Chapter Eighteen
The wall clock chimed twelve times, each chime reverberating in the empty house. Ella waited until it stopped, as if the twelfth chime were some magical cue. When the last chime finished resonating, she packaged up the cakes and pie in a basket, placing a horizontal wooden divider between each item so that not one of them would get damaged in transit. First went the poor man’s cake, then the lazy-daisy oatmeal cake, and finally, on the top, she carefully placed her own apple crisp pie.
Pushing aside the feelings of guilt for disobeying her stepmother, Ella covered the basket and hurried out the door so that she could drop off the treats at the schoolhouse and quickly return home before she was even missed.
The previous night, while trying to sleep, Ella had tossed and turned, debating with herself whether or not she should disobey her stepmother’s orders. And yet, every time she almost convinced herself to forget the whole thing, that defying Linda was certainly not worth the inevitable mistreatment that would ensue, Ella’s mother’s words echoed in her ears: Be kind and good, no matter what happens, for God has a plan for you.
And that was when Ella made up her mind.
Baking a pie for charity was a good thing. Her stepmother had no right telling anyone—never mind her own stepdaughter!—not to participate. Even if Linda insisted that she couldn’t attend the event—something else that was ridiculous!—Ella had every right to donate a pie, especially since she had already agreed to bake Drusilla’s and Anna’s cakes.
So she had arisen extra early and finished baking the bread for the store long before the others had woken. Then, when everyone had left the house for the day, Ella had quickly baked not just the cake for Drusilla’s donation and the cake for Anna’s donation, but also her favorite pie from her mother’s secret recipe.
No one would stop Ella from doing the right thing, and donating the pie was just that: the right thing to do.
However, the entire time that she had been baking the pie, her heart beat rapidly and her nerves were on edge. Oh, how she felt deceitful and underhanded, as if she were doing something terrible and not merely disobeying her stepmother! The only way that Ella had managed to follow through with finishing the pie was that she continued to remind herself that she was an adult and Linda was not her mother. Just like every other baptized woman in the church, Ella had the right to make up her own mind over something as simple as baking a pie for a charity auction.
And yet, Ella had still felt anxious and skittish. When the wall clock had begun chiming at noon, she had nearly jumped out of her skin, as if she expected her stepmother to magically appear, catching her in the act of packing up the baked goods.
But no one had returned to the house.
Relieved, Ella secured the lid on the basket and hurried to the door.
Even if Linda or one of her daughters saw her walking through town with the basket, they wouldn’t question why she was in town. After all, someone had to deliver the baked goods to the teacher for the auction. If she bumped into either of her stepsisters on the main street of town, Ella knew that neither one of them would bother checking to see how many items were in the basket. They were more concerned with who might buy their cakes.
Ella’s secret was safe at last!
She was halfway to the schoolhouse when she caught sight of Hannes, leaning against a tree and carving the bark off of a stick. He seemed to be waiting for something. . . or, perhaps, someone.
Ella shifted the basket to her other hand, hiding it behind her skirt.
“Ella Troyer!” He flung the stick to the ground and shut his small knife blade. “I thought I might run into you today.” Shoving the knife into his back pocket, he jogged over to walk alongside her.
“Oh, ja?” She smiled back at him. “And why’s that, Hannes?”
He gestured toward the school. “All the young women are bringing their baked goods for tonight’s event. I figured I’d be seeing you around sooner or later.”
She laughed. “So you’ve been standing out here all morning, then?”
“Oh, Ella.” He gave her a soft smile. “I’d have waited all day if that’s what it took to get a moment alone with you.”
His confession caught her off guard, and she blushed.
He must have sensed her discomfort, as he quickly resumed his teasing tone. “After all, I wanted to find out which pie I should bid on tonight.”
“Which pie?” She gave him a sideways glance. “Why, I reckon you’d buy the one that you fancy the most!”
“Or the one made by the baker I fancy the most, since I’m supposed to share the first piece with her!”
Ella had forgotten about that. “Oh help,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. How could she have forgotten the evening when Linda was ranting and raving about this new twist to the auction?
