First Light in Morning Star Page 7

  “And then we’ll give Mr. Shetler the bill for what his dog ruined,” Molly stated sternly. “I’ve mentioned these incidents to Bishop Jeremiah, but he’s asked us to be patient—thanking us because Pete is so much more productive and headed in a more positive direction nowadays.”

  Lydianne, Regina, and Jo nodded sympathetically. The buggy rolled down the road for several moments with only the clip-clop of the horse punctuating their silence.

  “How about if we chalk it up to doing Pete a favor—and feeding him—and we look forward to the rest of our dinner?” Regina asked. “It’s only eleven-thirty, so we still have the rest of the day together.”

  “And denki for those wrapped pickles and your mamm’s special pimiento cheese ball and liverwurst spread,” Jo said to the twins. “You got our celebration off to a fine start.”

  As they passed the next farmstead, Lydianne tried not to be obvious about gazing around the yard. Her whole body thrummed at the sight of Ella riding a miniature pony all by herself. Her dat stood back a ways, watching her carefully, but the little blonde appeared quite confident about guiding her mount as she circled the front yard.

  “Would you look at that!” Molly crowed. “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Ella’s practicing her horsemanship so she can ride to school one of these days.”

  Both of the Helfing twins stuck their arms out of the rig’s windows and waved. Lydianne’s heart took off at a trot, hoping the little horse wouldn’t be spooked. When Ella waved back, she felt a pride unlike any she’d ever known.

  “Ella’s such sweet little girl—and sharp as a tack,” Jo remarked over her shoulder. “It’ll be a joy to have her in your classroom, Lydianne.”

  “Jah, I think so, too,” Lydianne replied carefully. “I don’t recall being nearly so brave or so gut at sitting a pony when I was only six.”

  “Who knows? She’s always been quiet, but once she spends her days around other kids, she might prove to be a handful,” Molly said with a chuckle. “I really came out of my shell when I started school, as I recall.”

  “Puh!” Marietta teased. “You never had a shell, sister. I’ve always been the shy, quiet, well-behaved twin. Everyone will tell you so!”

  As they all laughed, Lydianne’s gaze lingered on the little girl—her little girl—and she reminded herself yet again that it was going to be tricky not to show favoritism to Ella Nissley. A teacher was to treat all of her students as though they were special and capable—important members of her class, and worthy of her praise and encouragement.

  A few minutes later they turned onto the road that led to Lydianne’s place. Marietta held the brownie pan to keep it from sliding across the seat when the rig rounded the corner, while Molly held the lid on Jo’s blue roaster.

  “Your house always looks nice and cool in the shade of those big old trees,” Regina remarked from the front seat. She leaned forward, studying something intently. “Isn’t that Bishop Jeremiah’s horse at the hitching rail? No one else I know rides a dapple-gray Percheron.”

  Lydianne’s head snapped up. She hoped her friends wouldn’t notice that her cheeks were catching fire as she gazed through the buggy’s windshield from the back seat.

  Why would the bishop be at my house? He surely doesn’t ’t intend to talk about school business on a Sunday . . .

  Jo chuckled knowingly. “It is a visiting Sunday,” she pointed out as she drove up the lane. “So maybe he’s come to pay our Lydianne a visit!”

  “But we’re having a maidel’s day—and we’ve already been interrupted once,” Lydianne protested. “Quick—how can we politely move him along, so we girls can enjoy our chicken dinner?”

  Jo looked over her shoulder with a short laugh. “That’ll be your call, Lydianne. Who am I to tell the bishop he’s not welcome?”

  Chapter Seven

  When Jeremiah spotted the approaching double rig—with Jo Fussner and Regina Miller gawking at him from its front seat—he kicked himself. When he’d hinted to Mamm at breakfast that he might visit Lydianne rather than going to Jude’s place for Sunday dinner, she’d immediately packed a fresh loaf of bread and some of the casserole she was taking to his brother’s place, for him to share. Despite his insistence that this was only a visit, Mamm was acting as if he was initiating a courtship. There’d been no acceptable way to back out—not that he’d really wanted to.

