His Amish Choice Page 8

  Chapter Six

  A number of days later, Lizzie shook out a damp sheet and hung it over the clothesline. She quickly attached it at each end and put a couple of pins in the middle, to keep it from sagging to the ground. In spite of the chill in the air, morning sunlight gleamed across the yard, a mild breeze coming from the east. Red, gold and brown leaves fluttered to the ground. Maybe later that afternoon, she could get the girls to rake the front yard.

  By noon, the laundry should be dry and ready to be ironed and put away. She took a deep inhale, enjoying the momentarily peaceful interlude and the beauty of the autumn leaves. Once the weather turned, she’d have to hang their clothes on racks inside the house to dry.

  The rattle of a buggy caught her attention and she lifted her head toward the dirt road. Mervin Schwartz pulled into the front yard. Wiping her hands on her apron, Lizzie went to greet him. She held the horse steady while Mervin heaved himself off the buggy seat. A portly man of perhaps forty-five years, he winced as he tried to step down.

  “Let me help you.” Lizzie took his arm, noticing he wore a work boot on his right foot and only a heavy wool sock on his left.

  “Danke,” he spoke in a breathless wheeze once he stood on the ground. He favored the shoeless foot as he hobbled toward the front porch.

  “Do you have an injury?” she asked, helping him climb the steps to the front door. Instead of going inside, he dropped down into one of the low Adirondack chairs Daed had made with his own hands.

  “Ne, but I’ve got the gout something terrible.” He groaned, easing himself back as he gripped the armrests of the chair.

  “I’m so sorry. What can I do? Can I get you something?” she asked, feeling a bit helpless and wondering why he’d come all the way out here to their farm when he should be home, resting.

  Mervin shook his head, his face flushed with sweat in spite of the cool day. “I came to see Eli Stoltzfus. He helped Deacon Albrecht with his leg wound and I’m hoping he’ll know what I can do to ease the pain in my foot.”

  Lizzie blinked, thinking Mervin had lost his mind. “But Eli isn’t a doctor.”

  “I don’t want a doctor. Eli is one of us and yet he’s had schooling and will know what to do for me.”

  His obvious faith in Eli astonished Lizzie. A number of her people served one another according to their specialties. Amos Yoder was the best blacksmith in their community. Linda Hostetler dried plants to make special teas, ointments, tonics, salves and liniments. Everyone valued their contributions. But their skills had been learned at home, as part of the community. Not through a fancy education in the Englisch world. To have a member of their congregation ask for Eli’s help specifically because he’d received a college education seemed odd to Lizzie, especially since her people shunned higher learning.

  “I...I’ll see if I can find Eli,” she said.

  Stepping down from the porch, she rounded the house and hurried toward the barn. Inside, the musty scent of clean straw filled her nose as she blinked to let her eyes become accustomed to the dim interior. Eli sat on the top of an old barrel, a harness spread across his lap as he mended the leather straps. Lizzie wasn’t surprised to find Marty and Annie helping him. The girls both liked Eli and he was kind to them. Wherever he was, they were usually there too. Just now, her sisters were pulling the lead lines out of the way, holding them straight so he could make sense of the melee of straps, hooks and buckles.

  “Ach, that’s good. Hold it steady now.”

  Eli bent his dark head over the mess, his long, graceful fingers pulling apart a particularly stubborn knot. His black felt hat hung from a hook on the wall, his short hair curling against the nape of his neck.

  In the quiet of the barn, no one seemed to notice Lizzie. For a few moments, she stood watching from the shadows, enjoying the serenity of the scene. Then, she cleared her throat.

  “Eli?”

  He looked up, his handsome mouth curved in a ready smile, his sharp gaze seeming to nail her to the wall.

  “Lizzie-bee.” He said her name softly, like a caress, and she couldn’t help shivering.

  She folded her arms. “Um, Mervin Schwartz is up at the house. He’s hoping you can help him with his gout.”

  Eli’s forehead crinkled as he stood and laid the harness on the ground before looking at the little girls. “Well then, my two good assistants, it seems we will have to mend the harness later on. Right now, someone needs our help.”

