First Light in Morning Star Page 6

  Deacon Saul laughed. “Jah, and it might relieve the tedium of the chit-chat after the reunion meals,” he teased. “With some folks who come, you can run out of things to visit about after a while.”

  “Some of them talk about the very same aches and pains from one year to the next,” Reuben Detweiler remarked with a chuckle. “I’m all for offering a little entertainment at both of those reunions. We practice every week, so we might as well share the ability the Gut Lord has given us, ain’t so?”

  “That’s the spirit!” Jeremiah said, nodding at his friends. “Seems to me we have a special gift to offer, thanks to Gabe’s ability to teach and direct us. It’s also a bonus that such a gut and positive activity has come from the musical secret Gabe kept for so many years, and for which he served out his bann,” he added with a smile for the younger man. “After all, if Gabe hadn’t confessed to taking guitar lessons and slipping in to play the Methodist church’s piano, we wouldn’t be learning so much more about music from him.”

  Gabe smiled gratefully. “It’s settled then. I think we’ll be a big hit!” he remarked as he collected the songbooks. “Margaret’s been kind enough to bring us more lemonade, and after all our singing, I’m ready for a big glassful.”

  “I’ll pour!” Glenn said as he rose from his porch chair. “I ran across a really gut deal this week, and I’m excited about it.”

  All the men smiled encouragingly at the carpenter as they held out their glasses. “How’s that, Glenn?” Jeremiah asked as he accepted a refill. “We’re all happy that you’ve found something that makes you happy.”

  Glenn’s dark beard parted with his wide smile. “A friend of mine who builds a lot of decks had a customer cancel, and he can’t return the pricey composite boards that’re already cut to size,” he began. “I snapped up a bunch of the shorter boards, and I’ve been making picnic tables for the new schoolhouse! They’ll pop apart so we can store them in the winter, and they’ll stand up to the summer sun and rain without any maintenance. I think Teacher Lydianne’s going to be tickled that she and the kids can eat their lunches outside when the weather’s nice.”

  “What a great idea!” Saul exclaimed. “I think the district should reimburse you for those materials. That composite decking isn’t cheap.”

  “I bet you folks that run shops at The Marketplace will be using them for your lunch breaks, too,” Matthias Wagler put in as Glenn refilled his glass.

  Gabe smiled. “That’s another great idea—especially when we get into cooler fall weather,” he said. “Awfully nice of you to put your time into such a project, Glenn.”

  Jeremiah hoped his expression didn’t betray his mixed feelings about Detweiler’s generous offering to the schoolhouse grounds. He suddenly wished he had the talent for crafting something useful and enjoyable, because he wanted to see the look of surprised gratitude on Lydianne’s face when he gave it to her.

  But he was a farmer, not a carpenter. His building skills enabled him to make basic repairs to barn stalls, fences, and equipment, but he lacked the ability to create anything of true beauty. A lot of woodworkers made their fiancées cedar-lined hope chests or other pieces of fine furniture, but he’d resorted to giving Priscilla a clock—which still sat on the dresser upstairs. She had treasured it, and Jeremiah remembered her lovingly each and every time he looked at it.

  Why are you thinking about engagement gifts? Why can’t you be pleased that Glenn is so excited about his surprise—which is more for the schoolhouse than for Lydianne, after all?

  Despite his prayers and best intentions, Jeremiah sat out on the porch in the darkness long after his friends had gone home. What might he give to the district’s new teacher—or do for her—that would convince Lydianne to spend time with him rather than with Detweiler?

  Chapter Six

  “Now this is the way to spend a visiting Sunday!” Regina crowed from the back seat of Jo’s family-sized buggy.

  “Jah, we should quit our jobs more often and have Jo drive us around town for our meals,” Lydianne put in with a laugh. She slung her arm around Jo and hugged her as the double rig rolled down the road toward the Helfing place. “This progressive dinner was a fine idea, and it’s very sweet of you to do some of the cooking and the driving for us today.”

  Jo shrugged good-naturedly. “It was easy enough to put together a roasted chicken dinner—I baked two birds and left one for Mamm,” she added as she guided the horse onto the next country lane. “It’ll be fun to see what Molly and Marietta came up with for appetizers and dessert so you girls didn’t have to cook. I wish we’d thought about doing progressive dinners sooner! We’ll have a great time today, just us girls.”

