The Photograph (17 page)

“Sure.” She was glad she didn't have to propose their route.

Jed smiled at her, though she could scarcely see his features now that the sun was down and the shooting rays of light had vanished from the sky.

“Are ya lookin' forward to getting back to work?” She was anxious to start the conversation again.

“We do have a backlog of orders. Besides that, Bettina might have some news for me when I return.”

“What sort of news?”

“She loves a
gut
mystery, so she's makin' me wait
 . . .
and wonder. But I do have an inkling. Best not to say more till she confirms it, though.” Jed also mentioned their recent celebration of Ascension Day, which he said most Ohio Amish communities observed. “I do know of Amish in Indiana who treat it like any other day, however.”

“
Ach
, our bishop wouldn't hear of that.”

Jed nodded. “The businesses in Berlin close, and
die Youngie
team up to play softball or volleyball. What 'bout here—what did you do?”

“Mostly just played games and went visiting, like a no-Preaching Sunday. Frona encouraged us to spend time thinking 'bout how the day commemorates the Lord's physical ascension into heaven.” She paused a moment. “Some districts have church; it just depends on the bishop, I guess
 . . .
and the standard custom.”

Jed shifted on the seat beside her. “Would ya say your bishop is traditionally strict, then? 'Specially with the youth?”

“Oh, prob'ly as strict as most older bishops. He's in his midseventies, same as Abner Mast across the road. Abner is my friend Naomi's husband.”

“It sounds like Jonas's bishop is also firm on the
Ordnung
,” Jed said.

“Well, that's because his bishop and ours happen to be one and the same.”

“I would've guessed the two church districts might be closer in proximity, then.”

“Actually, it's been that way since I was little.”

He glanced at her. “May I be so bold as to ask why Naomi is such a close friend?”

“Honestly, Lily was when we were growin' up. She was my best sounding board, too, but that changed after Mamma died. Naomi became more of a confidante then. She was so close to my mother
 . . .
really wanted me to know I wasn't alone.” Eva had stuck her neck out and hoped to goodness he wouldn't probe further. She wasn't sure she was up to talking more about either Lily or Mamma tonight.

Jed's voice grew softer. “Life throws us curve balls sometimes.”

“Still, I like to remember that the heart of love is always kindness, even with a difficult family member.”

Jed was mum.

“
Ach
, sorry. I didn't mean to talk out of turn,” she said.

“Sometimes the ones closest to us are the real test.” Jed seemed to understand. “In fact, my Dawdi Stutzman has often said that ‘familiarity breeds contempt.'”

“He must've read Aesop's fables, then.”

“As a matter of fact, he has. What about your family—are they big readers?”

“We all are. It's a
gut
way to experience new things without ever leavin' home.” She also told him she liked to read the Bible to start the day.

“Then you must know Psalm 50? Maybe from memory: ‘And call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me,'” he recited, smiling when Eva joined him for the last phrase.

“That's such a comfort,” she said, considering it. “We're taught to regularly read
die
Biewel
in both
Deitsch
and King James English, but we don't purposely memorize Scripture. I s'pose after reading passages often enough, though, they become part of our thoughts. And that's certainly one of them.”

“Our bishop actually encourages us to study and memorize passages from Scripture.”

She found this interesting but didn't care to debate the differences between their church districts. Not on their first and possibly only date.

After some time, a half-moon rose, and Eva was able to see Jed better as they made their way along the two-lane road toward the small junction at Nickel Mines. She looked forward to being able to see his expressions as they talked across the table during dessert.

Jed directed the horse into a small café parking lot, where newly painted white lines marked individual spots. “Are you hungry yet?”

“Mostly thirsty
 . . .
maybe for a root beer float.”

Jed grinned, looking quite dapper in his straw hat with its narrow brim. “Whatever you'd like.”

She waited for him to tie the horse to the hitching post, then come around and open her side of the carriage. When he offered his hand, she took it and felt her heart skip a beat.

T
HE
N
ICKEL
M
INES
CAFÉ
'
S
DINING
ROOM
was a narrow space with windows on both sides. The soda fountain sat at the far north end, where, from Eva's vantage point, its counter shone with a glossy finish. A lone yellow rose adorned each of a handful of tables, the one in the middle of their particular table having lost its vitality. Eva reached out to touch its pretty petals and tried to prop up the blossom with the stem's leaves. “Looks like we might be the last customers today,” she whispered.