“Is something the matter?”
Quickly, she shook her head. “Nee, nee.” She tried to compose herself. “It’s just that . . .” Think fast, she told herself. “. . . I couldn’t tell you which pie I baked.”
He stopped walking and faced her. “Why ever not?”
A smile formed on her lips. “That would be cheating.”
“Cheating?” He placed his hand on his chest in mock horror. “Me? Why, I’d never stoop so low as to sneak a peek at your pie!”
Ella felt her heart skip a beat. And, from the way her cheeks grew warm, she knew that she was blushing. What was it about Hannes that made her constantly flush pink?
“Besides,” he said in a tone that suggested he was telling her a big secret, “I’m not the only fellow lingering around the schoolhouse trying to catch a glimpse of his girl bringing in her treat.”
Ella blinked. Had she heard him correctly? Had Hannes just called her his girl? Her heart quickened at the thought. Surely she had misheard him! Still, her mind reeled at the possibility that she hadn’t. Did Hannes actually consider her to be walking out with him? They’d only had a few interactions, and nothing that remotely bordered on a formal courtship. While the idea of courting Hannes—seriously courting him!—was certainly not unpleasant to her, she also knew that he would return to Blue Springs soon enough, and she’d probably never see him again.
Hannes interrupted her whirlwind of thoughts.
“See?” Hannes gestured with this head toward the far side of the schoolhouse, where, along the road that led into town from the south, two young men were leaning against their buggies, talking to each other as casually as could be. And yet, the one kept glancing over his shoulder toward the road as if waiting for someone to appear.
Ella recognized the man as Paul Hostetler, and he was most likely waiting for Martha Esh. It was common knowledge that he fancied her, even though Martha hadn’t been too quick to reciprocate his affections. At least not openly.
“Now,” Hannes said lightly, “if you won’t tell me what pie you made, let me at least carry the basket and walk with you the rest of the way to the school.”
Relinquishing the basket to his care, Ella gave him a feigned stern look and wagged her finger at him. “No peeking.”
“It’s heavy.” He felt the basket, raising and lowering it several times. “Let me guess.” He scrunched up his eyes as if thinking hard. “I’m supposing there are three pies in here.” He pretended to feel the basket once again. “No. Make that two cakes and one pie.”
Ella gasped. “However did you know?”
Nudging her arm with his own, he started walking again. “I am a man who knows his desserts.”
As they walked to the schoolhouse, Ella glanced at the general store. To her surprise, her stepmother was standing outside the doors, her arms crossed over her chest. There was an angry look upon her face, and Ella realized that Linda had certainly witnessed her talking with Hannes. Now her stepmother was watching as Hannes carried the basket and accompanied her to the schoolhouse.
Oh help, she thought. Surely this will not end well at home.
Ella lowered her head and wished she knew why, exactly, her stepmother looked so very angry.
Inside the schoolhouse, Ella greeted the teacher, Elizabeth Grimm. Today she wore a pretty, light green dress, and with her blond hair pulled back, neatly tucked under her prayer kapp, she looked every bit the proper Amish woman.
“Gut morgan, Ella.” She stood up and hurried around the desk to greet Ella. Her eyes glanced over Hannes. “And you are . . . ?”
He set the basket on the edge of the desk. “. . . Buying the desserts in this basket later tonight.”
Elizabeth tried not to laugh. “Oh? Is that so?”
With a wink at Ella, Hannes patted the top of the basket with all of the confidence in the world. “That’s for sure and certain.”
“You haven’t peeked, have you?” Elizabeth asked.
Hannes shook his head. “I’d never stoop so low.”
Elizabeth tried to hide her amusement at Hannes’s serious declaration. She lifted the lid of the basket and peered inside. “Oh Ella! You made your maem’s special . . .” She stopped short before giving away what it was and glanced at Hannes as she added, “. . . dessert.”
“Special dessert? What makes it so special?” Hannes asked.
Ella feigned a look of secrecy. “She always made it with a secret ingredient.”
Hannes rubbed his hands together. “And the plot thickens!”
