Jo nodded, thinking the thrum of Lydianne’s voice still sounded awfully intense several hours after Ella had been found. “You really should go home and get some rest,” she suggested gently. “You’ll be snoring all through church tomorrow.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
Emotions Jo couldn’t name flickered across Lydianne’s face before she spoke again.
“I thought I’d stay until the auction’s over, to gather up the receipts so I can do the accounting,” she said. “If I work at home, maybe that bookkeeping will lull me to sleep, because otherwise I’ll be keyed up for a while. I—I feel so horrible that Ella slipped away while I wasn’t paying attention.”
Was she hearing more than Lydianne was willing to say? Jo didn’t feel right pressing for an explanation when her friend appeared exhausted enough to lay her head on the worktable for a nap. She put a frosted cinnamon roll on a small plate and slid it across the table. “Here. Sugar and cinnamon make everything better, ain’t so?”
Lydianne smiled gratefully before snatching up her treat. “You’ve got that right, Jo. What would I do without friends like you?”
* * *
As Jeremiah climbed the stairs with the two preachers and Deacon Saul before the Sunday service at the Wagler home, exhaustion and anxiety nipped at him like aggressive, circling dogs. He’d prayed through the night, because every time he stopped, Lydianne’s story—her plaintive voice—f illed his mind. He’d considered courses of action appropriate to the Old Order faith, yet none of them stood out as right. He wanted to know God’s opinion and hear His direction before he discussed Lydianne’s situation with the preachers and Saul, but it seemed the Lord wasn’t going to whisper in his ear or show Jeremiah the sign he so desperately needed.
“Jeremiah, are you with us?”
“Jah—Earth calling Jeremiah!”
He blinked. Clarence, Ammon, and Saul were all focused on him as though one of them had asked a question and he’d been too deep into his woolgathering about Lydianne to realize it. “Sorry. Long night.”
Ammon’s eyebrows rose. “Surely you slept better last night, knowing Ella was home safe and sound,” he remarked. His statement sounded like an unspoken question, an invitation to talk about whatever was bothering him before they went downstairs to worship in the Waglers’ front room.
Voices drifted up through the heat grate in the floor. The congregation was singing the morning’s first hymn, slowly and methodically, as though nothing unusual had transpired. Jeremiah, however, felt as though the world was tipping on its axis like a seesaw—first in one direction, and then in another. Each disciplinary option he’d been considering seemed favorable at first, and then it felt totally wrong to him. He couldn’t bring himself to mention Lydianne’s revelation as the four of them discussed the Scripture passages listed in the lectionary.
“It was indeed a blessing to spot Ella on that rock by the river,” he remarked as they all rose from their chairs to go downstairs. “We have a great deal to be thankful for.”
“So, I’ll preach first, and Ammon will take the main sermon?” Clarence clarified.
“Jah, that’s what we decided,” Jeremiah replied, although he didn’t actually recall their making that decision—and that startled him. He prayed again that God would guide him during the church service, and that by the time he pronounced the benediction, he would know what to do. Lydianne deserved a clear answer, and she hadn’t backed away from making the confession the Ordnung called for.
When he’d opened the service and taken his seat on the preachers’ bench for the first sermon, however, Lydianne’s pale, downcast face tore at his heart. A row ahead of her on the women’s side, Julia sat with her arm around little Ella, who leaned against her quietly with a faceless doll in her lap. Mother and daughter were the picture of a tranquility that transcended blood ties and had been crafted by the Creator Himself. On the men’s side, Tim sat peering between the heads in front of him, gazing at his wife and child.
Jeremiah clasped his hands hard, trying to get a grip on the situation. Did he have the right to rip apart the Nissley family’s deep, sweet relationship with their six-year-old adopted daughter? That’s what would happen if Lydianne made her confession. If he asked her to kneel before the congregation and spill out the tale of her sin, her story would overturn the well-being of the entire church district—not to mention the way it would disrupt the education of the eight scholars who adored their teacher.
As the bishop, it was his duty to see that souls in need of confession spoke out—cleared their hearts of secret burdens that came between them and a full, honest devotion to God.
But wasn’t it also his calling to ensure the emotional security of the souls and families God had entrusted to him?
The horns of his dilemma prodded him all through the three-hour service. Jeremiah was aware that they’d been singing hymns and that the longer, second sermon had been delivered. He’d led the congregation in prayer, but he wasn’t sure what he’d said—and he hoped his words had been appropriate and coherent. When he stood up to pronounce the benediction, he still had no clear notion of what God wanted him to do about Lydianne’s situation.
When he observed the heaviness of her tormented expression as she sat with her head bowed, however, he couldn’t bring himself to throw her to the wolves. He saw no point in announcing Ella’s safe return, because everyone had heard her story. The women had been expressing their relief to Julia in Rose Wagler’s kitchen before the service had started.
So, Jeremiah came to the end of his usual benediction and stopped, putting a smile on his face despite his inner upheaval. As folks rose from the benches, ready to set out the meal, he knew he’d left Lydianne hanging. She felt no more relief than he did, because she was still emotionally pregnant with the confession she hadn’t delivered.
