Ella: An Amish Retelling 0f Cinderella (An Amish Fairytale Book 2) Page 3

  It was always that way. Linda knew best and did what she wanted. While Ella’s father had been alive, Linda had often argued with him about how he ran the store. However, when he disagreed with her suggestions, which was most of the time, he hadn’t been one to compromise just to soothe a bruised ego.

  And the store had been more than profitable.

  Once her father passed away, Linda had wasted no time in reorganizing the store. She shut it down for a week, something that most people thought was due to her husband’s death. But Linda had had other plans. After the funeral service and burial, Linda had thrown herself right into the store, implementing idea after idea that seemed to have been fermenting during their marriage.

  Ella had worried that her stepmother was attempting to avoid mourning, but she quickly realized that Linda was simply moving on, and a bit too fast, for some people’s taste.

  A week after Ella’s father died, Linda reopened Troyers’ General Store. Everything was rearranged and the prices had increased. Everyone in the town mumbled about the change. And then Linda began introducing new inventory—items that weren’t normally found in an Amish general store. When that, too, didn’t go over very well, Linda began raising prices again.

  And she refused to support some of the community members. In fact, just that summer, Linda had refused to carry a new wood-burning grill created by Melvin Beiler, the father of Ella’s friend Belle. That was unfortunate for Linda, as the grill had taken off, becoming an amazing success among the Englischers, and the Beiler family had seen a change of fortune.

  Ella sighed. There was simply no talking sense into her stepmother.

  “What happened with that vendor, the clock maker?” Drusilla asked. “Did he stop by today?”

  Linda made a scoffing noise in her throat. “Oh, ja, sure he did. Just when I received this letter about the taxes. I asked him to come back another day.”

  Oh help! Ella thought. She could only imagine her stepmother’s reaction to the letter—probably ranting and raving!—just as a new potential vendor walked into the store. Surely he had overheard Linda and knew there were money issues.

  “So what’ll happen when you meet with him, then?” Drusilla asked.

  Drusilla’s questions caught Ella off guard. Hadn’t Drusilla been working at the store all day? Or had she, once again, snuck off to go visit with Timothy Miller?

  “I told him to come back next week to discuss the matter further.”

  Ella wondered what was so difficult to discuss. With only one general store in Echo Creek, it would be wise to offer clocks . . . if they were of good quality, of course. In fact, if her stepmother had asked her for advice, she would have recommended keeping a sample of several different models on display and letting people order them, thus eliminating the need to keep an inventory in the storeroom.

  But Linda never asked her for advice, and Ella knew better than to offer it.

  With a heavy sigh, Linda drank her tea and set down the empty glass on the kitchen table. “Reckon I’ll retire early tonight,” she said, even though the sun had not fully set in the sky and Ella had supper warming on the stove top. “Need to figure out how to pay these taxes. Seems like a bank loan is the only option left.”

  Ella cringed. Her father had worked so hard to ensure that they lived a life free and clear of debt. The house was paid for, the store building was paid for, and his inventory was paid for. He always claimed that it was better to owe money to no man, even if that meant hard work and sacrifice.

  Clearly Linda had never been listening when her father said that.

  “A bank loan?” Ella blurted out. “That can’t be the answer, Maem!”

  “Oh, what would you know of such things?” Linda snapped at her.

  The criticism chafed, but Ella persisted. “If you aren’t making money now, you’ll only owe more money to the banks, that’s all. And that’s if you can even get a loan.”

  “Of course I can get a loan!” Linda’s expression said it all: she thought Ella was speaking absurdities. “Why, I’m the only general store in town. Where else will people purchase their goods? From Liberty Falls?” she asked as she stood up. “No one will travel that far, for sure and certain!”

  Ella wished she had the courage to remind Linda that Melvin Beiler had done that very thing: taken his business to Liberty Falls when Linda had refused to sell his newly designed cooking grills. Had she been more forward thinking, she could have been an exclusive distributor of the product and made enough money to cover any losses from the rest of the store.

