37

In mid-January, Lyle sat working in the barn office after looking at another land option with Ellie earlier that morning. Sol had remained behind to prune apple trees with the rest of the crew, since all the burned trees had been removed last month. Today’s property had been a disappointment—too far away and too rocky for planting fruit trees.

Lyle recalled Ellie asking him weeks ago why he didn’t write George Stewart in Florida about the property they’d been so fond of. “What’s the use since it’s priced out of reach and he won’t budge?” he’d asked, though it did little to satisfy her.

Ellie had also filled him in on all she was doing to help Sol learn the key managerial duties for the orchard, including selecting the best varieties of saplings for the future replanting to be done late in the summer. She’d also set up meetings to introduce Sol to the local buyers, as well as to contacts at the Bird-in-Hand Farmers Market and Central Market in downtown Lancaster. Thankfully, handling the accounting ledger seemed to come easy for Sol, she’d said, seeming rightfully proud of her husband.

Together, they’re an ideal team, Lyle thought.

Lyle made his way across the yard to visit Daed later that afternoon. Once inside, he removed his gloves, hat, and coat, then sat down on the sofa. “Thought I’d see how you’re doin’,” he said, rubbing his hands together near the heater stove. The January air was even colder than it had been that morning.

“Well, ya know, every day there’s no more news ’bout Evan,” Daed said out of the blue, “is a day for hope. ’Least that’s how I see it.”

“Sometimes hope’s all we’ve got.” Anymore, Lyle felt like he was holding his breath. “You an’ I both know missing in action usually means the worst. I’m sure most of the family believes Evan’s been killed, left behind enemy lines somewhere. But like you, I prefer to believe he’s alive till we hear otherwise.”

Daed leaned forward, his long beard touching his knees. “It could be he’s even in hiding for safety from the enemy.”

Lyle took that in, still feeling heavyhearted. “No matter what, I can always count on your listenin’ ear, Daed.”

His father’s eyes searched his. “There’ll come a day when you and I can’t discuss things any longer, son.” He glanced at the ceiling. “I’ll be gone to Gloryland.”

Nodding slowly, Lyle leaned back and sighed, thankful for each and every day he and his father had together. A wondrous gift, indeed.

Toward the end of January, Ellie took matters into her own hands. She went to talk to George Stewart’s daughter, since she was the one who’d told Dat the price of the land wasn’t negotiable. She asked the young woman politely if the land was still available and was told it was. Then, bravely, she asked for her father’s mailing address in Florida. That night, unbeknown to Dat, she wrote a letter to the man. Even if there was little chance of a reply, she felt she should do this. What do I have to lose?

Dear Mr. Stewart,

You don’t know me, but I spoke with your daughter today about the acreage up for sale. My father, Lyle Hostetler, is an orchardist, and he’s interested in your land. But our family’s had quite a year. . . .

Flurries were falling when Ellie’s sister-in-law Priscilla arrived after breakfast the next morning, bringing some of her own recipes for Ellie’s recipe box. While Ellie wouldn’t think of saying it, she wondered what it would be like to be the only cook in Mamm’s current kitchen. Come spring, Sol and I will be in charge of this big farmhouse. How will it be, just the two of us?

With Dat helping oversee the construction of the new addition, Ellie had been quite occupied with the business side of the orchard, so she was thankful when Priscilla and Mamm got busy making several loaves of bread and some pies. Ellie suspected Priscilla might be expecting their fifth child, though she hadn’t voiced it. It wasn’t their way to talk about a pregnancy . . . mentioned only very privately to adult sisters or mother.

And thinking about this, she wondered how her brother Rudy—eight years old at the time—had reacted to the surprise of twin babies when she and Evan were born. They were the only set of twins on both sides of the family.

Who could’ve known how very different Evan and I would become?

On the first day of February, Ellie smiled to see a letter from Leah in the mailbox. Leaning into the cold wind, she hurried up the long lane with Shadow at her side—Sol’s father’s wedding gift to him. Shadow scurried out to the barn, where it was warmer, as Ellie made her way inside the house. She stomped her boots on the rug in the kitchen hallway, then turned into the utility room and hung up her coat and scarf before blowing her warm breath on her icy hands. Should’ve worn my mittens.

Entering the kitchen, where Mamm was browning sausage for tonight’s chili soup, Ellie breathed in the scent of savory seasonings—onion, garlic, and chili powder. A pan of golden cornbread cooled on the counter.

She held up the envelope. “Do I have time to read Leah’s letter, or do ya need more help with supper?”

