Billy Jay sniffled loudly. “Dat sent me here to tellya that—that Mammi Elva didn’t wake up this morning,” he said as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I knew somethin’ was wrong when I woke up and I couldn’t smell no breakfast, and baby Levi was bawlin’ his head off and—”
“Give me a minute to hitch up the buggy and we’ll be on our way,” Jeremiah said, looking at his mother.
“If you’ll go out and help Jeremiah with the horse, honey-boy, I’ll pack us up some breakfast to take along,” Mamm suggested gently. “Won’t take me but a minute.”
Flashing his mother a grateful smile, Jeremiah grabbed his jacket and started toward the stable with Billy Jay close behind him. He recalled Glenn saying how run-down his mamm had been of late—and the remarks Reuben had made Friday evening about her diabetes and heart—but he hadn’t expected her to pass on so quickly.
“Did your mammi fix your supper last night? Was she feeling poorly over the weekend?” he asked Billy Jay as he opened the stable’s wooden plank door.
The boy shook his head. “Dat called for pizza delivery again, coz Mammi was sleepin’ on the couch and couldn’t even give Levi his bottle,” he replied mournfully. “He almost couldn’t wake her up to get her into bed last night.”
Jeremiah wondered if Glenn had considered calling for an ambulance—or had thought about coming to get him last night.
But I wasn’t home, the sharp voice in his head reminded him. Even though Jeremiah knew he couldn’t be present every time a church member needed him, he still felt bad when couldn’t help his friends.
He focused on hitching up the horse, and when Mamm came out with a picnic basket, he set it in the back of the rig. It didn’t take but five minutes to drive to the Detweiler farm, but he couldn’t imagine the fear and worry that must’ve propelled Billy Jay along the road, running at top speed to get help while Glenn managed the crisis at home along with a wailing baby and his elderly father.
When they got to the house, Mamm and Billy Jay immediately followed Levi’s ear-splitting cries to find him. Jeremiah set the picnic basket on the kitchen floor and stopped to place his hand on the slumped figure at the table. He prayed that Reuben hadn’t had a heart attack from the shock of waking up beside his dead wife.
“Reuben, I’m mighty sorry,” he said as he pulled up a chair.
With a forlorn sigh, Reuben raised his head. “I knew the minute she went,” he whispered. “I couldn’t hardly sleep for worrying about her—she’d refused to go to the emergency room when Glenn asked her to—so when she shuddered all over and stopped breathing, I knew she’d gone home to the Lord.”
Reuben’s smile was bittersweet. “Elva never wanted to trouble anybody, you know. It was three-fifteen, and how was Glenn gonna get the undertaker at that hour?” he reasoned wearily. “So, I just stayed beside her until the baby woke up, wanting to be fed.”
Jeremiah was momentarily speechless. What a great depth of love this poor elderly fellow had felt for his wife, that he was comfortable remaining beside her lifeless body in bed. “Sounds like she had a peaceful passing beside the man she loved, and now she’s claimed her reward,” Jeremiah murmured. “It’s the best Elva could hope for, but it’s tough on the rest of us. How’s Glenn?”
“He’s called the funeral home, but I haven’t seen him since he came in.” Reuben’s bushy eyebrows rose as he looked toward the front room. “Well, now. Levi’s quieter. That’s a relief.”
Jeremiah nodded. “I’ll go check on Glenn and the baby. Mamm brought some breakfast—she’ll get you something as soon as she can.”
“No need to eat,” Reuben remarked with a shrug. “What with Elva gone, I won’t be around much longer anyway.”
He’d heard many an elderly spouse express the same sentiment after their mate passed, so he didn’t try to talk Reuben out of his depression. As he rose from the table, his mother entered the kitchen with baby Levi hiccupping against her shoulder and Billy Jay following her like a shadow.
“If you’ll find me the goat’s milk, we’ll warm a bottle,” she was saying to the beleaguered boy. “You can feed him on the couch, or we’ll have your dat do that while I heat up the breakfast casserole and the sweet rolls I brought along.”
“The goat’s milk’s in the fridge—gut thing Leah brought us a fresh batch yesterday,” Billy Jay said. “If you warm it on the stove, I can feed him. I was Mammi’s best helper at takin’ care of the baby.”