  But he hadn’t counted on the five maidels spending the day together.

  “What a nice surprise, Bishop!” Jo called out as she parked the buggy.

  “Jah, you’re just in time to join us for dinner,” Regina chimed in playfully. “We’re celebrating Lydianne’s and my last day at the Flaud factory.”

  The Helfing twins emerged from the back of the rig with a big roaster and other pans of food in their hands—and expectant expressions on their faces. Lydianne’s flustered glance told him that he’d caught her off guard. Jeremiah’s thoughts spun into overdrive, searching for a believable reason for his showing up unannounced . . .

  “And aren’t you the perfect guest, bringing some food to contribute?” Jo asked breezily. She leaned over the small pan he was holding and inhaled appreciatively. “Smells like Margaret’s cheesy potato and ham casserole—one of my favorites!”

  “How about if the rest of us go inside and set things on the table so you and Lydianne can have a moment alone?” Molly asked playfully. The contents of the blue roaster she was carrying toward the door smelled heavenly.

  “Jah, take your time, Bishop,” Marietta chimed in, following her twin with a lidded pan and a container of ice cream. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  Jeremiah prayed his response would sound believable. “Truth be told, I was hoping to catch all of you together so we could talk about some upcoming events at The Marketplace.”

  Regina’s auburn eyebrows shot up. “How’d you know about our progressive dinner?”

  “A little bird told me,” he fibbed quickly.

  None of the maidels looked totally convinced, but they stepped onto the porch and went inside. Lydianne remained at the bottom of the steps with him, appearing flushed and ferhoodled. “Well, Jeremiah, it’s gut to see you even though I wasn’t expecting—”

  “I didn’t mean to intrude,” he murmured. Her blue eyes were wide, and her pink cheeks told him he’d probably overstepped, yet at that moment her parted lips looked so very kissable—

  And where did that thought come from? You haven’t considered kissing anyone for—well, more than three years.

  Jeremiah exhaled, hoping to clear his mind of such thoughts before he said or did anything that would make this situation even more awkward.

  “—but jah, we’re happy to have you join us for dinner,” Lydianne continued in a rush. “Really, we are. I’m glad you’re here, Jeremiah.”

  His heart thumped crazily. She was being a good sport about this unplanned encounter. He couldn’t recall when she’d ever spoken to him without addressing him as the bishop, and today she’d left off his title. He found that encouraging . . . and rather intimate. “Um, maybe we should go in, so the food won’t get cold.”

  Nodding, Lydianne preceded him into the house. He’d been to her place shortly after she’d moved to Morning Star, and for the one time she’d hosted church—because afterward the congregation had agreed that her rental house was too small to accommodate pew benches comfortably. The cozy front room, set off with colorful crocheted afghans, and the pale coral kitchen walls with their white cabinets felt homier than he recalled.

  The table was set for six. A platter of chicken and bowls of vegetables were arranged in the center of it, along with the bread and casserole his mamm had sent along. The other maidels stopped chatting as he entered the kitchen behind Lydianne. Four expectant smiles greeted them.

  “Have a seat, Bishop,” Jo said, gesturing toward the chair at the head of the table. “We’re eager to hear what you have to say about The Marketplace.”

  It didn’t escape Jeremiah that the
other young women had chosen their chairs so that Lydianne would be sitting to his left . . . where a wife would be. He set that thought aside as he sat down and bowed his head for a silent grace.

  Lord, I’m on a tightrope here, and I’ll be grateful for Your guidance. I’m thankful to be having such a nice meal, even if these gals have seen right through my excuse for coming this morning.

  When he cleared his throat, everyone looked up and began passing the food. “It’s very gracious of you to let me share this fabulous meal uninvited,” he said as he helped himself to two pieces of beautifully roasted chicken.

  “Oh, but it’s a treat to have you here, Bishop Jeremiah,” Regina teased as she playfully glanced from him to Lydianne.

  He took some of the carrots, onions, celery, and potatoes that had been roasted along with the chicken. It was time to head off any further hints of romance between him and the district’s new teacher—who was also the financial manager of The Marketplace.