Jed glanced around. “Are you all right here, or would ya like to move to a different spot?”

“One with a perkier flower, maybe?” she joked, surprising herself. Now that she could see his face better, she felt more comfortable. The waning light of the ride over had felt a bit distancing.

He grinned. “So, are ya sure it's just a root beer float for you?”

The waitress was heading their way, a pencil pushed into her hair above one ear.

“Sounds
gut
.” Eva leaned back in her chair, letting him order.

Once the waitress retreated to put in their requests, Eva brought
up his apprenticeship, and they settled into another interesting conversation. And later, she enjoyed seeing him become even more talkative after a few bites of carrot cake.
Must be the sugar,
she thought.

“I'd like to see you again before I leave Monday afternoon,” Jed said, appealing to her with his engaging eyes. The way he looked at her, so inquisitively at times, made her wonder what he was thinking. “Is there a place we could go walkin' tomorrow afternoon following your Preaching service?” he asked.

“I know a spot.” She felt pleased. “Naomi and her husband have a large property with a big pond—I'll bring some bread crusts to feed the ducks.”

Jed nodded. “I haven't done that in years. Are ya sure your neighbors won't mind?”

“Not in the least,” she said most assuredly, her heart already beating more quickly at the prospect of seeing him again.

Why don't I feel
like this with Alfred?

Jed did his best to keep the horse trotting steadily as they headed back toward Eden Valley. He wished the night would slow down. Eva was not only fun to be with; she seemed to be warming up to him.

“What if I wrote you a letter when I get home to Ohio?” He didn't think it was too soon to ask.

“Well, I'd read it, of course.”

He laughed. “And if you read it, would you write back?”

“Depends on what you write.”

He delighted in her bantering. “I'll be careful what I say,” he promised.

“
Gut,
then.”

And they left it right there as their time together drew to a close.

He glanced at her, and she was smiling. Her eyes caught his, and her pretty face brightened all the more. The moment passed between them, and within it was an understanding that neither wanted to let it go.

When they pulled up to the end of her driveway, Jed tied the horse to the nearby fence post and went to help Eva down from the buggy, happy to offer his hand again, wishing he could keep hers in his.
Too soon for such affection,
he reminded himself as he walked with her to the back door and said good-night.

He returned to the carriage and untied the horse, and it was all he could do to keep from leaping into the driver's side. Not delaying, he urged the horse back out to the highway, and up and down the hills toward the Bylers'.

A glance at his watch with the help of a flashlight showed that it was much later than he'd planned, and he hoped Eva's older sister hadn't waited up. And what might Jonas and Elsie Byler think of his borrowing their buggy and returning it so late?
Especially
since I'm not out with their granddaughter Orpha!

He remembered something Eva had said earlier tonight, when they were talking.
“The heart of love is always kindness.”

He'd read that before, but where?
In her book, perhaps?

Pulling into the Bylers' long lane, Jed wondered what Lydiann might have thought of Eva. Would she have liked her, too? What a peculiar thought, yet considering how much he'd loved his fiancée, he realized it wasn't strange after all.

Jah,
thought Jed,
she would definitely approve.

B
Y
THE
TIME
THEY
ARRIVED
at Bishop Isaac's farm a little before eight o'clock Sunday morning, Eva felt somewhat settled, enough to attend worship. But as soon as she and Frona stepped into line with the other womenfolk, one after another began to whisper concerns about Lily. Some even had questions.

Everyone knows,
Eva thought, stiffening.

“Have ya heard from your dear sister?” Sylvia Lantz's grandmother Suzanne asked, blinking her milky blue eyes, her cane dangling off her arm.

“
Ach
, you mustn't worry,” Frona said. “Not at your age!” and then added something Eva could not hear in a reassuring tone.

Others, just as well meaning, asked how she and Frona were getting along. Although Eva knew it was all in a spirit of compassion, it nevertheless was beginning to wear thin.

When Menno's wife, Bena, arrived, Eva observed her walk across the backyard with little Katie Ann in tow. Their matching blue mother-daughter dresses moved gracefully around their calves, and they had on new black shoes.

