First Light in Morning Star

by Charlotte Hubbard

  A few moments later, Preacher Ammon murmured “amen.” The men on the porch awaited Gabe’s direction, noting that he wasn’t handing out songbooks as he normally did.

  “What with the Shetler reunion only two weeks away,” Gabe began eagerly, “I think we should choose the tunes we want to perform, and practice singing them without the music. We’re ready to do that if we put our minds to it!”

  Jeremiah admired Gabe’s spirit—his ability to move beyond the conflicting egos that had gotten their rehearsal off to a rocky start. As he pulled out a pen and paper to write the song titles the men suggested, Gabe glowed with goodwill and positive energy.

  You would glow, too, if you were engaged to a pretty young woman.

  Jeremiah’s eyes widened at this thought, which had struck him from out of nowhere. Gabe and Regina Miller were so delightedly in love with each other that it was almost painful for him to watch their long gazes and listen to them gush about each other during their premarital counseling sessions. Unfortunately, Lydianne had made her feelings very clear—and Jeremiah had no appetite for any more of her rejection.

  He supposed he should feel better, knowing she wasn’t interested in seeing Detweiler, either. Maybe he’d be doing Glenn a favor if he revealed that Lydianne didn’t intend to encourage his attentions—or fall for his rakish fedora and shades.

  Nah. He won’t believe that, coming from me. It’s better if he gets burned just like I did.

  This line of thought wasn’t very charitable, but it raised Jeremiah’s spirits. As the men around him began a rousing rendition of “Bringing in the Sheaves,” he joined in with a renewed sense of enthusiasm. He was still baffled by Lydianne’s apparent fear of dating, but she wasn’t playing favorites. One of these days she’d put Glenn in his place, too.

  And God would see that all things worked together for the common good.

  Chapter Eleven

  On Saturday morning, Lydianne was happy to be working inside The Marketplace with Jo, who was baking pies and cakes to freeze for the Shetler reunion the following weekend. As she carefully pulled two sheet cakes from the oven, Lydianne inhaled the rich aromas of chocolate and butterscotch. She was grateful that Glenn and Bishop Jeremiah were busy outside with the produce auction, which had drawn another huge crowd. She had no idea how to deal with either man’s attentions, so after a restless night, she preferred to remain out of sight in Jo’s bakery kitchen.

  “So, is it true, about Glenn showing up for the school picnic looking like a gangster?” Jo asked breezily.

  Lydianne was so startled she burned her forearm on the hot cake pan when she dropped it onto the stainless-steel countertop. “Where’d you hear about that?” she asked with a gasp.

  Jo hurried to the drawer to pull out the first aid kit. “Delores was buzzing like a bee about it when Mamm and I saw her in the bulk store that afternoon,” she replied. “Here—let’s put some ointment on your arm. Sorry I caught you off guard—”

  “Silly me, hoping the grapevine wouldn’t carry that tale,” Lydianne put in with a tired sigh. “I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised by Glenn’s coming—especially because Elva keeps so busy with baby Levi. But his dark sunglasses and English hat might as well have been neon signs that announced ‘I’m flirting with you, Lydianne’ in bright shiny letters.”

  Jo’s smile was catlike. “Is that such a bad thing?”

  “Jah, it is!” Lydianne blurted more vehemently than she intended. “Glenn can’t possibly be interested in me, for myself. He’s still in shock from losing Dorcas, acting as crazy and clueless as a schoolboy wearing such a getup.”

  Jo gently pressed an adhesive bandage over the ointment. “To hear Martha Maude talk about it this morning, apparently Bishop Jeremiah was none too impressed with Glenn’s outfit, either. I guess he and Glenn had quite a go-round at the men’s singing session last night.”

  “Jeremiah has no room to talk, arriving unannounced and then sitting right across from me at the picnic,” Lydianne said with a shake of her head. “And what did Delores have to say about that?”

  “Oh, she thinks Margaret surely must be overjoyed that her son’s finally interested in taking another wife,” Jo replied.

