A Mother's Gift
Page 2
Jude gripped the back of the wooden chair he’d just vacated, gazing intently at Jeremiah in the dimness. “What you and Mamm are really saying is that Leah must change—a lot—before you believe she’ll make a gut wife and stepmother,” he said in a voice edged with resentment. “I’ll say it again, Jeremiah: I love Leah just the way she is. The traits you and our mother find undesirable—unsuitable—are the things I adore most about her. Leah is a woman of faith who dares to be herself, rather than trying to fit the mold of Old Order expectations.”
“And by the same token, it’s our communal conformity to Old Order ways that keeps any of us from calling undue attention to ourselves, or earning a reputation for being prideful—not that I believe Leah works with livestock to attract attention or to set herself above anyone else.” Sighing, Jeremiah rose and offered Jude his hand. “Nobody wants your marriage to succeed more than I do,” he said softly. “I’ll see you in Cedar Creek bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Jude gripped his fingers. “Mark my words, Jeremiah. This is one of those conversations we’ll look back on years from now and chuckle about, after Leah and I are established and deliriously happy,” he said with a boyish smile.
“I hope you’re right. I’ll pray you’re right,” Jeremiah added purposefully.
After his brother had closed the door behind him, the silence of the house weighed heavily on Jeremiah. Once again, he felt acutely aware of Priscilla’s absence, just as he knew that tomorrow’s wedding would be an occasion for the men in his Morning Star church district to tease him about when he planned to court and marry somebody. As the bishop, he was expected to follow the pattern of the families in his congregation—to find another wife and to raise children.
For reasons only God knew, He hadn’t granted Jeremiah and Priscilla any kids during their eighteen years of marriage, and Jeremiah secretly wondered if he could find it in his heart to marry a widow who already had a family. He knew of a few Amish women around Morning Star and Cedar Creek who fit that description—as well as a few who’d remained maidels because no man had felt compelled to court them. When Jeremiah saw their earnest faces in his mind, he still didn’t feel ready to replace his dear Priscilla. Who would ever measure up to the love of his life?
“I’ll say this for you, Leah,” he murmured, “you have guts enough—faith enough—to take on Jude’s three kids, even if I suspect you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
Jeremiah shook his head when he realized he was talking to himself again. Living alone in so much silence did funny things to a man’s mind.
Without lighting a lamp, he made his way upstairs to his bedroom, thinking about what positive points he might make during his sermon before he led Jude and Leah in their vows. He hoped God would whisper encouraging words in his ear—words that would support the newlyweds and persuade folks in the congregation to believe the best about them.
I’m asking for a lot, Lord, Jeremiah thought as he climbed into bed. But I believe You have a plan and You’re working it out even as we humans doubt You.
Chapter 2
After Bishop Vernon preached the wedding sermon, Leah rose from the front pew bench on the women’s side, praying she wouldn’t trip over her stiff high-top bridal shoes as she joined Jude in front of Bishop Jeremiah. Beneath the calf-length teal dress and white apron Mama had sewn for her wedding day, Leah’s legs were shaking and her mouth felt so dry, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to repeat her vows. She knew every person who sat in the front room of her lifelong home, which had been enlarged by removing a couple of interior partitions, yet being the center of their attention made her feel so nervous that she might as well have been naked. More than once during the church service that had preceded the wedding, Leah had realized that showing contrary livestock in a crowded auction barn was much easier than standing before these family members and friends to make the biggest promise of her lifetime—second only to the vow she’d made to God when she’d joined the Old Order Amish church.
Yet when Jude smiled at her, Leah forgot to be afraid.
He’d trimmed the black beard that framed his handsome face, and he’d gotten his hair cut, too. Beneath his dark brows, his warm brown eyes sparkled as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. Leah felt his strength seeping into her as she held his muscled arm, and she suddenly believed she could fly to the moon if it were required—and if Jude flew with her. Leah realized then that her thoughts were wandering and that folks would be laughing at her behind their hands if she didn’t focus on the words Bishop Jeremiah was saying.