But it was the best he could do. He needed to speak with her again, but not while they were surrounded by their entire congregation.
* * *
“Lydianne, are you all right?” Jo murmured as they shuffled between the pew benches toward the center aisle.
“Jah, I thought you’d be ecstatic that the bishop found little Ella,” Marietta put in gently, “but you look like you haven’t slept a wink all weekend.”
Lydianne tried to compose her expression, because her observant maidel friends wouldn’t leave her alone until they’d pried the truth from her. But if the bishop hadn’t called a Members Meeting so she could make her confession, he must’ve had a very good reason—and she wanted to hear it before she revealed her situation with a slip of her tongue.
“I haven’t slept,” she confirmed wearily. “It still bothers me that Ella wandered away from the schoolyard while I was taking a nap. I should’ve been out on the playground, paying attention.”
Regina slipped her arm around Lydianne’s shoulders. “In your place, I’d feel bad about that, too,” she murmured. “But it all turned out fine, so you need to let go of that guilt, sweetie. From what I saw when Julia was talking to you before church, she feels no ill will—”
“Jah, she’s been telling everyone that Ella has taken to running off at home, too,” Molly remarked, “so I’d accept the fact that everybody gets caught napping once in a while, so to speak. You’re human like the rest of us, Lydianne.”
Jah, that’s wise advice, but if you had an inkling of the truth about my connection to Ella, you’d be appalled.
To further compound Lydianne’s guilt, she was worried about letting her friends down if she stopped working at The Marketplace on Saturdays. Because she wasn’t running a shop, she was the perfect person to keep the accounts or to fill in for shopkeepers who couldn’t come in on any given day—and Regina’s absence was already making a difference in the workload the four of them shared to keep The Marketplace running smoothly. With Jo baking and maintaining the refreshment area, and the Helfings being much better at noodle making than numbers, Lydianne believed the bookkeeping would suffer if she
left.
And that would attract the attention of Deacon Saul. The maidels were delighted about creating and managing such a profitable enterprise, so it would be a shame for Saul to take over the finances.
Lydianne quickly put on a tired smile when she realized she hadn’t responded to Molly’s statement. “I am human,” she mumbled. “And you’re right—even teachers make mistakes, and they need to move on. Ella’s home, and that’s what counts.”
Could that belief sustain her while she and Bishop Jeremiah discussed her options? She suspected she wouldn’t be home from church for very long that afternoon before he paid her another visit.
Chapter Twenty
Early that evening, Jeremiah stepped onto Lydianne’s front porch, determined to settle the matter of her sin and her confession of it. Before he could knock, she opened the door and gestured for him to come in. As always, her punctuality and prettiness charmed him—and she had coffee and cookies waiting for him on the kitchen table, as though she’d been expecting him, watching for him. It would be so easy to make Lydianne a permanent part of his life—she always seemed to do the right things at the right time.
But this is not the right time to consider anything resembling a lifelong relationship.
Jeremiah seated himself on one side of her small, rectangular table rather than assuming the position a husband would occupy. When she sat down across from him, however, he realized it would be even harder to hold their discussion face to face, because he couldn’t avoid looking into her big blue eyes.
Those eyes held a lot of questions as Lydianne folded her hands on the table in an attitude of prayer and submission. “What have you decided?” she asked before he could begin their conversation. “I was ready to confess after church—”
“And I admire your willingness to follow the Ordnung, Lydianne,” Jeremiah put in quickly. “Most folks have to be convinced to admit their wrongdoing, and some almost have to be dragged kicking and screaming into the ritual of confession. But every time I looked at Julia sitting there with Ella today, while Tim gazed at them from across the room, I realized how badly their world would be shattered if I asked you to break your news in a public setting.”
Lydianne sighed. “Jah, there’s that.”
“Not to mention the disruption to the education of those eight scholars who believe you hung the moon, and who love to learn because you’re their teacher,” he added. “As I’ve pondered our options, I see three.”
Her expressive eyebrows rose. “Bishop, I’m grateful for your open-minded attitude,” she said in a low voice. “In the district I came from, there would’ve only been one option—baring my soul on my knees and accepting my punishment, no matter the consequences for anyone else.”
Lydianne glanced away with a pensive sigh. “I’m guessing the first option is the standard confession I just mentioned? Most likely followed by a six-week bann—and then a lifetime of knowing I’d caused a great deal of strife for the Nissley family.”
Jeremiah nodded. “The second idea is a bit more complicated. I could find a replacement teacher and remove you from your teaching duties without making your situation public—because you have confessed to me, and as the bishop, I can choose to keep your confession confidential.”
Jeremiah rested his elbows on the table, leaning toward her as he watched the play of expressions on her lovely face. “If this is the route we go, you’d need to leave Morning Star as soon as I find another teacher—and I would have a lot of questions to answer. But I would do that for you, Lydianne. Rather than living alone again, I would strongly encourage you to reunite with the family you left behind after Aden’s funeral. Have you had any contact with them?”
