Behind her, Leah heard a pffft! A glow lit the shadowy barn as Jude hung the Slabaughs’ lantern from a long nail in the barn wall. He closed the big door and came up beside her, opening his arms. She fell into his embrace and began weeping against his shoulder like a woman who’d lost her last friend.
He came after you. He thought he’d lost you. Leah’s thoughts spun in circles that slowly began to unwind, and she became aware that Jude was shaking, too, wrapping his arms around her beneath the coat as though he never intended to let her go. Don’t ever scare me this way again! What would I do if you didn’t come home?
When Leah raised her head, she was stunned to see that Jude’s face was wet with tears. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I should’ve known better—”
“What happened, sweetheart?” he whispered urgently. “You’re the bravest woman I know, so I can’t imagine what upset you so badly.”
Leah wiped her face against her arm. Her clothes were soaked and clinging to her, chilling her to the bone. Her hair had come undone and was hanging in wet bunches around her shoulders—and somewhere along the way, her kapp had blown off. Jude’s dark eyes searched hers relentlessly, yet desperately. . . lovingly. When he took the bandanna from his shirt pocket and began to blot her face and hair, Leah began to cry again—but this time it was love rather than fear driving her emotions.
And when have you ever allowed your emotions to get so far out of control? You could’ve told Jude about the twins’ remarks in the barn at home and saved him a lot of bother.
Leah sighed and took a couple of deep breaths. Bless him, Jude spotted a barn coat hanging on a peg near the door and he brought it to her . . . eased his own soaked coat gently off her shoulders and helped her into the dry one. He wasn’t pushing her for answers, or chiding her for riding off in such a huff. He simply waited for her to regain her mental balance, rubbing her chilled, raw hands between his large, warm ones. The horses wandered back into stalls, following their noses to hay and water and a Slabaugh horse that whickered a welcome.
At last Leah cleared her throat. “The frolic was going like it was supposed to—unless you count the way I was so clueless as to carry food out to the ladies who were quilting,” she added with a sigh. “But when Anne remarked about how I was handling Betsy as though she were my own child—”
“Jah, the two of you together make a sweet picture,” Jude agreed, encouraging her with his loving gaze.
“—Alice announced that she believes Betsy is my baby,” Leah continued, closing her eyes against the pain of the twins’ accusations. “And of course, Adeline chimed in, and between the two of them they—they speculated that I’d had Betsy out of wedlock and hidden her at Mama’s while you were courting me, so you wouldn’t know about my secret and my sins until after we were married.”
Jude’s mouth fell open. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever—”
“Jah, but the women just gaped and gawked, thinking that maybe the girls had it right,” Leah protested. “I was so stunned—so tongue-tied—that I surely must’ve looked guilty to them. So I ran,” she continued in a whisper. “I had to get out of there, Jude. I-I’m sorry—”
“No!” he insisted, gently grasping her arms. “You have nothing to apologize for, Leah. But when I get home to those girls—”
Jude turned from her, so angry that it took him several moments to regain his composure. He exhaled fiercely and then held his head in his hands. “I can’t begin to imagine how humiliated you must’ve felt, Leah,” he said in a voice she could barely hear. “My first impulse is to rush home and have the girls apologize to you and to your guests—”
“If they’re still at the house,” Leah said glumly. While she craved the opportunity for Jude to set things straight before Mama’s quilting friends went home, a part of her cringed at the thought of facing them all again.
Jude shook his head, still upset about his daughters’ accusations. He pulled Leah close for another hug, rubbing her briskly to get her warm. “But my first concern is you—getting you home and into dry clothes,” he said. He exhaled as though trying to rid himself of anger so he could think clearly. “And you know what, Leah? Even if what the twins said were true—even if you had hidden Betsy from me while we were courting—it wouldn’t change my love for you one bit.”
Leah blinked. Jude surely couldn’t be serious, after the way Frieda had deceived him by keeping the same sort of secret—twice. What man would want to know that his second wife had betrayed him as well?