  “Is there anything I can do to help you prepare for the two upcoming family reunions that will be held at The Marketplace?” he asked in a businesslike tone. “Even with all the tables and chairs the Flauds are providing, and Jo’s kitchen facilities, it’ll be quite an undertaking to host the Shetler family event in the middle of September and then accommodate the Flauds a couple of weeks later.”

  As though relieved to have a safe topic of conversation, Lydianne spoke right up. “We’ve already received deposits from both families—and, in fact, they’ve paid the full amount rather than waiting until later to pay the balance,” she added as she accepted the platter of chicken and vegetables from him. “Delores and your mamm have already said their families will be bringing all the food—”

  “And they’ve agreed to provide the additional chairs and the large folding tables they’ll be needing for the food, as well,” Jo put in. “I’ve suggested they can use the coffee stand for their beverages. Your mother and Delores have assured me that the women will leave my kitchen and the central serving area even cleaner than when they arrive.”

  “Jah, they already know they’re responsible for taking home any leftover food and disposing of their trash, too,” Regina said with a nod. “It’s all spelled out on our rental agreement form.”

  “And the church will receive the same ten percent commission from the proceeds that our shopkeepers kick in from their sales,” Lydianne added as she placed a large helping of vegetables on her plate. “We’re really glad Martha Maude suggested that we host reunions and parties because they’ll make us some easy money. We’ll earn enough to pay the utility bills for the next several months, as well as to set aside funds for any building maintenance we might need.”

  Jeremiah nodded, swallowing a mouthful of delectable roasted carrots and celery. The silence around the table as they began to eat suggested that the maidels were finished discussing reunions—and looking to him for further conversation. The grins they tried to hide as they chewed their food told him they weren’t going to let him off the hook, either.

  “Sounds like you ladies have everything under control,” he said after too many moments had gone by. “Not that I doubted your ability to handle these reunions, of course.”

  “Of course,” Jo echoed. She gazed purposefully at the corner space between him and Lydianne, as though she wondered if they were holding hands under the table.

  Jeremiah quickly brought his napkin to his mouth, so his left hand was fully visible. When Lydianne also realized what her friend was looking at, she grabbed the bread basket with both hands and passed it to Marietta.

  “So how are things coming at the new schoolhouse?” Regina asked sweetly. “Now that you’re not staining furniture, Lydianne, I bet you’ll be over there getting the classroom set up, ain’t so?”

  “Oh, jah, I’ve picked up all manner of posters and supplies at the bookstore—and the textbooks are already there,” Lydianne replied quickly. “I’ll spend most of this week figuring out where I want things to go.”

  Jeremiah wondered if Regina’s question was intended to inform him of Lydianne’s schedule, because the maidels had surely already heard what she planned to do in the coming week. Did this mean they might watch to see if he joined her at the schoolhouse?

  He sighed to himself. Even though he’d received some worthwhile information about the family reunions, he sensed Lydianne’s friends intended to grill him for as long as he stayed—and then ply her with their curious questions after he left. Although Jeremiah could’ve enjoyed a second plateful of the wonderful food, he excused himself when he’d finished the first one.

  “Denki again for letting me join you,” he said as he rose from his chair. “I’ll let you ladies continue your celebration. It’s gut to hear that our investment in The Marketplace building and property is paying off even better than we’d anticipated.”

  “Don’t forget your mamm’s casserole dish,” Jo piped up.

  “And thank her for the bread, too!” Regina added with a mischievous grin. “It was gut to see you today, Bishop!”

  As Jeremiah went outside and mounted his gelding, he was well aware that he hadn’t fooled a soul with his trumped-up story. He felt bad that Lydianne would have to endure her friends’ questions—yet he was glad he’d come over. Having her seated to his left during the meal, where Priscilla had sat for so many happy years of their marriage, had given him an unexpected sense of fulfillment. He found himself hoping he’d enjoy other, more private meals in Lydianne’s cozy kitchen as time went by.

