39

On Easter Monday—for Leah’s sake while Reuben was off fishing with Aaron and Sol—Ellie and Leah leisurely rode around the neighborhood in the two-wheeled cart hitched up to Nelly. Amish businesses were closed for the holiday, so more buggies were on the road than usual.

Ellie had chicken salad with potato rolls and raspberry Jell-O planned for the noon meal following their little jaunt. She was still growing accustomed to Dat, Mamm, and Dawdi having their meals at her parents’ new house, though sometimes Sol invited them all to supper for old times’ sake. It was, of course, a big adjustment for everyone, but Ellie enjoyed having the big farmhouse to themselves.

“This is nice of you,” Leah said as they rode past a number of her relatives’ farms for the fun of it.

“Can’t let ya forget your old stompin’ grounds.” Ellie smiled, holding the reins.

“Oh, trust me, I haven’t. My kinfolk’ll always be close to my heart.”

Ellie nodded.

“By the way, Reuben told me something interesting this morning. One of my uncles has invited him to work here in his woodworking shop once we’re married.”

“Such gut news! Do ya think Reuben will accept?”

“This just came up, but he seems interested.”

“Well, I’ve been prayin’ to get ya home somehow.”

“Me too.” Leah laughed softly. “A lot, in fact.”

Ellie wanted to hug her, but she didn’t dare let go of the reins. Instead, as close as they were sitting, she leaned against Leah. “Honestly, this could be our answer.”

“We’d get to raise our future children together like we always wished—if Reuben accepts the job.”

“Jah, and things could go back to what used to be.” Ellie paused. “I mean, for our friendship.”

Leah agreed, and Ellie refused to think of Evan then, focusing instead on the soothing sounds of Nelly’s trotting as they rode past the bishop’s farm. The fact that Reuben might accept work here meant he and Leah could return to Bird-in-Hand come November—or even earlier if they chose to have the wedding here.

Just knowing that’s a possibility makes life a little more tolerable.

In the midst of a heavy drizzle after supper the next evening, Ellie took the family buggy to visit Priscilla and the children while Sol and Dat went over the accounting ledger. Then on her way home, she stopped in to see Ruthann.

Her cousin greeted her at the back door. “What’re ya doin’ out tonight? You ain’t a single woman anymore, ya know.” She chortled.

“Sol’s tied up with Dat, workin’, so I thought I’d come see what you’re up to.”

Ruthann led Ellie up to her room, then showed her two new dresses she’d recently made for herself. “I’ll be sewin’ my wedding dress this fall, too,” she said with a smile.

“You’re engaged?”

“Menno asked me right before Easter. He wanted to get things in order before he did—a place for us to live and full-time work for him.”

Ellie hugged her. “You must be so thrilled, cousin.”

“I truly am.” Ruthann’s eyes glimmered with emotion.

“Things are comin’ together nicely for you and Menno.”

“God’s been so gut to us.” Ruthann grinned. “I’ve been thinkin’ of having a Sisters Day gathering next month. What do ya think?”

“It’d give us somethin’ to look forward to.”

Ruthann touched Ellie’s arm. “Get our minds off Evan . . . if that’s even possible.”

“Well, not as long as we don’t know where he is, but I know what ya mean.”

“Everyone I know is prayin’.” Ruthann sighed as the lantern in her room flickered.

It was cozy and so pleasant being there, and Ellie was heartened by her cousin’s words. “We appreciate the prayers.”

Ruthann nodded. “Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been taught that God knows all things and walks with us through our trials as well as our victories.” She reached for her Bible and opened it. “This verse is from Isaiah, chapter forty, verse twenty-nine. I bookmarked it so I can read it every time I think of poor Cousin Evan.”

Ellie was deeply touched by this and listened closely.

“‘He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.’”

Agreeing wholeheartedly, Ellie replied, “Sol says we must cast our burdens upon the One whose shoulders are big enough to carry them.”

“He’s right.” Ruthann reached for Ellie’s hand. “Our faith is in our heavenly Father alone.”

On Friday afternoon, Lyle was mowing in the orchard with Sol when he heard rapid thumps on the grassy strip behind him. He turned to see Ellie running his way.

“Dat!” she called rather loudly.

He hurriedly met her, and she worked to catch her breath as she handed him an official-looking envelope. His heart pounded when he saw the return address.

Sol came over quickly to stand next to him. “Might be best to go to the house and sit while ya read it,” Sol suggested.

“Nee,” Lyle replied. “If it’s bad news, the Lord’ll give me strength.”

Ellie had her hand over her mouth as Sol slipped to her side.

———

Ellie held her breath as her father opened the envelope and read. She and Sol stayed close to him as his hands began to tremble. Then he bowed his head, holding the letter to his chest, his shoulders rapidly rising and falling.

Sol stepped closer to Ellie as tears clouded her vision.

Dat started to weep, then sob, sounding as though he was racked with pain. Or was it . . . laughter?

Sol steadied him, and Dat turned and embraced him.

“Evan’s been found . . . wounded but alive . . . and he’s comin’ home soon,” Dat said between gasps. “He was in a landmine explosion . . . and because his dog tags were blown off and he couldn’t remember who he was, they couldn’t ID him. Must’ve been a lot of confusion.”

Ellie wrapped her arms around both Dat and Sol, something she’d never done before. But this news was cause for the greatest gratitude.

“I must go an’ tell your Mamm.” Dat’s face was streaked with tears.

“And Dawdi,” Ellie added, her own joyful tears flowing.

“The Lord God be praised.” Dat stopped to kneel right there in the orchard, his face raised toward the sky. “His merciful name be praised!”

Ellie and Sol stood on either side of Dat, giving thanks with all their hearts as well. And then and there, Ellie was sure that God was indeed present everywhere, both in the wintertime orchard when all seemed dormant and fragile and in the dire conditions of Vietnam’s jungles.