“You’re her mamm,” Lydianne put in softly. “It’s a bond that goes beyond blood, and I don’t want to confuse Ella, or make her think she has to choose between us—and I don’t want her comparing the two of us, either. Having two mothers is too much for a six-year-old to handle, I think.”
“I totally agree,” Tim put in with a decisive nod. He focused on Jeremiah as he chose his next words. “Under the circumstances, won’t God understand if we keep this matter amongst ourselves, Bishop? After all, Lydianne has confessed—and we have nothing to forgive her for. She gave us our little Ella, after all.”
Lydianne’s heartbeat stilled. Tim’s compassionate suggestion made her wipe away more tears. The Nissleys were accepting this situation so much better than she’d anticipated—and it made her even more grateful that God had led the social worker to place her newborn baby in their loving home.
“I’m certainly open to that—because you suggested it yourselves,” Jeremiah replied with a nod. “Lydianne has also confessed to me, and she’s told me of her concerns—her insistence that this information doesn’t become a wedge between you and Ella. But what do we do now that the cat’s out of the bag?” he asked. “Ella heard what she heard, and she’s already repeating it.”
“Jah, she’s a chatterbox, and she’ll be telling everyone that Teacher Lydianne’s her mamm,” Julia confirmed with a sigh. “It won’t be long before the other preachers demand answers, and they’ll be a lot more likely to insist upon shunning Lydianne—no matter what we want.”
“We’ll start by correcting Ella’s story the minute we pick her up from the Waglers’ place,” Tim said, taking his wife’s hand between his.
“And we’ll point out that she shouldn’t have been eavesdropping on Lydianne and the Bishop’s conversation in the first place!” Julia interjected.
“—and that she must stop telling it,” Tim continued firmly. “Whenever any of us hears someone suggest that Lydianne is Ella’s mother, we need to set them straight right away. We have to have our words ready, so that whoever’s speculating about this situation will believe it’s just the mistaken story of a six-year-old with a big, wishful imagination.”
Jeremiah was nodding. “The fact that you folks, as Ella’s parents, are correcting her story will have a much bigger impact than if Lydianne—or I—insisted Ella heard us wrong.”
When the bishop focused on Lydianne, she couldn’t miss the love that shone in his eyes. “Are you all right with this solution? We all might have to cover these tracks a lot of times—”
“But I think correcting the story—even if it means we’re not telling folks the whole truth—is the best thing for Ella right now,” Lydianne remarked. “It means I’ll have to have my words ready, as you’ve said. But if all four of us insist that Ella’s imagination has run away with her—”
“Again,” Julia put in emphatically.
“—I think the questions will eventually stop,” Lydianne finished. “Then, one of these days when you’re ready, you can talk to Ella about being adopted, and you can choose whether to tell her about me. I promise I’ll stay out of it until you want me involved. And I’ll understand if you don’t.”
As the Nissleys nodded in agreement, a wave of relief washed over Lydianne. They didn’t want her to be shunned. They didn’t want her to stop teaching, or to leave Morning Star. They had praised her ability to teach the scholars, and they believed everyone else in the community felt she was doing a good job, too. Their reaction to her situation was better than she could have hoped or prayed for—better than she deserved.
“Denki so much for your understanding,” Lydianne murmured as she gazed at Ella’s mamm and dat. “It’s a privilege to teach your daughter—and I promise to start thinking of her as your daughter. It means so much to be near Ella and to be a part of her life, even if she’ll never know who I really am.”
Julia nodded, too moved to speak. Tim reached out to shake Jeremiah’s hand, and then Lydianne’s.
“I’m glad we’ve reached a conclusion that preserves all we—and Ella—hold dear,” he said. “Denki for opening your soul to us, Lydianne. We’ll fetch Ella now, and immediately correct what she overheard—”
“And we’ll insist that she stop telling the story,” Julia reiterated. She smiled at Jeremiah. “I feel God’s been here amongst us, and that He’ll lead us where we need to go over the coming years, Bishop. We’re fortunate to have you—and Lydianne—as leaders in our community.”