  Lydianne gazed down the road as the Helfing place came into view. It was a glorious August day, cooler because a front had passed through in the night. She was looking forward to celebrating with her close friends without other folks in the congregation making a big fuss about her and Regina leaving the Flauds’ factory—and without feeling Bishop Jeremiah’s gaze on her.

  The horse had just entered the twins’ hard-packed dirt driveway when a large golden retriever shot out from behind one of the two dawdi hauses that sat slightly behind the main house. His raucous barking shattered the Sunday morning peace.

  Molly stepped out of the white two-story house, scowling. “Riley!” she scolded. “Be quiet! Go home!”

  As the big dog began to circle her horse and rig, still barking, Jo slowed down. “Makes you wonder if the girls put up with this ruckus every time somebody comes over,” she murmured to Lydianne. “It’s a gut thing Pete and his dog aren’t living at our place!”

  “Drusilla wouldn’t stand for all this noise,” Lydianne agreed with a laugh.

  By the time the buggy reached the shady rear side of the house where the Helfings’ small noodle factory sat, Molly had come outside to grab the big dog’s collar. “You girls can go on inside, and I’ll be right there. Back you go, you big mutt,” she said as she turned him away from the buggy.

  “I’ll grab your roaster, Jo,” Regina called out from the back seat. “You can hold the door for me.”

  Lydianne stayed behind to unhitch the horse and lead it to the nearby pasture. She’d always liked the Helfing place, because its lush green yard was shaded by a lot of large trees. She couldn’t help noticing that the flower beds the twins’ mamm had always tended appeared trampled—although the lawn was neatly mowed, and the house and outbuildings all boasted a fresh coat of white paint. When she reached the back stoop, Molly was returning from putting Riley into the dawdi haus farthest away from them.

  “I guess you know our mamm’s rolling in her grave because that dog has been napping in her flowers,” she said with a shake of her head. “The other day I caught him digging in one of the beds, and lo and behold he pulled out a bone he’d buried. Does no gut to threaten Pete about it, because he just laughs it off. Says dogs will be dogs.”

  “Aw, come on, Molly,” Pete called through an open dawdi haus window. “You know you love Riley, deep down.”

  Molly rolled her eyes as her twin sister opened the door to let them in. “We have to watch what we say when the windows are open,” she murmured. “The bishop has paid Pete’s rent through the end of September, so we’ll see what the winter brings. When Marietta complained about Riley being such a terror, Jeremiah gave us a bonus rent check for putting up with him.”

  Marietta laughed as she welcomed Lydianne with a hug. “Jah, the bishop thinks we’re helping his nephew stay on the straight and narrow,” she put in. “I have to say it’s been nice having Pete mow the grass, though—and he recently painted all of our buildings, too.”

  Lydianne chuckled—and let out a gasp. A big hand-lettered banner was stretched across the top of the mudroom wall, with CONGRATULATIONS, REGINA AND LYDIANNE written in bold colors. Balloons were fastened at either end of it, too.

  “I feel like I’ve walked into a birthday party!” Lydianne said. “You girls have really gone all o
ut for us!”

  Molly grinned. “Well, it is a birth of sorts, what with both of you going in new directions,” she pointed out.

  “And it was an excuse to get out our marker sets and color!” Marietta added. Her face, still very thin after her cancer treatments, brightened. “It was also incentive for us to deep clean the kitchen and set this week’s noodle orders out in the factory, too, so it looks like we keep a normal house.”

  “Ever since we’ve been selling at The Marketplace,” Molly explained, “we’ve been piling big boxes of bagged noodles wherever we had room for them. Having you girls over for our progressive dinner is a special occasion!”

  As they entered the kitchen, Jo was placing her blue graniteware roasting pan in the oven to keep the main course warm for later. Regina was filling the water glasses at the places around the kitchen table, which was covered with a pretty oilcloth in a summer floral pattern that complemented the soft yellow walls. Several plates and bowls filled the center of the table, which was set for five.

