The Bridesmaid (2 page)

I
f Joanna hadn't witnessed it, she wouldn't have believed Cousin Malinda would break down and cry on the morning of her wedding. Certainly all the preparations were stressful, and November's weather was also quite unpredictable—today was undeniably disappointing, with rain making down in sheets.
But is that reason to shed tears on your wedding day?
Joanna wondered.

Neither of the other two brides Joanna had stood up with had wept before going downstairs to make their marriage vows. But then, neither of those weddings had taken place on days with a cloudburst and deafening thunder.

Standing before the bishop with Malinda and her tall, brown-eyed Andrew, Joanna hoped her cousin wasn't moving ahead with something she might later regret. Once the sacred promises were made, there was no looking back. Marriage was to be honored for life.

Surely Cousin Malinda's tears were related instead to something other than second thoughts or cold feet. Oh, Joanna hoped so. Something to do with a blend of many emotions, maybe?

Through the windows, she saw the last vestiges of leaves falling in the downpour, the sky a slate gray. It nearly looked like nightfall, even though it was closer to noon.

Returning her attention to the bride and groom, Joanna was relieved to see Malinda look up adoringly at Andrew just as Bishop Beiler pronounced them husband and wife. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.”

After the tears, only love remains
, Joanna thought, aware of the reverent spirit in the temporary house of worship. So many church members were present today, as well as extended family from other districts and even Englischer friends.

O Lord, bless Cousin Malinda and her husband, Andrew, with your loving care
, Joanna prayed silently.

All during the wedding feast and the fellowshipping that afternoon, the rain continued, pouring over the eaves and streaming down the windowpanes. Then, lo and behold, it turned to sleet . . . and later to snow, with thick flakes filling the sky.

“Such a lot of weather for a single day,” Joanna overheard Malinda's mother saying to Andrew's, a heavyset woman in her late fifties.

“Makes things interesting, jah?” Andrew's mother replied, making note of the edible wedding novelties for the bride and groom at the
Eck,
the special corner of the wedding table. Besides sticks of chewing gum and wrapped candies, there were little animals made from Rice Krispies and candy. And miniature buggies made from marshmallows, hitched with toothpicks to animal cracker horses.

Joanna nodded absentmindedly from the corner where she and several other single girls, including her golden-haired cousins, Ruthann and Lena, stood talking and nibbling on sweets.

Cora Jane was there, too, looking exceptionally pretty in her bright green dress and white apron. “To be honest, weather ain't the only thing amiss today,” she said, looking askance at Joanna.

For goodness' sake
, thought Joanna, letting the remark slide over her, even though it felt like an ocean wave threatening to topple her. True, this
was
the third time she'd served as a bridesmaid, but now that Eben Troyer was in her life, she wanted to set foolish superstition aside and just enjoy the day.

Joanna thought back to the beautiful beach where she'd met handsome Eben. How she yearned to hear his voice, the way he'd said her name as they walked together. It was easy to fall into that daydream; she missed him terribly. She would not soon forget the delightful day at the mailbox last summer when she'd laid eyes on Eben's first letter, her name and address written in his strong hand. It was the beginning of their long-distance friendship, now blossoming into something so much more. She secretly treasured that special letter, having read and reread it before tucking it safely away in a wooden letter box in her hope chest. It was there that Joanna kept her most treasured possessions, including her writing notebooks.

Around midafternoon, copies of the German hymnal, the
Ausbund,
were passed around, and a special wedding Singing began for the newlyweds' enjoyment, with the courting-age youth sitting in pairs at the feast table.
Such a happy time
, Joanna encouraged herself, out of place though she felt at such gatherings anymore.

She put on a smile when she spied good-looking Jake Lantz, also known as Freckles Jake, sitting across the front room. The nickname arose from the freckles dotting his nose and cheekbones. His tall, robust frame proved he was hardworking, the kind of young man any Amish girl would welcome as a beau. His sandy hair and hazel eyes were identical to those of his younger brother, Jesse, who sat nearby, singing with other fellows in their late teens. Though Jake was twenty-three, both brothers were still quite single—according to the rumors, Jake had scared off a couple of girls on the first date, wanting to hold hands too soon.

Remembering that Eben had taken her hand in his the last evening they'd been together, Joanna couldn't help but smile as she sang with the others. Eben's gesture had been so natural, an outgrowth of their shared affection.

Between songs, Joanna chuckled over the candies made to look like little airplanes that decorated the table in front of her.
When did make-believe planes become the norm at Amish weddings?

Suddenly, she was again aware of Jake's gaze and felt a wave of pity for him, feeling as sorry for him as she had for herself last year around this time, at her first wedding as a bridesmaid. No doubt Jake just wanted to marry and get on with life.
Maybe if he'd had a sister, he'd know better how to treat a girl. . . .