“Jude and Leah, your time of courtship and exploring each other’s personalities and intentions has led you to this moment of truth—this sacrament from which there will be no retraction or retreat, once you’ve taken your marriage vows,” the bishop intoned gently. His dark eyes, very similar to Jude’s but set in a slightly older face, held each of their gazes. “You have completed your time of premarital instruction, and it behooves me to ask you one final time if you’re certain you wish to move forward into this marriage. If so, say ‘I am.’ ”
Leah swallowed hard. Was Jude’s brother giving them one last chance to back out of a marriage about which he and some other folks had expressed doubts? Or did every bishop ask this question before beginning the ceremony, and she hadn’t noticed it at the weddings she’d attended?
Answer the question—before Jude thinks you don’t love him!
“I—I am,” Leah stammered at the same moment Jude replied.
“I most certainly am,” he said firmly. Jude smiled at Leah again, and her heart fluttered with nervous joy.
Bishop Jeremiah nodded before gazing at the men seated at his left and then at the women who sat facing them. “If anyone here knows of any reason why this man and this woman should not be united in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,” he said in his sonorous voice.
Leah felt her pulse pound in her ears four times as she waited for someone—Mama maybe, or Margaret—to protest their union. On the front bench, her side-sitters, Adeline and Alice, looked around as though to spot any potential naysayers. Leah wished the twins would meet her gaze and smile—or at least look at their dat—but they seemed more interested in peering at the young men on the other side of the room.
“Hearing no response,” the bishop continued smoothly, “I will remind you all that once Jude and Leah marry, you’ll have no reason—no right—to speak ill of their marriage or to question the strength of the bond that binds them as husband and wife, because their union will have been sanctified by God Himself. What God is joining, let no man—or woman—put asunder.”
The room got so quiet, Leah wondered if every person present could hear her thundering heartbeat. Overwhelmed by the solemnity of the moment and the way the bishop seemed to be pointing up the potential for their marriage to fail, she focused intently on Jeremiah as she carefully repeated the vows he led her in. She would not cave in to the doubts of those around her—
But maybe they know better than you do. Why on earth would a wonderful, handsome man like Jude choose you when he could have any woman he wanted for a wife?
“—till death do us part,” Leah repeated loudly, before her twinge of doubt could spoil all her hopes and dreams.
Jude placed his hand over hers, to reassure her—or perhaps because she was squeezing his arm too tightly.
Leah relaxed her grip and sucked in air to keep from passing out. She had said her vows, and somehow she hadn’t messed up the words and made a total fool of herself. Or at least she didn’t think she’d misspoken—her thoughts were spinning so tightly, she could only trust the encouraging nods from the congregation that showed no sign she’d made a mistake.
As Jude repeated the same words after Bishop Jeremiah, she marveled at his confidence. His resonant baritone voice filled the room with each age-old phrase, leaving no doubt about his sincerity or his deep, unshakable love for her. By the time he’d completed his part of
the ceremony, Leah felt amazed—overwhelmingly gratified—that such a steadfast man was promising to love and cherish her forever. She’d adored Jude since her early teen years, but as Bishop Jeremiah pronounced them husband and wife, Leah thrummed with so much joy that for the first time in her life she felt utterly, stunningly beautiful.
“I love you so much, Leah,” Jude whispered. “December first will forever be my favorite day of the year.” He lifted her chin and then held her close, pressing his warm lips into hers.
Leah wanted to savor their first kiss as a married couple—the first time Jude had kissed her in public—yet she was acutely aware that several people were watching them. When she broke away sooner than she wanted to, the question in Jude’s eyes stabbed at her heart. Not married even a minute, and already you’ve disappointed him—
“I—I love you, too, Jude,” Leah murmured, putting on a tremulous smile. “Just nervous, with all these people watching.”