“We'll sit with ya,” Bena said with a sweet smile when she approached. This sister-in-law had always been one to exhibit the utmost reverence for the Lord's Day. It was one of the reasons Eva's mother had liked her so well for Menno when they were first dating. Mamma had shared this with Eva when she also reached courting age, wanting to note a good example.

“
Denki,
” Eva whispered and lowered her head, hoping not to attract any more attention to Frona and herself.

———

During Preaching, Eva fought to keep her mind on the ministers' sermons—the first one an hour long—and also during the second, lengthier sermon. Their pointed words were a clear warning to young people not to entertain foolish notions.
Like Lily's,
thought Eva.

When it was time for the final silent prayer, they all turned to kneel at their wooden benches, and Eva beseeched almighty God to lead Lily home according to His loving and sovereign will.
I trust
Thy wisdom, heavenly Father. Be our compassionate guide, and strength
and comfort. May Thy protecting hand cover my wayward sister,
Lily, and grant all of us divine peace.

After the announcements, Eva made her way outside with the other young women her age while the benches were converted into tables for the shared meal. She noticed Alfred Dienner's mother, Miriam, talking with Naomi Mast on the back porch. Miriam and her sister had been assisting the bishop's wife with serving cold cuts and pie, but Miriam made a real show of smiling and waving at Eva.

For
goodness' sake,
thought Eva.
What has Alfred told her?

With a bag of bread crusts in hand, Eva waited for Jed beneath two sheltering oaks that balmy Lord's Day afternoon. Since her first unexpected meeting with him, Eva believed she'd crossed
an imaginary line in her mind, and perhaps in her heart.
My sister leaves
 . . .
and Jed
arrives,
she thought, torn between sadness and exuberance.

She recalled Naomi's endearing smile after the common meal, when Eva asked if it was all right to go walking with Jed around the Masts' pond. Not only had Naomi said repeatedly that it was fine, but she offered to leave some treats and cold lemonade in the backyard gazebo,
“if you won't think I'm interfering.”

Now, spotting the Bylers' gray carriage coming into view, Eva's heart thrilled to see Jed wave out the window. His enthusiasm delighted her, and she waved back.

The sun dazzled everything in sight—suddenly the meadow looked greener and Naomi's climbing roses a brighter pink, as if Eva's surroundings were tinged by her own happiness.

“I'm glad to see you again, Eva.” Jed's voice was warm as he offered her a hand up, then went around the buggy to get into the driver's side.

“It's all right if you want to pull into Abner's lane,” she suggested with a smile. “He won't mind.”

“What if we just ride for a while first? All right with you?”

Eva was perfectly content to sit there next to him and asked about his morning, knowing the Bylers' church district had an off-Sunday, since their shared bishop had held the Preaching service for Eden Valley at his own house. Jed mentioned a quiet breakfast with Jonas and his wife, then family worship, followed by a long walk around their property.

“How was your Preaching service today?” he inquired.

“The house was packed,” she said softly. “I don't think anyone was missing, come to think of it.” She caught herself. “Except for Lily. And I almost wonder if that wasn't the reason for the larger than usual attendance.” She mentioned a good number of people had offered to pray for Lily.

“Reminds me of our church.” Jed tilted his head thoughtfully. “It's God's way—the People lookin' after each other.”

She nodded in full agreement. “It does help, but it doesn't always ease the pain.”

“I understand,” he said quietly, taking his time. At last he met her gaze. “You see, I lost my fiancée to an accident a year ago.”

“Oh, Jed.” Her heart broke for him.

He inhaled deeply. “Lydiann died instantly, I was told
 . . .
a blessing for her, but
 . . .”
He paused, clearly uncomfortable with the recollection. “Not for the rest of us. At the time, I didn't think I could bear it.”

“I'm so sorry.” Eva didn't ask about the accident.
Some
things are just too painful.

“It was shocking, sure, but no more than your father's death was for you and your family.”

“There's no time to say good-bye with a sudden loss, but it's quick and over with for the person,” she said. “A lingering illness gives time for the family to accept the death, but the patient suffers more—like Mamma did.”