Lydianne’s head jerked as she stared at him. “No,” she replied with a vehemence that widened his eyes. “They made their condemnation very clear, and I can’t think their attitude about me will have changed in the years since I went away. Even if my sisters might be curious about my whereabouts, they’d go along with their husbands’ insistence that I shamed them by leading Aden into temptation.”
Jeremiah frowned. “Where’s the forgiveness in that?”
“If you’d like to ask them that question, go right ahead,” Lydianne blurted without missing a beat. “But even after all this time has passed, I don’t believe my brothers-in-law—especially Deacon Ralph—will feel inclined to welcome me back. Most likely, they were grateful that I ran off without telling them where I went.”
The small kitchen felt charged with negative energy. Clearly, Lydianne would rather subject herself to the punishment of the Morning Star church district than return to a place where she’d never felt particularly welcome after her parents had passed. Being a maidel and a wage earner and a homeowner suited her better than living under a judgmental brother-in-law’s roof. Even though her previous district’s attitude went against the Old Order’s tenets about supporting unmarried female family members, nothing he could say would make Lydianne’s family take her back on better emotional terms.
“So now that I’ve refused to go along with your second option, Jeremiah—at least if my family’s involved—what’s the third one?”
He blinked. Her question brought Jeremiah out of his musings. “What if you and I get married, Lydianne?” he blurted. “Your secret would be safe with me, and the Nissleys would never have to know—”
“Get married?”
Jeremiah searched her sweet face, heartened by a momentary softening of her beautiful blue eyes even as her tone expressed dismay.
“That’s the worst reason I’ve ever heard of—” With an exasperated sigh, Lydianne rose from her chair. “You’ve put me between a rock and a hard place, Jeremiah. If I don’t marry you, will you force me to go back to my family to preserve the Nissleys’ happy life? If I do become your wife, you’ll be holding my secret over my head every day—”
“I would never do that!” Jeremiah sprang from his seat, distressed by the direction their talk had taken. “I didn’t phrase my idea properly, and I didn’t intend to put you in such a spot, Lydianne. I’m sorry!” he insisted. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and I believe you and I could make a fine life together. Even before you admitted you were Ella’s mother, I had feelings for you. I—I love you so much more than I ever thought possible after I lost Priscilla.”
He sensed he was only digging himself into a deeper pit, but he couldn’t give up. As Jeremiah reached across the table to grasp Lydianne’s hands, he prayed for the words that would make her see him for the man he yearned to be in her eyes.
“Your past is behind you, sweetheart, and I wouldn’t dream of holding it against you,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Please give me a chance to win your heart—to prove I’m not the sort of man who’d try to manipulate you because you had a child out of wedlock. That doesn’t matter to me.”
“But it matters to me, Jeremiah,” she stated, easing her hands out of his. “It feels wrong to marry you as a cover-up. I can’t do that.”
Once again, her outright rejection made his heart shrivel, made his eyes burn—even if she’d made a valid point. It had been one thing to refuse his invitation to the family reunion, but Lydianne had just slammed a much bigger, more important door in his face. He knew better than to keep begging, however.
“Well then, we’ll have to keep talking until we’ve reached a satisfactory solution,” Jeremiah somehow managed to say. He felt as though Mitch had kicked him square in the chest, knocking the breath and the fortitude out of him.
There was no point in lingering, so he took his leave.
As a man, he needed to lick his wounds and recover his dignity. But as a bishop, he had to resolve this conflict in a way that upheld the Old Order and allowed all the involved parties to become right with God again.
It was a tall order. And for the first time since the bishop’s lot had fallen to him several years ago, Jeremiah doubted that he was the right man with the right words to do the right thing.
* * *
As Lydianne watched Jeremiah’s rig roll down her lane toward the road, she regretted the way she’d shut him down. How many times had she dreamed of marrying the handsome bishop, sorry that her secret sin would prevent such a relationship?
But he knows about Ella and he still wants to marry me! He said he couldn’t stop thinking about me—and that he loves me! It would be the answer to all my problems—if my pride didn’t get in the way.
She’d dismissed Jeremiah’s proposal without a moment’s thought, however. She’d been so upset about his suggestion that she reunite with her family, she’d blurted no before his marriage suggestion had even reached her heart.
Worse than that, I hurt his feelings. Sure, Jeremiah didn’t make the romantic, perfectly worded proposal I’ve dreamed of, but he was sincere and genuine. I know what a wonderful, loving husband he would be, yet I slapped him down even after he’d forgiven the sin I’ve been hiding since before I came here.
Lydianne sighed sadly. They were no closer to a solution about how to handle her confession, either. Now it was Jeremiah who was between a rock and a hard place, because she’d so thoughtlessly put him there.
* * *
The next day at school she had to behave as though everything was normal—because as far as her eight scholars were concerned, Ella was back at her desk and all was well. Lydianne, however, had never felt so unprepared. She’d spent her weekend whirling in an emotional tornado rather than planning lessons, so she moved ahead in each of her student’s textbooks, introducing the new spelling lists and vocabulary words for the week. She was grateful for a sunny October day, because recess could be outside, which would give her students the chance to work off steam between their study sessions.
First Light in Morning Star Page 17