Lydianne rose from her chair to accompany the Nissleys to the door, waving as they drove off in their rig. Jeremiah was standing behind her, close enough that she felt the warmth of his tall, strong body. She felt protected and cherished.
“That went so much better than it might have,” she remarked with a short laugh.
“But it’s not over,” he reminded her gently. “When other folks hear Ella’s story and start looking closely, comparing her face to yours, they’ll reach the same conclusion I did. Tim sees the resemblance, after all.”
“Jah, but we should also point out that Ella looks very much like the fair-haired Nissleys, too—to reinforce the belief that they are her parents,” Lydianne said. “Because as far as Ella knows, they are her birth parents.”
When she turned and Jeremiah cupped her jaw in his large, warm hand, Lydianne’s heart fluttered.
“You did a brave and loving thing, coming here to be with your child,” he whispered. “It’s only one of the reasons I love you, Lydianne.”
She held her breath, unable to look away from his gaze. For the first time, her heart was willing to accept that such an upstanding, honorable man could find her desirable—and worthy of his love. She no longer feared that he might hold her past over her head to keep her where he wanted her. “Denki for standing by me,” she murmured shyly.
His handsome face softened as he leaned toward her. “I hope to be standing by you for a long, long time, Sunshine.” He brushed her lips with his. “Think about that, will you?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
As Jeremiah walked toward his rig, he kicked himself for kissing Lydianne, probably making her feel pressured after an emotionally draining conversation with the Nissleys. If he wasn’t careful—if he didn’t show more control—he might also fire up the grapevine. Gossip could force Teacher Lydianne to have to answer even more questions than they anticipated about the story Ella was spreading. The impressionable little girl had caught them alone together, after all.
But Lydianne looked so receptive. She looked grateful for my support. She looked so beautiful even though she’s ’s exhausted and—hey, it wasn’t nearly the kind of kiss I really wanted to—
“Jeremiah? Wait!”
The way Lydianne called his name made his heart prance like a frisky colt. When he turned, she was on the schoolhouse stoop, shielding her eyes from the rays of the setting sun. Her gaze didn’t waver as she looked at him.
“Jah?” he asked, sounding painfully hopeful.
When Lydianne started toward him, Jeremiah had a heady sense that his world was about to take a huge turn for the better. Her smile appeared vulnerable and a bit shy, yet her steps didn’t falter.
“I—I’d really like to invite you to supper, Jeremiah, but there’s nothing much to eat and the house is messy and I—”
“Sounds like a fine night for me to get a pizza and a salad uptown,” he suggested. He hoped he hadn’t overstepped by inviting himself to her house—or incorrectly assumed she was as open to their relationship as he was.
Lydianne’s blue eyes widened with gratitude. “That would be perfect. And maybe, for once, we’ll actually get to eat a meal uninterrupted.”
“Sounds a lot better than going into the pizza place, where any number of folks we know might see us,” he remarked. “Of course, I would be proud to be seen with you—”
“Not yet. Right now, my emotions feel as fragile as a spider web. People’s assumptions at seeing us together are more than I want to handle.”
Suddenly, Jeremiah felt infused with the setting sun’s warmth and bright splendor. This day was ending a lot better than it could have, and for that he was grateful to God—and to Lydianne, for giving him another chance. “I understand,” he said with a nod. “What if I head into town and get our supper ordered, and I’ll be at your place right after they box it up for me?”
Her eager nod, so childlike and happy, sent his heart into somersaults. Lydianne was such a delightful young woman, easy to please and able to move forward despite the unexpected surprises that had come at her since last Friday. Jeremiah reminded himself that if he rushed ahead in this relationship, however, she might slap him down again—maybe for good this time.
“It’s such a relief that you know about me now, yet you . . . you don’t hold any of my secrets against me,” she explained softly. “Ever since I knew I was carrying Ella—and even after I gave her up—I believed my future as a maidel alone was pretty much set in concrete. What man would have me, if he ever found out about my past?”