Jed glanced at her, his expression caring. “Afterward, I remember feeling exhausted all the time. I couldn't seem to get enough sleep.”

“Oh, and ya feel so alone,” she admitted, swallowing the lump in her throat. “At Mamma's burial service, I kept wonderin' if anyone could see how forlorn I felt
 . . .
ever so lost.” She glanced at Jed. “Like the orphan I am.”

Jed was nodding his head. “For me, it seemed like my hopes and plans dried up. It took days, even weeks, for the truth to sink in. I kept wakin' up and thinking it was a horrible dream.”

“I felt that way for months, too, but not so much about my future hopes as for the giant hole in our family.”

“Did you find yourself wishing you'd done something different the day of your father's death?” he asked.

“For sure. To this day, I wish I had cut one more piece of my birthday cake for him.”

Jed's eyebrows rose. “Your father died on your birthday?”

She bowed her head. “My sixteenth—four years ago. It was terrible.”

They talked further, more slowly now. Then Eva asked, “What about you? Did ya wish you could change anything 'bout the day Lydiann died?”

“Over and over, I wish I'd offered to take her to visit her aunt, instead of letting her go with her younger brother—as if
I
had the power to change God's will.”

He turned to face her again, and in his eyes she saw the pain he carried, the enormous loss.

“I'm learning a lot about faith through grieving—trusting that our sovereign Lord knows what is best for each of us
 . . .
about everything,” Eva whispered, blinking away tears. “To be honest, it's a difficult journey.”

“
Jah
, for certain.” Jed reached for her hand, and despite her sadness at what she had lost, Eva felt an irrepressible joy.

After the ride, Jed pulled into the Masts' lane and tied up the horse under a shade tree. They set off walking toward the pond, where there was a grove of willows along one side, nourished by the water. Jed set an easy pace as they enjoyed soothing breezes beneath the graceful branches. The place was peaceful, hidden by dozens of green tendrils.

“My father cautioned me against bitterness in the early days after the accident,” Jed admitted. “I was sorely tempted to fall into that pit.
Ach
, there were days
 . . .”

She purposely didn't look at him, lest he was struggling. “I can't imagine your loss, Jed.”

“And I can't know
yours
. I have a feeling that each loss is different
 . . .
and unique, too, in how a person grieves.”

“With my father's death, I mostly fought the disbelief—the shock of it—and with Mamma's illness, I felt so helpless. Oh, the sorrow, the ache in my heart for them both once they were gone.”

Jed glanced at the sky, then back at her. He mentioned someone had indicated he'd taken Lydiann's loss too hard, that he should have gotten over his sadness sooner, since they hadn't married yet. “But no one can really say how another person should grieve, or for how long.”

Eva fully understood.
Oh, do I ever!

A cloud concealed the sun from their view as they emerged from the willow grove. Eva spotted several ducks gliding through the water toward them. “I think they must know somethin',” she whispered, opening the bag and breaking off a long piece of crust for Jed. “Lookee there.”

She pinched off a small piece and tossed it, and then another, and Jed did the same. He looked so handsome in his Sunday clothes—black trousers, white shirt, and black suspenders, and his narrow-brimmed straw hat, too. She had to remind herself to feed the ducks instead of watching Jed squat to toss the crumbs into the pond.

Soon, two larger ducks waddled out of the water and came right up to Jed, quacking for more. He held his hand flat, and the first duck ate off of his palm.

“They're not afraid of you.” Eva was intrigued. “Lily can do that, too. The ducks and Canada geese come right up to her.”

Jed looked at her. “You've suffered a third loss,” he said so tenderly she thought she might cry. “Lily's leaving an' all.”

“A frustrating kind of loss,
jah
.”
Because no one knows how it'll end.

He rose and brushed off his hands, but the two ducks stood there quacking for more.

“Here, why don't you take the rest.” She was amused by his interaction with the more persistent birds.

Jed pinched off a few more pieces and moved closer to the water. Now many more ducks were swimming this way, some flapping their dark wings and splashing as they came.

Once the crumbs were gone, Jed and Eva walked twice around the pond's perimeter, and each time, when they wandered beneath the willows, Jed took her hand.

“I'd like to see your candy shop before I leave town,” he said. “Might I drop by tomorrow?”