Chapter 42
Ten months later
Sticky cotton candy sweet on her tongue, Bonnie craned her head to see past a cluster of overall-clad farmers who’d paused
in front of the auction platform to watch Toby Miller ply his trade. Elijah’s brother was in his element with three English
women and one English man waging a fierce bidding war over a handmade, king-size Broken Star quilt. The Center for Special
Children would see a nice chunk of money for this one item. There were hundreds more pieces from outdoor furniture to tractors
to sewing machines to toys to fresh eggs donated for the express purpose of helping the clinic accomplish its mission of serving
all patients with genetic diseases, regardless of whether they had insurance or the ability to pay.
Theo and Uri had split the cost of hiring a van to travel to the auction in Leola, Pennsylvania. It was the closest fundraiser
for the clinic and one of three for which the Miller brothers would do the calling this year.
Bonnie pressed her hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the blinding June sun. It didn’t help. Times like this, she missed her rollator. Using a wheelchair had many perks, but not being able to see over people who failed to notice that they blocked her view was not one of them. She didn’t have enough strength in her arms to move the chair any distance by herself. The Center for Special Children was working on getting her an electric chair adapted to run on battery power. It would give her so much more freedom. Getting used to a wheelchair had been hard. Another lesson in giving up control, in relying on God and her family. In asking for help. Hard lessons.
“Gotcha.” Her chair started to move. Bonnie swiveled and looked up. Rachelle Miller, Toby’s wife, had commandeered her chair.
“Excuse me. Coming through. Excuse me. Thank you. Thank you.”
The crowd parted. Within seconds Bonnie was parked in front of the bleachers alongside Judah and Robbie King, who sat in their
chairs. Their sister Claire lounged on the front row, her walker parked in front of her, half a dozen of her friends on either
side. They joined in a rousing “bewillkumm,” the loudest coming from little Sadie Miller and her best friend Jonah Lapp.
“Danki, danki.” Bonnie shot Rachelle a grateful smile. “For your help.”
“You’re welcome. We like to have a cheerleading section for our auctioneers.” She grinned. Marriage to Toby suited her. The
former schoolteacher’s figure had filled out after having two babies. Her cheeks were red in the toasty sun. Her eyes sparkled
every time she shot a glance at the stage. “The more the merrier. Where are your mamm and Theo?”
“They went to look at a sofa. Ours is falling apart. It’s been repaired one time too many.”
Although getting a large piece of furniture home to Lee’s Gulch would be a challenge. More likely they would find another way to support the clinic. Mom simply liked to shop. She would spend all day purchasing smaller items that would add up to a nice “donation.”
Although she nodded, Rachelle didn’t seem to be paying much attention to Bonnie’s words. Her gaze skipped over Bonnie’s head,
scanning the crowd. No doubt she wondered about Elijah but was too polite to ask. Unlike her mother-in-law, Elizabeth, who
hemmed and hawed about it every time she came into the shop—which was far more often than she had before her son started courting
one of its co-owners.
Everyone had to know the couple had been courting for almost a year. A wonderful, lovely time of growing closer; snatches
of conversations and kisses in the shop workroom; long, rambling rides in the buggy; and picnics by the creek. So perfect.
So why didn’t Elijah take the next step? Did he still have doubts? Surely not. What held him back? Why, Gott?
“Well, look who’s coming our way.”
Bonnie followed Rachelle’s gaze. Elijah strode along the edge of the crowd, a cardboard box under one arm and a tall reusable
cup in his other hand. He seemed intent on studying the mass of people milling in front of the platform.
“Hey, Elijah!” Rachelle cupped her hands around her mouth. “Elijah! Over here!”
Heat infused Bonnie’s face. Rachelle might not be Elizabeth’s blood relative, but she seemed to be cut from the same cloth.
She squeezed Bonnie’s shoulder. “Gern gschehme.”
What could Bonnie say? “Danki.”
“No worries.” She held out her hand. “Would you like me to take the stick?”
Bonnie gave the cotton candy stick to her. Rachelle took it and, in exchange, gave Bonnie a baby wipe. Always prepared. Bonnie thanked her and took care of her sticky hands while Rachelle traipsed toward a metal barrel trash can at the end of the bleachers. Very strategic withdrawal.
The cheering section was less circumspect. They chorused a welcome to Elijah. His fair skin turned radish red. He ducked his
head. “Hallo.”
“Bruder, Bruder!” Sadie hopped down from the bleacher and ran to Elijah. “What’s in the box? Is it for me?”
“Nee.” Elijah squatted, laid the box next to Bonnie’s wheelchair, and hugged his little sister. “It’s a present for someone
else.”
“Who? I’m your schweschder. I need present.”
“Not this time.” He smiled at Bonnie over Sadie’s head. “This is for grown-up people.”
Sadie’s round face lit up. She whirled and threw herself at Bonnie for another hug. Bonnie returned the favor. The little
girl was a warm ball of chunkiness. She smelled of caramel corn and chocolate milk. “My bruder got you a present. I help you
open it.”
“Not this time.” Elijah gently lifted the girl from Bonnie’s lap. He carried her to the bleachers and settled her next to
Rachelle, who had a knowing grin on her face. “I’ll be back later. I can give you a piggyback ride to the van.”