Later, Joanna poured her heart into the gospel song “I Love to Tell the Story,” one of her favorites. But she wasn't able to put Jake out of her mind for long. Several times over the course of the afternoon he caught her eye, and as Joanna learned later, he even went so far as to ask Malinda to pair him up with Joanna for the evening barn Singing.

“He's awful sweet on ya, cousin,” Malinda herself revealed to Joanna in whispered tones prior to the evening meal.

But Joanna gave no indication she'd heard . . . nor did she say she was no longer available. Best to hold to tradition and keep Eben a secret—at least till the proper time.

After the wedding supper, Joanna and the other courting-age young folk headed to the barn for the regular Singing. The evening was still, without a hint of a breeze. If it were summer, she might be sitting out by the pond beyond their barn, bare feet in the water . . . her writing notebook on her lap. Out there, with the occasional breeze, she could keep her stories from prying eyes, especially Cora Jane's. It was one thing for Joanna to keep a daily journal, but quite another to write made-up stories, since fiction was frowned upon by the ministerial brethren.

All of that aside, Joanna had for some years delighted in spinning her imaginary yarns. There were just so many interesting ideas flitting through her head!

She glanced at her younger sister, who stood in her usual cluster of friends and cousins. Here lately, Joanna had suspected Cora Jane was getting close to a marriage proposal. Truth was, with her golden hair and big blue eyes, Cora Jane knew how to get a young man's attention, something she'd even shared back when they were confidantes. Since Joanna had met Eben, however, their sisterly chats had become a thing of the past. And maybe it was for the best, with such a secret to keep.

Joanna remembered clearly what her sister had whispered during one nighttime conversation: that it was important to let a fellow know you were interested, holding his gaze and hanging on to his every word, interjecting a comment here and there while letting him do most of the talking, especially on the first date. And all of that had come so naturally to Joanna with Eben . . . something that had never happened before.

The minute the songs were finished, Jake looked Joanna's way again, and so as not to encourage him a speck, she visited with Cousin Malinda's younger sisters. She wanted nothing more than to slip out of the barn for home, unseen. Feeling a little guilty about her deliberate aloofness, she returned his smile when she again found him looking her way. Her toes curled in her shoes.

Will he take it wrong?

Then, as if by some miracle, Cora Jane, and Malinda's younger sister, Mary Rose, walked over to the other side of the barn to talk with Jake. Feeling much relieved, Joanna wondered if Cora Jane had, perhaps, observed the silent exchange of smiles and sensed Joanna's uneasiness. Had her sister stepped in on purpose?

Looking about her, Joanna saw that she could at last exit discreetly. So she pushed open the barn door and left to walk home through the chilly night. She didn't mind the snowflakes that sprinkled her nose and lips; Joanna simply pulled her coat tighter around her, glad for her scarf and gloves.

In that moment, she had an unexpected thought, one that warmed her heart. What if she and Eben were to marry next wedding season? Which two girls would
she
choose for her bridesmaids? Joanna laughed to herself—she was putting the carriage before the horse again. She was known to have a vivid imagination, something even
Mamma
had pointed out since Joanna was but a little girl. So now Joanna questioned herself: Was it merely wishful thinking to hope her beau might propose, perhaps even via letter? Or was this just the stuff of the romantic fiction she dearly loved to read . . . and write?

Wonderful as it was to anticipate and receive Eben's letters, they were a frequent reminder that her beau lived way out in Shipshewana, where he and his extended family had farmed for generations. She was curious about his parents and siblings—his entire family, really—but hadn't had the gumption to ask, not wanting to appear forward. She sometimes feared she might mess up and write something awkward, spoiling things between them. So she was careful to see that her own letters dealt mostly with daily life and happenings in Hickory Hollow.

Joanna had taken care to capture every detail of her own beloved little hollow there in Lancaster County. She'd also written Eben about the dear folk, like Samuel and Rebecca Lapp, and Paul and Lillianne Hostetler . . . and Ella Mae Zook, the old Wise Woman so many in the area turned to with their problems. Joanna hoped she hadn't gone overboard with her portrayals or the descriptions of the landscape. It was just that she loved everything about Hickory Hollow and was holding her breath that Eben might come
there
to court her, to settle and eventually marry. So far, though, he hadn't said anything of the kind.

Picking up her pace now, she thought of Cora Jane and her steady beau, Gideon Zook. She'd seen him drop her off late at night after a long buggy ride. The memory of Cora Jane's mirth rang out in Joanna's mind—that appealing, melodious laughter.

“Do I laugh enough?” Joanna whispered into the darkness, unsure how to share her lighthearted side in letters to Eben. But there had never been a need to work to impress him. Why, joy of joys, recently Eben had started signing off,
with love
.