Smiling, Elizabeth placed her hands on the basket handle. “Now, you know you’re supposed to eat the first piece of dessert with the young woman who baked it, ja?” She lifted the basket. “And this feels like it’s holding more than one. I hope you bring your appetite as well as your money to bid.”
“I shall bring both, Teacher.” He dipped his head in a charmingly exaggerated manner that caused Elizabeth to laugh and Ella to blush. “Now, we’d best leave you to sort out the pie . . .” He glanced at Ella. “. . . and cakes.”
Once outside, Ella glanced toward the general store. Sure enough, Linda was still standing there. Only now, her two daughters stood on either side of her. Both of them glowered in her direction.
Hannes must have seen Ella look toward the store, for he did the same, and upon seeing the unwelcome—and clearly unhappy—audience, he exhaled sharply. He reached for Ella’s arm and began to guide her down the street.
“Let me walk you home, Ella,” he said in a low voice. “Seems a bit crowded in town for us to talk any more here.”
Any sort of response was trapped in her throat. Simply put, Ella couldn’t speak. She had seen that look once before on Linda’s face, and that was just the previous week when Ella had left the Scrabble game early. What was it about Hannes Clemens that Linda did not like? From what Ella had observed, he was a good Christian man with fair business practices—and a lot of patience, considering he was still apparently dealing with Linda!
Suddenly, it dawned on Ella that her stepmother might not have a problem with Hannes, but with the attention he was bestowing on her.
The day of the Scrabble game, both Drusilla and Anna had appeared particularly pleased when their mother told Ella she couldn’t go to the youth singing. And when they had witnessed Hannes talking with Ella in the street earlier that week, both of them had looked especially irritated. Was it possible that Drusilla and Anna were complaining to their mother? After all, both girls had made it quite clear that they were interested in Henry “Hannes” Clemens, and Ella knew that Linda would stop at nothing to get her daughters anything they wanted.
“Are you feeling okay?”
Startled from her thoughts, Ella realized she had forgotten that Hannes was still walking beside her. Absentmindedly, she nodded.
But he clearly didn’t believe her.
“I trust I didn’t get you into any sort of”—he paused as if struggling for the correct word—“strife with your stepmother.”
Too quickly, Ella shook her head. “Nee, of course not.” But even she knew that the words were not believable.
“Ella?” He prodded gently. “That doesn’t sound convincing.”
She forced a smile. “She’ll just be wondering why I wasn’t home finishing my chores.”
For a moment, Hannes was silent, as if contemplating what she had said. They continued walking toward the white house near the edge of town, Ella deep in thought and Hannes remaining quiet. It was only when they stopped at the white gate that he spoke at last.
“Ella, I certainly hope that I see you later this evening.” There was something amiss about the way he said that. “I would be disappointed if you were not there.”
Ella stared at the ground. She couldn’t meet his gaze, too afraid that he might see the truth in her expression.
He took a deep breath and sighed. “It’s been rather difficult to get to spend any time with you.”
She swallowed, her pulse quickening. What was he trying to say? That if she did not attend, his disappointment would hinder him from pursuing a courtship? Had she misread him all along? Or did he simply think she wasn’t interested in him and was, perhaps, avoiding him?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, this time avoiding his gaze for fear that he would see the tears that now welled in her eyes. She simply had to get to the charity event. She couldn’t disappoint him one more time. “I . . . I had best get inside to finish my chores.”
She started to turn when he reached out and touched her arm, holding her back. She had no choice but to look at him. His blue eyes studied her face, and she saw him frown. Oh! How could she blame him for not wanting to walk out with someone like her? Her situation at home was far too complicated, thanks to Linda and her daughters.
“I’ll see you later?” The way he asked was more than just a question. It was almost as if there was a warning in his tone.
God willing, I’ll be there, she thought, but her heart remained heavy. Instead of saying what she was thinking, she merely nodded her head and hurried off, the tears quickly falling from her eyes as soon as she was a safe distance away. How could she have thought Hannes was enamored with her if he would give up so easily?