  He smiled and tugged playfully on the ribbons of their prayer kapps before whisking his hat off the hook and heading toward Lizzie. He paused at the door, pushing it wide while he waited for her to precede him outside. She did so, feeling suddenly flustered by his good manners. The little girls exited as well, and then raced ahead of them. As Lizzie walked toward the house, she was more than conscious of Eli following behind. She could almost feel his steely eyes boring a hole in her back.

  The girls greeted Mervin and initially watched with curiosity as the two men discussed the problem, but the girls soon disappeared when Mervin removed his sock and revealed a rather hairy foot with a large, red bump on the side of his big toe. Even Lizzie could tell it was inflamed. The skin looked red and dry, with an odor like Limburger cheese emanating from his toes. Trying to hide her grimace, Lizzie stood back, feeling a bit repulsed. But not Eli.

  With infinite gentleness, he knelt before Mervin and cupped the front of the man’s foot in both hands. When Eli lightly touched the bump with his fingertips, Mervin inhaled a sharp breath through his teeth.

  “It hurts, huh?” Eli asked without looking up.

  “Ja, a lot. I can hardly stand to walk on it and I’ve got chores needing to be done. Can you do something to help me?” Mervin asked.

  Lizzie could hardly believe Eli didn’t draw back in disgust. A vision of the Savior washing the feet of His disciples suddenly flashed inside her mind and she couldn’t help respecting Eli for not shying away.

  Looking up, Eli met Lizzie’s gaze. “Do you have a bag of frozen peas and a clean dish towel I can use?”

  She nodded, thinking of all the foods they had stuffed inside their propane-powered refrigerator. She wasn’t naive enough to ask why he needed the peas.

  Whirling around, she hurried inside and opened the small freezer box. She rummaged around until she found what she was after, snapped up a dish towel, then raced back outside.

  The screen door clapped closed behind her as she handed the items to Eli. After scooting another chair close in front of Mervin, Eli wrapped the cloth around the bag of frozen peas. With gentle precision, he lifted Mervin’s foot to the chair and laid the cold compress across his big toe.

  Mervin laid his head back and groaned, closing his eyes for several moments.

  Sitting next to Mervin, Eli met his gaze. “You know I’m not a doctor, right?”

  “Ja, but you know what I need, don’t you?” Mervin responded in a half-desperate voice.

  “Ja, you need a qualified doctor,” Eli said. “Someone like Dr. McGann can prescribe some medicine to help reduce the uric acid in your joints. All I can suggest is that you take an anti-inflammatory medication, drink lots of water and eat a handful of cherries every day.”

  Mervin blinked, taking in every word. “Cherries?”

  “Ja, they’re a natural way to reduce the uric acid. But a doctor can give you a complete list of other foods to eat or avoid eating.”

  Tilting his head to one side, Mervin’s jowls bobbed. “Like what kinds of foods to avoid?”

  Eli shrugged. “Things like bacon, fish, liver, beef, corn syrup...”

  Mervin’s eyes widened. “Liver? Bacon?”

  “Ja, they’re high in purine, which contributes to the uric acid in your blood. They’ll make the gout worse.”

  “Ach!” Mervin lifted a hand to his face as he shook his head. “I eat liver almost every morning. I
love it covered with fried onions.”

  “I’d recommend you no longer eat it. I’d also recommend you lose twenty pounds.”

  Mervin frowned.

  Eli rested a consoling hand on the man’s arm. “You may need to give up a few foods and watch your portion sizes, but I guarantee it’ll help you feel better. But more than anything, it’s important for you to go see Dr. McGann as soon as possible.”

  Mervin pursed his lips, his face slightly flushed with repugnance. “But he’s an Englischer.”

  He said it as if it were a dirty word. Although they all lived among the Englisch and did business with them, some of their people didn’t like to mingle with them any more than absolutely necessary.

  “Ja, Dr. McGann is Englisch. But he’s also experienced, capable and kind. He won’t force you to do what you don’t want to do, but he can ease a lot of your pain. Go see him. I wouldn’t send you to him if I didn’t believe he could help.”

