First Light in Morning Star Read online

  Lydianne envied Regina’s happiness, even as she realized she, herself, couldn’t possibly marry. When she glanced down the pew bench in front of her, where Julia Nissley cradled a drowsy little Ella in her lap, Lydianne sighed inwardly.

  Ella would forever be her deepest, darkest secret.

  Lydianne couldn’t imagine the repercussions if the Amish congregation in Morning Star found out about her past. It would upset the Nissley family and get Lydianne shunned, at the very least.

  And what husband would want to discover, when he took her to the marriage bed, that Lydianne was not the innocent young woman he’d assumed her to be? Premarital relations were not only frowned upon, they were forbidden by the Ordnung. She and Aden had crossed that line only because they were to be married—never guessing he would die the day before their wedding.

  When Ella awoke, wiggling her fingers in a wave, Lydianne’s heart stood still. As the little girl matured, she resembled Aden Lapp more with each passing day. Ella had inherited her father’s nose, eyebrows, and heart-shaped face, and when she focused on Lydianne, it was as though Aden were gazing at her.

  Shaken to the core, Lydianne quickly returned Ella’s wave and refocused on Preacher Clarence. She would never forget the day she and Aden had attended the Lapp family reunion, so deeply in love as they accepted the congratulations of the far-flung relatives who’d come for their wedding on the following day. Lydianne had suspected she was in the family way, and she’d planned to tell Aden when they found a few moments of privacy.

  But when they’d slipped away to cool off in the state park’s shaded, secluded pond, he’d drowned.

  Aden hadn’t been a strong swimmer—Lydianne wasn’t, either—yet when he’d playfully boasted that she made him feel like such a man he could cross the pond and come back, she’d encouraged him. Not wanting to get her dress wet, she’d waded in barefoot to cheer him on from the shallows. He’d reached the far shore, but as Aden started back toward her, Lydianne could tell he was struggling. When he’d flailed in the pond’s deep center, she’d run to summon help from the other folks at the reunion.

  By the time they’d returned to the water, however, Aden was gone.

  “Lydianne, what’s wrong?” Regina whispered near her ear.

  Her friend’s low voice pulled Lydianne from her tragic memories. When she blinked, she realized tears were dribbling down her cheeks and hastily swiped at them with the back of her hand. “I’m fine,” she murmured. “Just a wandering thought. Nothing to be concerned about.”

  It took all her effort to regain control of her emotions. At long last, Bishop Jeremiah pronounced the benediction. When he announced that the school board had hired her, Lydianne had to force a smile and acknowledge everyone’s congratulations. As the congregation stood up, eager to seek fresh air, she followed the women upstairs to the kitchen. But instead of helping set out the common meal, she hurried outside.

  The shade of the old maple trees in the Slabaugh sisters’ backyard was an improvement over the stuffiness of the crowded basement. Her relief was cut short, however, when the men began setting up large folding tables. Before she could slip back into the kitchen to avoid questions about her damp, pink face, Billy Jay Detweiler made a beeline for her.

  “Teacher Lydianne! Teacher Lydianne!” he cried out. “When Dat told me you were gonna replace Teacher Elam, I was so happy!”

  The boy’s excitement gratified Lydianne—and what could she do but lean toward him and squeeze the small, strong hands that were gripping hers? “It’s going to be a wonderful-gut year, Billy Jay,” she assured him. “And won’t it be fun to start out with new desks and new books and a whole new school building?”

  “Jah! Dat took me over to see it,” he replied with an emphatic nod. “The floors look so shiny and slick, I bet you could slide all the way across the room on your butt if you got a runnin’ start at it!”

  “And I’d better not hear about you doing that, son,” a familiar male voice said behind them. “We’ve talked about how you’re supposed to behave in class, ain’t so?”

  Lydianne turned to smile at Glenn, who was holding tiny, sleepy Levi against his shoulder. “Those floors are so shiny, I doubt he’s the only scholar who’ll try that,” she said gently.

  “Jah!” Billy Jay crowed, still gripping her hands. “Me and Stevie have been talkin’ about it, and we wanna have a contest to see who can slide the farthest!”

