“No, it’s fine.” Rosemary put on a brave face. “I have to get over him, that’s all. And I will. He and his daett just moved here after his mamm died. He’s carrying a heavy load now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Lydia said.
Rosemary paused with her hoe in one hand. “And as for me, you or Ezra don’t need to feel bad. It’s not as though I want another chance with Clyde. That’s clearly in the past.”
Lydia didn’t respond, and the girls turned their attention to their work. Their tools rose and fell in unison as they attacked the thornbushes. The simple peace and camaraderie of their shared disappointments was comfort enough for the moment. But before long, both of them glanced toward the garden where Sandra and Ezra were engaged in a lively conversation.
“See what I mean?” Lydia muttered. “It’s maddening.”
Rosemary choked back a laugh. “Yah, I see what you mean. So that’s what you were muttering about earlier. I thought it was the weeds.”
“Maybe it is a weed,” Lydia said, but she knew it was the bitterness in her heart speaking. The truth was, she loved Ezra.
Chapter Two
The following Saturday evening, Lydia ran to the front window of the Troyers’ living room and peeked through the drapes. A buggy had rolled into the drive a few moments earlier, and Lydia watched as the lengthy form of Deacon Schrock climbed out. The deacon tied his horse to the hitching post, but he made no move to go any farther. Rather, the deacon stood beside his horse with clasped hands. Lydia pulled back from the window. Did Bishop Henry already have the deacon busy on church work—even though he’d only recently arrived in the community? That was possible, but what anyone in the family could have done to provoke a visit from the deacon was beyond her. All of her older brothers and sisters were married. The deacon would visit their homes if there was a problem, and she certainly hadn’t disobeyed the ordnung. Her younger sisters, Emma and Rhoda, were still in their rumspringa time. They would be gone for the evening in thirty minutes or so, but they weren’t subject to the deacon’s jurisdiction. Unless her sisters had brought embarrassment to the community. She should check with her sisters more often, Lydia told herself. Maybe the two were up to something that had aroused the community’s concern. Everyone kept close tabs on the young people in the North Country.
Rumspringa in St. Lawrence County wasn’t quite the loose affair it was in other Amish communities. All of the families had made sacrifices to move this far upstate in New York, and they didn’t want the problems from the old community to follow them. Lydia hesitated but looked past the drapes again. Daett had just come out of the barn. She watched as he walked up to the buggy and shook hands with Deacon Schrock. The two were soon deep in conversation. Did Deacon Schrock want something with Daett after all?
Lydia ducked behind the drapes again. Come to think of it, Daett had seemed distracted lately and so had Mamm. But what could Daett have done wrong? Lydia peeked out and saw Daett and Deacon Schrock still talking beside the buggy. The deacon’s visit must have involved some other member of the family. She dropped the drape’s edge from her fingertips and walked toward the kitchen, where Emma and Rhoda were busy at work with supper preparations. Neither of them looked up—which wasn’t necessarily a sign of innocence. Her sisters always rushed through the supper preparations on a Saturday night so they could leave sooner for their weekend’s taste of the world’s freedom.
“What have you two been up to?” Lydia demanded. “The deacon’s here.”
The girls acted as if they hadn’t heard. Emma hummed a worldly tune she must have learned from her Englisha friends. If Mamm had been in the kitchen, Emma would have quit this nonsense at once. But Lydia was too soon out of her own rumspringa to complain about an Englisha tune being hummed. At least she’d had the decency not to bring anything from the world into the house.
Lydia sighed and glanced toward the living room window again. Maybe one of her sisters had hidden a radio upstairs and had let the fact slip at the Sunday evening hymn singing. That could provoke a visit from the deacon. There would be no discipline for her sisters, but Mamm and Daett’s reputation would suffer if they failed to keep control of their children’s rumspringa time. The parents were expected to draw the lines clearly between the world and their home. Nothing but trouble would come from such a situation, and trouble was something Lydia didn’t need right now. Everything needed to be in order at the Troyer’s house so Ezra Wagler would have no excuse to choose Cousin Sandra over her. After all, Ezra came from a well-thought-of family, and his parents would see to it that Ezra chose a frau who would uphold the family’s tradition as faithful Amish church members.
