Chapter Twenty-Three
Ella could hardly believe her eyes and ears. On Friday evening, Hannes and his father appeared at the gate to the Troyers’ house. It was close to seven o’clock, and Linda was sitting outside, her feet resting on a wooden box as she fanned her face from the extreme heat.
Drusilla and Anna were sitting with her, the two of them arguing over who would work the morning shift the next day, since they both wanted to be home early in order to get dressed for the Clemens’ visit.
But lo and behold! Hannes and his father had appeared a day early.
“Hello there!”
Linda turned her head, and upon seeing Hannes at the gate, gasped and sat up, quickly reaching to touch her hair. “Why, Henry! I . . . I thought you and your father were coming tomorrow?” She appeared caught completely off guard by this surprise visit.
If he noticed, Hannes did not let on. Instead, he laughed good-naturedly, glancing at Ella for just a brief second before he turned to greet Drusilla and Anna, both of whom were straightening their dresses and smiling at him with such forced cheer that Ella feared they might shatter their teeth.
“We’ve arrived in town early,” Hannes said and gestured toward his father. “I wanted to introduce you to my daed, Johannes Clemens.”
The older man nodded his head once in Linda’s direction and then turned his attention on Drusilla and Anna. He appeared to be studying them, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together. While his attention was on the girls, Ella took advantage of his distraction and studied him.
He was a distinguished-looking man with graying hair and a long gray beard that hung past his second shirt button. Like Hannes, he was lean in his build, but he also appeared strong. His face was free from the deep wrinkles that often plagued aging Amish men. And his blue eyes, so similar to Hannes’s, twinkled just enough to appear lively.
Certainly Johannes Clemens was not a dull man.
“I’ve heard so much about your dochders,” Johannes said, his voice strong and clear. “Let me guess. You must be Drusilla.” He correctly held out his hand to shake Drusilla’s. “And that means that you must be Anna.”
Anna flushed and gave a girlish giggle as she shook his hand.
And then Johannes turned and saw Ella, standing near the doorway, out of the way but still close enough to greet.
Johannes nodded his head at her but said nothing, leaving Ella to wonder what, if anything, Hannes had told his father about her. Perhaps he had shared that she didn’t attend the youth gatherings and had not appeared for the charity auction.
Turning to face Linda, Johannes cleared his throat before he spoke. “Linda Troyer,” the elderly Clemens said cheerfully, “my son and I . . . we’re looking forward to supper tomorrow evening and wanted to confirm the time.”
Linda smiled at him, as pleasant as pleasant could be. “Why, five o’clock should be just fine.” She glanced at Drusilla, who sat primly on the edge of her seat, her bare feet tucked underneath her as she batted her eyes at Hannes. “Don’t you think, Dru?”
“Oh, ja, Maem. Five o’clock is right gut.”
Anna cleared her throat as if to draw attention to herself. “Enough time for visiting before supper, I should think.”
Ella felt invisible. Neither Hannes nor his father had acknowledged her presence.
And that hurt.
“Now, Linda,” Hannes’s father started, “there’s something I’d like to talk about with you.” He paused before adding, “In private.”
It was only after Linda and Johannes had stepped inside that Ella spoke up. “Would you care for some meadow tea? I made it fresh this afternoon.”
Hannes turned his head, his gaze focused on her at last. There was a coolness in his eyes as he responded, “How kind. Ja, Ella, I would like that.”
She stood up and hurried into the kitchen. Outside the window, she could hear Drusilla and Anna fighting for Hannes’s attention. Their voices grew loud and shrill as each one tried to be heard over the other. Ella stole a glance out the window and caught sight of Hannes trying to listen attentively, first to one and then to the other. It looked as if he were watching a volleyball game.
If it hadn’t been so comical, Ella might have felt sorry for him. But she quickly reminded herself that he had put himself into this very position with no help from anyone else.
After pouring the tea into a glass with two cubes of ice, Ella walked back onto the porch and handed it to him. For the briefest of moments, he hesitated before taking it from her. When she looked at him, he gave her a smile that caught her off guard.
“Danke, Ella.”
“You’re welcome, Hannes,” she managed to say, still surprised that he had directed any attention to her at all.
“Hannes?” Drusilla made a funny face, as if mocking her. “His name is Henry, Ella.” Her laugh sounded as cruel as it felt to Ella.
To his credit, Hannes leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Actually, Drusilla, my father calls me Hannes.”
The smile evaporated from Drusilla’s face.
“All of my good friends call me that.” He took a sip from the glass and set it down on the table. “Now, why don’t you tell me more about those wonderful cakes you both made, hmm?”
Anna glanced at her sister. “Why . . . of course, ja.”
Ella waited long enough to listen to Anna begin describing her poor man’s cake, not once talking about the recipe but her own satisfaction that Hannes had enjoyed it.
Shaking her head, Ella made her way back to the kitchen. She simply couldn’t listen to another deceitful word out of either girl’s mouth. If Hannes couldn’t see through their dishonesty, then perhaps he actually deserved to marry one of her stepsisters!
Not even five minutes later, Ella heard Linda’s voice as she rejoined her daughters and Hannes on the porch. Ella saw that the two men were preparing to leave, so she slipped outside once again, knowing she couldn’t be discourteous, even if she felt it was warranted.
“Then we shall see you tomorrow, ja?”
Johannes nodded and gestured for his son to join him on the steps. “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”
As the two men descended the steps and began to cross the walkway toward the gate, Linda waved her hand in the air. They paused, smiling briefly, before they disappeared down the street.
Immediately, Linda spun on her heels to face her daughters.