  A deep frown settled across Mervin’s forehead. “All right. I’ll go. But only because you trust him.”

  “I do. Explicitly,” Eli said.

  His concession seemed to ease the tension in Mervin’s shoulders. Lizzie quickly made a pitcher of lemonade for them to enjoy and they talked about inconsequential things for a short time. When Eli removed the bag of peas, Mervin announced that his big toe felt a bit better.

  “It’s just a dull throb. I believe I can even stand the drive home now,” Mervin said with delight.

  “Good. But I fear it won’t last long. The pain will return,” Eli said.

  “That’s all right. I’ll go see Doc McGann tomorrow and buy some cherries at the grocery store on my way home. And I’ll ask Hannah to fix something else for breakfast besides fried liver.”

  Eli chuckled and Lizzie couldn’t help smiling too. They assisted the man to his buggy and she couldn’t help noticing Eli’s caring compassion. He ensured the man was seated comfortably before handing him the lead lines.

  “You drive safely. And I’ll check back with you at church on Sunday,” Eli said.

  “Danke. You’ve been a lot of help, my friend. It’s gut to have you back home where you belong.” Mervin tipped his hat, then clicked to the horse.

  As the buggy pulled away, Lizzie couldn’t help shooting a sideways glance at Eli. She studied him for just a moment, then flinched when he turned abruptly and caught her watching him.

  “Ach, look how the time has flown,” she said. “I’ve still got so much work to do. I shouldn’t have visited so long.”

  Turning, she hurried toward the house, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze following her. Her brain churned with confusion. Though she disapproved of Eli’s worldly knowledge, she could see how it could benefit their people. That was good, wasn’t it? But such knowledge often led to Hochmut. And pride was never a good thing. It kept a person from being humble and receptive to Gott’s will. And the fact that Eli had gotten his education prior to committing to their faith seemed a bit like cheating to Lizzie. He’d known all along that he could make peace with his people as long as he got his education before being baptized. It seemed he’d gotten what he wanted from the Englisch world, which meant it likely cost him little to return. So, how could she accept Eli and his higher learning now? She couldn’t. It was that simple.

  * * *

  An hour after Mervin left, Eli had finished repairing the harness and taken Billie out for a drive with the buggy. He wanted to see if the horse was skittish around passing cars and trucks. He was delighted when the animal didn’t even flinch.

  Now, Eli stood at the side of the barn chopping wood. Wielding an ax, he split the last piece of kindling, then sank the blade of the tool into the top of the chopping block. Arching his back, Eli wiped his forehead with his shirtsleeve, thinking he’d have this cord of wood split by the middle of next week. As he eyed the neatly stacked pile of kindling, he felt satisfied that the Beilers wouldn’t run out of fuel for their cookstove this winter.

  “Oh, no you don’t. Get out of here. Shoo!”

  Eli jerked around, wondering what had caused such a frenzy of shouts. Wielding a broom, Lizzie chased two fat pigs across the backyard. Her laundry basket sat on its side beneath the clothesline. Obviously, she had dropped it there when she came out to collect the laundry...and found pigs in the yard. One of the swine raced toward the garden just beyond the clothesline.

  “Ne!” Lizzie tore after the animal, swatting its hindquarters with the broom.

  The pig squealed and veered right, barely missing the clean sheet. Understanding how the animals could ruin Lizzie’s hard work if they tangled with the laundry, Eli raced forward to help her.

  “Haw! Haw!” he yelled, waving his arms to direct the swine back toward their pen.

  The pigs snorted and oinked as they pattered in the right direction, their short legs moving fast.

  Flanking them on the right, Lizzie helped Eli herd them into the pen.

  Victory!

  Before the animals could escape again, Eli shut the gate. In the process, his boots slipped in the mud and down he went, landing on his backside.

  Lizzie gasped. “Eli! Are you hurt?”

  Standing just inside the gate, she gripped her broom like a savage warrior. She looked so fierce and endearing that he couldn’t contain a chuckle.