  “Jah, Molly and I are envious.” Marietta’s teasing voice came through the slatted wall of the adjoining noodle shop. “Now that you’re Teacher Lydianne, the eligible men want to be in school again.”

  “Sounds like you’ll have to beat them all off with a stick!” Molly said from Jo’s doorway. She grinned at Lydianne. “Who’re you going to pick?”

  “Neither of them!” Lydianne shot back. “I don’t have time for a social life right now. When I go home from here, I’ll spend my evening grading papers and planning out lessons for next week. I can’t do that tomorrow, after all.”

  Jo chuckled. “No, it wouldn’t look so gut if you were marking papers during the sermons. I guess I hadn’t thought about the work you have to do after hours now—and you’re new at teaching, so you’ll have to figure out how to present all those different subjects every day.”

  “And I present them to kids who’re learning at five different levels,” Lydianne pointed out. “My two oldest girls study the same thing, and so do my first-graders, Stevie and Gracie. Kate’s at her own level, as well. Billy Jay is my only second grader and Linda’s the only seventh grader—and Ella’s so far ahead of the other first graders, I have to figure out ways to keep her challenged.”

  Lydianne paused, hoping she didn’t sound as though she was whining. “I really love working with these kids, but I hadn’t anticipated how much time and effort it takes to be a one-room schoolteacher.”

  Jo considered this as she sliced apples into a bowl to make more pie filling. “I never thought about that,” she remarked. “When you’re a kid, you assume the teacher just shows up to teach—like the preachers come to church and present sermons without any preparation.”

  “Jah, the job looks different from the other side of the desk.” Lydianne felt relieved when Molly returned to the noodle shop and three English ladies came into the bakery looking for cinnamon rolls. At least her friends would give her social situation a rest for a while.

  As Jo went to the front counter to assist her customers, Regina slipped into the shop and joined Lydianne back in the kitchen. When the timer beeped, she handed Lydianne the quilted mitts and opened the oven door for her.

  Lydianne smiled. Regina’s presence always brightened a room, and these days her freckled face was even more radiant than usual. “Denki, Regina,” she said as she grasped the edges of another sheet cake pan. “How’s business at the other end of the building this morning?”

  “Most of the folks who’d be shopping at the Wengerds’ nursery store are outside at the produce auction. There was a lull in traffic at Glenn’s wood shop, so I thought I’d stop by,” the redhead replied. She stepped closer to Lydianne at the back counter.

  “After overhearing some of what Jo and the twins just said—and listening to Gabe’s account of last night’s singing session with the men—I have an offer for you, Lydianne,” she said in a lower voice. “What if I manage the Shetler reunion next weekend? Sounds like you could use the time for your schoolwork.”

  Lydianne’s eyes widened as she set the fragrant lemon cake on the countertop. “But you could surely use that time to get ready for your wedding—”

  Regina waved her off. “Gabe’s mamm and Aunt Cora already have the details under control. All I have to do is show up for the ceremony,” she teased. She glanced behind them, to where Jo was bagging her customers’ purchases. “It sounds like you’d have a lot of Shetlers watching your every move at the reunion. I know you’ll have everything in perfect order for the Flaud gathering here later this month—and you’re my favorite side-sitter—so working in your place next Saturday is the least I can do.”

  Lydianne threw her arms around Regina’s shoulders and hugged her tight. “That would make my life so much easier,” she murmured grate
fully. She felt honored and very excited about standing up with Regina at her wedding—especially because Gabe had long ago asked one of his out-of-town cousins to serve as his side-sitter.

  No romantic entanglements. Just the way I like it.

  After a few moments, Regina eased away from Lydianne’s embrace. Her expression suggested that she had something else important on her mind. “Once Gabe and I are married, I won’t be coming here to The Marketplace on Saturdays anymore. I’ll be doing my new embroidery work at home and selling it in the Flaud Furniture shop,” she said, nodding in that direction. “Gabe’s dat has insisted that I’m to follow the rules, once I hitch up with his son.”

  “That’s as it should be, I suppose,” Lydianne said, even as she felt a pang of disappointment. “But we’ll really miss having you here, Regina. And, um, denki for not rubbing my nose in it, where Glenn and the bishop are concerned,” she added softly.