“And besides,” he continued, easing away to gaze at her, “I’ve known you for too many years to believe you’d pull such a stunt—and your mother’s not the sort of woman to go along with such a hoax, either. I’m grateful to God, however, that Betsy has come to us, and I intend to adopt her and make her a permanent part of our family.”
Leah’s throat tightened with such love that she couldn’t speak for a moment. “Oh, Jude, I love you so much for—for believing in me,” she whispered. “And for wanting to be Betsy’s dat. I want us to adopt her, too.”
When she sneezed suddenly, Jude gave her his damp bandanna so she could blow her nose. He glanced around the barn. “Are you up to riding Mose back home? Or shall I go back and fetch a rig so you’ll be out of the weather—”
“What’s a little more snow?” Leah asked as she held up the sides of her soaked skirt. “I can’t really get any wetter than I already am.”
Jude kissed her lovingly. “You and I are going home to rectify this situation with the girls,” he stated, “and then we’re going to make plans to get away for a few days. You know that B and B that’s on the road to Cedar Creek? The one the Kanagy fellows’ wives run?”
Leah nodded, a spark of expectation warming her. “The double house beside the auction barn?”
“Yup. We’re getting a room there,” Jude said, gripping her hand. “You deserve some time off for gut behavior, Mrs. Shetler—and I don’t get to spend nearly enough time alone with you.”
Leah threw her arms around him. How had she ever managed to marry such a loving, thoughtful man? “That doesn’t sound like something an Amish husband would do for his wife,” she admitted softly. “I don’t know of anyone who’s stayed there.”
“Then it’s time we show Amish husbands that romancing their wives with a little time away is gut for both parties involved,” Jude insisted with a gleam in his eye. “The Bible tells husbands to love their wives as Christ loved the church, so how could anyone say I’m being too extravagant? Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” he added gently. “You’ve had a rough time of it today.”
Chapter 17
When Lenore heard the back door open, she rose quickly from her seat at the quilting frame. “Leah, is that you, honey?” she called out as she headed for the kitchen.
The other ladies kept stitching, as they’d agreed to do, but Stevie jumped up from the table where he’d been playing a game of Uncle Wiggily with Gracie, the Miller sisters, and the Flaud girls. “Did ya find her, Dat?” he cried, racing past Lenore. “You’ve been gone a long time!”
Lenore smiled fondly and let the boy have a moment with his parents. The sound of Jude’s low voice and Leah’s greeting relieved the knot of worry that had settled in her chest—not that her daughter’s return solved the larger problem they needed to address. When she peered into the kitchen, however, she set aside her chagrin concerning the twins’ behavior.
“Leah, let’s get you out of those soaked clothes—and you too, Jude,” she said as she rushed over to the pair, who were removing barn jackets that dripped on the floor. “You’re both courting pneumonia, being out in the cold and the snow for so long.”
“I’m thinking a hot shower and some hot tea will go a long way toward curing what ails us,” Jude remarked, glancing toward the front room. “Have the neighbor ladies left?”
“I—I’m sorry I spoiled your party, Mama,” Leah said with a sigh.
“Nonsense! After I demanded that Alice an
d Adeline apologize and tell our guests the truth, Margaret sent them upstairs,” Lenore said, shaking her head. “I have no idea where they came up with such a wild tale—or why—but I felt they should be humiliated in front of their friends, the same way they humiliated you, dear. I’m going to suggest to your brother the bishop that they confess on their knees the next Sunday we meet for church.”
Stevie gripped his suspenders, his brow furrowed in thought. “I think they was mad coz I caught ’em lookin’ for that cell phone in Dat and Leah’s dresser the other night,” he said softly. “After I left, I heard ’em sayin’ they thought Leah sent me up there to spy on ’em, so they was talkin’ about payback. Or somethin’ like that.”
Lenore swallowed hard. Jude’s and Leah’s expressions told her they had no idea about the twins being in their room—and Stevie’s story only deepened her disappointment in Adeline’s and Alice’s troubling tendency to lie and to sneak around like feral cats. The pair appeared stricken as they draped the wet coats over the sink in the mudroom.