“I know you were, sweetie,” Mamm said approvingly.
Sending her a grateful smile, Jeremiah went into the front room in search of Glenn. Flat boxes on the coffee table—with a few congealed slices of pizza still in them—and the scattered toys and newspapers attested to the fact that Elva hadn’t been able to keep up with the clutter lately. After he’d poked his head into all the downstairs rooms, he started up the wooden steps.
“Glenn, it’s Jeremiah,” he called out. “Bet you could use some breakfast, and Mamm’ll have it ready in a few.”
No reply.
From his times of meeting with the preachers before a church service, he knew to turn left at the top of the stairs. His friend stood at the window in the first bedroom, silhouetted against the brilliant pink clouds that glowed with the sunrise.
“I’m sorry you’re having such a rough time of it these past few months, Glenn,” Jeremiah said from the doorway. He hesitated to intrude upon his friend’s privacy in this haven Glenn and Dorcas had shared when she was alive, so he focused on practicalities. “Your dat says you’ve called Griggs Mortuary. Can I make any other calls for you? Your sister, maybe?”
“Already called her. Sadie says her family can be here by Tuesday if they leave this afternoon.” Glenn’s voice sounded distant and hollow, as though he was speaking from inside a well. “Griggs should be here any time now to take Mamm’s—ah, there’s the hearse now, coming down the road.”
Glenn’s sigh could’ve been the wind riffling the cedar trees in the cemetery. “Mamm was the glue that held us together after Dorcas passed—the only person who kept me going from one day into the next,” he remarked in a broken voice. “I don’t know how we’ll manage—”
“It’s not the same as having your mamm, but the women will get together at church today and organize a schedule,” Jeremiah assured him. “You’ll have meals, and help with Levi and the laundry, and every other bit of assistance we can give you, Glenn. You’ll not face this alone.”
When Glenn turned, his face was haggard and his expression was harsh. “Easy for you to say, now that Lydianne’s picked you instead of me,” he muttered. “You have no idea how I’d counted on having her to help me raise my boys and get my life back on track.”
His remark stabbed like a knife, even though Jeremiah knew that intense grief was partly responsible for the rancor behind it. And at least Glenn had pointed out that Lydianne had made her choice, rather than blaming Jeremiah for stealing her away from him.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said softly. “My mother should have some breakfast ready shortly, if you’d care for some after the hearse leaves.”
As he descended the stairs, his mind was a whirlwind of mixed emotions. He nodded encouragement to Billy Jay, who sat patiently on the couch with his sleeping baby brother against his shoulder. Jeremiah grimaced when he saw the clock on the kitchen wall. “Church starts in twenty minutes—”
“I warmed you some of the casserole, and here’s a pineapple cream cheese roll,” his mother said, pointing toward a plate on the table. “You’ll not get through the service very well without eating something—and under the circumstances, who’s going to kick you out of church for not wearing your gut clothes today?”
Despite his misgivings, Jeremiah smiled. Wasn’t it just like his mother to cut to the chase and point out the proper priorities? “Billy Jay has finished feeding the baby,” he remarked softly. “The hearse is coming down the lane, so maybe you should sit with him while they do their business.”
&nb
sp; After Mamm nodded and went out to the front room, Jeremiah slipped his arm around Reuben’s shoulders. “Griggs will be here in a minute. Where do you prefer to be while they take Elva’s body?”
Reuben blinked with comprehension, wiping his eyes. “I’m fine right here. I—I’ve said my gut-bye until the funeral.”
Nodding, Jeremiah went to the front door to greet the two men who got out of the hearse and unfolded a gurney. He saw that his mother had taken Billy Jay into the back room with the baby, and when the men entered the house, he directed them upstairs. “Elva’s son Glenn is up there. You might want to give him a minute with her,” he suggested softly.
His breakfast awaited him when he returned to sit with Glenn’s dat. “Better eat, Bishop,” Reuben said. “I can tell you that Elva’s real sorry she’s caused all this commotion while you’re getting ready for church—”
“Don’t be concerned about that. The preachers can run things without me,” Jeremiah put in softly. He slid the plate of warm rolls in front of his longtime friend to entice him with their fruity-sweet aroma. “Why don’t you join me, Reuben? Better try these rolls before Billy Jay spots them. They’re soft and sweet and melt-in-your-mouth gut.”