  Regina’s face softened with a fond smile. “It’s one thing to tease you about having two fine fellows vying for your attention. It’s a horse of a different color when you’re caught in their crossfire while you’re trying to do your best at your new job.”

  Lydianne sighed, realizing how drained she felt after her first week in the classroom. Even without the stir Jeremiah and Glenn were causing, she hadn’t anticipated the amount of mental and emotional energy teaching required. Spending the following Saturday evening at home would give her time to recharge her mental batteries, even if she was doing schoolwork.

  “You’re the best, Regina,” she murmured.

  Her friend shrugged. “What’re friends for? I’ll be the first to congratulate you if you start seeing Bishop Jeremiah or Glenn—but it should be on your terms, Lydianne. We maidels have become accustomed to living life our way. None of us would be happy giving up all our freedom just because a husband—or the church—expected us to.”

  “And you’re gut with staying at home after the wedding?” Lydianne asked quickly. “You’ve really enjoyed starting up our Marketplace adventure.”

  “I have,” Regina agreed, her face taking on a special glow. “But Gabe and his family cared enough to buy my house back and then refinish the floors and paint all the rooms. I might not own that bungalow anymore, but it’s still my home—and now I’ll get to share it with Gabe. And bless him,” she added tenderly, “he didn’t expect me to move someplace else just because he’s the man and wants to be in control.”

  Lydianne had to agree. Regina had caused quite a stir in the church when she’d revealed that she was an accomplished wildlife artist—and that she’d made up a fake identity so she could sell her work when The Marketplace opened. Gabe’s confession about playing his guitar and the piano in the Methodist church had shocked his family and friends, as well. Yet, both of them had created worthwhile endeavors from their forbidden artistic talents—and meanwhile, they’d fallen in love.

  “It’s gut to see that you’re so happy, Regina,” Lydianne whispered.

  “You’ll find a gut man to marry, too, if it’s meant to be,” her closest friend assured her softly. “Take your time and listen to what God’s telling you to do. He’s got better plans for all of us than we can possibly make for ourselves, you know.”

  * * *

  As applause filled the central commons inside The Marketplace, where more than a hundred Shetlers from all over the Midwest had gathered, Jeremiah gave up trying to find Lydianne. From where the men’s group stood on a dais to perform, he could see the entire area in front of the shops—which was filled with tables where folks were sitting, eagerly anticipating the next song.

  He’d come to the potluck supper a little early this evening to seek her out. But Lydianne was nowhere in sight. He’d purposely avoided her company over the past week, hoping the rumors would die down and give them both a break. All he could figure was that Regina was acting as manager in Lydianne’s place—

  Because Lydianne didn’t want to see you? Or is she staying away from Mamm and the other matchmakers? A small town’s a fine place to live because everyone knows you—but it’s also a fishbowl.

  Gabe announced that the next song would be “Go Down, Moses” before turning toward the singers again and softly blowing into his pitch pipe. The song about Moses ordering Pharaoh to release the Israelites from slavery was a longtime favorite, and Jeremiah could sing it in his sleep—

  But he suddenly realized that Glenn, Saul, and Martin were stumbling over the melody and harmony, looking at him with perplexed expressions.

  Jeremiah’s face caught fire. He’d been so distracted by Lydianne’s absence that he’d charged in too soon with the bass line, derailing the entire song.

  Gabe called their singing to a halt, chuckling. “Well, even Moses had to try more than once before he got it right,” he remarked.

  The crowd laughed good-naturedly as Gabe turned to face the group again, gazing directly at Jeremiah with a raised eyebrow.

  “Sorry,” Jeremiah mumbled as the other singers shifted into readiness around him. “I’m on it now.”

  The song went without a hitch, and as the group continued singing for another ten minutes, Jeremiah focused on the music. Singing usually made him feel more upbeat and energized, yet his spirits lagged. Even after their finale—a quick, tricky version of “I’ll Fly Away”—when his friends stood around him soaking up the extended applause they received, Jeremiah felt as if he were isolated inside a thick bubble.