“I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Judah Shetler!” Bishop Jeremiah announced grandly. He began to clap, and soon the room was filled with applause. When Leah turned with Jude to face the crowd, she was glad her new husband had his arm around her to support her. Her legs still felt as wobbly as a newborn calf’s, and the speculative expressions she noted on some of the ladies’ faces gave her pause.
Do they really believe I’m the wrong woman for Jude? Do they think I’m the wrong woman for any man?
Leah was grateful for the business of signing the marriage certificate, and for the congratulatory remarks her Cedar Creek neighbors were calling out to her and Jude. After she’d stepped over to the oak sideboard to write her name, she handed the pen to Jude, who signed with a flourish.
“Next!” Jude said as he gave the pen to one of his daughters—Leah wasn’t sure which one, because the twins appeared identical from the top of their fresh white kapps to their dark aqua cape dresses and white aprons to their black church shoes.
“Denki for being my side-sitters today,” Leah said as the two sisters signed. “It means a lot to have you girls stand with me as family—”
“Jah, sure thing,” one of the twins said with a shrug.
“Whatever,” the other girl remarked in an identical off-hand tone. The two of them quickly disappeared into the crowd of chatting guests.
Jude shook his head as he handed the pen to Gabe Flaud, a longtime friend who’d stood up with him. “I’m so glad my girls have a new mamm,” he said with a big smile for Leah. “This couldn’t-care-less phase they’re going through is testing my patience.”
Gabe chuckled. “I’ve got teenage sisters who have the same attitude at times,” he said. “My mother’s remedy for that is giving them more barn chores until they beg her to just do housework again.”
Leah laughed along with the men, unable to imagine Alice and Adeline going to the barn unless they were hitching a horse to their buggy to leave Jude’s farm for a while. She would need to establish a way to handle the twins’ aloofness, but she was determined to enjoy her wedding day—which seemed to be speeding by—rather than fretting over teenage behavior while her family and friends were gathered to help her celebrate. Her mother’s bright smile raised her spirits immediately.
“Oh, Leah, I’m so happy for you and Jude,” Mama said as she wrapped her arms around both of them. “I wish you health and happiness and all of God’s blessings as you begin your life together.”
“Hear, hear,” a man behind them said. When Leah turned toward his rich, low voice, she was enfolded in Bishop Vernon Gingerich’s embrace as he heartily shook hands with Jude. Vernon was well acquainted with Jude because he often bought Black Angus heifers and calves at area auctions. “It’s a particular pleasure to see you two become a couple,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling as he smiled at both of them. “I know Raymond’s smiling down from heaven because two like-minded souls he always loved have now become one.”
The mention of her dat’s name made tears spring to Leah’s eyes because he hadn’t lived long enough to see her married. She saw Mama’s smile falter as well—but only for a moment.
“Raymond always admired Jude’s ability to coax higher prices from the crowds at livestock auctions, and to sell a lot of animals in a short time,” Mama put in with a nod.
Jude chuckled. “He thought I was a fast talker, eh?” he teased, winking at Leah.
Bishop Vernon laughed. “You’re the finest auctioneer in these parts, Jude. I have no idea how you can chant so fast—and for as many hours as a sale requires—but I suspect some folks in my congregation wish I could speak that quickly, to shorten my sermons.”
As the folks around them laughed at Bishop Vernon’s joke, Leah’s heart lightened. She gazed at Jude, and it finally hit her that the hopes and dreams of most of her lifetime had come true on this much-anticipated day.
“This is the day which the Lord hath made. We will rejoice and be glad in it!”
Leah smiled. Bishop Vernon often began his preaching by exclaiming that verse from Psalm 118, and it inspired her to rise above the doubts that had been niggling at her like naughty little girls gossiping during church. She had married Jude because she believed in him, after all. Leah had utmost faith in his ability to provide for her and to weave the separate members of his household into a tightly bound family as warm and secure as one of Mama’s beautiful quilts, or one of the rag rugs Margaret had made for the Shetler home.