Lydia tried again in a louder voice. “Why else would the deacon be here if you’re not up to no good?”
Emma ceased her humming long enough to say, “I don’t know and I don’t care.”
“That’s not a decent attitude,” Lydia scolded. “Sounds like the deacon should speak with you while he’s here anyway.”
Rhoda added her two cents. “That’s why I’m in no hurry for church membership. And you wouldn’t have been either if you didn’t have Ezra Wagler on the brain.”
Emma and Rhoda giggled and high-fived each other. That was another thing they wouldn’t have dared to do with Mamm around.
Lydia exploded. “I didn’t join the church for Ezra’s sake, and don’t do that silly gesture in the house.”
“You used to act just like this yourself,” Emma shot back. “So don’t go all high-and-mighty on us.”
“At least I had enough sense to leave that Englisha stuff out there,” Lydia snapped. “If you two get too silly, you’ll never make your way back into the faith.”
“Maybe we don’t want to,” Emma said with a glare. “Look how we work ourselves to the bone when a little electricity in the house would save so much labor. Benny Coon’s sister, Avery, had us in her house for a party last weekend, and you should have seen all the fancy things she has. Even the clothes dryer is inside the house and runs on electricity.”
“You should be ashamed of yourselves with such talk!” Lydia said, trying to keep the tension out of her voice. “You’re supposed to taste the things of the world and get them out of your system, not get used to them or bring them home with you.”
“Speak for yourself.” Rhoda gave Lydia a rebellious look. “Be thankful we made supper so you can work on that new dress to impress Ezra Wagler with tomorrow.”
Lydia winced but kept the confidence in her voice. “Yah, and maybe I’ll be sewing his shirts soon—if the two of you don’t destroy the family’s reputation first.”
The two girls were silent, and Lydia refrained from any further protest. Where was Mamm? Without Mamm around, Lydia always seemed to stoop to silly arguments with her younger sisters. If her two older sisters, Lucy and Betty, were still at home instead of married, they’d know how to handle Emma and Rhoda. Lucy was wise beyond her years and a true asset to the family’s standing in the community. And Betty had married Bishop Henry’s son, Lonnie. Lydia could never match the reputations of her older sisters, but that didn’t mean she had to descend to Emma and Rhoda’s level.
“I’m going to find Mamm,” Lydia mumbled. The two girls giggled as Lydia walked off. Clearly Emma and Rhoda thought they held the high ground. More like the low ground, Lydia told herself. But she had other concerns at the moment. Why was Deacon Schrock there? That question still wasn’t answered. Her sisters acted too confident. They obviously hadn’t done anything wrong—at least that they knew of.
Lydia peeked out of the living room window again as she passed. Daett had his head bowed, and Deacon Schrock appeared to be in the middle of a lecture. Could Daett have done something wrong after all? Fear stabbed at Lydia. But what could that be? Daett didn’t bend the ordnung in any way, and both of her parents gave the community their full support. Betty couldn’t have married Bishop Henry’s son under any other circumstances.
Lydia opened the stair door and glanced up the ste
ps. Only silence greeted her, so Mamm must have finished the Saturday cleaning and was no longer upstairs. Had Mamm gone outside? Maybe she was in the garden? But that was unlike her on a Saturday evening. Lydia closed the door but paused to listen. She had heard something—a faint sob coming from the first-floor bedroom. Lydia held her breath as she tiptoed in that direction. Did Mamm know why Deacon Schrock was there?
The bedroom door was ajar, and Lydia entered to find Mamm seated on the edge of the bed, her face in her hands.
“Mamm, what’s wrong?” Lydia sat down beside her.
“We’re ruined,” Mamm whispered.
“Ruined?” Lydia tried to breathe. “Why are we ruined?”
“We just are. That’s why Deacon Schrock is here.” Mamm stifled a sob.
Lydia gripped Mamm’s arm. “How can we be ruined?”
Mamm stared blankly across the room. “Daett made some bad business investments and all our savings are gone. He still owes much more than we can ever pay back.” Mamm placed her head back in her hands, but the sobs had ceased.
