The Bridesmaid (8 page)

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Authors: Beverly Lewis

Tags: #FIC042000, #FIC026000, #Amish women—Pennsylvania—Lancaster County—Fiction, #Women authors—Fiction, #Amish farmers—Indiana—Fiction, #Man-woman relationships—Fiction

BOOK: The Bridesmaid
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Chapter 12

T
he moment Eben left, Joanna went upstairs to find Cora Jane near the doorway to her bedroom. “You're wasting your time with Eben,” she declared.

Joanna walked past her sister, letting it go—she wasn't about to allow anyone to spoil her lovely evening.

“I'm serious. How can ya go out ridin' when he basically told you he's uncertain he can ever move here?”

Hearing her own fears verbalized, Joanna shuddered.


How
, Joanna?”

Turning slowly, she measured what she ought to say. “Why are you makin' this your business, sister?”

“I hate to see you get hurt . . . and you will.”

“You seem so sure,” Joanna said.

“I'm just good at tellin' the truth.”

Suddenly exhausted, Joanna motioned toward her room. “Good night, Cora Jane.
Ich geh noch em Bett—
I'm goin' to bed.”

Her sister was big-eyed but mum as Joanna closed her door and leaned hard against it in the darkness.

“I hate to see you get hurt,”
Cora Jane had said.

Oh, what Joanna wouldn't give to erase those words.

But how, when her sister's fears were her very own?

Eben made his way over the snow-covered ground to the Stoltzfus house, glad for the flashlight. He flicked it off and moved quietly into the dimly lit kitchen, still carrying his duffel bag. There, he found a lantern and a welcoming note, which reminded him of his own mother's hospitality.

Recalling where Joanna had said he was to sleep, Eben carried the lantern through the kitchen and toward the front room, into the guest bedroom on the right. Then, raising the wick a bit, he sat on the bed and opened his Bible to Matthew's gospel and began to read as he did each night.

After several chapters, his eyes felt scratchy, and he closed them. He recalled a long-ago afternoon. He and young Leroy had been in charge of bringing home the herd for milking. Leroy had carried a long stick, shaking it back and forth over the emerald-green pastureland as they headed toward Daed's big bank barn.

Eben had seen it first: a single-engine plane buzzing overhead. But it was Leroy whose wide eyes were filled with craving as he stopped suddenly to raise his stick and trace the plane's path across the sky, like an artist's brush on a vast blue canvas. Then and there, he stated,
“Mark my words, Eben. One day I'm goin' to fly like a bird.”

At the time, Eben had thought his brother meant he wanted to be a passenger on a flight someday. But no, even then Leroy's heart must have been set on being a pilot.

Years later, in the wee hours one night, the distinct sound of Leroy's tennis shoes squeaking in the upstairs hallway would record itself in Eben's brain. Stiffening under the covers, Eben had heard Leroy descend the stairs and knew better than to rush after him or attempt to call out to stop him. Eben hadn't even considered alerting their parents. No, when morning came, they all knew Leroy was gone.

Shaking off the miserable recollection, Eben began to pray the prayer he'd offered up ever since Leroy jumped the fence. But this night, he did so more earnestly than ever before:
O Lord, hear my prayer for my brother. Lead him back to us in your will and time, for your sake.

Eben paused, thinking how to phrase what he wanted to add.

And for Leroy's sake, too . . . as well as Joanna's and mine. Amen.

Joanna awakened full of anticipation the next morning. She slipped on her white cotton bathrobe, then raised the shade to peer out, welcoming the rosy daybreak. Another inch of snow had fallen in the night, making a soft covering over yesterday's accumulation. The beauty made her think of Eben, just a field away. Was he also up early, contemplating their day together?

Looking down, Joanna saw where a small fox, or perhaps a young deer, had cut across the newly fallen snow toward the pastureland, its tracks meandering around a walnut tree in the side yard. This time of year had always been bittersweet for her—the year had matured to its eleventh month, and wedding season was in full swing. The season brought joy to most families, but melancholy to the women who'd been passed over . . . another reminder of romantic rejection.

