Ella: An Amish Retelling 0f Cinderella (An Amish Fairytale Book 2) Page 10

  Clearing his throat, Hannes straightened and shifted his eyes from Ella to Linda. “That’s what you said last week.”

  Now Ella was truly confused. Last week? Hannes had met with her stepmother the previous week? Who was this man?

  To her further humiliation, Linda looked at her, and something dark shifted over her eyes. “Don’t just stand there lollygagging again, Ella!” she snapped. “Get back to work!”

  Ella felt the heat rise to her cheeks, mortified that her stepmother would talk to her in such a sharp manner in front of the handsome stranger. What would he think of her? Linda had made it sound like Ella was lazy, someone who spent her time aimlessly, perhaps following idle pursuits. Despite such ideas being the furthest thing from the truth, Ella realized that she didn’t want Hannes to think she was negligent when working.

  Immediately, Ella longed for her father and wondered why God had taken him so soon. When he had been alive, Linda had treated her better. Not well—just better. But all of that had changed when her father had passed away and the ownership of the store had passed to his wife. Now, Ella was nothing more than an insignificant servant in her stepmother’s eyes.

  With a downcast gaze, Ella returned to the display window and continued cleaning it. Her heart beat rapidly, and she knew that her cheeks were still red from embarrassment. Fortunately, neither Linda nor Hannes could see her. But Ella made certain to position herself so that she could overhear Hannes talking to Linda.

  “Henry!” Linda’s voice sounded chipper and more pleasant now, something else that caused Ella to frown. “How good to see you again!” A slight laugh escaped Linda’s throat. “I’m terribly sorry I couldn’t spend more time with you last week. Something”—she paused—“came up unexpectedly.”

  Ella knew that eavesdropping was not polite, but in the empty store, it was impossible to not hear them. Besides, Linda had no more ability to speak softly than she had to behave kindly. Curiosity got the best of her, however, and Ella leaned over so that she could peek around the corner of the aisle. She noticed that Hannes straightened his shoulders and pressed his hands on the counter. The way he stood made him seem more authoritative.

  “So I overheard,” he said drily.

  Linda mirrored his stance as if trying to dominate him. “To be honest, I was expecting your father to come, seeing that my intention is to do business with him.”

  Do business with Hannes’s father? Ella’s eyes widened. What business could Hannes and his father possibly have with Linda?

  “Ja, vell, after our first meeting two weeks ago, my daed asked me to return to town and spend a few days,” Hannes said in a short, crisp tone. “You know, to see what I could learn about the store.”

  “Oh!” Another laugh from Linda, this one sounding just as forced as the first one, but also a bit nervous. “Ja, of course.”

  Two weeks ago? That was when Ella had first observed him watching her at the worship service. And then they had met at the pond. She felt a wave of disappointment. Clearly Hannes hadn’t returned to Echo Creek just to see her! He truly did have business.

  The shuffling of papers caught her attention, and once again, Ella peered around the shelves to see what Linda was looking for.

  “And . . . well, what have you learned?”

  “Quite a bit. Seems that prices keep increasing, and the inventory does not vary.” Hannes stepped away from the counter and gestured for Linda to follow him. Conveniently for Ella, he led her stepmother to an aisle near where she was working.

  “And I understand that you met with the clock maker that my daed sent to you and you offered to take six clocks, but only on consignment, ja?”

  Linda puffed her chest. “Better than pouring out cash for items we’ve never carried before. After all, our folks in Echo Creek are not familiar with that line of products. Surely you cannot expect me to outright pay for such an extravagant inventory item without testing the market first.” She smiled at him. Ella could tell that, yet again, it was forced. “Good business practice, don’t you think?”

  Ella returned her attention to the display, dusting the glass shelves and waiting to hear Hannes’s reply. But she heard only a low mumble and couldn’t make out his words.