  But she had turned him away.

  “Perhaps someone else will open a store.”

  Linda whirled around and glared at her. “There isn’t room in town for two general stores!”

  And that was exactly Ella’s point. The people needed to buy their dry goods from somewhere, and if Linda didn’t lower prices, people would go elsewhere. It wouldn’t be long before Linda might lose all of her customers to Liberty Falls or, even worse, unconsciously invited competition into the town. “Either way, you will keep losing business if you don’t lower prices.”

  “Why, Ella! You’d have me give half of the store away with little to no profit. Then where would we be?” A noise that sounded like a cackle escaped her thin lips. “Such nonsense, Ella. Really.” She started walking to the bedroom door near the staircase that led upstairs. “If I choose to get a partner or even to sell the store, you should mind your own business. The store’s mine now, not yours.”

  Furious, Linda stormed out of the kitchen, making certain to shut her bedroom door just a little too loudly, a further indication of her displeasure.

  Ella, too, felt displeasure. The thought of someone else being brought into the store as a partner didn’t sit well with her. Her father had started it and had created a wonderful enterprise that benefited the community. Ever since his death, Linda had been slowly destroying it. And if Linda actually sold the business, Ella could only foresee more problems.

  “Now look what you’ve done, Ella!” Drusilla said abruptly as she, too, stood up.

  Anna followed her older sister’s example. “You’ve gone and upset Maem!”

  Both girls hurried to the first-floor bedroom, knocking once before entering, as if they intended to console their mother. But one look around the kitchen and Ella knew the truth. While they feigned concern for their mother, it was the evening chores that they were most likely trying to avoid.

  Again.

  With a little sigh, Ella stood up, gathered the untouched cups of tea, and carried them to the kitchen sink. After turning on the faucet, she stared out the window while waiting for the hot water.

  If only her father hadn’t passed away. If only Linda would listen to some advice instead of thinking she knew it all. If only . . .

  Ella knew better than to keep listing the if onlys. The list was endless and only further disheartened her. It was better to push the problems into the back of her mind and focus on the here and now. And that was full of a long list of another kind: chores.

  At least she had something to distract her.

  Chapter Three

  On Sunday, Ella sat on the hard pine bench listening to Deacon King preach. She always enjoyed when he preached, for his sermons were spirited in nature and always full of good, practical guidance taken right from Scripture. Sometimes the preachers, especially those who occasionally visited their church, were not as eloquent as Deacon King. With his long white beard and shaved upper lip, he was a striking older man. His voice was kind and never condescending, especially when he spoke before the congregation. And he always preached about matters that seemed appropriate to whatever was happening in the community at that moment.

  Today, John King was preaching about humility and why it was so important for the congregation to keep modest views of their own importance. For Ella, it was a timely sermon, and she certainly hoped that she was not the only person seated on the hard pine benches who was not just listening to but actually
hearing the deacon.

  On that Sunday, service was held at the Millers’ farm. Ella knew at least one person who wasn’t listening to the sermon, and that was Drusilla. She was too busy making moon-eyes at Timothy Miller, who sat on the other side of the barn in the back with the rest of the baptized, but unmarried, young men. Though many of the young men in Echo Creek were either already walking out with someone or, according to Linda, beneath her daughters, Drusilla clearly was interested in Timothy.

  Ella could understand why.

  He was a tall, stocky young man, no more than twenty-two years old. He was fine-looking—not that personal appearances should matter—and hailed from a kindly family; on top of those attractive qualities, he was destined to inherit his father’s farm. Most young women would love to have Timothy Miller escort them home from a singing, or even toss a pebble or two at their window, and Drusilla was no different.

  But with her tendency to avoid chores, both inside and outside the house, Drusilla would make a poor match for an aspiring farmer who would require a hard-working partner, not just a wife.