She saw her mother-in-law step away from the friends who’d clustered around her at the end of the wedding. Margaret Shetler stood taller than most women, and because her face rarely showed emotion, she was a hard person to read—a bit intimidating and stern, no matter what the occasion, it seemed to Leah. But Leah smiled at her as she approached, wiggling her fingers at Stevie, who was clutching his mammi’s hand as he shuffled along beside her, sucking his thumb. The little boy appeared so overwhelmed by the crowd and the day’s activities, Leah couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.
“Stevie, you were so well behaved during the long service and the wedding this morning,” Leah said as she leaned down to smooth his glossy brown hair. “I’m proud of you.”
Stevie flinched and immediately pressed his face into his dat’s trousers.
Jude lifted him to one shoulder, hugging him. “You were as quiet as a mouse,” he agreed, smiling at his son. “Your new mamm loves you, Stevie. There’s no need to be afraid of her.”
When the boy buried his face in Jude’s black vest and white shirt collar, Margaret’s eyebrow arched. “We have a ways to go before he can believe that,” she stated. She gazed intently at Leah, as though seeing all the way into her heart and finding it lacking. “After I take the twins and Stevie to spend a few days at Jeremiah’s while you newlyweds settle in, they’ll return home, but I’ve decided to take up residence in Jeremiah’s dawdi haus again. I don’t want to be the intruding mother-in-law, you see.”
Leah forgot how to breathe. Panic immobilized her as she recalled her assumptions that Margaret would handle the cooking and the housekeeping and—
“You’re welcome to stay with us, Mamm,” Jude insisted above the rush of Leah’s desperate thoughts. “You’ve been a lifeline in our time of need, and I couldn’t have kept body and soul together after Frieda’s death, had you not stepped in.”
“Let me know if I can be of assistance, but I’ll go back to living with your lonely brother,” Margaret replied without missing a beat. Her smile had a sarcastic edge to it. “Too many cooks spoil the broth.”
“And every blended family deserves a chance to find its new routines,” Mama put in quickly as she tucked her arm around Leah’s waist. “I’m only a few miles away, so I can lend a hand, too. But I believe that Jude, Leah, and the girls will find their way together—and they’ll help Stevie get past the loss of his mother as well.”
Leah silently blessed her mother for supporting her, but Margaret’s sarcastic tone had stung anyway. Too many cooks . . . could she have said anything more cruel?
“I need to help the ladies who’ve agreed to set up for the meal,” Mama said with a purposeful look toward Margaret. “And I want to peek into the wedding wagon to see how the food’s coming along. Jude, you’ll never know how much I appreciate your renting that wagon so we don’t have to borrow every plate and cup and spoon for miles around—most of the cooking is being done there, too!”
“Happy to help,” Jude replied. “Jeremiah rented a wedding wagon as his gift to us when Frieda and I married, and it was a godsend. Right, Mamm?”
“It seemed too progressive—felt like the lazy way out—to a traditional Amish mamm,” Margaret replied with a tight smile. “But it really did save us and our neighbors a lot of time and effort.”
Leah reveled in the feel of Jude’s large hand enfolding hers as he led her through the kitchen toward the mudroom door to fetch their coats. The younger men were carrying the pew benches out to the bench wagon to make room for the wedding meal’s tables and chairs, and the older fellows were migrating toward the barn, where lawn chairs and card tables were set up on the freshly swept floor. As Leah slipped into her winter coat, she joined Jude in thanking their helpers, nodding as he introduced her to a few aunts who’d come from eastern Missouri. When they finally stepped outside, Leah breathed a lot easier.
“We couldn’t have picked a nicer day,” she remarked as she followed Jude around to the side of the house—instead of toward the wedding wagon, where she’d intended to go. “For December, it’s very warm and—”