  “This is a feast!” Lydianne said as she chose a seat. “We could stay here all day eating this stuff you twins have made for us.”

  Molly waved her off as the rest of them sat down. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s food Marietta was hungry for—which means her appetite is finally returning.”

  “Jah, it’s been a long while since we made Mamm’s pimiento cheese ball and her liverwurst spread,” Marietta remarked. “Otherwise, wrapping some pickle spears in thin-sliced ham, putting out some crackers, and dumping ranch-flavored tortilla chips into a bowl alongside some salsa was no big deal. Help yourselves!”

  Lydianne grabbed the bowl of chips while her friends all chose the foods closest to their plates. As they passed the appetizers around the table, the kitchen was filled with companionable silence.

  “Well, we’ve filled you in on our renter,” Molly said in a low voice. “How are things going at your place, Jo, with the Wengerds being in your dawdi haus on Friday nights?”

  Jo chuckled as she spread a thick layer of pimiento cheese on a cracker. “You’ll never get my mamm to admit this, but I think she really likes having Nelson and Michael to cook for—and they’re staying a lot of Saturday nights that fall before visiting Sundays, as well,” she added. “They say that after their busy Saturdays selling flowers at The Marketplace—or helping with the produce auctions—they aren’t fired up about making the drive back to Queen City in the evening.”

  “Could be they like the meals you ladies are cooking for them,” Regina remarked before taking a big bite of a wrapped pickle spear. “And if Nelson’s wife passed on a while back, maybe they enjoy your company as much as the food.”

  “And how about you, Jo?” Molly asked. “Michael’s a really nice guy—”

  “And he’s got those dreamy blue-gray eyes,” Marietta put in with a sigh.

  “—and he’s gut about helping without being asked,” her sister continued with a hint of a grin. “Wouldn’t surprise me if you two came to be more than just friends—”

  “But that will never happen!” Jo blurted. She quickly shoved a corn chip heaped with liverwurst spread into her mouth, as though this would keep her from having to say anything further.

  Lydianne noticed the pinkness of Jo’s cheeks and the way she was blinking as she looked away. Knowing how awkward it felt when folks assumed there was a romance going on when there wasn’t, she considered her words carefully. “Why do you say that?” she asked softly. “Michael would be very blessed if an energetic, well-organized, compassionate, young woman like you took an interest in him.”

  As everyone else around the table nodded, Jo shook her head. “Let’s be honest,” she muttered. “It’s no secret that I’m too tall and big boned and hefty, just like Dat was. Mamm’s always telling me I’m my father made over, and she’s right. What fellow wants a woman with a face and a body like Big Joe Fussner’s?”

  Stunned at her friend’s blunt self-assessment, Lydianne reached over to grasp Jo’s wrist. “Oh, but that’s not true—”

  “Phooey on that!” Regina insisted from across the table. “Let’s not forget that your mamm, bless her heart, tends to see things in a negative light—”

  “Not that there’s anything negative about you or your looks, Jo!” Marietta protested. “Why, you’re the most wonderful—”

  A loud pounding on the front door made them all sit up and look toward the front room. “Hey, what smells so gut in there?” Pete called out. “Do you suppose a poor, lonely, hungry guy might come in for some company and food on this visiting Sunday?”

  Lydianne and her friends exchanged wary glances around the table.

  “It’s your house, so it’s your call,” Regina whispered as she gazed at the twins.

  “Jah, but this is supposed to be a party just for us girls,” Marietta protested.

  Jo, who seemed glad for the interruption, took a wrapped pickle spear. “He is all by himself,” she pointed out, “and we have more than we’ll eat before we move on to Lydianne’s place—”

  Molly rolled her eyes, turning toward the door. “Come on in, Pete,” she said loudly. “But Riley has to stay outside!”

  Pete entered the kitchen with a confident grin as he took in the young women gathered around the table. “Looks like quite a hen party you’re having here,” he teased as he pulled a spare chair to the head of the table. “You no doubt need me here to establish some proper order, jah?”

  Absolute silence filled the kitchen.

  Molly lifted an eyebrow at him. “If you’ve interrupted our celebration with that attitude, Mr. Shetler, you may as well head back outside with your dog.”