  Maybe Mamm’s right. Maybe I need to make my interest and intentions known—before somebody else does.

  * * *

  “Do tell, Lydianne!” Regina teased as they cleared the food from the table. “A blind woman could see that something’s perking between you and Bishop Jeremiah.”

  “Jah, the temperature in this kitchen rose twenty degrees when you two sat down next to each other,” Molly put in.

  Lydianne waved them off. “You girls are so full of baloney—”

  “Oh, I think not!” Jo joined in, slipping her arm around Lydianne’s shoulders. “But honestly, how could you possibly do any better than Jeremiah Shetler? He’s tall and strong and gut-looking—not to mention how well he does with his farming.”

  “You couldn’t find a kinder, gentler man, either,” Marietta insisted as she put the leftover chicken and vegetables into a lidded container.

  Lydianne searched desperately for the words that would set her friends straight. For years they’d all been close friends who’d agreed that they got along perfectly fine without husbands, yet now that Regina was engaged, their group dynamic had shifted. “If that’s your story, let’s talk about how cozy you twins and Pete seem to be—”

  “Cozy is nothing, considering that I heard Margaret intends to move out, so you and Jeremiah can feather your nest in that big white house without her.”

  Lydianne felt suddenly dizzy. She looked Jo straight in the eye. “Who told you that?” she rasped.

  Giving her shoulder a final squeeze, Jo set about wiping the table with a dishcloth. “Martha Maude told Mamm, and Mamm mentioned it to me the other day,” she replied with a triumphant shrug. “Who am I to question those sources?”

  “And we all know that Margaret wouldn’t want just anybody marrying her son,” Molly put in with a nod. “Remember how she fussed at Jude when he announced he was courting Leah Otto? And how she moved out of Jude’s place because she wanted no part of being in that house after he married her?”

  Lydianne inhaled deeply, trying to regain her emotional balance. Did everyone in the church district believe she and Jeremiah were sweet on each other?

  “Jah, and Margaret wouldn’t have sent over that casserole and bread today if she weren’t trying to help her son get your attention,” Regina pointed out. “No matter what you say, Lydianne, folks have noticed how twinkly you both look when you’re in the same room together.”

  Twinkly? Lydianne made a point of picking up Marie
tta’s pan of brownies and heading for the door. “You girls have it all wrong, and so does everyone else,” she insisted. “I have no intention of marrying the bishop—or any other man, for that matter. I love this home, I love my life, and I’m going to pour my heart and soul into being the best teacher Morning Star’s ever had. So let’s go to Regina’s place for brownies and ice cream, shall we?”

  Chapter Eight

  On Wednesday afternoon, Lydianne gazed around her classroom with a heady sense of excitement. She’d stashed the extra desks downstairs in the storage area, behind the pegged wall where the scholars would hang their coats. Textbooks of the appropriate grade levels sat on the desks in front of her, along with cheerful name placards she’d made for each of her scholars. Colorful posters and instructional materials were arranged on the walls and above the whiteboard. Near the windows, where the yellow curtains Martha Maude had sewn fluttered crisply in the breeze, sturdy tables provided room for the first two class projects she was planning. She’d also cleaned the restroom building, which sat behind the schoolhouse.

  As she stood at her desk, Lydianne couldn’t stop smiling. The new classroom was ready for her eight students, and she was eager to see their bright smiles and hear their voices filling the fresh, welcoming space. Some of her favorite memories came from her years in school, and now it was her turn to create a caring, vibrant environment for the children she would nurture each day. In a week and a half, Lydianne would be living her new dream—and secretly playing a vital part in her daughter’s upbringing and education.

  Thank You, Lord, for fresh starts and answered prayers. Help me to use these gifts in the way You intended.

  She sat down and slipped a spelling book from the row of texts arranged on the left edge of her desk. Except for being a new copy, it was the same book she’d used as a seventh grader, so Lydianne felt she was visiting an old friend as she opened it to the first lesson. She’d learned her weekly spelling lists by copying each word on notebook paper, writing its definition, and then using it in a sentence—and that was the method she would use with her four older students.