First Light in Morning Star Read online

  As she jotted notes in her planning book, Lydianne savored the peacefulness that surrounded the schoolhouse. Except for Saturdays, when The Marketplace attracted hundreds of shoppers, the property was vacant—which made it the perfect place for her scholars to learn. For morning and afternoon recess, bins of new balls, bats, jump ropes, and other playground equipment awaited them downstairs. They would play outside on the new ball field, or on the swings and seesaws, or at the volleyball net.

  In her mind, Lydianne could already hear the girls’ sing-song chant of jump rope rhymes, and the crack of a bat followed by the boys’ jubilant cries as they encouraged a batter to run the bases.

  The clatter of an approaching horse-drawn wagon jarred her out of her daydreams, however.

  When she looked out the window, the sight of picnic tables made her suck in her breath—but when she saw the expectant smiles on Glenn’s and Billy Jay’s faces, her heart sank.

  You really should be grateful to God that Glenn’s moving through the sorrow he feels for his wife—and be thankful for the gift he’s bringing, too.

  Lydianne sighed. There was no escaping Glenn’s attention, because the open door and windows announced her presence. The wagon had barely come to a halt beneath the trees before Billy Jay hopped down and made a beeline for the schoolhouse.

  “Teacher Lydianne, is that you in there?” he called out. “Look what we brung ya!”

  Putting on a bright smile, she walked to the doorway—and was nearly bowled over as Billy Jay threw his spindly arms around her waist.

  “And what brings you out here to the new school?” She rubbed his shoulders and then gently eased away from his embrace. His dark blue shirt was faded but neatly pressed. The black pants fluttering several inches above his shoe tops suggested that he was going through a growth spurt. “Would you like to see the new schoolroom now that it’s all set up? Maybe find your desk?”

  For a few moments, the boy gazed around the classroom with wide eyes, but then he seemed to quickly recall his original mission. “Come and see what Dat made!” he said, grabbing her hand. “Now we can have a picnic every day, if we want to!”

  As she stepped outside with her exuberant student, she couldn’t miss the wide smile on his father’s face. Glenn’s hair was still damp from a shower, and the dark beard framing his face appeared freshly trimmed.

  “Gut morning, Glenn,” Lydianne said as she followed Billy Jay toward the trees. “That’s an intriguing load on your wagon.”

  After his gaze lingered on her for a few moments too long, Glenn looked at his son. “Remember how I told you that you’re not to cling to Teacher Lydianne?” he said gently. “She’s your teacher, not your mamm—and she’ll have other scholars who need her attention during the school day.”

  As the boy obediently dropped her hand, Lydianne was pleased that Glenn had mentioned this matter even as she felt very sorry that Billy Jay was so hungry for her attention. She smiled at the boy—although she wondered if Glenn was using his son’s neediness to inspire her affection for him.

  Focusing on the picnic tables, which were cocoa colored with very smooth boards, Lydianne approached the loaded wagon. “These tables look different from most I’ve seen,” she remarked. “They’re not made from wood, are they?”

  Glenn smiled as though she’d made a very astute observation. “Nope. I latched onto some composite materials a lot of English use for decks these days,” he replied as he lifted one of the benches off the wagon bed. “These tables should last for years because they won’t deteriorate like wood, and they won’t need paint to keep them looking nice.”

  Lydianne noticed the ease with which Glenn continued removing the tables, which surely had to weigh more than wooden ones. “Can I help you steady—”

  “Oh, no—I’ve got this.” As he set the last table on the ground, his short-sleeved shirt strained taut against his muscular shoulders and arms. “If you could lift the other end, though, you could show me where you want—”

  “I’m your helper, Dat—remember?” Billy Jay piped up as he scrambled to the other end of the table. “Where do you want this one, Teacher Lydianne? Under this shade tree?”

  “That would be perfect,” she replied. It wasn’t at all unusual to see fathers and sons working together, yet she had the sense that Glenn and Billy Jay were orchestrating this task to impress her.

  And what will they expect in return?