“I would,” Jeremiah immediately whispered. He reached out to stroke her cheek, yearning for a deep, serious kiss to commemorate this moment. But it wasn’t the right time or place. “How about if we talk more about this at your place? You have school tomorrow, so I promise I won’t stay very late—although I really want to.”
Lydianne glanced back toward the schoolhouse. “I’ll gather up my books and head home now. I’m too keyed up to write tomorrow’s lesson lists on the board anyway. See you when you get there.”
Jeremiah got into his rig with a fresh spring in his step. He reminded himself that they were only sharing a simple supper and some conversation—and the conversation needed to stay light. This was no time to gallop ahead and tell Lydianne that another reason he loved her was because she could give him children—
Don’t lay that on her yet! After losing her fiancé and enduring her fam ily’s judgment and giving up her child to start a new life—and then having to confess that Ella is her child—Lydianne has had more than enough domestic drama. She needs to know I love her for who she is rather than for what she can give me.
As a bishop who’d dealt with other people’s personal problems for years, Jeremiah knew the voice in his head—which might well be the voice of God—was right.
But as a man, he had dreams. After years of longing for a family and then losing Priscilla, he rejoiced in the chance to start afresh.
He had to bide his time, however. Patience was a virtue that could help him avoid more false starts with Lydianne. And once the folks in their church district realized he was courting her, a whole new set of expectations would come into play. He and Lydianne would be living in a fishbowl, with everyone wondering how soon they would marry—and, consequently, how soon their children would need to adjust to a new teacher.
But you’re putting the cart before the horse again. Just get that pizza and enjoy a quiet—short—evening with the wonderful woman who finally wants to be with you.
About an hour later, Jeremiah urged his buggy horse into a canter, headed toward Lydianne’s house just outside Morning Star’s main business district. The aromas of sausage, cheese, and spices drifted from the box on the seat beside him, and he was suddenly famished—but for more than mere pizza.
How long had it been since he’d enjoyed the company of a woman who would require his best behavior? Being a married man had allowed him to slip into a comfortable routine with a wife who’d known his habits, preferences, and foibles—and had loved him anyway. And living with his mother had spoiled him in other ways, because he’d never needed to impress Mamm or tell her his preferences.
With Lydianne, he’d have to rethink his assumptions. He’d need to make room in his heart and home for a woman with tastes that would differ from Priscilla’s.
Will she want to use her own dishes and kitchen equipment? Will she want to make changes in my house so it will feel like home to her? What if she wants to remain in her own home, the way Regina did?
Jeremiah laughed at himself, shaking his head to clear it of questions that didn’t yet require answers. Tired as he was from Ella’s disappearance and Lydianne’s recent revelations, he felt like a new man as he guided Mitch up the lane toward the yellow house nestled among trees adorned in autumn’s glorious colors. After he hitched his horse at the side of her home and bounded up onto her porch, Lydianne’s voice came through the screen door.
“Come on in, Jeremiah!”
He was so ready to hear that. He stepped into the front room with their dinner and looked around. There wasn’t a sign of a stray newspaper or any books strewn on the floor or coffee table, as was often the case at his place. A crocheted afghan was perfectly centered on the sofa. A battery lamp glowed in welcome on an end table. “For a house that’s supposedly so messy, your place looks very neat and tidy to me, Lydianne,” he called out.
When she appeared in the kitchen doorway, drying her hands on a white flour sack towel, her smile was catlike. “Don’t open any closets,” she warned with a lifted eyebrow. “All the clutter I just crammed into them will fall out and knock you flat.”
Jeremiah laughed loudly. When Lydianne’s laughter mingled with his, it filled his soul with a mirth he’d forgotten how to feel—so he kept laughing as he approached her. When he slipped his arm around her shoulders, still chuckling, she stepped into his embrace as though it were a longtime habit instead of something new and exhilarating.
