“I know nothing about this,” Lydia protested. “No one has told me any such thing.”
“Well, I think it’s wrong,” Milton said. “Just plain wrong. One should be able to leave peacefully if one wants to. Nancy was in love. I know she was.”
“So Nancy isn’t leaving the community now?”
Milton only grunted as he unloaded the last pumpkin. Lydia hadn’t helped him yet, but Milton didn’t seem to mind. “Will you go for a ride with me this weekend?” Milton asked.
Lydia willed the rapid beat of her heart to still. “I don’t know…” she managed.
Hope lit up Milton’s face. “But you’ll think about it? I would love to take you for a spin into town. I can pick you up right here, tomorrow night around ten. No one need know.”
“You know it always leaks out.”
“But you might come?” Milton still had hope written on his face.
“You want me to come that badly?”
“Yah.” Milton stepped closer. “You know I like you a lot, Lydia. I’d love to have you with me for a night on the town. Surely you can do that without anyone catching you. And if someone did, what would you have to do? Uncle Henry would understand, don’t you think? I’d take all the blame for carting around a baptized girl.”
It was wrong, and Lydia knew it. Besides, if she gave in to this, what else might she give in to? Jumping the fence? “I can’t do it,” Lydia said. “I wish I could, but I just can’t.”
Milton shook his head and turned away. “Why is all the resolve on the other side? Why couldn’t Nancy have had this kind of determination?” Milton stared down the road as another Englisha car slowed down. “I have to be going,” he said, climbing back in his buggy. He clucked to his horse and whirled back up the lane with even more dash than he had displayed when he appeared.
“That’s a nice horse,” the lady approaching the stand said. “And a handsome young man too.”
“Yah, he is.” Lydia tried to smile. But everything was ice inside. Why couldn’t she give in to Milton just a little bit? But that was not the Lord’s way. She must not doubt. There was always harm done when one gave in to temptation.
“So what can I do for you?” she asked the lady.
The lady smiled and pointed. “I think I’ll take that large pumpkin over there, please.”
Lydia’s mind spun as she took the pumpkin to the lady’s car and collected the money. What was this about Daett and Nancy? Did Daett plan to wed Nancy now that Mamm was gone?
Chapter Twenty-Two
The golden rays of an Indian summer sunset hung in the sky that Saturday evening. Inside Uncle Henry’s farmhouse, supper time was not its usual boisterous affair. They were all tired, but their weariness was caused by something deeper than physical labor. The reality of Mamm’s death still haunted them during these quiet moments.
Uncle Henry looked up from his plate and smiled. “We have had a goot week of pumpkin sales. I want to thank you for the goot job you’ve been doing, Lydia. Without your charming face out at the stand, I’m sure half of our customers would have shopped elsewhere. And you did that with the sorrow of your mamm’s passing still heavy on your heart.”
“Yah, I am sorrowing,” Lydia agreed. “But you grew the pumpkins. I didn’t do much other than greet customers and take their money—”
“You’re as modest as your mamm was,” Uncle Henry interrupted, “and you’re as much of a jewel too. She was a great frau to your father and a wunderbah sister to me. May the angels in heaven minister to her tonight.”
Aunt Millie reached across the table to hold Uncle Henry’s hand.
He tried to smile. “Tomorrow we rest and refresh our spirits at the Lord’s house. Bishop Jonas might even have a rousing sermon for us all.” Uncle Henry chuckled, and Lydia and Millie joined in. They all knew that old Bishop Jonas from this district hadn’t done a rousing sermon in years. The aged bishop used to preach up a storm in his youth, but he had slowed down in recent years. The words were still the same, but now they were delivered in a voice that barely carried through the house.
“He’s still a goot man,” Millie said. “And I can always hear him fine from where the married women sit.”
“Yah, his heart is in the right place,” Uncle Henry agreed, then turned his attention to Lydia. “How are you doing, dear? Seems like we’re so busy I rarely get a chance to ask.”