  It was an uncharitable thought, and it made Lydianne uncomfortable. Glenn Detweiler was an industrious fellow with a pleasant disposition, and from all outward signs, he’d provided Dorcas a happy life.

  But I can’t encourage his attention. It would be dishonest and unkind to let him believe I’m the untainted schoolteacher everyone thinks I am.

  By the time Glenn and Billy Jay had positioned three full-sized picnic tables and one that would seat about eight little children, Lydianne’s thoughts were spinning in a tight spiral. “Denki so much for the time and money you spent on this wonderful-gut gift for the schoolyard,” she said nervously. “I’m sorry I don’t have any water or lemonade to offer you—”

  Glenn had apparently been waiting for just such an opening. “I was hoping we might go into town for lunch—maybe pick up some sandwiches at the deli and take them to the park,” he said with a hopeful smile.

  “Jah, and I could play on the swings and the jungle gym!” Billy Jay exclaimed.

  As the boy hopped up and down in his excitement, Lydianne felt trapped. She didn’t have a legitimate excuse—but if folks in town saw the three of them sharing lunch in the park, the grapevine would be afire with the news that she and Glenn were seeing each other.

  “I appreciate your offer, but—”

  At the sound of an approaching horse and buggy, Lydianne turned and almost cheered. Bishop Jeremiah was driving toward the schoolhouse. As he waved at them, his expression told her he was assessing the situation between her and Glenn. He pulled his rig up to the hitching post, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.

  “So these are the tables you were talking about?” the bishop called out as he slid out of his rig. “I’m glad you’re here, Glenn. If you’ve got a minute, you and Billy Jay can help me position the four bases on the ball diamond. Works better if two people are pacing off the distance between bases and pulling the rope between them to keep the baselines straight.”

  If Glenn was irritated by the bishop’s interruption, he did a fine job of covering it. Lydianne wondered if Jeremiah had originally intended for her to be his helper—or had he found out the Detweilers were coming to the school today? Either way, it was the opportunity she’d been praying for.

  “I have to be going, so I’ll leave you fellows to your work,” she said, carefully avoiding the mention of her destination. “Denki for all your help getting the school and the yard ready for our scholars.”

  Before either man could detain her, Lydianne hurried into the building, gathered some texts, and shut the windows. As she closed the door behind her, she realized Glenn and Jeremiah might sense she was running from them, but she didn’t let that slow her down. She waved at the trio carrying the bases toward the ball field, hitched up her horse at the pole barn, and drove toward the road without looking back.

  How could she convince Glenn and the bishop that she didn’t want to date either of them, without giving them the real reason why?

  Chapter Nine

  Monday, September second, dawned clear and bright without the heat and humidity that had made August so uncomfortable. It was perfect weather for the first day of school.

  Nervous and excited, Lydianne arrived at the schoolhouse way too early because she couldn’t stand to stay home another minute. She knew her classroom was in order, yet she had to check each scholar’s desk and textbooks for the umpteenth time. She rearranged the paper, crayons, and markers on the worktable where her scholars could make posters of their names to decorate the wall when they weren’t actively engaged with their first day’s lessons. S
he smoothed her new teal cape dress and sat in the chair at her desk, watching the clock on the back wall as she rehearsed how she would introduce lessons—especially for her three beginning students.

  At last, the clatter of wheels and the sound of laughter announced her scholars’ arrival. Lydianne went to stand on the front stoop—and her heart flew into her throat. Billy Jay was driving a large cart up the lane, urging his brown Shetland pony to go so fast that Stevie Shetler, seated beside him, lost his hat. Little Ella sat behind the boys, clutching her kapp to her head—and laughing as though she were riding the Ferris wheel at the county fair.

  Lydianne’s first impulse was to cry out that Billy Jay should slow down, but when the boy spotted her, he immediately reined in the pony. The cart rolled along the final ten yards at a sedate pace, with its three riders all wearing angelic expressions that made Lydianne chuckle to herself. Teaching school was a far cry from working at the Flaud factory—and it would be anything but boring.