Jude recovered first. “We’ll deal with the girls after we’ve changed our clothes,” he said wearily. “Let’s go upstairs, Leah.”
Lenore’s heart went out to her daughter as the couple entered the front room. Even with such a stalwart, supportive husband as Jude, who’d slung a protective arm around Leah’s shoulders, facing the neighbors who’d witnessed her ordeal with the twins had to feel terribly awkward—painful, to someone as shy as Leah. Yet the neighbors were smiling, looking up from the quilt on which they’d made so much progress.
“Leah, we’re so glad you’re all right!” said Delores Flaud.
Esther sighed apologetically. “We really did appreciate the goodies you brought us,” she admitted. “And we’re sorry you missed them.”
“Hope you don’t mind that I’m taking a turn at cuddling Betsy,” Rose Wagler said from the rocking chair. Her freckled face lit up when the baby squawked and reached toward Leah and Jude. “And you know what, Leah? This beautiful baby is yours, in every way that counts, because you love her without questioning where she came from or why she showed up so unexpectedly.”
Lenore’s hand went to her throat. She’d hoped her quilting friends would offer Leah their reassurances when she returned, but she hadn’t anticipated such an outpouring of support. And when Margaret stood up to gaze at Leah and her son, appearing very nervous, Lenore held her breath.
“Leah, I owe you an apology,” Margaret said in a strained voice. “I’ve been blind—reluctant to believe what you’ve been saying about Adeline and Alice. What we all witnessed today has been a real slap in the face—a wake-up call about the outrageously rude way the girls have been treating you, and . . . and the way a lot of us have written you off as, well . . . un-wifely. I hope you can find a way to forgive me.”
“Anyone can see you’re the perfect mate for Jude,” Martha Maude put in emphatically. “You’ve stepped into a challenging situation and you’re doing your best to be the glue that holds this family together. We’ve been too slow to acknowledge this, but we’re all glad you’ve come to Morning Star, Leah.”
Lenore felt enveloped in the love and acceptance that had filled the front room. Her heart still went out to Leah, for the days ahead held more challenges with the twins, but now the network of neighbor ladies would provide some support even after she returned to Cedar Creek.
“And now, young lady, you and your man need to get yourselves into dry clothing—and get your hair put back into place with a kapp,” Naomi instructed as she playfully wagged a finger at Leah and Jude. “We’ll wipe up those puddles you’re making on the floor—”
“And I’ll put water on the stove for your tea,” Lenore added quickly. It was a relief to see Leah smiling at Naomi’s lighthearted reprimand rather than assuming it was yet another of the maidel’s customary criticisms.
“Denki for loaning me your barn coat, Naomi,” Leah said. “I’ll wash it and return it as soon as I can.”
Lenore’s heart swelled as she watched her daughter and son-in-law climb the stairs together, hand in hand. It seemed the quilting frolic had accomplished much more than mere needles and thread could do, and for that she thanked God. “I’ll put on a big pot of water, for whoever else wants hot tea,” she announced.
“Or hot chocolate!” Stevie piped up excitedly. He hugged her legs, gazing up at her with his big blue eyes. “It’s not a party without hot chocolate, right, Mammi Lenore?”
“You’ve got it right, Stevie,” she replied as she stroked his mop of thick brown hair. “Come help me set out some more goodies so it’ll be a real party. We have a lot to celebrate.”
* * *
On the following Monday afternoon, Jude felt high on anticipation as he set a large suitcase inside the buggy. In a few moments he and Leah would be leaving for the Kanagys’ Countryside B and B to enjoy four glorious days without anyone except themselves to keep track of—and he planned to stay lost in love for the entire time he was away. When he returned to the house, he felt compelled to say a few last words to everyone who’d remained in the kitchen to see him and Leah off.
Jude gazed at Adeline and Alice, who appeared so contrite—so very Amish—in the maroon cape dresses Lenore had recently sewn for them. They stood at the sink washing and drying the dinner dishes, their expressions still somber from his stern lectures and the extra household duties he’d assigned them over the weekend. After the ladies had gone home from the quilting frolic, the girls had apologized to Leah, and she had accepted their apology—but it would be a while before the clouds in their relationship with their stepmamm had a chance of clearing. Adolescent resentment had roots as deep and widespread as trees, it seemed to him.