“Jah, jah, jah,” Sadie sang. “And bring me present.”
He laughed. He looked happy. And so handsome. Breathe.
Bonnie couldn’t contain her smile. “So what is in the box? Is it a present?”
For me?
“Nee, just odds and ends.”
“You bid on a box of odds and ends?”
“Jason was auctioning off a bunch of the mystery boxes—you know the ones you can bid on sight unseen. Sometimes they’re full
of treasures. Sometimes they’re full of junk.”
“How much did you spend on this box of junk?”
“Three whole dollars.”
“And did you find any treasures?”
“We’ll find out later.” Elijah set the box on her lap before she could protest. “Let’s take it to my family’s van. I don’t
want to carry it around all afternoon.”
We’ll. That sounded promising. The box didn’t feel too heavy. The flaps were tightly folded. Her curiosity piqued, Bonnie grabbed
a flap. “Let’s just take a quick look.”
“Nee. No peeking.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Without a backward glance at the Miller/King contingent, Elijah took control of Bonnie’s wheelchair. He wheeled her along
the narrow path between the crowd and the bleachers toward the fairgrounds exhibit hall food court.
Bonnie pointed to the plastic chairs and tables near the long row of food booths with their neon-green paper signs advertising
barbecued chicken, pork sandwiches, soft pretzels, homemade doughnuts, fruit skewers, ice cream, pizza, and much more. “We
could sit over there and look through it.”
Elijah bent closer to be heard over the steady roar of hundreds of people all talking at once. “You’re like a little kid.
It’s just a box of junk.”
“Or a box of treasure. You said so yourself.”
He didn’t stop at the only open table.
“Hey, we were supposed to sit—”
“Never said that.”
“But I’m hungry. I want a cheeseburger and fries.”
“It’s only eleven o’clock. By the time we drop the box off and come back, it’ll be time to eat.”
“You’re being weird.”
“Nee. I’m being the adult.”
“Ha. Since when?”
“Funny, funny.”
He pushed Bonnie’s chair through the throngs of people gathered in front of massive displays of household goods, crafts, toys,
donated appliances, and produce. The ways people and businesses found to support the clinic never ceased to amaze Bonnie.
A good ten minutes later, they approached the long line of vehicles parked in the overflow parking lot. Like Bonnie’s family,
the Millers not associated with the auctioneering business had hired a van to drive them from Virginia to Leola that morning.
They’d arrived too late for close parking. It was halfway down the row.
“Here we are.” Elijah parked Bonnie’s chair behind the van’s back end. He wiped his face on his sleeve. “It’s really warmed
up since we got here.”
He made no move to open the back doors.
Bonnie patted the box. “Put it away so we can go back. Those french fries are calling my name.”
Elijah slapped his hat back on his head. “We should open it first.”
“But you just said—”
“I changed my mind. Go on, open it.”
Bonnie shook her head and rolled her eyes. Sometimes Elijah brought out the teenager in her. “You really are being weird.”
He shrugged. “Heatstroke. It must be eighty-five degrees.”
The allure of these boxes was the unknown. Once Bonnie’s dad bought one and found a rare first edition of a Louisa May Alcott
book that Mom still treasured. Sometimes a box held nothing more than plastic ice trays and Dollar Store trinkets.
It took some doing, but Bonnie finally pulled out all four flaps.
A pair of rooster salt-and-pepper shakers lay nestled in a small red, blue, and purple crib quilt on top. “My mamm will love
the shakers.” She examined the quilt’s tiny, even stitches. Made with love. “Talk about treasures. This alone is worth far
more than three dollars. It’ll be a perfect gift for a bopli born in winter.”
Elijah took both items. “For future conversation... and use. What else is in there?”
Sewing shears, a pack of Uno! cards, a package of clothespins, another of ink pens, a box of birthday cards, a cake tin, a
pie server, a complete set of dominoes, three crossword puzzle books, and a First Baptist Church of Leola Women’s Cookbook of Potluck Recipes .
“Not bad. These are all useful items worth a lot more than three dollars.” She grinned at Elijah. He grinned back, looking
supremely pleased with himself. Bonnie started to close the flaps. “I think we can chalk this one up as treasure.”
“Don’t close it up yet.” Elijah put his hand on hers. “You’re sure there’s nothing else in there? Nothing at all?”
“I don’t think so.” Bonnie tugged her hand free. She rummaged through the items, digging to the bottom. “Oh, jah. Some pot
holders. A box of toothpicks. A Niagara Falls refrigerator magnet. I think that’s it.”
“Are you sure?”
Perplexed, Bonnie ran her gaze over the box’s contents. She pulled out a rumpled piece of paper from under the cookbook. “Except
for this. It’s probably a receipt.”
“Maybe.”
Bonnie unfolded the pale-blue paper. Not a receipt. The neat penciled script seemed familiar. It read:
Dear Bonnie,
Will you marry me?
Love,
Elijah
Tears blurred Bonnie’s vision. She blinked and reread the simple words. After all this time, it didn’t seem possible. Was
it really happening? The paper fluttered to the ground. She lifted her gaze to Elijah.