  Sitting in the mud, he bit his tongue. The cold muck seeped through his pants, soaking him to the skin. Lifting his hands, he flung great dollops of black sludge off his fingers. Now what would he do? He had an afternoon of chores left to complete with no clean change of clothes.

  A chortling sound caused him to look up. Lizzie stood in front of him, trying—and failing—to hide her laughter behind her hand.

  Eli tilted his head. “May I ask what is so funny?”

  She hunched her shoulders, no longer laughing, but her smile stayed firmly in place. “You are. I think you are a bit too old to play in the dreck.”

  He looked down at himself, noting how long it would take to get the mud off, then looked back at her. “Ja, I agree. When you can quit laughing, would you mind helping me up?”

  He held out his arm and waited. Leaning her broom against the pen, she took firm hold of his hand, braced her feet and pulled hard.

  A heavy sucking sound heralded his freedom from the mud. As he stood before her, he felt absolutely dismayed by his predicament...until he heard her laughter again. When he glanced up, her laughter cut off, but her eyes twinkled with mirth. Being near her made his heart rate trip into double time. In spite of her frequent looks of disapproval, he felt happy being around her and figured it must be because they’d been so close once.

  “You have dreck on your face.” He reached his free hand up to wipe a streak of mud off the tip of her nose.

  She gave an embarrassed giggle. “At least I’m not wearing it all over my clothes.”

  He chuckled helplessly and indicated her nose. “I’m sorry, but I just made it worse.”

  She wiped at her face, removing most of the muck.

  Looking into her sparkling blue eyes, he felt thoroughly enchanted. She stared back at him, her lips slightly parted. Then he remembered that Shannon’s eyes were a dark amber color and his heart gave a painful squeeze.

  He stepped back, feeling flushed with shame. It was disloyal for him to flirt with another woman, wasn’t it? Shannon was gone, but his heart was still tied to her. He couldn’t seem to let go of the pain or the guilt. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Lizzie about his fiancée. To confide his heartache over Shannon’s death. But Lizzie’s expression changed to a doubtful scowl.

  She turned toward the house. “I’d better get the laundry gathered in and finish making sandwiches. I’ll lay out some of Daed’s clothing on the back porch if you’d like to get cleaned up. Then you can join us for lunch.”

  Without waiting for his reply,
she walked fast toward the clothesline. He watched as she rinsed her hands with the garden hose, then jerked the pins from the clean sheets and haphazardly folded them and the other clothing before dropping each piece into the laundry basket. Without a backward glance, she went inside. Only when the door closed behind her did he realize he was still staring.

  Swallowing heavily, he shivered as a cool breeze swept over him. He headed toward the house, eager to get out of his damp clothes. When he’d stared into Lizzie’s eyes, he’d felt the attraction between them. But it wasn’t right. Shannon should be here with him, not Lizzie. He’d been Shannon’s fiancé and would have soon been her husband. It had been his job to look after her, to protect her, but he’d failed miserably. And it occurred to him that he’d failed Lizzie too. Twice, he’d lost the opportunity to marry the woman he loved. And both times, it had been his own fault. Though he longed to have a familye of his own, maybe he’d let the chance for happiness pass him by.

  Pushing his morose thoughts aside, he went to the outside faucet and rinsed himself off. He gasped and trembled in the frigid water. After he’d rinsed the muck off his work boots, he stepped up onto the back porch in his bare feet and found a pile of clean clothing waiting for him along with a fluffy towel. He quickly retired to the barn where he got cleaned up. When he returned to the kitchen, Marty and Annie were already seated at the table. The spicy aroma of allspice and cloves filled his senses.

  “We waited for you, Eli. Lizzie made pumpkin bread,” little Annie chirped in a happy tone.

  “First, you must eat a sandwich.” Lizzie stood in front of the counter, slicing homemade bread. She didn’t spare him a glance as she set a plate of bologna and cheese on the table beside a bowl of sliced melon.

  “We’re real hungry and you took a long time,” Marty added, her forehead creased with impatience.

  He smiled, noticing that Annie’s kapp was crooked. As he took his seat, he straightened it, then brushed his finger against the tip of her nose. “Ach, I’m famished too. Let’s eat.”