  Consignment? she thought. When had her father ever taken anything on consignment? Undoubtedly, Linda was asking for such an arrangement because there was a cash flow problem, and from the sounds of it, Linda didn’t want Hannes to know that. While Ella could understand her reasons, she could not understand why she would outright lie. Nor could she understand what Hannes was doing there, talking business with Linda, in the first place.

  Shaking her head, Ella said a quick prayer, asking God to forgive her stepmother, yet again, for deceiving the young man.

  “Good business practice for you is not good business practice for the vendor. It signals financial issues, which, I’m sure you will agree, is also not a good practice for investors.” Another long pause. “Like us. If you are truly interested in partnering with us, you need to be more up-front about the cash flow situation at the store.”

  Ella stopped working and quietly stood up. Investors? Partners? Were things so bad that Linda was looking to sell part of the business? Her heart sank, and she felt as if a shallow pit had formed in her stomach. Oh, how heartsick her father would be if he were alive!

  Linda appeared panicked. “I can assure you that cash flow is not a problem. Why, ask anyone in town. We are the only store in Echo Creek, after all.”

  “Still, I’ll have to discuss this matter with my daed,” Hannes said, taking a step back toward the counter. “And I wonder about your inventory . . .”

  His voice trailed away, and Linda must have followed him. Ella could no longer see her stepmother, nor could she hear whatever was said next. They both disappeared. Linda must have escorted Hannes behind the counter and into the inventory room, perhaps to talk privately or to show him something in the back.

  Trying to calm herself, Ella glanced around the store. So much of it still showed her father’s hand. He had taken such care of the store, building the shelves himself, studying how to lay out the goods in order to appeal to the shoppers. And yet, there were small changes that no longer represented her father’s practices, but Linda’s.

  The books that Ella’s friend Belle loved so much were now in the back of the last aisle, rather than near the front of the store, where the sewing goods had been moved. Ella had tried to tell her stepmother that moving the sewing goods to the front was a mistake. Women who came for fabrics, needles, and thread lingered. Wouldn’t it be better to have them walk through the store so that they could see other items and, mayhaps, make additional purchases instead of just browsing fabrics near the front door without venturing farther inside?

  Ten minutes passed before Linda led Hannes back into the store. She swept her hand toward a back aisle and pointed to a top shelf. “There,” she said. “That is where we’ve put the clocks.”

  Ella watched as Hannes looked where Linda had pointed to the shelf near the kerosene lanterns. Knowing better than to speak up, Ella kept her thoughts to herself. However, if she had felt free to say what was on her mind, she would have told Linda that clocks would not sell in the kerosene lantern section. Perhaps near the aisle with the dish sets would be a better place.

  To Ella’s surprise, Hannes must have thought the same thing, for he shook his head. “Nee, not there.”

  Linda made a stern face. She wasn’t used to having her suggestions turned down. “And why ever not? That’s a perfectly fine place to display clocks, I’ll have you know.”

  Hannes appeared as if he were forcing himself to remain calm and patient. It was a look that Ella knew well from her own experience. “Clocks are something young men purchase for their intended bride. They would not be looking for such a purchase in the section stocked with kerosene lanterns.” He took a few steps toward another aisle and gestured toward the dishware. “Here. Most young men will also consider purchasing a set of
dishes or glassware. Wouldn’t it be best to display the clocks here? Surely it is a better place to catch his eye and change his mind on the best engagement gift for his future wife.”

  “There’s no room in that aisle,” Linda protested, her tone sounding testy, most likely at having been challenged by the young man.

  Ella spoke up. “I . . . I could rearrange the shelves.”

  Hannes glanced at her, and for a brief moment, a look of confusion crossed his face. Ella wondered if he had forgotten that she was there at all.

  Linda, too, looked at her, but her expression was of irritation. “I thought I told you to clean the window displays!”

  Immediately, the color rose to Ella’s cheeks again, and she turned around, hoping that Hannes did not see her embarrassment at that second rebuke from her stepmother.

