First Light in Morning Star

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by Charlotte Hubbard




  Why was Lydianne so skittish around him?

  Was she becoming more interested in Detweiler?

  Was she intimidated because Jeremiah was the

  district’s bishop, or because he’d been married before?

  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.”

  Don’t miss any of Charlotte Hubbard’s

  Amish romances:

  A Mother’s Gift

  A Mother’s Love

  Seasons of the Heart series

  Summer of Secrets

  Autumn Winds

  Winter of Wishes

  An Amish Country Christmas

  Breath of Spring

  Harvest of Blessings

  The Christmas Cradle

  An Amish Christmas Quilt

  Promise Lodge series

  Promise Lodge

  Christmas at Promise Lodge

  Weddings at Promise Lodge

  New Beginnings at Promise Lodge

  Light Shines on Promise Lodge

  Simple Gifts series

  A Simple Vow

  A Simple Wish

  A Simple Christmas

  The Maidels of Morning Star series

  Morning Star

  First Light in Morning Star

  The Maidels of Morning Star

  Charlotte Hubbard

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Teaser chapter

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2021 by Charlotte Hubbard

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  BOUQUET Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-5182-4

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-5185-5 (eBook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4201-5185-1 (eBook)

  Chapter One

  Hope fluttered like a butterfly in Lydianne Christner’s heart as she parked her rig in the pole barn just north of the new white schoolhouse. It was barely dawn and she was more than an hour early for her interview with the members of Morning Star’s Amish school board, but she needed time to collect her thoughts and plan her answers to the questions she anticipated from the five men who would decide her future. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision when she’d blurted out her wish to apply for the teaching position at the members’ meeting after church a week ago—but in the days since, Lydianne’s soul had reconfirmed her impulsive outburst.

  She really wanted this position. The trick would be replying to the school board’s questions without hinting at the very personal reason she wished to become Teacher Lydianne.

  Did she stand a chance? As she walked toward the new schoolhouse, she pondered the possibilities.

  Lydianne had no idea if anyone else had applied for the position in the past several days. Morning Star’s previous teacher, Elam Stoltzfus, had already left town to assist his family in the wake of his father’s debilitating stroke, so there was no chance he would return. She didn’t know of any other married Amish men who’d likely fill the position—nor did she believe any of Morning Star’s other single Amish women aspired to teach.

  Her close friend, Regina Miller, had just become engaged to Gabe Flaud, so she’d be ineligible to teach. Jo Fussner sold the baked goods, canned vegetables, and jellies she and her mamm made—and she’d taken on the challenge of managing The Marketplace, the renovated stable where local crafters sold their goods. The Helfing twins, Molly and Marietta, ran the noodle factory their mother had begun, and they rented out their dawdi hauses to tourists—and they also kept a shop at The Marketplace—so neither of them seemed a likely candidate for the teaching position, either.

  Lydianne grimaced when she thought about either of the middle-aged Slabaugh sisters managing a classroom. Esther and Naomi lived on a farm just outside of town, and their main occupation seemed to be sharpening their maidel tongues on tidbits of other people’s business.

  Pity the poor children who had either of them for a teacher! Lydianne thought as she gazed across the large grassy lot between the schoolhouse and the red stable that housed The Marketplace shops.

  She warned herself not to assume the school board would hire her, however. After all, she had no teaching experience. She’d taken a job as bookkeeper and stainer at the Flaud Furniture Factory when she’d first come to Morning Star, and she was also the financial manager at The Marketplace, so maybe the men on the board would believe she should remain in her current positions. Martin Flaud, who owned the furniture factory, was the school board president. He hadn’t directly challenged her about leaving her job with him to teach school, but his speculative gazes during the past week had given Lydianne plenty to think about while she’d been staining furniture and tallying orders.

  But with God’s help, I can do this! My heart’s in the right place! Lydianne reminded herself fervently. Just look at what my friends and I have accomplished over the summer. The stable across the
way was falling in on itself, and now it’s full of successful shops that attract hundreds of shoppers to Morning Star every Saturday—and its commissions have funded the new schoolhouse.