  The other church leaders were now commenting on Deacon King’s sermon. Half listening, Ella looked ahead of her and saw the back of her friend Belle’s prayer kapp. There was a woman who, despite the odds, had found an unusual match in Adam Hershberger. Even though she could not spot Adam on the other side of the barn, Ella was pleased to see Belle attending worship.

  Earlier that morning, Ella, Anna Rose Grimm, Sadie Whitaker, and Belle Hershberger had walked down the lane together. They were good friends, although Ella was closest with Belle and Sadie. Usually they all sat together in church, or at least near one another. But not today, for Belle now sat with the married women, and Sadie and Ella sat on the bench in front of Anna Rose, who was younger than they. People sat on the benches according to their marital status and their age.

  With the exception of guests.

  One of the young men on the other side of the barn stood up and quietly excused himself. Ella watched, her eyes once again scanning the rear of the barn where the men sat. As the departing man moved, Ella noticed a strange face staring in the direction of the deacon. He was a young man with thick, curly, dark hair that hung over his forehead. And Ella knew that she had never seen him before.

  Curiosity got the best of her, and she wondered who he was. Perhaps because he was seated in the back, no one else had noticed him. Not yet, anyway. Ella suspected that, upon catching a glimpse of the handsome stranger, the young women would fight over trying to serve him for the fellowship meal. She could only imagine her stepsisters’ reaction.

  The time came to sing “Das Loblieb,” the second hymn of the three-hour worship service.

  Oh, how Ella loved to sing!

  And the only thing better than singing a hymn to praise God and recognize the sacrifices of those who believed in Jesus was singing with the congregation during worship.

  There was something amazing about two hundred or more people singing in unison as they lifted their voices to praise God. It didn’t matter if some people were off-key or sang too softly to be heard. Sometimes people forgot the words to a hymn—although no one ever forgot “Das Loblieb,” for it was Hymn 131 of the Ausbund and the second hymn sung at every church service regardless of what church district was meeting.

  O Lord Father, we bless thy name,

  Thy love and thy goodness praise;

  That thou, O Lord, so graciously

  Have been to us always.

  Thou hast brought us together, O Lord,

  To be admonished through thy word.

  Bestow on us thy grace.

  As she began to sing the second verse, Ella kept her eyes shut, her face lifted just a little toward the ceiling of the barn. She could feel the power of God’s love flowing through her as she sang her prayer for God to bestow upon her the wisdom to glorify him through both word and deed, to speak with truth of his power, and to live in submissive righteousness in order to honor God and his glory.

  Whenever she sang “Das Loblieb,” Ella found herself remembering her mother’s last words: Be kind and good, no matter what happens, for God has a plan for you. Just singing those beautiful words to Hymn 131 renewed Ella’s faith and gave her strength to face another week living with her stepmother and stepsisters. After all, her mother had promised her that God had a plan for her, and surely that plan was more than just slaving away for Linda and her daughters.

  When the fourth and final verse of the hymn ended, Ella opened her eyes. But something felt odd, as if someone were watching her. Discreetly, she scanned the room. Most people were quietly waiting for the next preacher to stand up to give his sermon—the shorter of the two for the day.

  Well, almost everyone was waiting.

  One pair of bright blue eyes, so blue that they stood out among the sea of men wearing black who faced the place where the preacher stood in the middle of the room, was focused on her.

  It was the stranger.

  Quickly, Ella looked away. She pressed her lips together and turned her eyes toward the preacher. But that didn’t help, for she could still feel the intensity of those blue eyes on her. She felt heat rise to her cheeks, and she tried to remain focused, even as she wondered if he was still watching her. Curiosity drew her own eyes back to him.

  Sure enough, he had not torn away his gaze.

  Once again, Ella’s eyes flickered away from him, and she forced herself to pay attention to the preacher. She wanted to hear what he said. She also knew that she needed to hear him, for that particular preacher had a habit of approaching the young people after the service and inquiring about what they had learned from his sermon. Woe to the person who could not answer him correctly! While he had never asked her, Ella knew that some young people who hadn’t been able to answer him correctly were subjected to lengthy visits at the preacher’s house during the week to listen to a long, one-on-one reiteration of the sermon.

