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loudly at the thought that she glanced at the girls. Thankfully they still breathed deeply, lost in slumber. She knew Ivan would be agreeable to marriage, whatever her terms. There was little question there.
    But she needed more time. She must allow her heart to follow with its feelings. She could still have the girls during the week, and Ivan could continue to wait a few more months for a wife. They would soon enough have the rest of their lives to spend together. And her love for the girls would continue to grow. There would be no more suppers here at Ivan’s house before then, of that she was determined.
    Ella retrieved the kerosene lamp from across the hall and made her way downstairs. A quick glance through the window seemed to show a light in the barn. She continued to Ivan’s room and quickly checked on baby Barbara. Then she moved back into the kitchen, left the lamp on the table, and returned to the living room window.
    The sky had just the slightest hint of light on the horizon. The cloud cover was still heavy, but snow was no longer falling. When the barn door opened, a dim glow of light spilled onto the snow, revealing Ivan’s form in the doorway.
    He must be staring out toward the road, Ella thought. Has he been able to get out and spread the news of his mamm’s passing already? She looked down. There were no footprints in the snow. No path shoveled to the road. The road itself still looked closed. So though he hadn’t been out yet, he would surely leave soon. Necessity demanded it.
    She would fix breakfast for the girls, and Ivan could eat over at the dawdy haus . This might keep the girls from further associating the two of them together. That decided, there really was no rush. This was a Sunday morning, and the girls would likely sleep for some time. She might as well make herself useful in some way, and helping with the milking seemed the most obvious choice. Since the snowstorm meant no one else knew about the death in the family, the neighbors weren’t here to take over the duties of the house and farm.
    What was she to wear? She certainly couldn’t milk in her best dress. Ella paced the floor, thinking, watching the road for the headlights of county snowplows that would open the roads so Ivan could get out. The front yard will need clearing for the funeral, she thought . When help finally comes there will certainly be plenty to do, the teams of horses pulling flip shovels, tossing and pushing snow into high banks.
    But for now she needed to help with the milking. First she had to find a chore dress. Perhaps there would be one in Ivan’s bedroom. He would not likely have disposed of Lois’s dresses. The thought of going through the closet in Ivan’s room left her cold, but clothes were clothes, whoever had worn them in the past. She needed to be practical about this. Wasn’t she already trying to be practical about her marriage plans? Wearing Lois’s dress might help things along.
    Ella retrieved the lamp from the kitchen and cautiously opened the bedroom door. The bedcovers were still thrown on the floor, and baby clothing was strewn around. Baby Barbara slept soundly in the crib. The man certainly could use a wife. But what would Ivan think if he knew she was in here? And wearing one of Lois’s dresses was not something that could be hidden when she arrived in the barn.
    Lois had been Ivan’s wife—unlike what Ella had been to Aden. What would Ivan think about that? The difference between them was vast. Ella carefully set the kerosene lamp on a dresser. When she opened the closet door, the baby stirred. Ella froze until the even breathing started again. As she expected, one side of the closet still held dresses. Are they the right size? Ella couldn’t remember exactly how Lois had looked, but she reached for a dress. A dark blue one looked worn enough for her purposes, and she took it off the rack.
    Holding the dress up against her side, there seemed no reason the dress shouldn’t fit.