“But Mamm.” Lydia slipped her arm around Mamm’s shoulder. “Deacon Schrock is here to help in our time of trouble. You mustn’t let this shame overcome you. Others in the community have had financial problems. It’s not like this is—”
Mamm stopped Lydia with a shake of her head. “Deacon Schrock isn’t here to help, not after Daett tells him everything.”
“There’s shame, yah,” Lydia allowed. “But you shouldn’t take this so hard. Money isn’t everything. You know this.”
Mamm lifted her face and sat up straight on the bed. “The shame is too great. Daett is telling the deacon because he must. I didn’t want him to, but I know that’s not possible. Not if we’re to get support from the church, which we must. We can’t go bankrupt. That would bring an even greater shame on the community.”
“I still don’t understand,” Lydia said. “But then what do I know about money?”
“Thank the Lord you don’t,” Mamm whispered. “I have learned so many things the past few weeks that I think my hair must have all turned white.”
Lydia glanced over at Mamm’s hair. “Your hair is not white,” she said as she reached over to hug Mamm. “It will turn out okay, I’m sure.”
Mamm didn’t look convinced as she got up from the bed, wiped her eyes, and headed toward the kitchen with Lydia following her. Thankfully Emma had begun to hum the Sunday morning praise song by the time they walked in, and Mamm joined in the supper preparations as if nothing was wrong.
Lydia returned to working on the new dress she had started that morning. She focused on the pieces of cloth as the foot-pedaled sewing machine hummed under her. Emma and Rhoda had been correct about her interest in Ezra. Her failure to keep Ezra’s attention at the youth gathering this week troubled her more than her family’s financial problems. Ezra couldn’t go on forever in his undecided state. If she wore a new dress this Sunday at the services, it might push him in her direction. Of course, Sandra likely had the same idea. They thought alike in most areas—maddeningly so.
The sewing machine hummed again. This competition was so silly and beneath both of them, Lydia told herself. Maybe the seriousness of Deacon Schrock’s visit would stop some of this foolishness. Sandra would certainly find out about her family’s problems—eventually, at least. Maybe she should have a talk with Sandra on Sunday to settle the matter of Ezra between them. But how would they do such a thing? They had never been able to settle even the simplest matter before. Now their competition involved love. You couldn’t divide a man’s heart, or your own, for that matter. They both couldn’t marry Ezra, so one of them would have to back down. But who? She wasn’t ready to give in, and she was sure the same was true of Sandra. They both wanted Ezra’s hand in marriage. A King Solomon was needed to decide between them, but King Solomon had long ago passed from the earth.
Behind Lydia, Emma and Rhoda burst out of the kitchen and raced upstairs. Moments later they came back with carry-on bags in their hands.
“Have fun tonight working on that dress,” Emma chirped. “’Cause we’re sure going to have fun!”
“Behave yourselves,” Lydia chided, but both of them were already out the door. Her sisters had some nerve to set out in their open buggy right in front of Deacon Schrock. She would have waited until Deacon Schrock had left before dashing outside, broadcasting her intentions for the evening. Not that Deacon Schrock disapproved of a rumspringa time, but a little discretion was called for. That was a lesson her younger sisters had obviously failed to learn. Lydia laid down the dress with a sigh. She would finish after supper when things had calmed down. Whatever the extent of the problem Daett was discussing with Deacon Schrock, his mood wouldn’t be improved by his two youngest daughters spiritedly bursting out of the house to set out for a night on the town.
Lydia peeked out of the drapes again. Sure enough, Daett still stood with his head bowed as Deacon Schrock glared in the direction of her sisters. Daett made no effort to help Emma and Rhoda as they giggled and hitched Archer, the oldest driving horse, to the open buggy. Emma and Rhoda soon climbed in and drove off, without a backward glance.
About the Author
Jerry Eicher’s Amish fiction has sold more than 700,000 books. After a traditional Amish childhood, Jerry taught for two terms in Amish and Mennonite schools in Ohio and Illinois. Since then he’s been involved in church renewal, preaching, and teaching Bible studies. Jerry lives with his wife, Tina, in Virginia.
About the Publisher
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To learn more about Harvest House books and to read sample chapters, visit our website:
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
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Until I Love Again Page 28