“Goes without saying, girls, that I expect a gut report when we get home,” he remarked. “And Stevie, you’re to be your uncle’s right-hand man while I’m away, so there’ll be no tomfoolery on your part, either, jah?”
“We’re gut to go, Dat,” the boy replied as he gazed adoringly at Jeremiah. “All the horses and Leah’s animals are gonna be fed and watered just the way they’re supposed to be.”
“And nobody’ll go hungry—especially this little punkin,” Lenore put in as she shifted Betsy to her other shoulder. “We’ll take extra-gut care of her while you’re away.”
“We mammis are looking forward to time with the kids,” Jude’s mother said with a nod—although she didn’t include Adeline and Alice in her gaze when she surveyed the kitchen.
Jude was satisfied, however, that his mother and his brother would help Lenore maintain order while he and Leah were away. Jeremiah had gotten quite an earful from Mamm when she’d returned home from the quilting frolic, and the bishop had made it known that unless he saw a marked improvement in the twins’ behavior—in the sincerity of their words and deeds where Leah was concerned—the girls would be confessing before the entire congregation come Sunday.
When Alice had protested that they couldn’t be punished or shunned because they were in their rumspringa—not members of the church—Bishop Jeremiah had informed her that he’d already spoken with the preachers on this matter, and that the twins were on everyone’s radar. No longer could they use their unbaptized state as an excuse to sneak around with English boys, tell tales, or torment Leah. Adeline and Alice had been stunned to hear that folks other than the ladies at the frolic had heard about their blatant lie concerning Betsy being Leah’s child.
Maybe they’ve learned a lesson they wouldn’t accept just upon my teaching it, Jude thought as he watched the girls wash and rinse a few more plates. Sometimes the messenger is as important as the message.
When he caught sight of the eager smile teasing at Leah’s lips, he set aside his concerns about the twins. “Guess we’ll be going now,” Jude announced as he reached for his wife’s hand. “See you all Friday morning.”
He felt like a kid skipping out of school. Even though snow still lay in the low spots and ditches alongside the road, Jude was in a spring
time frame of mind once he and Leah were in the rig and heading toward Cedar Creek.
“This is so exciting,” Leah said as she reached for his hand. “I kept thinking something would come up and keep us at home, but you saw to all the details—especially about corralling the kids.”
Jude chuckled. “I figured if I didn’t have Mamm and Jeremiah there as backup, Lenore wouldn’t stand a chance at keeping track of the girls—and it pains me to say that about them,” he added sadly. “If I knew how to find the fellow who owned that infernal cell phone that was partly to blame for this mess, I’d return it—along with a few choice warnings. But for now Jeremiah knows where I stashed it, out in the barn where your goats are.”
Leah’s eyes widened with comprehension. “You figured the twins would never look for it out there, because they don’t want to be around my goats,” she put in with a chuckle. “Does Stevie know where it is? He seems to overhear a lot about what the girls are keeping from us.”
“He doesn’t know the exact stall—and it’s behind a board, in a spot he can’t reach,” Jude replied. “He has the best intentions, but I figured if the twins tried to worm the phone’s location out of him, he might let it slip. He just knows it isn’t in the house.”
They were silent for a few moments, sitting close enough that their shoulders and thighs brushed as the buggy swayed.
“We’re leaving all that drama behind us now, for four whole days,” Jude whispered suggestively. “I can think of much more . . . tantalizing topics for us to explore. I chose a room at the back of the Kanagys’ double house, facing toward the woods and a pasture. When I stopped by to make our reservation, Mary and Martha told me we’d have the guest areas to ourselves, because at this time of year most folks only come on the weekends.” Jude smiled, saving the best temptation for last. “We also have the option of getting our breakfast delivered to the room if we don’t feel like getting dressed to eat in the dining room.”
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