She moved from the window and returned to the small table next to her unmade bed.
Have I grown this year in the fear and admonition of the Lord?
She prayed so, and sat next to the window to read a single psalm before asking for a blessing on the day.

Joanna began to make a nice hot breakfast to start things off, even though Cora Jane's eyes were sending a silent message that Joanna was merely endeavoring to impress Eben.

Then, of all things, Cora Jane hurried off to cook breakfast next door, first making a mumbled effort to say where she'd be before leaving by way of the back door.

“You know your little sister,” Mamma said, excusing her to Joanna.

Joanna tried not to pay attention to the slight, keeping her focus on Eben's imminent arrival. With a fork, she lifted a slice of bacon in the pan to make sure it was perfectly crisp.

When Eben arrived and the food was ready, she and Mamma worked quickly to get everything on the table nice and hot. Then, eager to dig in, Dat led the silent prayer before the four of them enjoyed the tasty spread.

Surprisingly, Eben and Dat had plenty to say to each other during the breakfast of fruit, sticky buns, fried eggs, bacon, and blueberry pancakes. They discussed not just the weather, but the upcoming farm auctions, which made Joanna smile.

Dat likes him!

Mamma was also relaxed compared to last evening and seemed to know without being told that Joanna and Eben had plans for the remainder of his visit. In fact, Mamma practically shooed them out the door, saying she'd do the dishes alone. “Have yourselves a real nice time.”

“Denki. We will, Mamma,” Joanna said before settling into the sleigh amidst many warm lap robes, thanks once again to Dat. She was thrilled to be alone again with Eben—she'd never felt so comfortable with anyone.

Not far up the road, Joanna finally decided to reveal her love for writing. She'd wanted to wait for the ideal time.

“Stories? Really?” He was all smiles.

“And some poetry, too.”

“Well, I'm not surprised, given your letters—they're always so interesting. I really look forward to them.”

She didn't mention that other people—especially her circle letter pen pals—had told her they also enjoyed her descriptive letters. “But my stories are just for fun, kinda like your picture taking. I don't share them with anyone.”

“So . . . a secret writer.” He appeared to mull that over, then asked, “Do you ever write anyone you know into your stories? Me, for instance?”

She flirted back. “As a matter of fact . . .”

“Well, now I'm going to have to read them for certain.”

“Oh, you think so?” She laughed, but truly she was delighted.

“What's to hide?”

“No secrets,” Joanna said, more thankful than ever for her wonderful beau, someone with whom she could share all of her heart.

Their first stop was Smithy Riehl's blacksmith shop. Joanna was happy to see the stocky middle-aged man grip Eben's hand in a friendly handshake as he offered to show him around. Not wanting to listen in, she walked to the house and visited the smithy's wife, Leah, who was busy mending a pair of her husband's pants. Joanna sat and kept her company, all the while hoping Eben's visit here might bring a promise of work from the highly respected blacksmith.

“That's a fine young man you've got there,” Leah said, eyes smiling. “From round here?”

“Indiana,” Joanna was quick to say.

“Oh, is that right?”

She nodded, knowing the grapevine would be swinging soon. “I can help ya mend while I wait.”

Leah gave her some socks to darn, and the two women sat silently working, although Joanna couldn't help noticing Leah's frequent glances at her.

Later, when Joanna and Eben were on their way to the pond behind Samuel Lapp's barn, Eben volunteered some of what he and the smithy had discussed, including the fact that Eben was encouraged to do some apprentice work with the blacksmith back home.

“Have you been interested in blacksmithing for long?” Joanna asked.

“Well, I learned a few things from our smithy back home one summer, during my teens.” Eben explained that his father had urged him and his brothers to learn a trade, along with farming. “Daed always said, ‘Ya just never know when it might come in handy.' ”

Joanna felt reassured by the fact that her beau was planning ahead for their future as a married couple. As they rode along the familiar back roads, she realized just how wonderful life in Hickory Hollow would be with Eben by her side.

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