Intrigued, Reuben slowly took a roll from the plate. After they prayed briefly, Jeremiah gratefully dug into his warm sausage and egg casserole while Reuben bit into a sweet roll. When he closed his eyes as he chewed, Jeremiah was pleased that he’d at least made Glenn’s dat feel a little better this morning—even if Reuben’s sense of satisfaction would last only as long as he kept eating.
A few minutes after the hearse left, Billy Jay joined his dawdi at the table, so Jeremiah took off for the Flauds’. They only lived about two miles farther down the gravel road that ran past the Detweiler place. As he turned onto the lane, which was lined with unhitched buggies, he could hear voices singing the first hymn in Martin’s big front room. After he put his mare in the pasture with the other buggy horses, Jeremiah slipped in through the kitchen to go upstairs for the preachers’ meeting. Then he noticed that Ammon, Clarence, and Saul were already seated on the preachers’ bench between the men’s and women’s sides of the congregation, ready to begin the service.
Feeling very conspicuous in his brown broadfall trousers and tan shirt, Jeremiah walked down the center aisle just as folks finished singing the hymn. He turned to face them as they closed their hymnals.
“Friends, I’ve just come from the Detweiler place, and I’m sorry to announce that Elva went to meet her Maker around three this morning. She passed peacefully in her sleep with Reuben beside her,” he said in a low voice. “My mamm is staying with Glenn, Reuben, and the boys this morning. I assured them we’d organize your help with chores, meals, and housekeeping after the service today.”
Folks whispered among themselves, surprised and sorry about his news. When Jeremiah raised his hand, they fell silent again. “Shall we pray before we proceed with the service?” he suggested.
“Dear Lord and Father of us all, we thank You for the life of Elva Detweiler, who served as a shining example of servitude her whole life long,” he intoned with his head bowed. “Inspire us to be the best friends her family could possibly have in their time of sadness and help us to live our lives in constant readiness for that glad day when You call each one of us home to You. Amen.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
As Lydianne raised her head at the end of the prayer, she could imagine how desperate the situation at the Detweiler house must be just by looking at Jeremiah’s dear face. The lines bracketing his mouth and fanning around his soulful brown eyes were etched deeper—lines that added such character to his skin, which was bronzed and weathered by his farming. She recognized the clothes he’d worn on their date—perfectly acceptable for socializing, but she could tell Bishop Jeremiah felt out of place in them as he sat before God and the congregation on Sunday morning.
He got called to Glenn’s place while he was getting ready for church. Isn’t it just like Jeremiah to put the needs of a grieving family before his own? He must’ve been such a comfort to them.
As the service progressed, with Preachers Ammon and Clarence delivering lengthy sermons, however, Lydianne couldn’t miss the profound sadness that shadowed Jeremiah’s face. He seemed lost in thought, gazing at the floor most of the service instead of appearing engaged in it. Instinct told her he was feeling something more painful than the concerns of a bishop caring for a family that had just lost a vital member.
After church, Jeremiah called a brief Members Meeting. The women agreed to write up a schedule for providing meals and assistance to Glenn, Reuben, and the boys. The men chimed in with assurances that they’d take care of the livestock chores and repairs that needed to be made around the Detweiler place before winter set in. They knew Glenn wouldn’t have the time or inclination for such things while he was raising his sons and grieving his mamm and his wife—not to mention looking after his father, whose physical and mental health seemed to be declining.
When the meeting broke up and the other women headed for Delores’s kitchen to set out the common meal, Lydianne lingered behind. She waited for a few of the men to finish chatting with Jeremiah before catching his eye. As he made his way between the fellows who were setting up tables, his expression lightened a bit.
“Gut afternoon, Sunshine,” he said quietly. “It was a fine thing to see your encouraging smiles during the service, after the way my day began.”
“I can’t imagine Glenn was doing very well this morning,” Lydianne remarked. “And how’s Reuben holding up?”
