26

Ellie appreciated the cloud cover shielding her and the other workers from the sun that afternoon. She missed seeing Sol out there among the trees, but it was essential for him to rest in order to recover.

Earlier, after the noon meal and on the way back to the Dawdi Haus, Sol had asked her to help him by writing a letter to Leah on his behalf. He’d held up his injured hand and added, “I’ll tell ya what to write.”

Ellie had agreed but didn’t know when he wanted to dictate the letter. The more she thought about it, the more she looked forward to helping with that, but she wondered why he hadn’t asked Dawdi instead.

Jonah said something to her, and she realized she’d been daydreaming as she tamped down the freshly fertilized soil around a new tree. “Sorry?”

“When did any of ya last hear from Evan?” Jonah repeated.

“Mamm and Dat got a short letter a few days ago, and I’m waiting for a reply—maybe sometime this week.” She wondered why Jonah was asking and hoped he wanted to write to Evan, too—at last. It was, and had been, obvious that her brothers weren’t happy with Evan. Mostly, though, like her parents, they were worried he might not survive combat. Terrible stories about the growing casualties were plastered on the front page of the newspaper nearly every day.

More and more, she was noticing how various people in the church district seemed to look askance at her and her family, likely because of Evan’s decision. And she’d learned Dat and Mamm had stayed so long visiting Onkel Amos and Aendi Emma on Sunday because Amos had a bone to pick with Dat. He’d wanted to know why Evan had been permitted to go his own way even before he turned sixteen. Ellie was surprised that a close relative would talk like that to her father, who had certainly tried to steer Evan away from the world at large. Dat didn’t know Evan was sneakin’ off to see Jack Herr back then.

“Seems like Evan’s thrown away everything,” Jonah was saying as he poured the liquid fertilizer. “It’s like he doesn’t care one iota about his upbringing.”

“It might look like that, but I’m clingin’ to the hope that God will be merciful and bring him safely home to us.” Ellie tugged on her bandanna, making sure her middle part was protected from the sun now that the clouds had moved away and the sun was beating down hard. “I’m sure you, Rudy, and Lydia are prayin’ that way, too.”

At supper, Ellie felt self-conscious with Sol at the table again. It was so different from when they were alone talking, but she tried to be more engaging with the family this time. When she passed the platter of porcupine meatballs, she commented to Mamm how nice and plump they were. And when the cornbread came around, she asked Dawdi if he’d like honey on his. Things like that, so she didn’t just sit awkwardly, like a bump on a log.

But as was the case at dinner earlier, Sol didn’t talk directly to her. Was he just shy around her family, maybe? Yet why would that be, considering he knew them all so well and worked closely with Dat and her brothers?

His muffled hearing might be the reason, she suddenly realized.

Dawdi Hezekiah spoke up just then to ask about the peanut butter pie on the counter. “Did ya use my wife’s recipe?” His expression appeared hopeful.

“Jah, she let me copy it right off her tattered recipe card years ago.”

“Oh goodness, that cream cheese and whipped cream, and a graham cracker crust . . .” Dawdi said in a sing-songy way.

Dat grinned. “That pie ain’t for the faint of heart.”

“I s’pose we really should finish our main meal first,” Mamm said, laughing a little.

Dawdi nodded and winked at Ellie.

On his way to the side door after supper, Sol asked Ellie if tonight was a good time for him to dictate Leah’s letter to her.

Ellie agreed and mentioned that she owed his sister a letter, too. “But she should hear ’bout the attack from you first, jah?”

“Sorry, I didn’t quite hear the last part.” He leaned toward her a little.

She repeated herself a bit louder.

Sol nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

“I’ll be over after dishes are done,” she said, still concerned he wasn’t himself.

When Ellie arrived, Dawdi Hezekiah was sitting on his porch in one of his two willow rockers, wearing his dark blue sweater over his shirt and suspenders. “I found some lined writing paper for ya,” he said when he saw her. “And a nice pen.”

“We’re all set, then,” she replied as she reached for the screen door.

“Sol’s real discouraged ’bout his difficulty hearing,” he said. “Keep that in mind.”

“I will.”

He rose from the rocker, buttoned his sweater, and headed down the porch steps. “Well, I’ll be out walkin’ in the orchard if anyone needs me.”

“You don’t have to leave on my account,” Ellie told him. “It’ll get chilly soon.”

“I’m wearin’ my sweater.” He chuckled. “How long’s this letter gonna be?”

“That’s up to Sol.”

Dawdi started across the lawn. “I lit the big lantern in the kitchen,” he called behind him.

“Denki,” she said, then slipped inside to find Sol already at the table.

“I appreciate this, Ellie,” he said as she sat across from him in the lantern light.

Sol scooted the paper across to her. “My brain’s still a little hazy sometimes.” He sighed and glanced at the ceiling. “I tried to read the Bible last night, and the words jumped around on the page. And this afternoon I tried to write with my left hand, but it was impossible to read.” He grimaced.

“I’m glad to help,” she said, realizing he might also have asked her to write the letter since she and Leah were close friends. “How do ya want to start?”

“Let’s make it clear from the outset that you’re writing for me because my hand’s been injured, but not tell her how I injured it just yet.”

Ellie wrote as quickly as she could, taking down precisely what he dictated—who was writing and why, his greeting, and then asking Leah how she was doing and if she was still seeing Reuben Miller.

“If so, have ya met any of his family yet, other than his preacher father?” Sol added. “And are ya getting serious with Reuben, or is it too soon to know?”

Ellie paused in her writing. “I was goin’ to ask her that, too,” she said softly.

He looked at her with confusion. “Sorry?”

Ellie repeated herself more loudly this time.

