasn’t too long until I heard the little boy shout, indicating he’d been caught. I crouched down farther and pulled the brush in front of me.

After a while I heard footsteps. I shifted my head. Eddie led the way along the trail, followed by Luke.

“Where is she?” Eddie’s tone was exasperated.

“She’s pretty good at this, huh?” Luke stopped in the middle of the path, took his straw hat off, and ran his hand through his dark hair. His gray eyes twinkled.

“Let’s give up,” Eddie said.

“Nah,” Luke said. “Let’s keep trying.”

There was something about his words—and his tone—that made my heart skip a beat. He turned around then, his eyes practically locking with mine. My heart skipped another beat. And then another, terrifying me. What was I feeling?

Luke was my best friend. I couldn’t feel anything more for him.

They continued down the path, or so I thought, until a minute later when Luke’s hand darted through the shrubs and slid across my back.

“You’re it,” he said as Eddie’s laughter rang through the woods.

I wondered about my feelings for Luke over the next weeks. Was I transferring all of my emotion from Ezra on to him? I knew enough time had passed that this wasn’t a rebound thing, but was it that “got to have a boyfriend” thing, even though I’d vowed to give that up? I’d told Mom I wasn’t boy crazy anymore. And I was so sure I wasn’t.

I prayed about it every morning and night and thought about it off and on each day.

About a week later, after Luke had his cup of coffee in the afternoon plus several of my orange frosted cookies, he asked me if something was wrong.

“No,” I was quick to answer. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been acting funny. Kind of cold.”

“To you?”

He nodded.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” I grabbed the cloth and began wiping off the counter, turning away from him, my heart pounding, praying for God to take my feelings away. I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I didn’t want to lose my best friend.

Fall turned into winter. I was able to make a brief but lovely trip home for Christmas without missing any of my classes to join the Amish church. The very last class was held the end of January, and then the next church meeting was held at the Home Place, the second Sunday of February. Rosalee and I spent the week cleaning and cooking and baking. The
service was long, and the living room grew hot with so many bodies in the house on what turned out to be an unseasonably warm day. Then, at the end, Preacher Jacob said we would be having a baptism.

He called me up and I kneeled, bowing my head, barely able to comprehend his words. Thankfully I’d listened closely in class. When it was time, the water splashed over my
kapp
, over my forehead, rushing down my face. I tipped my head upward, smiling. When I stood and started back to my seat, brushing the wetness from my face, I caught Luke’s eye. He nodded solemnly.

Rosalee and I, with help from the other women, readied the food while Luke directed the rearranging of the benches around tables. After the meal was served, I found my way out to the lawn and leaned against the bare tulip tree. A group of girls was out there, most a few years younger than me. I said hello and they returned the greeting, but then all of their eyes fell behind me. I turned. Luke was coming down the steps.

I gazed at the girls again, recognizing Naomi from all those months ago when I first arrived in Indiana. She must have been visiting a friend in our district. I couldn’t help but wonder if Luke had his eye on her too. He could easily marry now that he knew he would have a place of his own.

“Ella,” he was behind me and I turned around. “May I speak with you?”

The girls stirred, but I didn’t dare look at them. Luke stepped toward the driveway and I followed. Overhead, a flock of geese flew south.

Luke’s hand bumped against mine as we walked, unintentionally I was sure. It was a minute before he spoke, until we were definitely out of hearing from the others.

“I was wondering,” he said, stopping and turning toward me. “If you would go to the singing with me tonight.”