The Orchard, page 17
“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?”
27
A light but steady rain was falling the next evening. Ellie stood at the side door and stared out its screen. She’d sensed Sol’s discouragement at both breakfast and the noon meal, and at supper he told her parents and Dawdi that he still couldn’t hold a pen to write his name. He’d also admitted he wanted to return home to rest in his own bed, saying that his insomnia, though a side effect of a concussion, might lessen at home. And his parents will be arriving home tonight, which will surely be a comfort, Ellie thought.
So Dawdi Hezekiah had taken him home after supper and was already back enjoying seconds of Mamm’s dessert—carrot cake with whipped cream.
Ellie thought it was probably a good idea for Sol to get settled in at home, even though she felt sad that he was so down about his condition.
Back in the kitchen, Ellie saw Mamm at one end of the table with her pen and stationery, which reminded her of last evening with Sol. Such thoughts had kept coming all day, and try as she might, she couldn’t get them out of her mind.
“You all right?” Mamm asked, looking at her.
“I guess so.”
Mamm continued to study her. “Thinking ’bout Sol?”
Sighing, Ellie pulled out the wood bench and sat down, leaning her elbows on the table much as she had last night while talking so comfortably with Sol. “Honestly—and I don’t know when it happened—but I think I might like Sol as more than a friend.”
Mamm pursed her lips. “He is rather wunnerbaar.”
Ellie was surprised at how quickly her mother spoke. “You think so?”
“Dawdi seems to, also. And we all know Dawdi’s a gut barometer of many things.”
Ellie smiled. “I’ll say.” She sighed. “Guess I’ll just have to sort out my feelings,” she said before Mamm could ask more.
She rose and headed into the front room with the family Bible, turning to the next chapter Dat would be reading and happy to wait for the rest of her family to arrive for their nightly routine.
At market the next day, Ellie happened to see Ruthann and Menno ordering peanut brittle together. It was obvious how very attentive Menno was, which was a good sign. The two of them hadn’t even seemed to notice her, which was fine—and besides, she was carrying two tall lemonades back to their market stand, where Mamm was selling an excess of asparagus.
I couldn’t be happier for Menno and Ruthann, she thought as she set the drinks on the table.
That Saturday, the first of May, dawned sunny, and Ellie continued to work extra hours in the orchard, checking trees to see if their pest management practices were working and reducing the need for pesticides.
More tired than usual at the end of the day, she took time to finally write to Leah nevertheless. She mentioned helping Dawdi look after Sol and how thankful she was to have been out walking in the orchard right when Sol needed assistance. She also shared that Ruthann was seeing Menno. They’re a good match, she wrote.
She also made time to write to Evan earlier that week, afraid he’d wonder if she’d forgotten him, considering all the time she was putting in out in the orchard. But then he hadn’t written in some weeks, either.
Ellie told him she had started to see some of the first benefits from the time she’d put in recruiting local restaurants and bakeries, many of which were signed up for the upcoming peach and apple season. Our fruit will be everywhere, she joked. Dat had taken notice, as well, which pleased Ellie no end.
The Lord’s Day brought an early rain before dawn, “a gut soaker makin’ plenty-a mud” as Lyle described it to his father as they sat at the table waiting for Elisabeth’s hearty homemade granola and the fresh goat’s milk purchased yesterday from Rudy’s farm.
After they’d finished eating and the meal’s second prayer, Lyle asked Ellie to go with him to check on Sol. They found him sitting on the wide back porch and petting Shadow, the Bontragers’ beautiful gray and white German shepherd, whose front paws leaned on Sol’s knees. Sol looked up when he heard them coming, and his face lit up like a full moon.
“Hullo there,” Lyle said as he stepped onto the porch.
“Nice to see ya,” Sol said, looking now at Ellie. “Have yourselves a seat.”
Lyle sat next to him near several clay pots of aloe plants, and Ellie sat beside Lyle, who realized she was on the wrong side for Sol to hear her well. “We wondered how you’ve been doin’,” he said louder than he normally spoke. “I know recovery isn’t always a straight line.”
“Denki,” Sol replied. It looked like his thick blond hair had been recently trimmed, and he was without his straw hat. His face had a healthier glow, not nearly as pale.
The screen door opened and out came Sol’s mother, Nan, her white work apron tied around her long black one. “Willkumm,” she said, smiling as she came over to lean against the white porch post. “Benjamin’s out in the barn.”