His hands hung at his sides. Hope danced with uncertainty in his face. He cleared his throat. “I’ve been trying to find a
way to ask you for days. I wasn’t sure—”
“Wasn’t sure I’d say jah?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. He nodded.
“For a smart man, you can be so dumb.”
“That doesn’t sound like jah.”
The letter was sweet, but the question she’d waited so long to hear needed to be spoken. Shaking her head, Bonnie pointed
at the paper that had landed face down in the grass. “Maybe you should try again.”
Elijah straightened. He swiveled left, then right. They were alone in a sea of vehicles under a cloudless Pennsylvania sky.
The crowd’s noise was a distant murmur. Not even a bird uttered a peep. Elijah dropped to both knees. He took Bonnie’s hands
in his. His blue eyes were brilliant in the morning sun. “Will you marry me?”
“Jah. Of course I will.”
He gasped. His dimples reappeared. He jumped to his feet. “Jah, you said jah.”
The folks at the livestock auction could probably hear his shout.
“I did. I thought you’d never ask.” Bonnie smiled up at him. “Why are you so surprised?”
“I didn’t know if it was too soon. I was afraid you’d use the wheelchair as an excuse—”
“I haven’t offered it as an excuse for anything else, have I?” Bonnie began using the chair after her fall the previous summer.
With one broken wrist and the other sprained, she couldn’t use the rollator so she’d made the switch. She simply never went
back. “I can beat Sophia in wheelchair races now, and it makes for a nice lap for the boplin.”
For Opal’s baby, Esther, and for Sophia’s soon-to-be-adopted son, Caleb. Carol’s baby was due in the fall. Bonnie was an honorary
aunt to all of them.
“We said we’d go slow. It’ll be a year in August. I figured that was pretty slow, but maybe your definition is different.”
“I’m so relieved. I was beginning to think you’d never ask.”
“Ach, seriously?” Elijah shoved his hat back. His expression bewildered, he shook his head. “You could’ve said something.”
“The man does the asking.”
“I’ve been so happy, I didn’t want to spoil things by moving too fast. These past ten months have been the best days of my
life.” He knelt again and took her hands in his. “I’m working full time in my workshop. Homespun Handicrafts is doing well.
Your mom and Theo are happy. You’re happy, aren’t you?”
Amazingly happy. The changes had been swift and relentless, yet surmountable. Hannah now worked full time in the store. A
new employee, who also used a wheelchair, had taken over Sophia’s duties. Not that Sophia played any less of a role in the
business end of owning a shop. Same with Carol. They loved Homespun Handicrafts as much as Bonnie did.
Having Theo living in the house had turned out to be far less difficult than Bonnie had imagined. He made Mom laugh. He knew when to be quiet and when to talk. He smiled often and rarely complained. He simply fit. “I’m very happy. You make me happy.”
Elijah’s smile grew—if that were possible. He leaned in. Finally, he kissed her. The moment she’d been waiting for. A kiss
to seal the promise. He tasted of cherry limeade and sweet joy.
As the kiss deepened, Bonnie let go of all the uncertainty, the fears, the what-ifs. The space filled with promises made,
joy, and the certainty of two who would become one. They would face the what-ifs together.
When they finally broke apart, Bonnie clasped Elijah’s face in her hands. “Elijah Miller, did you lure me out here to the
van so we could kiss and make out like youngies?”
His aw-shucks grin grew. “Since we never got to do this as youngies, I thought it was about time.”
“Seriously, though, why here at an auction? Why not some place private?”
“Because I found my courage at an auction. If I could stand in front of a crowd holding a mic and call an auction, I figured
I could summon the courage to ask you the most important question of my life here.”
“Makes sense.” In a guy sort of way. All about bravery and courage. Such a simple question. “I think.”
More kisses. More murmured words of love followed.
After a while, Bonnie leaned back. “It’s perfect. So perfect.”
It wouldn’t always be perfect. Life would get in the way. Her health. The challenges of childbearing for a woman with SMA
weren’t for the faint of heart. Bonnie picked up the crib quilt. She held the soft material to her cheek. “Do you wonder what
our bopli will look like? I hope he has your dimples.”
“I hope he has your heart.” Elijah held out his hand. Bonnie gave him the quilt. “Come what may, we’ll be a family.”
“Like I said, you’re a smart man.”
Elijah laid the quilt in the box. He closed the flaps and picked it up.
“Hey, that’s my box.”
“I bought it at auction.”
“And you gave it to me.” Bonnie nodded at the paper still lying in the grass. “I want my piece of paper in case I need to
prove you asked me. No backing out now.”
“Like I’d try.” Elijah scooped up the paper and handed it to her. She took it, but he didn’t let go. They both held on. Seconds
ticked by. The unspoken words flew back and forth. “It belongs to both of us.”
“For now and forever.” Bonnie let go. “Slip it in the box with our other treasures.”
“Gladly.”
True treasures had nothing to do with pot holders, cookbooks, or refrigerator magnets. Time was theirs to treasure. Bonnie
intended to do just that for all the days of their lives—however many that might be.