  Lydianne and her maidel friends felt extremely pleased about the businesses that now thrived because they had believed in the power of their positive intentions—and because the Old Order church district had bought the property as both a place to hold its auctions and where a new schoolhouse could be built on higher ground. In the first light of this August morning, the white geraniums, purple petunias, bright green sweet potato vines, and yellow marigolds filling The Marketplace’s window boxes glowed in the rays of the rising sun. The stable’s deep red walls shone with the care she and her friends had lavished upon the building.

  Inspired by the sight, Lydianne firmly believed that her ability to manage money, solve problems, and deal effectively with people would be her finest assets as she took on the challenges of teaching Morning Star’s Amish scholars. It was her deepest desire to share her love of learning—to share the best of herself—with the children who’d be charged to her care . . . even if one child in particular was the reason she craved the position.

  Sighing nervously, Lydianne stepped onto the stoop of the schoolhouse and opened the front door. Pete Shetler, Bishop Jeremiah’s nephew, had built the school on a hillside in the style of a bank barn—which meant the front entrance to the classroom was on flat ground, and the lower level was also accessible without any outside stairs. The pungent aromas of fresh varnish and paint, along with the tang of sawed lumber, made Lydianne throw open the windows to let in the fresh morning air. She indulged herself in a moment of standing behind the teacher’s desk, centered in the front of the large, airy room.

  Her heart fluttered at the sight of fresh white walls, low-maintenance tan flooring, and rows of new metal desks and chairs—the front row filled with shorter desks for the youngest scholars. The white board that covered most of the wall behind her awaited whatever instructions she would write with a variety of colored markers. The built-in bookcases at the back of the classroom would soon hold a small library as well as a collection of textbooks. Sturdy tables along the side walls would provide space for class projects. A stairway led to the lower level, where the scholars would hang their coats and store their lunch buckets when they came in each morning.

  The prospect of beginning a new job—a new life—in this fresh setting filled Lydianne with an even greater excitement than she recalled from when she was a scholar, buying paper and supplies as she anticipated each new school year. Even at twenty-three, she loved learning new things, and she eagerly looked forward to passing on her enthusiasm for reading, writing, and arithmetic to—

  “Ah—gut morning, Lydianne.” A familiar male voice pulled her from her musings. “Somehow I’m not surprised that you arrived early.”

  Lydianne pivoted, hoping Bishop Jeremiah Shetler hadn’t caught her with a sappy, day-dreamy expression on her face. “And gut morning to you, Bishop,” she replied in the firmest voice she could muster. “I couldn’t resist the chance to look at all the new desks and equipment before the interview began. Pete did a fabulous job of building our new schoolhouse, ain’t so?”

  The bishop nodded, stepping into the large classroom to admire it. “My nephew has a few questionable habits, but when I see his carpentry skills and the work he can do in short order—when he puts his mind to it—I believe there’s hope for him yet,” he said with a fond laugh. He winked teasingly at Lydianne. “And maybe if he found a nice young woman who’d marry him—”

  “Ah, but if I married Pete, I couldn’t be the new teacher, could I?” she shot back.

  Bishop Jeremiah’s laughter echoed in the large room. “True enough. And maybe he has a few more things to work out of his system before he’s ready to be domesticated,” he admitted. “But it’s a positive sign, that Pete’s quit his job at the pet food factory in favor of taking on more building projects for the church district. And the Helfing twins haven’t kicked him out of their dawdi haus, so maybe he’ll find his way into the church someday soon.”

  Lydianne smiled as the bishop pulled six chairs from the desks in the back row and the worktable and arranged them in an elongated circle. Pete Shetler and his golden retriever, Riley, were the source of several exasperated stories Molly and Marietta had shared with Lydianne and the other maidels—but Jeremiah was right. His nephew had taken on the task of building the schoolhouse after he’d led the work crew that had refurbished the stable in record time before The Marketplace shops had opened in June. Didn’t everyone deserve the benefit of the doubt and a second chance, after all?

  Even you, her soul whispered. So pay attention and give it your best effort this morning.

  As the hands of the wall clock above the door approached eight o’clock, the other members of the school board arrived. Preacher Clarence Miller greeted Lydianne, as did the younger board members, Glenn Detweiler and Tim Nissley. As they took a few moments to look at the new classroom and its contents, Lydianne fortified herself with a deep breath. She prayed silently for the right answers to whatever questions they might ask her, because—except for Bishop Jeremiah—they all had children in school.

