35

Three days after the wedding, Ellie rode with Sol and Dat to look at available land in two different locations. During the short trip to East Lampeter to survey twenty acres described in a newspaper ad, Dat revealed that a number of guests had privately approached him during the wedding feast and slipped him money.

“Mighty surprising,” he said, mentioning that it was to be used toward preparing the burned acre for future replanting. “Some were quite sizeable gifts,” Dat shared in hushed tones. “Many relatives and friends wanted to help.”

“That’s very kind,” Ellie said, “and a little surprising when some had turned their backs on us.”

Sol was nodding. “Maybe things are turnin’ round at last?”

“Well, some former customers are still holdouts,” Dat replied.

“By the way,” Ellie interjected, “I made a sign that says Cider by the cup or jug and put it out front. We can make more money than by just sellin’ by the jug. And we can sell cider by the cup at market, too.”

Sol chuckled. “My dear bride’s bound and determined to do her part.”

Ellie laughed. “Mamm and I also made apple butter all day yesterday to take to Central Market tomorrow.”

Dat gave an approving nod. “Well, I appreciate everything you’re doin’, Ellie.”

“She’s on a mission,” Sol added.

“I just want things to return to normal,” she replied.

They arrived at the property in East Lampeter, and immediately Dat pointed out that the lay of the land wasn’t advantageous for planting lines of trees from north to south. “They need to be laid out that way to increase the amount of sun they receive each day. It’s also too flat here—we need drainage for the trees.”

“Ach, you’re right,” Ellie murmured, eyeing the spread of land. “I see that.”

“Might also be too far away from our present orchard,” Sol mentioned.

They traveled back toward Bird-in-Hand, a half mile northeast of their own orchard. This second acreage was so appealing that Ellie asked Dat if they could pull over and stop so they could look it over more closely.

Dat let Sol take over the driving lines while he and Ellie got out. “It’s grazing land, so that’s gut,” Dat said as they strolled along the roadside. “How many acres did ya say?”

“Fifteen.”

“Looks promising. What’s the askin’ price?”

“It’s not listed in the ad.”

Dat pointed. “I see a farmhouse and a few large trees toward the back of the property. I’ll come back first thing tomorrow to talk to the owner.”

They walked a bit farther, then returned to the buggy and Sol. Ellie couldn’t help but notice the spring in her father’s step.

Lyle felt the mattress move when Elisabeth rose the next morning. She’d told him she’d be up by four because she and Ellie planned to ride with a Mennonite woman to the historic Central Market in downtown Lancaster. They wanted to set up before the doors opened at six o’clock.

Rolling over, Lyle rested a while longer, the acreage he and Ellie had walked along yesterday very much on his mind. He was fairly sure the price would be higher than he could afford, but for Ellie’s sake—and the family’s—he would dicker on the amount with the owner, George Stewart, a man he’d never met.

After a cup of hot black coffee, he made his way out to the stable to hitch up Captain to the spring wagon, then headed down the road.

He soon learned that George was spending the winter in Florida, but his daughter gave Lyle a phone number where he could be reached.

“Might I have your father’s mailing address instead?” Lyle asked the young English woman after she gave him the price for the land. “I only use the shanty phone for emergencies.”

“Sure,” she replied, apparently surprised. “But if it’s the price you’re concerned about,” she added, “it’s not negotiable.”

“I see.” Lyle thanked her and headed toward his waiting horse and wagon. Well, I guess that’s that.

Three different groups of relatives—aunts, uncles, and cousins—stopped by with wedding gifts that Preaching Sunday after the fellowship meal. Ellie and Sol visited with each one, thanking them for their kindness. Invariably, someone mentioned the new sign out front, and Ellie kindly asked if they’d be willing to spread the word about her selling cider by the cup. “Mamm and I have apple butter now, too,” she added.

“Have ya thought of sellin’ door-to-door?” one of Dat’s older cousins asked. “Maybe hot cider by the mug?” The man chortled.

Standing by Ellie’s side, Sol clarified that she was working extra hard to earn funds to restore the burned section of the orchard.

Ellie looked up at him, thankful he’d defended her, even though she felt sure the cousin was just joshing.

In the midst of a chilly yet sunny day nearly a week and a half later, Ellie’s father, husband, and brothers broke ground for the new Dawdi Haus near the one Dawdi Hezekiah lived in. Ellie and her mother donned their coats and went out to watch for the first little while, remarking how nice it would be for Mamm and Dat to move in sometime in early spring.

“The time’ll go quick,” Mamm said, glancing at her. “You and Sol should be comfortable for now, we hope.”

“Sol loves our room high in the eaves.” Ellie smiled, remembering how on their wedding night, he’d asked how cold it got in the winter up there. Then right away he shook his head, saying they would keep each other warm.

On the walk back to the main house, Ellie wished Dat would have at least written the owner of the land over northeast. If Mr. George Stewart wouldn’t budge on the price, then so be it. But they couldn’t know without trying.