  Despite knowing this, Ella continued to glance occasionally to where the stranger sat.

  Fortunately, the young man was paying attention to the service now.

  After the preacher’s sermon and lengthy prayer, it was time for the third and final hymn. Ella tried to concentrate on the words that she sang. But it was increasingly difficult, for she felt rather than saw that the stranger was once again watching her. This time, Ella somehow felt the courage to look at him while she sang.

  Even as he, too, sang, his eyes were upon her. It was as if he was listening just to her. Was it possible to filter out the voices of over two hundred people? To hear just one voice among the many? If it was possible, Ella would have guessed that was what the young man was doing. The way he watched her made her feel as if he was hearing no other voice but her own.

  Feeling uncomfortable, she stopped singing and merely mouthed the words, pretending that she was singing.

  Who was he? And, if he was truly a guest, why was he seated in the back with the other unmarried men?

  The hymn ended, and it was time for the kneeling prayer. The sound of two hundred people kneeling down and pressing their foreheads against their folded hands as they rested on the pine benches quickly gave way to silence. A long silence. Not even one child fussed during the silent prayer.

  Ella took this time to pray for her stepmother and her stepsisters. She also prayed for her friend Sadie, who was going through a rough time with her own stepmother, and for her friend Belle, who had just recently married a man she did not love. With so many people in need of God’s love and caring hand, Ella never even stopped once to think about praying for her own needs.

  When the prayer ended and she stood up, her back toward the center of the room as she faced the wall, Ella found herself feeling as if God were in the room with everyone. Perhaps her prayers would be answered this week, she thought. Perhaps this week God would help the people in Echo Creek who needed it the most.

  She genuflected before turning around. The men were standing now, and it was nearly i
mpossible to locate the stranger. And yet she had hoped to spot him. Perhaps she might see him talking with someone and get a hint as to who, exactly, he knew in Echo Creek.

  Try as she might, she could not find him.

  “Oh, Ella. There you are!”

  She looked up and saw Deacon King’s wife, Miriam. A stout but cheerful woman who had always been a take-charge kind of person, Miriam was hurrying toward her. “How are you today, Miriam?” Ella asked with a warm smile on her face. She had always admired Miriam King for her kind heart and quick wit.

  Unlike many of the other aging Amish women in Echo Creek, Miriam did not always hold her tongue. If she saw something she didn’t quite like, she would not hesitate to point it out. Ella often wished that she could be more like Miriam King.

  “I’m in a hurry today, I’m afraid,” Miriam replied. Then, as if she noticed Ella’s eyes scanning the large area of the barn, she asked, “Are you looking for something in particular, Ella?”

  Embarrassed that she had been caught, Ella felt the heat rise to her cheeks. “Not something, but someone.” She shook her head, suddenly feeling silly. She redirected all of her attention to the deacon’s wife. “I’m sorry, Miriam. You were looking for me?”

  Miriam gave her a sideways glance. “Must be someone important, then.”

  “Oh, no!” Ella was quick to dismiss that idea. “Nee, it’s not like that at all. Just that I noticed a stranger was among us, and I was curious as to whom he arrived with.”

  “I see.” Despite those two words, it was clear to Ella that the older woman did not see at all.

  “It’s not important. Honest.” Another smile. “What did you need me for?”

  “What?” Miriam gave her a quizzical look before the realization seemed to strike her that she had, indeed, been looking for Ella. “Oh help! I reckon I’m getting to be an old, ferhoodled woman.” She gave a light little laugh. “Ja, I was looking for you.” She touched Ella’s arm and guided her away from the other people, leaning close to her as if telling her a grave secret. “I usually help in the kitchens, but I must leave before the fellowship meal to go visit some family. I was wondering if you might take my place in the kitchen? You always seem much more attentive than some of the others.” As she said that, Miriam glanced in the direction of Drusilla and Anna.