  Lydianne burst out laughing before she could catch herself. It probably wasn’t wise to let the boy think she would approve of such an activity—officially, anyway—but it was a treat to see him grinning from ear to ear. “I’m glad you’re excited about starting the school year, Billy Jay,” she said. “You’re a year ahead of Stevie, Gracie, and Ella, so you can show them the ropes.”

  When the boy spotted Stevie Shetler across the yard, he darted off.

  Glenn sighed apologetically. “It is a fine thing to see Billy Jay smiling again,” he remarked, swaying from side to side as he held his other son. “I’m really glad you accepted the position, Lydianne. If there’s anything I can do—anything at all—to help you, or to set my son straight when he gets too wild, I want you to come and tell me first thing, all right? And don’t think you have to have school discipline on your mind as a reason to visit.”

  Lydianne blinked. Was Glenn showing interest in her, inviting her to his home?

  Before she knew how to respond to his remark, she noticed that Bishop Jeremiah was unfolding a table beneath a nearby tree. His facial expression suggested that he’d caught the gist of Glenn’s conversation.

  Why is he looking at us that way? Does he think Glenn’s out of line while he’s still mourning his wife—or is he jealous?

  Rather than saying anything the bishop might construe as inappropriate, Lydianne cleared her throat. “Well—I really should help carry out water pitchers and utensils and such. It’s gut that we’re having a picnic today rather than eating inside, ain’t so?”

  As she entered the farmhouse, she felt like a teenager at a Singing, rejoining her girlfriends to escape from boys whose attention she was trying to avoid. Lydianne shook her head at such a thought. She had no reason to duck away from the bishop or Glenn, because they were both very nice men, each in his own way—

  But why let them think you’re interested? You’ll never get married, remember?

  When she met up with Jo and Regina, who were each carrying a big tray of sandwiches, Lydianne held the door for them. “We maidels need to sit together today,” she said with a pasted-on smile. “We don’t have many more common meals before Regina will be married, and then she won’t want to spend her time with us after Sunday services.”

  Her redheaded friend’s eyes widened. “Why would you ever think that? It’s not as though I’m going to live on a different planet after Gabe and I get hitched!”

  “Jah, but you’ll have other priorities,” Jo put in with a chuckle. “As well you should!”

  As they reached one of the serving tables and set down their trays, Regina motioned for Lydianne and Jo to come closer. “When I heard that this Friday would be your last day at the factory, Lydianne, I told Martin I’d be leaving then, too,” she said softly. “While you’re getting the new schoolhouse ready, I need to be helping Aunt Cora and Delores Flaud with wedding preparations, after all. They’ve insisted on taking charge of the festivities, since I don’t have a mamm to do that.”

  “That’s very sweet, and I’m not one bit surprised,” Lydianne said. She looked around to be sure none of the men were listening to their conversation. “What did Martin say when you wanted to leave earlier than he’d originally figured on?”

  “Jah, did he fuss—because the wedding’s not until October?” Jo asked.

  Regina chuckled. “Truth be told, Delores must’ve already talked to him about the wedding preparations, because he didn’t seem all that surprised about my leaving sooner rather than later. Maybe he’s already found folks to replace us.” />
  As Molly and Marietta Helfing came out of the house carrying big plastic pitchers of iced tea, Jo waved them over. “We’ve just learned that Lydianne and Regina are both leaving the Flaud Furniture Factory next Friday,” she said. “I think this calls for a party, don’t you?”

  “Definitely!” Molly replied. “Not that we need an excuse for a party.”

  “It’s been a while since we all got together for some fun—something besides our potluck meetings in the office at The Marketplace,” her twin sister put in eagerly. “What with making so many more noodles to keep up with our Saturday sales, I’m ready to play!”

  Marietta’s lighthearted remarks raised Lydianne’s spirits. Early in the year, Marietta had finished a brutal round of chemotherapy after having a bilateral mastectomy, so it was good to see her smiling again and regaining her strength. Her cape dress still hung like a sack on her too-skinny frame, and beneath her kapp, her hair was barely an inch long—but at least it was growing back.