“Reuben’s a trouper. I’m a lot more concerned about Glenn, because he’s lost the woman who was holding his life together after Dorcas’s passing.” When Jeremiah rubbed his hand over his face, Lydianne noticed that he hadn’t gotten to finish shaving this morning. “But I found it particularly distressing that he . . . Glenn’s still very angry because you’ve chosen to be with me instead of with him.”
“And he blamed you, didn’t he?”
“Not in so many words, but—”
“I could see it on your face during the service,” Lydianne whispered. She longed to grasp his hand, but thought better of it with other folks around them preparing for the meal. “He thinks his life would fall neatly into place—that all his problems would be solved—if I would marry him and raise his boys.”
Jeremiah smiled wearily. “He has a point.”
“No, he has it wrong,” Lydianne countered, trying to keep her voice low. “Just because he came on like a house afire doesn’t mean I’d ever come to love him—or fit into his fantasy about taking Dorcas’s place. I’ll find a way to clarify that for him again, so Glenn’s not taking out his frustration on you, Jeremiah.”
His embrace took her completely by surprise. Right in the center of the Flaud’s crowded front room, Jeremiah wrapped his arms around Lydianne and lightly rested his head on top of hers. “Denki for understanding my difficult relationship with Glenn right now,” he whispered as he held her close against his tall, sturdy body. “Be gentle with him, though. Any man who’s lost you—and his wife and his mamm and his dreams—is going to feel mighty low. You’re a gut woman to care about his feelings—and mine—Lydianne.”
When they eased apart, everyone was watching them, wearing speculative expressions. Lydianne felt heat creeping into her cheeks, yet she suddenly didn’t mind that these friends had witnessed the emotion Jeremiah had shared with her. With a parting smile for him, she went to the kitchen to help carry platters of food to the tables.
Regina grabbed her playfully by the sleeve. “Well now, I guess we know what that hug meant, ain’t so?” she teased. “And I couldn’t be happier for you.”
“Puh! We saw this coming all along, didn’t we?” Jo put in as she grinned at the Helfing twins. “Lydianne won’t be a maidel much longer—”
“But you won’t marry the bishop until school’s out in the spring, jah?” Lucy Miller was holding a pitcher of water in each
hand, sounding worried about her future schooling. Lorena Flaud stood wide-eyed beside her, as though she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.
The kitchen fell silent as the other women, gripping utensils and platters, turned to hear Lydianne’s answer. She saw happiness on their faces, yet the mothers of scholars also looked as concerned as Lucy had sounded.
“That’s exactly right, Lucy,” Lydianne replied as she slipped an arm around each of her two oldest students. “Nothing’s to be gained by marrying in haste—and I believe in seeing my commitments through. I fully intend to watch you both complete your studies.”
Lorena hugged her tightly and then began clapping. The rest of the ladies burst into applause, as well. It was the moment that marked the end of Lydianne’s private relationship with Jeremiah and the beginning of her official journey toward becoming the bishop’s wife.
Never mind that he hasn’t asked me yet. That’s between him and me—with God as our witness, she reminded herself with a smile.
* * *
Four days later, as the crowd of mourners stood around Elva Detweiler’s open grave to bid her farewell, Lydianne prayed for the bereaved family—and for guidance. The gray day matched the congregation’s somber mood as Jeremiah made a few closing remarks about Elva’s service to her Lord, and how she stood as a shining example of a soul who’d devoted her time and energy to her family.
After the pallbearers lowered Elva’s plain pine coffin into its final resting place, folks took turns tossing shovelfuls of soil into the grave. As they stepped up, they were careful not to trip over the five small, rounded headstones that marked the young Detweiler children who’d preceded their mother in death.
Lydianne stole a glance at Glenn’s older sister, Sadie Shank. Sadie stood between her brother and her husband, Ivan, alongside Reuben and a very subdued Billy Jay. The Shanks’s four older children stood huddled behind them, looking unsure of how to handle the rituals of death and burial. The birth of the twins that Sadie and Ivan held in basket carriers had kept the family from coming to Morning Star for Dorcas’s funeral three and a half months ago—and because the Shanks lived in Indiana, Lydianne had only seen Sadie a few times. With her dark hair and eyebrows, she closely resembled Glenn, yet Lydianne was struck by the sense of determined purpose that had displaced the grief on Sadie’s face.
First Light in Morning Star Page 24