“Leah will know we both care ’bout her,” Sol said. “Well, she already knows.”

For the next few minutes, they forgot the letter and fell into their usual easy conversation, talking about their mutual concern that Leah hadn’t known Reuben long, not to mention that he lived clear out there in Chambersburg, and Leah’s family and all her relatives were here.

“’Tween you and me,” Sol said, “I hope this is just a passing fancy.”

“Leah’s not given to crushes, though.”

Sol frowned and cupped his left ear.

“I said, Leah’s not given to crushes.”

“Ah, true.”

Ellie moved her chair closer to the table, thinking that might help Sol hear her better. “You and Leah are open with each other, so surely she’ll tell ya how she feels ’bout Reuben.”

He nodded, looking more thoughtful. “Now, the hard part. How should I tell her about what happened to me?”

Ellie sat with the pen poised.

Sol breathed deeply. “I don’t want to frighten her with too many details.”

“To be honest, she’ll be worried with even the gist of it. I’m sure of it.”

“I prob’ly shouldn’t go into many details, then. I mean, by the time the letter arrives, I’ll be on the mend . . . I pray.” He smiled weakly. “It may take a while.”

Ellie looked at him. “It’s only been a day, Sol.”

“Well, should I even tell her ’bout the attack, or wait?”

“Wouldn’t you wanna know if she got hurt?” Ellie glanced down at the letter in progress. “Remember, I’ve already written that your hand’s hurt enough that you couldn’t write.”

“Puh! I forgot that. See what I mean? I’m still fuzzy in the head.” Sol frowned. “Okay, so what would you tell Evan if it was you?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t tell him anything right now, considering he’s scared to death over there.”

Sol’s head tilted as he looked over at her. “I thought he was itchin’ to go.”

Now she wasn’t sure if Evan had told her about his concern in confidence, and she suddenly felt at a loss to remember exactly what he’d said. “I s’pose anyone would be nervous goin’ into battle, but more so because Evan’s never known a life with violence.” She paused. “Ach, I’ve gone down a rabbit trail, I think. We were talking ’bout what to share with Leah.”

Sol laughed softly. “That makes two of us.”

Eventually, they came up with something that wouldn’t cause Leah too much alarm, sketching out the basics of the attack but not all the aspects of his recovery. And for the next half hour or so, they worked together on the letter, stopping along the way to talk about this and that.

“Ya know, I feel pretty unsure of myself right now,” Sol said thoughtfully, his gaze on the letter in front of them.

“What do ya mean?”

“Well, I can’t help wonderin’ how a young woman would respond to my deafness, if it lingers. And then there’s all these injuries.” He looked down at his wrapped right hand. “I’m all battered up.”

His dejection was evident. “What’s happened surely wouldn’t lessen a young woman’s regard for ya, Sol. Not if she cares for you.”

He brightened as he looked at her, and Ellie realized that even if another girl didn’t feel that way toward him, she certainly did. Her heart fluttered at the thought.

After they finished the letter, Dawdi came indoors, shuffled across the sitting room, and sat down in his chair. Before she noticed the time, Sol glanced up at the small clock above the sink and said he’d kept her much too long.

“Goodness, family Bible reading and prayer will be startin’ soon,” she said, looking over at Dawdi and seeing his slack jaw. “Looks like he’ll be content right there for a while. I won’t disturb him.”

“He might be disappointed to miss out when he wakes up after his forty winks,” Sol said as Ellie folded the letter.

The way Sol said it, Ellie almost wondered if he was wishing he might join her and her parents. “Well, I should go,” she said, getting up, yet feeling strangely reluctant to leave.

“Denki again.” He smiled. “I’ll see ya, Ellie.”

“At breakfast tomorrow.”

“Lord willin’.” He leaned back in the chair. “Gut Nacht.”

“Take care, Sol.” She opened the inside door and then the screen door, wondering why she hadn’t noticed how chilly it had become in the house.

The moon was scarcely visible, a waxing crescent so thin in the sky she stopped to stare at it. A barn cat meowed loudly across the lane from where she stood, and a crow caw-cawed overhead. She turned to look in the direction of the orchard, where she and Dawdi loved to walk in the late afternoon, but all she could see in her mind’s eye was Sol picking fruit and occasionally stopping to talk to her. All the while, I thought we were just friends.

Sighing now, she felt ferhoodled. Thinking back to letter writing with Sol, she tried to understand what had happened between them. In just the space of . . . what? One evening? She’d revealed something of her interest when she’d implied that his injuries hadn’t dimmed her regard for him. And he seemed glad to hear that.

Sitting on the porch steps, Ellie wondered about Sol’s eagerness to have her write Leah’s letter on his behalf. But if she continued to ponder it, her head would start to hurt like Sol’s.

She rose to go inside, stopping at the kitchen sink for a drink of water, not sure what to do with these strange new feelings emerging for Sol. Was it simply his helpless state? Maybe I just feel sorry for him.

Making her way into the front room, Ellie sat in the chair across from Dat and Mamm on the settee while Dat read from his Bible. And once they had said their silent prayers and risen from kneeling, she told them she wanted to head for bed early.

Mamm gave her a little kiss on the cheek, and Dat said, “Sleep tight, Ellie.”

“You too, Dat.” She was suddenly too tired to even think of writing a letter to Leah now. Sol had suggested his letter should arrive first anyway, she remembered as she made her way up the stairs to her room. Once there, she looked at her Sunday dresses hanging on the wooden pegs across from the dresser and wondered which color she should wear to the next Preaching.

Catching herself, she turned to pick up the hand mirror on her dresser. “Am I falling for my cousin’s former beau?”