  “You could all come to my house!” Lydianne suggested. “We can also celebrate the fact that I’ll soon be a homeowner. I’m signing the contract in a couple of days. And since next week’s a visiting Sunday—”

  “I’m gut with going to your place as long as you let the rest of us bring all the food,” Jo insisted. “You shouldn’t have to cook for your own party.”

  “Or we could meet at my house,” Regina suggested happily. “Now that Gabe and his family have painted all the rooms and redone the floors, it’s ready for company!”

  “We could have a progressive dinner!” Molly blurted. In her excitement, her white kapp shifted, revealing hair as short as her twin’s. Amish women were forbidden to cut their hair, but when Marietta had lost her long brown tresses during her chemo, Molly had defied the Ordnung and shaved her head in support of her sister. “We could start at our place with appetizers, and then head down the road to Lydianne’s for the main course—”

  “Because she’s got a kitchen that’s not stacked with boxes of bagged noodles!” Marietta put in with a laugh.

  “—and we could do dessert at Regina’s place,” Molly finished. “We could be eating and laughing and talking all day long next Sunday! What a great plan!”

  Lydianne smiled gratefully at her friends. With these four young women for company—even if Regina was soon getting married—she knew she could get through anything.

  Chapter Four

  As Jeremiah drove his rig toward Books on Bates Monday afternoon, he wondered if his perfectly logical reasons for being there didn’t look like flimsy, ill-disguised excuses for catching a glimpse of Lydianne. He’d called ahead to tell Justin Yutzy, the Mennonite storekeeper, that he’d be stopping by to pick up the school’s textbooks, yet he wondered if Morning Star’s new teacher wasn’t astute enough to realize that his timing wasn’t a coincidence. After all, he could’ve stopped by the store at any time to fetch those books.

  When he saw Lydianne’s horse and buggy at the bookstore’s hitching rail, Jeremiah felt like a schoolboy spying on a girl he had a crush on. Shaking his head at such silliness, he pulled in and parked. He was the bishop, after all—and the member of the school board who’d long ago agreed to be in charge of obtaining the new textbooks. Besides, if Lydianne figured out that he wanted to spend time with her, was that such a bad thing?

  At least Detweiler won’t be here.

  As he approached the door, Jeremiah again wondered why he felt such rivalry building between himself and the widowed woodworker. Or was he actually heeding his mother’s advice and seeking out the company of an attractive young woman?

  When the brass bell above the door seemed loud enough to wake the dead, he cringed—and then he spotted her over the tops of the bookshelves. Lydianne was back in the corner where classroom supplies were displayed. To his relief, she seemed so engrossed in choosing materials that she hadn’t even looked up when the bell jangled.

  Jeremiah paused, not wanting to break the store’s serene silence. In the light from the back window, Lydianne’s face took on the soft glow of a golden angel as she focused on a folded pasteboard banner. It was the same green chart with white lines and cursive alphabet letters that had been displayed above every school’s blackboard for as long as he could remember, yet she appeared to be on a sacred mission—choosing what her students would look at every day as they practiced their penmanship.

  Justin stepped out of the workroom behind the checkout counter with a large box. “Gut morning, Jeremiah!” he called out. “Saw you pull up, and I bet you’ve come for your schoolbooks. I’ve got a few more boxes to bring out—we appreciate your large order!”

  “Need any help with them?” Jeremiah asked, turning toward the storekeeper so Lydianne wouldn’t catch him gazing at her.

  “Nah, I’ve got the rest of them on a cart, so we can wheel them out to your rig. You want to check them over before we load them?”

  “I’d like to see them—if I may,” Lydianne piped up from the back of the store.

  When Jeremiah turned, her smile dazzled him. “Teacher Lydianne, it’s gut to see you,” he said, hoping he sounded surprised. “Of course, you can look at our new books. Take a copy of each text home for your own reference, if you’d like. We have plenty.”

  As she wheeled her shopping cart to the checkout counter, Jeremiah saw that she’d filled it with a number of colorful educational posters, packages of construction paper, and other practical classroom materials.