  Rolling his eyes playfully, Pete studied the platters of food in the center of the table. “Come on now, Moll, this is me you’re talking to,” he cajoled her. “Didn’t I mow the grass yesterday? And didn’t I paint your barns and the chicken house last week—without you asking me? Surely, I’m gut for a plateful of these munchies,” he suggested as he looked around the kitchen. “And whatever you’re having for your main meal smells fabulous, too.”

  Marietta rose to fetch him a plate from the cupboard. “And didn’t we pay you for your painting work and thank you profusely for doing it?” she shot back. “Sometimes I think your mamm should’ve named you Pest instead of Pete.”

  Lydianne exchanged quick glances with Regina and Jo, who seemed as surprised as she was about the nature of the conversation the Helfing sisters were having with their renter. Although their words could’ve been construed as confrontational, their voices conveyed a completely different picture. She was about to remark on how cozy the twins were sounding when a wail similar to a siren started up near the open kitchen window.

  “Riley—quiet!” Pete ordered as he heaped tortilla chips on his plate.

  Lydianne stuffed a cheese-covered cracker into her mouth to keep from laughing, although the dog’s howling became so loud and insistent that when Jo opened her mouth to make conversation, she gave up.

  “Riley!” Pete cried out as he helped himself to a huge serving of the liverwurst spread. “Shut up!”

  Molly’s resigned sigh suggested that this wasn’t the first time the golden had interrupted whatever she and Marietta were doing. “I’ll go tell him what’s what!” she muttered as she rose from the table.

  Pete accepted the plate holding the pimiento cheese ball from Lydianne with a gracious smile. “So, how’s life for you and Regina now that you’re not at the furniture factory?”

  Regina’s face lit up. “I’ll adjust pretty quickly to not working with that noisy exhaust fan and all those fumes—”

  Molly’s shriek from the mudroom made them all turn around as Riley burst through the door and shot past her. Before anyone could blink, the excited dog plopped his front paws on the table, snatched the cheese ball from its plate, and escaped to the other end of the kitchen.

  “Bad dog! Bad dog!” Molly said sternly as she followed him. “Riley, sit!”

&
nbsp; Riley swallowed the cheese ball in one big gulp. Then he sat down obediently, grinning at her with a yellow-smeared tongue lolling from his mouth.

  “I really am sorry, girls,” Pete said around his mouthful of food. “I wanted to try some of that cheese ball, too.”

  Lydianne could read the impatience in her friends’ faces, so she wasn’t surprised when Jo rose from her chair. “How about if we leave you the rest of these appetizers, Pete, and we’ll move along to the next stop on our progressive dinner?” she asked, glancing at the other maidels for their answers.

  “Let’s do it,” Marietta muttered. “I’ll grab the brownies—”

  “I’ll fetch the roaster from the oven,” Jo put in as she picked up her hot pads.

  “I’ll bring the ice cream from the freezer,” Molly added as they all headed for the door. She turned to Pete, who looked befuddled as he sat alone at the kitchen table. “And meanwhile, if Riley gets sick from eating all that cheese, it’s your job to clean it up, Mr. Shetler. Enjoy the rest of your day. We certainly intend to!”

  The five of them climbed into the double buggy, with Regina up front beside Jo and the rest of them in the back with the food. Once they were headed toward the road, Molly shook her head. “I’m really sorry our party got derailed. I should’ve known better than to let Pete—or Riley—spoil the time we’d said was just for us girls.”

  Lydianne smiled. “You were only being nice, sharing what we were eating.”

  “Jah, but we always fall for Pete’s line about being lonely and hungry,” Marietta explained dolefully, “and then we kick ourselves. He’s a nice guy at heart—”

  “But he really needs to grow up,” Molly remarked crossly. “We told him when he came here as a renter that we cannot allow Riley inside the noodle factory, and twice he’s slipped in the door as we were coming out from a morning’s work.”

  “We had to sanitize everything before we could continue with the fresh noodles we’d left on the tables to dry,” her sister said. “If that dog ever jumps up on a table to grab noodles, we’ll lose the entire batch—not to mention the time and ingredients that went into them.”