“How was your trip?” Lyle asked.
“Oh fine, but it’s always gut to be home again.” Nan looked kindly at Ellie. “Denki ever so much for takin’ care of our son. My goodness, yous were a godsend. He told us all ’bout it.”
Sol smiled. “Today’s one week since it happened,” he said with a glance at Lyle. “I’m hopin’ to get back to work in the orchard again soon.”
“Only when ya know you’re ready,” Lyle said, and Ellie nodded.
Sol tilted his head, and Lyle could tell he hadn’t quite followed him. So he repeated his comment more loudly.
“Oh, I’m doin’ better. I still have insomnia, but the folk medicine book says to take one to two teaspoons of honey before bedtime, so I’ve been doin’ that. To tell ya the truth, though, so far it hasn’t helped all that much.”
Nan looked at her son with concern. “His poor noggin took a poundin’,” she said, pushing her blue bandanna back a little. “But he’s drinking plenty of liquids and resting whenever he needs to. We don’t want to make things worse by havin’ him do much before his head’s fully healed.”
“Des gut,” Lyle said, glad Nan was home, looking after Sol while Benjamin tended to the steers.
“Quite a few of die Youngie have dropped by to encourage Sol,” Nan told them, smiling thoughtfully. “The bishop and all the ministers have, too, and of course our local kinfolk.”
Sol seemed lost to the thread of the conversation, obviously still struggling to hear.
They talked a bit longer, and then Lyle and Ellie excused themselves to head home.
“Kumme anytime,” Nan said warmly. “Sol enjoys seein’ his favorite neighbors.”
“Say hullo to Benjamin when he comes in from the barn,” Lyle told her.
“I’ll do that.” Nan smiled broadly, as she often did. “Greet Elisabeth for me.”
“I certainly will,” Lyle replied, then said good-bye to Sol, waving along with it so he’d understand more readily.
“Denki for comin’,” Sol said, suddenly sounding glum.
“Bye, Sol,” said Ellie, but he didn’t respond.
As they headed out to the waiting horse and buggy, Lyle couldn’t help but feel sorry for Sol—and for Ellie, who hadn’t had much chance to visit with him. At least she’d seen for herself that Sol was slightly better, though quite hard of hearing in his left ear.
She definitely cheered him up, Lyle thought, wondering if his daughter had noticed Sol’s reaction to seeing her.
It was hard to think of much else but Sol as Ellie rode home with Dat. Thoughts of him hadn’t quieted down much this whole past week, and now they were right back in the forefront of her mind. She’d have to be blind to have missed his big smile when she and Dat walked up the porch steps.
Does he light up like that for everyone?
Mamm was preparing a skillet dinner for the noon meal when Ellie walked into the kitchen for a cold drink of water. Small piles of chopped sausage, onions, and green peppers sat on the large cutting board, waiting for macaroni to boil. “I should’ve stayed home to help,” Ellie said, feeling quite ferhoodled.
“Well, your father wanted ya along.”
Ellie was curious why.
“So how’s Sol?”
“Not back to normal yet. He said he’s still not sleepin’ much.”
“With the injuries he suffered, that can go on for weeks, even years,” Mamm said, lifting the lid on the big pot of macaroni. The steam rose instantly. She stepped back a moment, then began to stir.
“I wish something could be done for Sol—his deaf ear, ’specially,” Ellie said. “He seemed to have an extra hard time hearing us today. Guess we’ll need to sit on his right side when we visit next.”
“Gut thinkin’.”
“Seems like a real trial for him.”
Ellie asked if there was anything she could do in the kitchen, but Mamm shook her head. So Ellie slipped outdoors, where she found Dat sitting on the back porch. Sitting in the rocker next to him, Ellie asked, “Do ya think Sol will fully recover, Dat?”
“We both know that’s in God’s hands.”
“What’re the chances he might not?”
Her father sighed. “I know of farmers who were kicked in the head by a horse or mule and died instantly, and I know of others who were knocked unconscious and suffered a much worse concussion than even Sol’s and fully recovered. The thing is, it takes time and rest to heal a head injury.”
“And his hearing?”
“That too.”
“What ’bout his eyes blurring when he tries to read?”
“Could take a few weeks yet,” Dat said, folding his arms across his chest. “But God’s will is what we pray for in all situations.”
“Sol seems to want to get back to work,” she said, realizing she sounded impatient. And I want an excuse to spend time with him.