  Ten minutes later, Hannes left the store in a hurry, the placement of the clocks not having been settled and Linda clearly none too happy about it. She marched over to where Ella was and put both of her hands on her hips.

  “If I need your help,” Linda snapped, “I will ask for it.”

  Ella lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, Maem.”

  “Indeed you should be!” Turning her head, Linda looked outside the window as Hannes untied his horse from the hitching post. “Now we’ve lost a possible partner, too! Finish up here and go reorganize the stockroom. I’ve had enough of your interference in how I run my store.”

  Daed’s store, Ella thought as she gathered her cleaning supplies and carried them to the back of the building. If only her stepmother would permit her to be more involved, things might actually start turning around for the Troyer family. With Linda as the head of the family, however, it was clear that such change was not something to expect in the foreseeable future.

  Chapter Twelve

  On Tuesday, Ella stood on the front porch, hanging the wet clothes on the line to dry in the morning sun. Her arms ached from lifting the heavy dresses and pinning them to the line. She usually washed clothes on Mondays, saving the linens for Friday afternoons. But since she had worked at the store, Ella hadn’t had time to do the laundry the previous day.

  And, as usual, Linda had left her a long list of chores that she wanted finished by suppertime. Some of the chores were ridiculous, such her request to have Ella wax the kitchen floor—and all of the rest of the hardwood floors, too! Why, Ella had just done that over the winter. Twice! Linda had also put on the list another reminder to kill the mice in the basement. As if Linda has actually gone into the basement since last week, Ella thought.

  Sometimes Ella wondered if her stepmother just made up chores to keep her busy.

  The house was quiet. Both Drusilla and Anna had left already to help their mother at the store. The only noise was the little blue birds that sang and fluttered around the different bird feeders that Ella kept filled. The solitude, broken only by their cheerful song, was welcome, as Ella needed time to think about what had transpired the day before.

  The previous evening, she had hoped to learn more about why Henry “Hannes” Clemens had visited the store. She had wanted to understand what was happening in regard to the bank loan, the unpaid taxes, and now this partnership with the Clemens family. During supper, however, no one spoke about the visit, Linda being unusually silent as if deep in thought, while the two girls had focused their attention on matters more important to them: the charity auction coming up the following week.

  Without any clues to go on, Ella had tried to make sense of why Hannes would be discussing partnering with her stepmother. Hadn’t Linda wanted to get a loan? When had she decided it was better to invite a stranger to partner with her? And how, exactly, would such an arrangement work?

  Now, as Ella stood on the porch, clipping the last apron to the clothesline, she was no closer to understanding any of this.

  Just as she was about to bend down to pick up the basket, she had the strange sensation that someone was watching her. One glance over her shoulder, and Ella saw the very subject of her morning musings observing her from the edge of the street on the other side of the picket fence.

  At first, Ella didn’t speak. She remembered how Linda had treated her in front of Hannes, and she felt a new wave of shame. What must he think of her now? Dropping her hands, she stood there, waiting for Hannes to say something.

  But he remained silent. He appeared to be studying her, perhaps even unaware that she had straightened and taken notice of him. His blue eyes, normally so bright and full of joviality, appeared much more solemn and contemplative. She wondered what he was thinking, and then realized that she truly didn’t want to know. Surely he must have lost respect for her, and that was a realization that made her heart feel heavy.

  The silence became awkward, and Ella took a deep breath. Fine, she thought. I’ll start the conversation. “How long have you been standing there?” she asked.

  Hannes gave a little shake of his head as if returning to the moment. Then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he took a step toward the gate. “There’s something interesting about how a woman hangs clothes on the line,” he said in a soft but thoughtful voice. “You can tell a lot about her personality.”

  Her heart lightened. Perhaps she had misread him and he hadn’t been thinking about the exchange with Linda. “Oh?” She felt a smile on her lips. “And how’s that?”

