17

The following Monday, Ellie rose early to kneel beside her bed as usual. It was the day of Evan’s scheduled departure for his physical and induction, and like on each of the days leading up to this one, she asked God to help her brother survive the war.

After the prayer, she read from her Bible, then dressed and raised her window shades to look out at the acres of fruit trees while winding her hair neatly into its usual thick bun. “Two long years without Evan,” she murmured.

His future role as orchard manager was “up in the air now,” Mamm had told her yesterday with a somber look. Ellie had assumed Dat and Jonah would oversee things, though with the recent huddles she’d seen between the two, she had to wonder what would be decided. I have some ideas to discuss with Dat, too.

Downstairs, Ellie discovered a hot breakfast casserole made with ham, scrambled eggs, shredded potatoes, and cheese topped by a hearty white sauce. It didn’t surprise her that Mamm had risen extra early to make this special farewell breakfast. Despite their concern, her parents had not changed one iota in showing compassion toward their wayward son.

After the tasty breakfast, Ellie asked Evan to go into the front room with her. There, she handed him an envelope. “Open it when ya get settled in at Fort Polk, okay?”

He grimaced. “I didn’t write anything for you.”

“It’s just some late-night thoughts,” she told him. “You’ll write me when ya can.”

“Well, there won’t be much time for letter writing the first two weeks of boot camp, I’m afraid.”

“I can wait.” She nodded, a lump in her throat. “I’ll be prayin’ for you every day.”

He smiled fleetingly and placed the envelope in a zippered pouch on the outside of his duffel bag. “Take care of yourself, Ellie.”

“You too.” She’d barely eked out the words.

He frowned suddenly. “I’m not too sure how an Amish guy’s gonna fit in with . . .” He pressed his lips together hard.

“Oh, Evan . . .” She reached to quickly hug him.

He straightened and seemed to gather his wits. “S’pose I should go say good-bye to the rest of the family.”

She bit her lip, staying there as Evan left the front room. Then, hearing him talking to their parents and Dawdi out in the kitchen, she moved to the front windows and stared out at the sad gray sky, waiting. Evan had let them know Cheryl was coming to drive him to the bus station.

How will our days be without him?

———

While Evan was saying good-bye to his mother and grandfather in the kitchen, Lyle grabbed his sweater from the utility room and pulled it on. Then he buttoned it up as he headed out the side door with his youngest son, down the porch steps, and across the yard.

Unexpectedly, Evan paused and turned to face him. “I don’t want ya worried ’bout me, Dat.”

“Nee,” Lyle said, even though he felt a tearing in his heart. “I’ll be prayin’, though . . . never doubt it.” With that, he clamped his hand solidly on Evan’s shoulder. “Every day, son, I’ll ask the Lord for your safe homecomin’ and for Him to help ya find your way back to Him and the People.”

Straight-faced, Evan gave a swift nod, then turned toward the lane tall and erect, his shoulders squared.

Lyle drew a ragged breath and stared at his son’s back, stamping the image on his memory. “Keep in touch when ya can,” he called.

When a car pulled up, Evan turned briefly and raised his hand to wave. Then he opened the back door and threw in his bag before slipping in to the front passenger seat. The car sped away.

Clenching his teeth, Lyle stood there, heart pounding. When he turned toward the house, he saw Ellie at the front window, her forehead pressed against the pane. He looked away lest she was crying and trudged up the porch steps to the side entrance.

He found Elisabeth not in the kitchen but sitting in the front room, one hand covering her face. He went to her and, leaning over, kissed her cheek. “Evan’s on his way.” He assumed Daed had returned to the Dawdi Haus.

Elisabeth looked up at him, her face marked with tears.

“How’s Ellie?” he asked. “Saw her at the window.” He knelt beside her chair.

“She ran upstairs just now.” Elisabeth leaned her head against his for the longest time. “Gut thing I’m caught up on my chores,” she said. “I have not a speck of energy left.”

“What can I get for you? Anything from the kitchen? Warm tea, maybe?”

She wiped tears away. “I’ll just sit here a while.”

“Well, if you’re sure . . .”

Nodding, she smiled weakly. “Why not let the others do the harvesting today, Lyle? They’ll understand.”

“It’ll do me gut to do my share.” Slowly, he rose and left the room, then made his way through the length of the house, pausing to look at Evan’s spot at the kitchen table.

Three days had passed with no word from Evan. Lyle hadn’t really expected any, but as each day ticked by, the silence began to weigh on him. How was Evan holding up? What was he experiencing?

Curious, Lyle had visited the library a few days ago to read about what took place during army basic training. Getting into physical shape was one priority, and Evan was certainly already that. But the tactical and survival skills, the marching and rappelling, the military customs, and the shooting—it would all be foreign to his son. Really, Lyle would rather not ponder any of it for long.

He hadn’t checked the book out to bring home lest Elisabeth fret when she saw it. Sometimes what a person didn’t know was easier, he’d decided. Especially when, in the case of his wife, certain concerns tended to play over and over in the deep of night, causing sleeplessness—something she’d been struggling with for too long. So Lyle had read as much as he could at the library—a stop while in town to pick up more bushel baskets for this harvest season and next year’s.

No one need know how heavyhearted he felt, most of all his precious wife.

Ellie was thankful her time was taken up with the autumn apple harvest, including helping to wash apples and jug cider with Mamm and Rudy and sometimes Dat, too. They wanted to have plenty of gallons in the cold cellar for their store customers.

But Evan’s leaving remained heavy on her mind, and when she found a letter in the mailbox from him addressed to Dat and Mamm, she ran up the long driveway and into the house.

A big smile spread across Mamm’s rosy cheeks when Ellie handed it to her, and she quickly opened the envelope, standing right there at the sink to read the few lines he’d written.

“Evan says he arrived and is just fine,” Mamm finally told her. “Says he’ll write more later . . . and he thanks you for your thoughtful send-off note.”

At this news, Ellie was eager to write to Evan, grateful to now have his return address. Truth be known, she was still pondering the strangeness of his final words to her, when he suddenly wondered how he’d fit in with the other men.

Ellie hadn’t told anyone about her and Evan’s private good-bye, although there had been an opportunity to share it with Cousin Ruthann. She’d dropped by the evening of Evan’s departure, bringing an angel food cake with strawberry preserves for the topping. Ellie had also talked briefly with Sol earlier that evening, after he’d brought in the spring wagon filled with ladders and empty crates. Sol had asked how she was doing, but he never mentioned Evan’s parting.

That was implied, she thought as she looked back to their conversation now.

She had managed to keep how she’d felt that morning to herself, shielding others from knowing it seemed nearly like a betrayal to her for Evan to have abandoned the teaching of his childhood. Leaving Amish life behind . . .

Ellie mailed a letter to Evan the following Monday. She wondered when she might hear from him. How busy was he at basic training?

Only recently had Jonah told her that when Dat paid Evan for his work just before he left, he had included a generous amount extra. Another kind deed from Dat in spite of the circumstances, she thought, glad for her father’s kind heart.