Once Ellie had helped redd up the kitchen following supper on Thanksgiving evening, she went to see Dawdi, who was suffering from a flare-up of his rheumatism. “Weather related,” he’d said during the noon meal as Lydia, Jonah, Rudy, and their families gathered around Mamm’s long trestle table.

“You haven’t been tellin’ your family stories lately,” Ellie said presently, sitting on the settee near Dawdi’s chair. “I miss hearin’ them.”

“My tall tales?” He chuckled as he balanced a hot water bottle on his right knee.

“Oh, now. I wasn’t ever the one to say that.”

Dawdi smiled at her. “Married life seems to suit ya. You’re like a fancy light bulb, ya know . . . always a-glowin’.”

“Never happier,” she said, smiling.

“From the first day Sol came to work for us years ago, I knew he was somethin’ special. I daresay God gives us old folk a gut measure of wisdom.”

“Can’t argue that.” Ellie paused, thinking that now might be a good time to tell him the thing that was pressing on her heart. “Maybe you can reassure me ’bout somethin’, Dawdi.”

“I’ll give it a try, Ellie-girl.” He frowned, eyeing her. “What’s troublin’ ya?”

She considered how this could affect him—all of them, really. “It’s just that I haven’t heard from Evan in quite a while.” She sighed.

Dawdi shifted his weight. “Well, keep in mind there’s no tellin’ where he could be fighting.” He looked toward the window. “Or what conditions he might be in.”

Ellie hoped she hadn’t upset Dawdi, who looked so solemn now. “Mamm hasn’t said anything ’bout not hearin’ from Evan, either, so I’m not sure I want to bring it up to her. Surely she would’ve told Dat if she was worried, but that doesn’t mean he’d mention it to me.”

Dawdi sighed loudly. “My prayer continues to be that Evan’s life will be spared so he gets a second chance.”

A second chance to join church, he means. And if so, she hoped that, too.

They talked about other things, especially the relatives and friends who had visited bearing wedding gifts every weekend since the wedding. Even some from Somerset and out of state—Maryland and New York, mostly.

“Sounds like you’ll have plenty-a household items once you and Sol take over the main house,” Dawdi said.

“Combined with everything in my hope chest, we should be well set.”

“Is there a bigger item yous might need?”

“Let’s wait and see after all the gifts are brought, okay? You’ve already been very generous with your cash gift, Dawdi. Sol and I can’t thank ya enough.”

“That’s what we do for our young ones startin’ out,” he replied, nodding. “After all, we can’t take it with us when life is over.”

Ellie offered to help him to the main house for Bible reading and prayer.

Dawdi shook his head. “I’ll sit right here and pray. Need to go easy on this here leg.”

“Okay,” she said, heading for the door. “You’ll be careful walkin’ around, now, won’t ya?”

“Ain’t too bad off yet.”

“Hope ya feel better after the storm comes through.”

“Me too!” Dawdi chuckled. “Feels like it could snow a heap.”

She hoped not, because that could hamper the construction of Dat and Mamm’s new addition. But that was the risk involved with building this time of year.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow, Dawdi.”

A week later, Ellie was closing the family store for the day when the door opened and Cheryl Herr stepped inside.

“Hullo, Cheryl,” she said, surprised to see her there. “What can I get for ya?”

“I came to see you.” Cheryl leaned on the counter like she was suddenly fatigued. Then, touching her ponytail, she said, “I’m worried. Evan hasn’t written in weeks.” She looked toward the front window for a moment. “Have you heard from him lately?”

Ellie’s insides tumbled. She hasn’t heard anything, either?

Swallowing hard, Ellie tried to put on a brave face. “Nee, but maybe his unit has moved.”

Cheryl nodded. “I’ve wondered that, too.”

“I’ve read sometimes soldiers are sent to remote places where it’s not so easy to receive or send letters.”

Cheryl seemed to consider this. “In his last letter, Evan wrote that you were getting married. Has the wedding already happened?”

“Jah, November second.”

“He really wished he could have been here for your wedding. He’s talked of you, in fact, in every letter. And I know he worries that you and your family are anxious about his safety.”

“We pray for him every day,” Ellie replied. “I certainly don’t like going this long without hearing from him.”

Cheryl blinked several times, then looked down at the counter, clearly trying to keep her composure. It was obvious how concerned she was, and it made Ellie feel sorry for her even though she didn’t like the idea of an outsider having a close relationship with her brother.

“I apologize for barging in like this,” Cheryl said at last. “But I needed to talk to someone else who cares about Evan.”

Ellie understood and told her so.

“I just hope he’s not . . .” Cheryl stopped and cleared her throat.

Ellie saw the fear in her eyes. “We’ll have to look forward to his next letters and give him to God’s care,” she replied, saying this as much for her own peace of mind as for Cheryl’s.

Cheryl nodded but couldn’t seem to speak, her lower lip quivering. She turned to reach for the doorknob. “Thanks for taking time for me, Ellie.”

“It’s okay,” she said, taken aback. “Come anytime.”

In that moment, Ellie felt sure of only one thing. Evan had told the truth about Cheryl Herr—she was as nice as she was pretty.