  Not far behind Billy Jay, Lucy and Linda Miller drove their larger cart, followed by Lorena and Kate Flaud, who’d given Gracie Wagler a ride in their rig.

  Suddenly, the moment Lydianne had been awaiting for weeks had arrived—and she froze. She had no idea what to say or do.

  “Gut morning, Teacher Lydianne!” Kate called out, and the other scholars echoed her exuberant greeting.

  The joy on their faces filled Lydianne’s heart. How could she remain nervous and tongue-tied, surrounded by such bright smiles? “Gut morning, my dear scholars,” she replied as she opened her arms wide. “It’s going to be a wonderful-gut day, and our best school year ever. After you’ve pastured your ponies and put your lunches on your shelves downstairs, please come up and find your seats.”

  As the students drove to the corral, Lydianne walked around the white schoolhouse to stand at the lower-level door. When her three beginners approached with their lunch pails, she showed them inside, where wooden partitions along the walls contained pegs for hanging their wraps as well as shelf space for their lunches—and for their boots when the weather turned snowy. “Everyone has a spot with his or her name on it,” she explained. “The girls are along this wall—”

  “And us boys are on this side,” Billy Jay put in as he steered Stevie toward their partitions. “Stick with me, Stevie, coz I can read!”

  What a blessing it was to hear the clatter of shoes on the stairs and classroom floor mingling with the scholars’ voices as they gazed at the wall displays in their new schoolroom. Lydianne had arranged the smaller desks in the front row, and as she guided Ella and Gracie to their seats, Billy Jay read the name placards aloud until he found his spot at the end.

  “I don’t get to sit by Stevie?” he asked with a hint of mischief. “Why’s he sitting clear down at the other end?”

  Lydianne playfully raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re in second grade, and he’s with the other first-graders, jah?” she asked, gesturing toward Ella and Gracie.

  “Billy Jay has always been in a class by himself,” Lorena quipped. “But we love him anyway.”

  “We do!” Lydianne agreed quickly. She went to her desk and pointed up to the passage she’d printed across the top of the white board. “Our Bible verse for the day is from Psalms 118, the twenty-fourth verse. Say it after me. ‘This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.’”

  Her eight students obediently repeated the verse.

  “Loud and proud now!” Lydianne encouraged them. “If we can’t rejoice about being in a brand-new school, all of us together to learn, we might as well go home, ain’t so?”

  This time the scholars filled the room with their confident, eager voices. And from there, the day sped by with lessons in spelling, reading, English, and math—as well as time for the scholars to create their name posters with crayons and markers. At recess, the two boys took turns batting—and chasing after—the softball that Lydianne pitched for them, while the six girls played together on the swings. By the time her students were driving their carts toward the road, still singing “You Are My Sunshine” as they’d done to end the school day, Lydianne dropped into her desk chair.

  She was exhausted. Exhilarated. And totally devoted to the eight young souls who would share her life for the next nine months.

  Most of all, Lydianne was awash with love for Ella, who sat in the front row beaming at her with attentive blue eyes. Ella already knew her alphabet and her basic addition facts, she could print neatly, and she would soon be reading. What a joy it would be to watch the baby she and Aden had created grow into a capable, perceptive scholar.

  * * *

  So he wouldn’t distract the kids—or alert their teacher to his presence—Jeremiah rode his Percheron around to the back side of The Marketplace when he heard Lydianne congratulating her scholars on a fine first day of classes. From what he’d heard for the past hour or so, he had to agree. The young voices drifting from the open schoolhouse windows had sounded enthusiastic and confident as they’d recited their math facts and sung the alphabet song.

  Jeremiah had caught glimpses of Lydianne holding up the flash cards—and then she’d used a yardstick to quickly point to the letters displayed above the white board as everyone sang the alphabet song for the benefit of the youngest students. It was a joy to watch her engaging with her class, pouring herself into the basic education that would prepare Morning Star’s Amish children to become productive, competent adults.