“Maem! Tell us what Johannes said!” Drusilla insisted.
Anna clapped her hands before her chest. “Ja, tell us. Does he want to court one of us?” She shut her eyes and smiled to herself. “Oh, I do so hope it’s me!”
Drusilla nudged her. “Oh, hush, Anna. There are more important things, like whether they want to buy the store. Do they, Maem?”
Linda licked her lips as she contemplated her daughters. There was something edgy about her expression, and Ella leaned forward in order to better hear Linda’s response.
“Court you? Buy the store?” Her words were drawn out in a dramatic fashion. “Oh, ja. Ja, indeed.”
Both girls screamed in delight and reached to hug each other. And then, as if realizing that they were embracing their competition, they quickly split apart and scowled for a moment.
Linda returned to her seat. She sighed and shut her eyes as she put her feet atop a wooden box.
Ella couldn’t help but wonder what was bothering her stepmother. After all, this was what she had wanted—to marry off a daughter and sell the store. But from the look on her face, something else weighed heavily on her mind.
“What is it, Maem?” Anna asked.
Drusilla made a face at her sister before she asked her own impatient question. “Which one of us has he chosen?”
“He hasn’t chosen yet,” Linda said with a hint of irritation in her voice. “Which makes tomorrow’s supper even more important.”
“Oh, Ella, please say you’ll work at the store tomorrow!” Anna cried out. “I’ll need to get ready so that I can look my best!”
“Have you forgotten that she’s going to cook the meal? Besides, she’s going to work in the morning for me, Anna, not you!” Drusilla declared.
Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “And what makes you so certain of that?”
“Because that Henry Clemens is going to choose me!”
“That’s not fair!” Anna looked at her mother. “Tell her that’s not fair, Maem! She already has Timothy Miller wanting to court her!”
“Oh, pshaw!” Drusilla waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Timothy Miller is a farmer, not a businessman.”
As their voices continued to rise, each one pressing her case loud enough for half of the town to hear, Linda raised her hand. “Enough!” She rubbed her temples and began pacing the floor. “Neither of you will work tomorrow at all.”
Silence.
“In fact,” Linda continued, now that she had their attention, “the store will be closed early.”
In all the years that Ella could remember, the store had never closed early unless for a wedding or funeral.
“Why’s that, Maem?” Drusilla asked.
“Because we need to prepare for the dinner with Johannes and his son. The results of that dinner will affect their business proposition with me.” Despite what should have been joyous news, Linda did not appear happy. It was more than apparent that their proposition was not entirely to Linda’s satisfaction.
“What type of business proposition?” Anna prodded, having picked up on the pall of seriousness in her mother’s voice.
Linda lifted her chin and stared down her nose at her daughters. “The fact is that the father will buy the business for more than enough money to pay my debts and take care of me for years to come, but only if his son marries one of my daughters.” She narrowed her eyes. “And Henry insists that he will only consider wedding the one who baked that pie from Saturday night.”
Ella couldn’t help but avert her eyes, but not before she caught sight of Linda, who was standing there, her arms crossed over her chest, scowling. She looked none too pleased.
Clearing her throat, Linda continued. “That’s right, Drusilla and Anna. Since there was such confusion over which one of you, exactly, made that pie, he wants you each to make it after supper tomorrow,” she said and paused until both of her daughters looked at her. “By yourself.”
Simultaneously, Drusilla and Anna turned their heads to look, wide-eyed, at Ella.
“You have to make it for me!” Drusilla cried out as Anna mirrored her sister’s sentiment. Drusilla gasped and turned toward Anna. “Henry favors me, Anna, not you!”
Anna looked taken aback. “He said no such thing!” She looked at her mother. “Ain’t so, Maem?”
While the two young women bickered, Ella felt a heaviness in her heart. How could it be that Hannes would base the commitment of a lifetime on a pie? Crestfallen, she looked down at the ground and shook her head. Whatever God’s plan was for her, she had never expected this.
Linda held up her hand to stop her quarreling daughters. “Unfortunately, that won’t be possible. There’s a stipulation,” she said slowly. Immediately Drusilla and Anna quieted, their attention riveted on their mother. “He wishes the pie to be fresh—so fresh that he’d like you to make it while he’s here.”
Both Drusilla and Anna gasped, and Ella looked up in surprise. Such an odd request.
“Maem!” Drusilla flung her hands into the air. “You know that’s impossible! I can’t bake!”
Linda raised an eyebrow. “Then I suggest you start practicing!” she snapped. “One of you must bake that pie and win his affections. It’s the only way to save us from financial ruin and ensure that we have a future!”
Quickly, Ella stood up and excused herself. She could not possibly listen to one more word. Her sisters were bartering with each other over a man of whom they knew practically nothing. They were basing their affection on two things: his handsome looks and his father’s money. There was no discussion about Hannes’s commitment to the community, his devotion to his family, or, most importantly, his dedication to serving God.
And on a more personal level, neither Drusilla nor Anna knew anything about his personality, his depth of character, or his charming sense of humor.
All of those were the things that Ella knew created a strong foundation for friendship, and only with that foundation could love ever develop.
Hannes Clemens was not an object to be bartered for. He was a man. And yet Ella couldn’t help but feel disappointed in his decision to select a bride in such a manner. Her mother had always teased that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Clearly she hadn’t been jesting.
The only good news, Ella thought, was that Drusilla also hadn’t been joking. Neither one of them knew how to bake, never mind cook or clean or sew. If winning a man’s heart was done through a meal, there was little chance of either Drusilla or Anna claiming much of a victory. The only thing they would achieve was to give Hannes Clemens a good case of indigestion.