  Justin wheeled his large cart out in front of the counter, smiling at the young woman. “It’s always exciting to start a school year with fresh books and supplies, ain’t so?” he remarked. “I got your books from the same publisher you’ve used before, Jeremiah, and these are the most recent editions. Newer illustrations, but the text is pretty much the same.”

  Jeremiah glanced at Lydianne. “Maybe I should’ve consulted with you before we ordered these,” he said as they watched Justin pop the boxes open with his pocketknife. “I just assumed—but maybe I shouldn’t have—”

  “It’s not as though spelling words or addition facts or the multiplication tables have changed,” she pointed out with a lighthearted shrug. “By choosing the school’s texts, you’ve saved me a lot of decisions, truth be told.”

  “Jah,” Justin agreed. “Basic book learning is the same as when our parents and grandparents were kids—but I’m happy to have a computer helping me with ordering and inventory these days.”

  Jeremiah was only vaguely aware of the storekeeper’s remarks. Lydianne’s smile had made him extremely aware of how attractive she was—and her accepting, practical viewpoint pleased him, too. “Well, I—I’m sure the school’s library could use some new titles, so how about if you choose those?” he asked.

  She looked up from the math book she was thumbing through. “I’d be happy to, Bishop,” she said, inhaling deeply. “Oh, but there’s something magical about the smell of new books—and about opening one for the very first time, don’t you think?”

  Jeremiah blinked, totally unable to think when she focused on him. Why had he never noticed the lighter flecks in Lydianne’s big blue eyes, which made them seem to twinkle at him?

  “Magical,” he repeated. Magic wasn’t something Plain folks put any store in, but he sensed that this woman could effortlessly make him believe in just about anything.

  “Here’s the student workbooks that go along with the reading and math texts,” Justin remarked as he opened the final box. “And the teacher editions are in here, as well. I think everything’s accounted for, Jeremiah. Shall I print out your receipt?”

  Jeremiah wasn’t at all sure what the shopkeeper had asked, but he nodded anyway. “That’ll be fine. And when Miss Christner finishes her shopping today, you’re to bill her materials to the school board, as well.”

  “Will do.” When Justin tapped a few keys on his computer, the printer started humming. “I’ll wheel these out to your rig now.”

  Jeremiah hoped his smile didn’
t appear as lopsided and goofy as it felt. “I’ll help Justin with the loading while you continue your shopping,” he suggested. “I’m driving the books out to the schoolhouse. Shall I, um, wait until you’re finished and take your supplies, as well?” he stammered, gesturing toward her shopping cart. “Or would you like to come along and show me where you want your books?”

  Why did he almost feel as though he was asking her for a date?

  “Who am I to refuse when somebody else is willing to do the heavy lifting?” she asked lightly. “Won’t take me but a moment to finish here—only a few other items I’d like to choose now, until I see how much more wall space I have. Go on ahead, if you want, and I’ll be there shortly.”

  His heart thumped happily in his chest. He followed Justin out to the parking lot before he said anything that sounded silly or adolescent, wondering why a simple trip to the schoolhouse suddenly felt like a grand adventure . . . time alone with Lydianne.

  “Nice gal you’ve hired,” Justin remarked as he stacked the boxes in Jeremiah’s rig. “Something to be said for a teacher who’s had a little life experience teaching your kids, rather than having one of the girls who’s just come up through the eight grades.”

  “We were all pleased—and a bit surprised—when Lydianne expressed an interest in the position.” When Justin climbed into the rig, Jeremiah handed up the remaining boxes. “She’s been a bookkeeper at the Flauds’ factory, you know, and she’s one of the managers out at The Marketplace, too.”

  “Now there’s an enterprise we’re all happy to see succeeding,” Justin put in. “That place is so busy on Saturdays, I’m wondering if I might rent a small space to sell some of our inspirational paintings and those wall plaques with the faith-and-family sayings on them.”

  “Lydianne can answer that question about space availability for you,” he said as the last box went into place. As Justin stepped down to the pavement, Jeremiah extended his hand. “Denki for getting our books so quickly. It’s always a pleasure doing business with you.”