  Each man also had the power to express doubts about her lack of experience, or whatever other flaws he might perceive that would keep her from being a fitting replacement for Elam Stoltzfus.

  Martin Flaud paused in the doorway, surveying the classroom. The morning sun glimmered on his silver-shot brown hair and beard as he removed his straw hat and gazed at Lydianne. “Shall we get on with our interview?” he asked in a businesslike tone. “I, for one, am eager to hear what Miss Christner has to say about teaching our children.”

  Swallowing hard, Lydianne sat down in the chair that Martin indicated as her place. She smoothed the skirt of her lilac cape dress and straightened her apron, hoping she appeared fresh and competent. As the men took seats in the circle, she saw that none of them had brought any notes—and she wondered if she should’ve scribbled a few reminders on a tablet before she’d come, if only to refer to it in case her mind went blank during the interview.

  But now, God, it’s in Your hands, she reminded herself. She put on her best smile as she waited for Martin or one of the other men to speak first. Had they agreed beforehand about how the interview was to proceed, and who would ask certain questions?

  Bishop Jeremiah cleared his throat. “Why do you want to be Morning Star’s new teacher, Lydianne?” he asked with an encouraging smile.

  An answer—the image of a bright young face—immediately came to mind, but Lydianne reminded herself that even though it was the district’s bishop asking her this question, she couldn’t tell the whole truth. “I’ve always loved children, and I feel confident that—”

  “I’m surprised you’re not married with a family of your own,” Preacher Clarence interjected. “At your age, surely you’ve had a serious beau or two—”

  “All the years you’ve worked for me at the factory, I’ve wondered about that, as well,” Martin chimed in earnestly. “Yet, when I see you at church or around town, you’re with your maidel friends rather than a young man.”

  Lydianne blinked. She hadn’t expected questions of such a personal nature—at least not so early in the interview. She sensed she needed to answer the preacher and her employer without backing down, however, even if—again—she couldn’t possibly reveal the whole story of her past. “I—I was engaged before I came to Morning Star, jah,” she replied softly. “But my fiancé drowned at a family reunion. On the day before we were to be married.”

  The male faces around the circle sobered. A few moments of uncomfortable silence filled the schoolroom before any of them spoke. Lydianne struggled to keep the tears from her eyes, trying to remain professional despite the emotional timbre of her voice.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Lydianne,” Tim Nissley said. His little daughter would be a first-time scholar this fall, so he’d recently a
greed to join the school board. “But you’ve probably cared for younger brothers and sisters, jah?”

  Lydianne smiled carefully. “No, I was the last child of fifteen—so much younger than my siblings that Mamm always called me her little miracle,” she added with a chuckle.

  She sat up taller, reminding herself that because she was a maidel with no family in Morning Star, folks around town were naturally curious about her past. So far, her experience with children wasn’t stacking up very well, but she hoped to convince these men she was a qualified candidate for their teaching position anyway.

  “I was only seventeen when Mamm passed, and Dat had been gone a while by then,” she explained. “My sisters and brothers were all married with homes in various places, so I—I came to Morning Star six years ago for a fresh start. I’m grateful to God—and to you, Martin—for the job at the furniture factory, and that I’ll soon be able to buy the little house I’ve been renting for my own.”

  “I’m also sorry for your losses, Lydianne. We’re pleased to have you here amongst us, and pleased that you’re interested in teaching our scholars,” Bishop Jeremiah put in gently. As though to steer the interview back toward its original direction, he focused purposefully on the other board members. “What do you gentlemen want to know about Miss Christner’s goals in the classroom, or how she intends to handle discipline problems, for example?”

  Lydianne glanced gratefully at the bishop, sensing his support. She hoped he and the other men present wouldn’t realize there were some large gaps in her story.

  “What with my two girls and Clarence’s daughters being the oldest scholars, and most of the other children just starting school this year, I doubt our new teacher will have a lot of discipline problems to contend with,” Martin remarked as the other men nodded in agreement. He smiled at Lydianne, his stern features softening. “I’m surprised—and sorry, too—that you’d be leaving the furniture factory, but my Kate and Lorena are delighted that you want to be their new teacher.”

 

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