  Placing his hand on the gate, Hannes pushed it open, and even though she hadn’t invited him, he stepped onto the property. “Take a look at how the clothes are hung.” He pointed to the clothesline as he walked toward her. “You arranged them by color and created a rainbow.”

  Ella blushed. True, to amuse herself, she often hung the dresses from light to dark, with the black aprons at the very end, closest to the porch. She had, indeed, created a rainbow. “I suppose I like to make patterns.”

  Hannes stopped just shy of the porch steps. He gestured toward a neighboring house. “Now, look at that line. There’s no thought to how the clothes are pinned. Trousers are hung in between dresses, shirts among the aprons. There is no pattern or thought to how the clothes are hung. I imagine that woman is very busy and a bit overwhelmed. Her attention to her family is limited, because she has so much to do.”

  While she listened to him, Ella realized that Hannes’s observation was truly quite accurate. Ella laughed. “Susie Lapp lives there. She has eight children, so ja, she has a lot to do. I imagine being creative with hanging clothes isn’t a big priority for her.”

  “Exactly!”

  “Well, then,” she started slowly, “what does my rainbow say about me?”

  Hannes raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her question. “Ah! You? Hmm, let me think.”

  For a long moment, he appeared to be deep in thought, taking his time to consider the question before responding. That was one of the things that Ella liked about Hannes. He was never in a rush to speak. He protected his tongue—a true man of understanding who had learned that there were times to speak and times to remain silent. Even though she had had few interactions with him, she knew that he was prudent with his words and even-tempered with his speech. A godly man, indeed.

  At last, he spoke. “Let’s see, Ella,” he said carefully. “What does your rainbow clothesline say about you? Well, I suspect that you are both creative and methodical, and organized in how you tackle your chores, even though your efforts are hardly, if at all, recognized.”

  The accuracy of his description startled her. How could someone learn so much about a person just from how they hung their clothes on the line? In her mind, she tried to envision several other people’s clotheslines and match their patterns to the hangers’ personality. She felt a smile on her lips.

  True to Hannes’s description, the few people that she knew who organized their laundry in such a methodical way, such as her friend Belle, enjoyed structure, never shunned hard work, and often sacrificed for their families without being appreciated.

  And those who did not care about the order of the lau
ndry, such as Belle’s sisters or Susie Lapp, were disorganized and unorganized, whether from laziness, as was the case of the former, or from a general sense of feeling overwhelmed, as in the case of the latter.

  “My word!” she whispered to herself.

  Hannes grinned. “I’m guessing that’s close to the truth, eh?” Before she could respond, Hannes placed a foot on the porch step and leaned forward. “I thought so. Which was why I was hoping to find you.”

  “You wanted to discuss how I hang my clothes on the line?”

  He gave a small laugh and shook his head. “Nee, Ella. I was hoping to catch you alone to talk about yesterday.”

  Inwardly, she cringed. That was the last thing she wanted to talk about. She had hoped that he had forgotten about the episode at the store. Averting her eyes, which still stung from humiliation at how Linda had treated her, she managed to respond with a soft “Oh.”

  “I was surprised to see you at the store yesterday.”

  Nervously, she swallowed. “Did you get anywhere in your business dealings with Linda?”

  A dark cloud passed over his face. “You mean that woman at Troyers’ General Store?” He shook his head. “Nee, and I’m not so certain I want to do business with such a woman.”

  Suddenly, it dawned on Ella that Hannes didn’t know he was talking about her stepmother. She froze, wondering how to broach the subject. She felt awkward mentioning it, worried that he would think she had purposefully misled him—but she hadn’t. She just had never mentioned her last name. In that moment, she knew that she must disclose this information to him, for surely he’d find out sooner or later. If she didn’t tell him now, then he would be correct in thinking she had intentionally withheld the truth.

  “Oh help,” she muttered. “Hannes, I need to—”