When Lydianne gazed up at him, he forgot everything else. When he kissed her, softly at first, her willing lips moved with his in such a perfect fit that Jeremiah deepened the kiss and poured all his hopes and dreams into it. Moments later, he heard the pizza bag hit the floor, but he didn’t care.
Lydianne was in his arms. She was clinging to him, returning his affection in a way that sent his body into a state of eager need. It would be so simple, so natural to remove her kapp, to pluck the pins that held her long, blond hair—
Her gasp brought Jeremiah back to his senses.
“Oh, but we can’t go down this road right now,” she rasped as she reluctantly stepped away from him. “The last time I did, I had Ella, after all.”
Jeremiah inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known better than to—”
“Don’t be sorry. We’ve both needed that kiss for a long time,” she whispered. She smoothed her apron, as if to set her emotions to rights along with her clothing. “How about if we pick our dinner up off the floor and go sit with a kitchen table between us. That sounds a lot safer, jah?”
He chuckled. As the older, more experienced person in the room—not to mention as the bishop—he hadn’t expected Lydianne to set the boundaries for their behavior when they were alone together.
But thank God she did. It would’ve been so easy to forget all about food . . .
“You’re a wise woman, Miss Christner,” he murmured as he stooped to grasp the bag’s handles. “Maybe that’s why you’re the teacher and I’m suddenly feeling like a smitten schoolboy again, jah?”
As they entered her kitchen, Jeremiah noted that it was much smaller than the ones in most Amish homes—but then, why would a woman living alone need as many cabinets or a table that expanded to seat ten or twelve family members? He waited for Lydianne to choose one of the chairs that had a plate in front of it, then sat down across from her. Jeremiah felt her gaze as he took the pizza box and the container of salad from the bag.
“I’m feeling as tossed as that salad,” Lydianne admitted with a little laugh. “At least the lid stayed closed.”
“We have a lot to be thankful for,” Jeremiah agreed as he opened the cardboard box in the center of the table. “The pizza stayed intact, too. Pretty much, anyway,” he added as he straightened the slices that had flipped on top of others.
When he bowed his head, he reached across the table for her hand—just as he’d done with Priscilla for so many years. It felt exactly right to have Lydianne’s fingers curled around his while
they shared a silent prayer before their meal. Her gentle grasp centered him, helping him focus on the moment despite the way the aromas of warm sausage and cheese made his stomach rumble.
Lord, this is Your doing, and I’m so grateful for this chance to laugh and love again. Help me not to mess it up.
When he opened his eyes, Lydianne was gazing at him with such a gentle smile, Jeremiah knew he would feel at home no matter where he was, as long as she was with him. As they ate, he purposely kept the conversation light, mostly centered on the upcoming activities she was planning for the scholars as the holidays approached. They were each picking up a third piece of pizza when loud banging on the front door startled them.
Wide-eyed, Lydianne rose to answer the knock while Jeremiah got up to peer out the kitchen window. He let out a sigh when he recognized the rig parked alongside Mitch—and heard familiar voices in the front room.
Deacon Saul said, “Lydianne, I regret our need to barge in and bother you—”
“But we’ve heard a very interesting story,” Martha Maude interrupted in a strident tone. “We came here right away to hear what you have to say about it.”
Jeremiah closed his eyes wearily, regretting this intrusion even though he wasn’t particularly surprised about it. Before the Hartzlers could trap Lydianne in a conversational corner, he went out to greet them. They’d seen Mitch, so they already knew he was here.
“Good evening, folks,” he said as nonchalantly as he could. “We were just having some pizza after a rather unsettling day. Care to join us?”
Two sets of curious eyes gazed first at Lydianne and then at him, as the deacon and his outspoken mother drew their silent conclusions about his presence in Lydianne’s kitchen.
“Would your unsettling day have anything to do with the exciting news Ella was telling us about?” Martha Maude asked. “I was helping Rose with baby Suzanna when Ella burst into the kitchen with Gracie after school. The first words out of her mouth were about you being her mother, Lydianne. She sounded absolutely certain about this—said she’d heard you talking about it—”
First Light in Morning Star Page 19