“Still mourning, I guess,” Lydia said. “I miss Mamm a lot, but life moves on.”
“Yah, it does,” Uncle Henry said. “That reminds me. I spoke with Milton this afternoon.”
“Oh?” Lydia jerked her head up nervously.
Uncle Henry grinned. “I thought that might interest you, Lydia.”
Lydia covered her face with her hands. Why had she let slip her feelings about Milton?
Uncle Henry laughed and went on. “Milton wanted to know if it would be okay if he stopped by later this evening.” Uncle Henry glanced at the kitchen clock. “Actually in thirty minutes or so.”
“Why?” Lydia almost choked on the word.
Uncle Henry chuckled. “I thought maybe you’d have some idea about that.”
Is Milton bringing his Englisha car here? The words almost slipped out. But Milton would never dare make such a bold move.
Uncle Henry winked. “He wants to bring his buggy over to take you for a ride. It’s not exactly a date…but you never know.”
“In his buggy?” Lydia bounced to her feet. “I must get ready then.” Had her miracle happened? Had Milton decided to stay in the community?
Millie waved Lydia back down again. “You look fine, Lydia.”
“Yah, you should finish eating,” Uncle Henry said with a smile. “I should have said something sooner, but then you might not have been able to eat at all.”
“Oh, I can eat fine!” Lydia demonstrated by taking a bite. Somehow she had to regain her dignity.
Uncle Henry eyed Lydia. “So you two must be getting serious about each other.”
Lydia took another bite as an excuse to say nothing.
Uncle Henry was still looking at Lydia when he asked, “You’ve heard about his sister, haven’t you?”
“Yah, some of it,” Lydia said.
“I don’t suppose you’re worried that Milton might do the same sort of thing…like jump the fence?” Uncle Henry asked. “Do you have doubts about Milton because of Nancy?”
“Yah, maybe a little,” Lydia allowed.
Uncle Henry nodded. “I can see where that might be a problem, but the ministers are taking care of Nancy. I think Milton’s okay. But your concern speaks well to your favor, Lydia.”
“Milton told me about his sister,” Lydia said. But please don’t ask more questions, Lydia prayed.
“That’s goot,” Uncle Henry said, as if that answered all things. “At least he’s being honest.”
Lydia wouldn’t tell Uncle Henry the whole story. Milton wasn’t being entirely honest. She mustn’t let on what Milton’s opinion was of his sister’s treatment by Deacon William.
“Well, let’s pray and give thanks so Lydia can leave,” Uncle Henry said.
They bowed their heads and Lydia offered her own silent prayer. Help me, dear Lord, and thank You if this is a miracle from You. If not, help me to still be thankful. Just please help me.
“Amen,” Uncle Henry said to conclude the prayer. Lydia jumped up again and began to clear the table, but Millie stopped her with a shake of her head. “Go up and change, if you must. Milton will be here any moment.”
Lydia nodded and whispered her thanks. Seconds later she was up the stairs and in her room. She selected a Sunday dress first, but placed the dress back in the closet at once. She had to calm down and not overdo things. A clean work dress was all she should wear.
By the time Milton drove into Uncle Henry’s driveway, Lydia was taking measured steps down to the living room, giving Millie a little wave as she passed the kitchen doorway. Uncle Henry noticed from his rocker and grinned. At lea
st the mood of the evening had changed. Life did indeed go on, even with Mamm gone.
Lydia took a deep breath and stepped out on the front porch. The last of the sunset had vanished from the sky, and Milton’s buggy stood silhouetted against the barn. With slow steps Lydia approached.
Milton’s voice from the open buggy door greeted her. “Goot evening, Lydia.”
“Goot evening, Milton.” She searched the darkness for his face.
As if he knew, Milton leaned out of the buggy. “Were you surprised when you heard I was coming over?”
“Yah, I was,” Lydia admitted.