  When the kids were headed for the road in their rigs, with Billy Jay racing his pony cart ahead of the Miller girls and the Flaud sisters, Jeremiah rode toward the schoolhouse. After he hitched Mitch at the rail, he stepped up to the doorway to speak with Lydianne—but he stopped.

  The teacher sat at her desk with her head resting on her folded arms. She’d turned out the gas light fixtures to make the schoolroom darker.

  He sensed Lydianne was totally played out after her first day at a job that required so much more of her than staining furniture had, and he almost slipped away rather than disturb her respite. Yet the questions that had been plaguing him all week wouldn’t leave him alone.

  Why was Lydianne so skittish around him? Was she becoming more interested in Detweiler—maybe falling for winsome Billy Jay, as well? Was she intimidated because Jeremiah was the district’s bishop, or because he’d been married before? After seeing the way Glenn had made such an obvious play for Lydianne’s attention by bringing the picnic tables to the schoolyard, Jeremiah knew he had to up his ante. He had no time to waste if he wanted a chance at winning the pretty blonde’s affection for himself.

  He prayed for the right words and cleared his throat. “How was your first day, Teacher Lydianne? Anybody cause you any problems?”

  Lydianne sat up abruptly, blinking to focus on him. “We did well!” she replied quickly. “They were gut as gold, every one of them—but then, scholars are generally on their best behavior for the first day, jah?”

  Jeremiah chuckled, slowly approaching her desk. The shade from nearby trees, along with a breeze, made the schoolroom cool and pleasant. “That’s probably right, although I doubt your girls will ever make much fuss. Billy Jay, on the other hand, seems to be coming out of his shell—”

  “Isn’t he awfully young to be driving a pony cart to school?” Lydianne interrupted. “I didn’t challenge him about it, because I figured if Stevie’s and Ella’s parents trusted him to transport them, they must feel confident in his skills.”

  Stopping at the front wall to admire the colorful name posters the scholars had made, Jeremiah shrugged. “I suspect Glenn’s been coaching his boy with that pony and cart, so he won’t have to bring him to school each morning—and maybe to encourage him in a skill he enjoys,” he suggested. “Jude tells me that Billy Jay and Stevie have done a lot of driving around at their place, using that cart to haul feed and supplies for Leah’s cattle and other livestock. Boys tend to take up the reins sooner than girls, after all.”

  Lydianne
was nodding in agreement, looking fresh and pretty in her new dress. Despite eyes and shoulders that drooped a bit with weariness, she seemed even more enticing than usual—or perhaps that was because Jeremiah finally had her all to himself. All thoughts of little boys and pony carts left him when she focused on him.

  No time like the present. Never mind that it’s been years since you asked a girl for a date.

  Jeremiah smiled, hoping his voice didn’t hitch like a teenager’s. “I, um, was wondering if you’d come to the Shetler reunion with me on Sunday the fifteenth—”

  “No! I—I can’t do that!”

  Startled by the fierce finality of her reply, Jeremiah blurted his response before he thought about it. “Why not? Are you seeing Detweiler?”

  Lydianne’s eyes widened as she gripped the edge of her desk. “Absolutely not! It’s not a gut idea to get involved with—this isn’t the right time to—”

  The deep disappointment on his face must’ve alerted her to his feelings. “I’m sorry, Jeremiah,” she whispered. “Please don’t ask me to explain. And please don’t ask me again.”

  The schoolroom suddenly felt airless and claustrophobic. Jeremiah swallowed hard, fighting the urge to argue with her as she stood up behind her desk, as though using it for a shield. He felt stunned, as though a rattlesnake had bitten him out of the blue.

  She’s left you with nothing to say, man. Better back away now before you dig a deeper hole.

  “See you at church then,” he murmured as he turned to go.

  He gave her plenty of time to call him back, but it didn’t happen. As Jeremiah mounted Mitch and rode away, his soul reeled with the sting of Lydianne’s rejection. He felt like a whipped dog slinking away with his tail between his legs. He had no idea what had caused her to throw up such a sudden, totally unexpected, emotional barrier.