“Everything’s in the chili pot just waitin’ for the sausage. So go ahead, Ellie.”

She went into the front room and curled up on one of the comfortable reading chairs in the corner. Because of the heavy gray clouds, she held the letter up toward the window, not bothering to light a lantern.

Dear Ellie,

I’ve been thinking of you and your family and praying for some word about Evan. It’s good that Sol’s so caring, especially during this troubling time for you. I miss both of you so much!

Did I tell you that Carolyn has met someone? Roger is a young widower her age who works at the post office. She’s been buying more stamps than ever before! I can only guess what will come of their growing friendship, but if it’s worth her talking about him, she must be interested. That’s all I know, but I’ll keep you posted.

Ellie was suddenly excited. If Carolyn gets married again, then Leah can return home. What good news!

Now, as you know, Reuben’s been courting me, and we’re really fond of each other. In fact, he’s proposed marriage, and we’re looking to wed in November. Honestly, I’ve never been this happy, Ellie. You’re the first I’ve written about it, and as soon as I finish this letter, I’ll write to my parents and to Sol, then mail all three letters at once. Hopefully, they’ll all receive them on the same day.

Reuben is eager to meet you and Sol and the rest of my family. We’re talking of coming there for Easter, April second, when Carolyn’s parents visit again. Oh, Ellie, I can hardly wait for you to get to know him. I think you’ll definitely approve.

Ellie folded the letter, so delighted for dear Leah. She’s found love, just like I have, she thought. Life is certainly full of surprises!

The next afternoon, while Ellie was in the office with Sol going over the schedule for spray and fertilizer applications, Dat poked his head in and waved a letter at Sol. “Hand delivery for Solomon Bontrager,” he said, grinning.

Ellie was fairly sure it was from Leah. She’d had a hard time remaining tight-lipped about Leah’s engagement but had reasoned that Sol should learn about it directly from his sister.

Sol thanked Dat, who headed back toward the construction site for the new addition.

Ellie kept busy working on her own while Sol read the letter.

At last, he said, “Sounds like Leah’s getting married.”

“I know.” Ellie smiled. “I received a letter from her yesterday, but I didn’t say anything ’cause I knew she’d written to your parents and to you as well.”

“So ya kept a secret from me?” Sol said, winking at her.

“It wouldn’t have been right to tell ya beforehand.”

“I’m just kiddin’.”

“So how will we get down to Chambersburg to visit her?”

“The buses run on both sides of the road, ya know.”

She nodded. “I’ve never ridden on one alone.”

“We’d go together, so you’d be fine, love.”

“Still, Leah won’t be within walking distance or a buggy ride away.” She sighed and shook her head. “Guess I took for granted that it’d be that way.”

Sol looked thoughtful. “It won’t be easy for my parents, either.”

She didn’t want to feel blue, but she did, and then she recalled Cheryl’s truly painful words about her brother Jack.

“What’re ya thinkin’?” Sol asked, reaching for her hand.

“Oh, somethin’ Evan’s girlfriend told me that day I visited her a couple of months ago.” Then she finally shared what Cheryl said, that Jack had first been declared MIA.

“I’m aware that sometimes MIA soldiers don’t return home,” he said gently. “There’s a lot we don’t know, but remember, these are the times we must have faith in our Sovereign Lord. Do we believe He’s with us, even when we don’t perceive His presence?” Sol asked, sounding so like Dawdi.

Off and on the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Ellie thought about Sol’s wise remark. And when she was snug next to him that night, she thanked God for such a loving and empathetic husband.

Ellie had started to wonder if George Stewart would ever bother to reply when, two weeks later, Sol came into the barn office with an envelope addressed to her.

“Postmarked Florida,” he said with a smile. “Might be from that snowbird landowner ya wrote to.”

Surprised, Ellie tore open the envelope and began to read as Sol leaned over her shoulder.

“Goodness,” she said. “He wants to meet with us when he returns home in mid-April.” She handed the letter to Sol. “See for yourself.”

Sol scanned the letter. “That’s two months away. What’s he waitin’ for?”

“Maybe for someone to accept the price he wants ’tween now and then.”

Sol returned the letter. “Guess ya’d better tell your Dat what ya did.”

Ellie agreed. “I never really thought anything would come of my letter.” She stood and looked out the window. “Have ya seen Dat around lately?”

“He was out in the orchard earlier with Titus and me.”

Ellie stared at the letter. “I don’t want to get my hopes up,” she murmured. O Lord, I trust Thee to open the door if it’s Thy will.