“Well, I wanted to see you, and since you wouldn’t go for a ride in my car…” He grinned. “I thought you might go for a ride in my buggy instead. I couldn’t pass up a chance of being with you.”
Lydia didn’t answer. Instead she hurried around to the other side and hopped up the step to bounce onto the buggy seat.
“Getup!” Milton hollered, and off they went down the lane, past the remaining pumpkins in the fields. The stand was closed tomorrow, so Uncle Henry would still have pumpkins left over on Monday evening. But Lydia didn’t want to think about pumpkins right now. She was seated beside Milton in his buggy, and they were off for an evening drive. Who would have thought this would ever happen?
“Are you happy now?” Milton asked.
“Yah, but you didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” Milton said, driving past the dark frame of the roadside stand. “So where would you like to go?”
“We could just drive,” Lydia suggested. “But could you tell me what changed your mind? You didn’t seem interested after I turned down your offer of a ride in your car.”
“Like I said,” Milton said, “I just wanted to be with you. In a setting other than work.”
“So you’ve changed your mind about…” Lydia stopped. She shouldn’t say too much.
Milton squeezed her hand. “Let’s just enjoy our evening together. We don’t have to speak of anything else.” Milton let go of her hand to wave toward the darkened fields. “I just wanted to show you that I’m serious, Lydia. About you and me and the future. I’m not so stubborn that I wouldn’t consider staying in the community. But let’s just leave that be. Okay?”
Lydia nestled against his shoulder. The gesture seemed natural enough, almost as if she belonged here—which she did. Her heart said so at least. “Thank you, Milton,” Lydia whispered into the darkness. “This means a lot to me.”
“And to me,” he said before silence fell between them. The lights of the Englisha houses passed by the buggy. Here and there, a few of the living room windows twinkled with Amish gas lanterns and kerosene lamps. Lydia held Milton’s hand and stayed close to him. The lights from the cars on Highway 184 illuminated the interior of the buggy as they passed. When the next one came, Lydia glanced up at Milton’s face, and he smiled down at her. They drove on in silence again.
The lights of Heuvelton were soon visible on the horizon. Perhaps she should give way at least a little tonight. It wasn’t right that Milton should make all the sacrifices, especially since he was still on his rumspringa. But what could she do that would still pass any questions Uncle Henry might ask tomorrow morning?
“The town of Heuvelton has their trick or treat tonight,” Milton said, as if he could read Lydia’s thoughts. “We could go buy a few bags of candy and pass them out at a street corner from the buggy. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Lydia sat up straight. “You would do that?” This would pass Uncle Henry’s questions and everyone else’s. “Yah, let’s.”
He chuckled and drove straight toward the small supermarket on the edge of town.
“Stay right here,” Lydia ordered when Milton pulled the buggy to stop. She didn’t wait for an answer but raced inside. Thankfully she had brought her purse. She would pay for this with her own funds. Milton had suggested the idea, and she would pay.
Lydia entered the double doors and headed for the candy section. The selections were slim since this was trick or treat night, but she found a large bag of small Snickers and various flavors of wrapped gum. This would be sufficient, Lydia decided. She took her selections and paid at the counter.
The clerk handed Lydia the bagged candy. “Enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks,” Lydia said, rushing out again.
Milton leaned out of the buggy with a grin on his face. “There’s a perfect corner right over there!” He pointed, his arm highlighted under the bright streetlights. “I’ve been watching it, and the children are pouring past.”
“Let’s go then.” Lydia climbed back into the buggy. “And thanks for a great idea.”
“My pleasure.” Milton’s face beamed.
Lydia focused on the street ahead of them. Milton was right. This was the perfect spot. Was this the beginning of a new life for them? Who said things had to go exactly the way they did for other couples in the community who ended up happily married? They were unique and their journey was unique, but she would not think of the future right now. This was the present, and Milton was with her.