  It didn’t help that his mother had jumped the gun, telling family members of his relationship with Lydianne.

  “Where’s that new teacher your mamm’s told me about?” his great-aunt Sylvia asked as she gazed up at him through her thick lenses.

  “Jah, Margaret says you’ve found another wife!” his elderly cousin Edwin chimed in with a chortle. “Happy to hear it, Jeremiah! You deserve happiness after being alone for so long.”

  Jeremiah wanted to escape out the back exit and not return, except the reunion would last all the next day as well. And because it was a visiting Sunday, most of these folks would be coming to his place around noon for a barbeque and picnic.

  “That’s wishful thinking on Mamm’s part,” he said firmly. “Just because I’m on the school board and I’ve been helping our teacher get set up in the new schoolhouse doesn’t mean there’s anything going on between us.”

  But you wish there was, the voice in his head taunted.

  As Detweiler and the other singers said their good-byes before the Shetler potluck supper began, Jeremiah was even more disappointed that Lydianne wasn’t present. It was a pleasant September evening, perfect for a stroll around the property surrounding The Marketplace. Maybe if they had a chance to talk without being interrupted or watched, they could reach an understanding . . . and he could ask her why she’d been so vehement, so final, about not going out with him.

  Lydianne Christner was one of the most buoyant, positive-minded people he knew. It wasn’t her way to shut down an idea before she’d even considered it.

  After he filled his plate at the various tables loaded with food, Jeremiah ate half-heartedly. As he sat among families with young children and watched devoted couples he’d known most of his lifetime, he realized that he was a misfit in this crowd because he’d gone too long without a mate. When word got around that his relationship with Lydianne wasn’t all his mother had cracked it up to be, folks stole curious, speculative glances at him while he went from table to table greeting family members he hadn’t seen since last year’s reunion.

  Their eyes told him they wondered why his lady friend had ducked out on him. The older folks talked softly among themselves, probably speculating about why any young woman would reject a successful farmer—a respected man whom God had chosen to be a bishop and who still had a sense of humor, a full head of hair, and all of his teeth.

  As the evening wore on, Jeremiah wondered about the same things. The next day at the barbeque, he was grateful that most of his relatives had given up asking about L
ydianne, but he sensed they were still speculating about him—worried that his chances for remarriage might be passing him by.

  * * *

  The last of the far-flung Shetlers were leaving Morning Star on Monday morning when Leah, Jude’s wife, went into labor. Adah was born late that evening, and Jeremiah was delighted that his new niece arrived healthy, and that Leah came through the birth in good shape and with high spirits. He was also glad that this new grandchild gave his mother something wonderful to talk about now that her hopes for him had fallen flat.

  The following Sunday at church, Jeremiah had the rare privilege of announcing that two little angels had arrived. “Most of you have heard that Jude and Leah welcomed their daughter Adah into the world this past Monday,” he said as he looked out over the crowd gathered in the Hartzlers’ large front room. “And on Friday, Matthias and Rose Wagler were blessed with a little girl they’ve named Suzanna. She arrived in time for lunch—”

  “And I’m the big sister!” Gracie piped up from beside Martha Maude, her mammi. “She doesn’t like it much when I sing ‘O Suzanna’ to her, but she’ll come around!”

  As his congregation laughed out loud, elated by the good news, Jeremiah had to hide his sorrow behind a pasted-on smile. Births were a blessed event, but they always reminded him that God hadn’t granted him and Priscilla any children. The service had ended, so the women were making their way into Martha Maude’s kitchen to set out the common meal.

  Jeremiah glanced at Lydianne—and he couldn’t help noticing that, unlike the other women, she wasn’t chatting happily about the new babies or about serving the meal. As she moved into the aisle, she appeared as isolated as he’d felt lately, even though she was surrounded by her maidel friends, who seemed as cheerful as ever.

  When her gaze fell upon Ella Nissley, however, Lydianne’s face lit up—until she realized Jeremiah was watching her. Her eyes widened as she glanced at him and then quickly looked away from him. Then she hurried through the crowd and into the kitchen.