Free Ella Finds Love Again by Jerry S. Eicher

It would seem almost a sin. At least Ivan doesn’t give me nightmares like the bishop. He has never kissed me though. I think he doesn’t quite dare, and I can’t blame him, the poor man. He so wants to take me in his arms, but for some reason he doesn’t. It’s such a strange feeling in that I’m glad he doesn’t. I don’t like being so close to a man who wants me and being unable to respond one way or the other.
I have my hopes set on spring. I’m thinking that with the break of the weather, and when the birds begin singing again, a little love will come stealing back into my heart. Ivan already held my hands, and that wasn’t too bad. It just wasn’t like Aden. There was none of that feeling where my heart almost freezes with pain because I want him so much.
Ivan is so unsure of himself. His love seems all locked up inside of him. I’ve even seen alarm in his eyes, like he’s scared of how he feels. It’s almost like I draw him somewhere that he’s forbidden to go. Perhaps that’s because he’s been married already and I haven’t. He might be thinking about things I have never known.
Yet Aden held me and kissed me. It was pure heaven and contained not a moment of shame. I know how that feels. Can’t Ivan go there? Is that too much to ask? Yet I can’t blame him…really. I don’t want to go there either. Because I know it won’t be the same, and I know my heart will break all over again if it were.
Love will come again, I tell myself. Perhaps like a breeze, stealing my heart away. I might have to make the first move, like I did the other night, taking Ivan’s hands in mine, showing him that I really want to try. That I believe love can happen for us. That we can both have joy on this earth again. That after our loss, two hearts can be mended and molded together.
     
    When nothing more occurred to Ella, she closed the journal, the pages of the tablet falling together softly. For a moment she thought she heard someone drive in. It seemed like the sound made by an Englisha car driving on snow. But who would come today? Her quilt shop was open, but few people stopped by in the wintertime. Especially in this kind of weather.
    Baby Barbara kicked her feet, and Ella walked past to look out the basement window. There was no sign of any vehicle. She must have imagined the sound. And it was time she prepared lunch for the girls. Ronda would be down soon, and their long afternoon of quilt work would begin.
    Ella hid the journal behind a pile of folded dresses. It could stay there until she had time to put it away tonight. She was written out, and as tired as she felt, an early bedtime would be exactly what she needed.
    She returned to the kitchen and paused, hearing the distinct sound of a knock on the first-floor door. Ronda’s faint footsteps walked across the hardwood floor going to answer, and Ella listened to the muffled voices. The front door shut again, much too quickly for the person to have wanted anything with Ronda. She listened. Yah, there were footsteps crunching on her snow-covered basement steps. Quickly she bent over to straighten baby Barbara’s blanket, pushing the journal deeper under the clothing. Obviously it was a customer she had heard driving in.
    Male pant legs went past the window— Englisha pants. Ella rushed to the basement door. Whatever he wanted, this visitor didn’t need to come too far inside. Her wash hung behind the curtains, out of sight, but the smell was in the air. A woman would know why, but a man might think she kept a musty house.
    He knocked on the door with a quick and decisive knock. Apparently he knew what he wanted.
    “ Gut morning,” Ella said, pulling the door open slightly.
    The snow made the dreary day brighter than it was, and Ella squinted.
    “Ah…” the man said, smiling broadly. “Is this Ella’s Quilt Shop?”
    “Yah,” she said, surprised. What does a man want to see quilts for? she thought.
    “May I come inside?” he asked.
    “You…you