He pulled to a stop, and they both hopped down from the seat. Already children were headed toward them with gleeful grins on their faces.
“A buggy out trick-or-treating,” they hollered.
Lydia smiled up at Milton as they stood together and passed out the candy. Surely her heart would soon burst from happiness.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The dim November sunshine crept past the drapes of the upstairs bedroom where John lay. Laura knelt beside the bed and reached for John’s hand. John hadn’t spoken or looked at her in the ten minutes since she had entered his room. When she arrived at the Yoders’ home, John’s mamm had sent her up the stairs with a weary smile but without any delay.
“John,” Laura whispered again. “I love you.”
John kept his head turned away from her, his lips silent.
“I love you,” Laura repeated. “Nothing about our love has changed. Remember how we…” Laura stopped. Perhaps it was best not to remind John of their last kiss.
John finally spoke softly. “How can you love me with Wendell after you?”
“How do you know about him?” Laura asked. “I don’t care about Wendell. Surely you know that.”
John turned toward her, his sightless eyes pale. “So it is true? Wendell wants to court you?”
Laura gripped the side of the bed with both hands. This was not goot. She couldn’t lie. John already knew.
John turned his face back toward the wall. “You had best leave now, Laura. I can’t be a proper husband to you if I can’t see. You should accept Wendell’s affections.”
“But I don’t love him!” Laura reached for John’s face and turned it toward her. “Look at me. See in my eyes how much I love you?” At once, she realized how foolish her words were. “I’m sorry!” she said. “I wasn’t thinking…”
“You should go now,” John said softly as he turned his face away from her again.
Laura leaned across the bed. “But you love me, John. I know you do. What else matters?”
His shoulders shook but silence filled the room.
“Tell me you don’t love me,” she demanded.
Laura touched his shaven cheek. John blinked but didn’t turn toward her. “Our love was given to us by the Lord,” she whispered. “We can’t let it slip away just because the road has become difficult.” A tear slipped out of John’s eye, and Laura continued. “Do you really want me to date and eventually marry Wendell, even while I still love you? And while you feel the same? What kind of life would that be? I’d see you at the Sunday meetings and know that we could have been wed. Meanwhile I would have to live with another man simply because he still has his sight. Do you want me to live like that, John? For all the years until the Lord calls me or Wendell home?”
John’s face twitched and he opened his eyes. “How can we ever be happy when I can’t see? When I can’t work? I will not live on charity, Lau
ra. My hospital bill is enough of a burden to the community. I won’t saddle them with a foolish marriage when I can’t support a wife and maybe kinner. The Scripture says such a man is worse than the heathen.”
A soft knock on the door was followed by Hilda entering the room.
“Do you need anything, John?” Hilda asked.
“No, I’m okay,” John said. “We were just talking.”
Laura kept her gaze on John’s face, not looking at Hilda. No doubt Hilda’s entrance was a signal that it was time for Laura to leave. She knew John’s parents wished she wouldn’t show up to visit. Hilda’s weary smile when she had arrived said that plainly enough. But how did they know what the right thing was for John and her? They loved John, but not the way she did.
The bedroom door closed softly as Hilda left.
“Kiss me,” Laura whispered. “Quickly, before she comes in again.”
“Mamm is not against us,” John muttered. “My parents only want the best for me.”
“But you love me. You know you do,” Laura said, pulling him close. His lack of resistance told her that nothing had changed between them. She knew it hadn’t, and now John knew. His hands reached for Laura and traced the outlines of her cheeks. From there John’s fingers moved to her nose and the bottoms of her ears.
“See, this is how we will love each other,” Laura whispered. “Nothing has changed!”
John groaned and pulled his hands away. “You are forbidden to me now, Laura. I am smitten of the Lord.” His face darkened.
“No you aren’t! We will walk through this valley together and come out on the other side still holding each other’s hands. For as long as the Lord gives us the breath of life.”
John shook his head. “It’s too much to ask.”
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