Lydia agreed to a short stroll and followed Andy down the lane. The sky streaked a bright, autumn red and iris purple in front of them. She toyed with her kapp strings to keep her hands busy. Silas had been about to ask her to share a meal with them. She was sure of it. Why else were there five glasses and not four? Why else would he have stopped her from putting one of the glasses back? He had never done that before.
If Andy hadn’t arrived when he did, what would he have said? The man was confusing. One minute Lydia felt like he disapproved of her being there, the next, he was looking at her like he was happy she was. Was Mary right? Did Silas see her and not the pain in the neck she believed he thought her to be? It was enough to rob a woman’s good senses.
She inhaled a breath of cool night air and reveled in the notion that those hazel eyes had softened to her. Underneath all the growls and gruffness, Silas could be quite the charmer. She rubbed her arms, the place his fingers had impressed, and smiled. He was trying to stop her from putting that glass back. It had stopped her all right. Stopped her mind, her heart, even her feet. How could such a simple touch leave a maedel frozen?
“Are you cold?” Andy glanced at her as they walked side by side.
“I’m fine.” She wasn’t, confused as she was.
“You asked me a question. I would like to answer it now.” Andy shoved both hands into his pockets.
Lydia recalled the last time they’d walked together like this. Frog songs had filled the evening that night, too. She had been so young, unknowing. She felt better equipped now to deal with someone who she had once opened her heart to.
“Go ahead then.” She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
“I hoped to return and get to know you again. Court you.”
“Court me?” Lydia stopped walking. He was serious. “You left Ohio to court me?” She should be flattered, but she felt more bruised than flattered. He left her and when she needed him most, he hadn’t returned. “We did court, Andy Weaver, and you left, remember?” Pulling her shawl around her tighter, she walked on ahead again.
“I had no choice in leaving, Lydia. You know this. My family needed me.” Andy caught up to her.
“You could have written me back. You could have at least told me to move on. Or did you prefer to have someone back here pining for ya?”
He smiled, stopping her in her tracks. He still had the power to do that to her. “Did you pine over me, Lydia?”
What a selfish question to ask. “I…no.”
“I am only teasing.” He touched her arm. “The truth is when I thought I would never see you again I didn’t want you to pine over me, to wait for me. It wasn’t fair. That’s why I returned your letters. I couldn’t read them. I wasn’t ready to join the church and get married. I wasn’t ready for the things you were.” He was silent for a moment. “I thought you would find another man, settle down, and marry. When I heard you and your mudder sold the farm and moved in with a widower, I realized I still cared for you. I still love you, Lydia Rose. Always have.” He caressed her cheek.
The soft warmth of his fingers sent a shiver of emotion up her spine. He loved her. Always had. Wanted the best for her. She stepped back, calculating every word, every emotion. Going ahead at full speed was what caused her to miss so much. It was time to pay attention and think before opening her mouth—or her heart. Breathe. Think.
“You returned because I live here now, but not when you believed me to be yours?” She cocked her head to one side, watching the way her words traveled over his confidence. “I lost so much, and you weren’t here.” She sniffed back any threats of emotion.
“I was a foolish boy.” Andy’s hand rubbed that place on the back of his neck where tension usually found respite. He moved closer and took both of her hands into his. “I am no longer that foolish boy. Please forgive me for this. Let us put this behind us. I will earn your forgiveness, Lydia, if you would just give me a chance. I will find work, a home worthy of you, and never leave you again.” His eyes were wide, pleading, and promising.
She had once loved him with all her heart, but he had broken that heart. Could she trust what she heard now? A man’s word was all he had, Daed had always told her. It spoke volumes about the kind of person he was.
“So, you committed to the church? You know, in Ohio?” Her question put a twinkle in his eyes, but all Lydia could think about was if she opened her heart to Andy again, it could lead to her one day leaving Miller’s Creek. Change was one thing she knew enough about herself to admit she didn’t like one bit. She could never leave Miller’s Creek. It was home.
“Nee. I plan to be baptized here. I have already spoken with the Bishop. I’m ready now.”
He sounded sincere.
“I want to make my life here in Miller’s Creek with you.”
Her heart stopped. No pounding or thumping—just stopped. Andy was here for her, for the life they could build together. Pick up where they had left off and live happily ever after.
“You mean it? You are serious about this?” But how could she be certain he meant what he said? She studied him closely, hoping to see the truth behind those dark eyes.
He nodded, grinning as if he knew her answer.
“If I agree to let you work hard for that forgiveness you seek, you have to be certain. I cannot simply forget how you hurt me, and I cannot just decide my future tonight without getting to know you again.”
His jaw tightened, not happy with her hesitation in being what they once were, but, after a few seconds, he surrendered and wrapped her in a hug.
“Danki, Lydia. You will not be sorry. I will earn your trust again. Your love. I promise.”
***
Silas leaned his elbows on the top boards of the fencing, resting his chin on his palms as the moon enhanced the budding oak and maples along his property line. Hazel had offered to make fresh coffee, but he declined. When she asked where her daughter was, Silas was surprised that she was as uneasy about Lydia wandering off with Andy Weaver as he was.
They had been gone nearly an hour. He listened for the sound of her laugh over the spring peepers that serenaded the evening’s entrance. It was a beautiful sound when she let herself succumb to it, but he heard nothing but the chorus of croaks and chirps.
Any man would be fortunate to take a late-night walk with her. Maybe steal a kiss. Would Lydia allow for that? The thought of Andy Weaver kissing her made his blood boil.
Cage bucked and kicked in the enclosure beside him. The animal wanted free, and Silas knew the feeling. He had felt trapped in his own darkness for so long, he was ready to step into the sun. Hazel said he only needed a new view, and Lydia had brought that with her. She radiated life. He saw it in his children, in the way the air carried their happy voices. He felt it in his veins when she was near, and God help him, he felt the emptiness when she wasn’t.
He recalled his own mother’s favorite verse from Proverbs. “A merry heart doeth good like medicine, but a broken spirit chillith the bones.”
When Rebecca had been in charge of the home, she had filled it with unyielding order and a deeper melancholy than Jana’s passing had delivered. His once happy home had converted into a hollow, mundane existence, and there had been no happiness.
Lydia was the energy, sunshine, that they had all been deprived of. Silas did trust the Lord and all his doings, and it was becoming clear that God had a hand in this arrangement in his life. The Miller women and their gut food and happy hearts were good medicine. There were different degrees of happiness, he was learning, and now it had sprouted around him, tempting him. And he wanted more of it.
“Didn’t stay up just for us, now, did you?” Silas broke his stare over Cage and turned as Andy and Lydia strolled up behind him. Andy’s tone was brazen for a lad who had yet to know the wares of a hard day’s work.
“Working farm. Commitments. Means a man’s work is never done. You should know that.” Watching Lydia smile at Andy Weaver, a man known to wave away commitment, was disheartening.
Had Andy made promises, planned to take her away? If that’s what she wanted, Silas would never let her know he had feelings. She deserved to be happy. He ran his hands through his hair. Who was he kidding? He hoped Andy Weaver didn’t take Lydia anywhere. That would be hard for his children to bear. That would change everything that was coming alive here.
“Gut nacht.” He turned and forced himself back into the house and the empty bed that awaited him.
***
The next morning, Lydia took all three of the children and the remaining jars of last year’s honey to the bakery. Mary had told her of a shortcut through Silas’s land which connected into that of Mr. Doyle’s. From there one just took the lake paths leading into town. It was a good four miles shorter and no walking on the road with three children. The children treasured the walking trail around Twin Fork Lake as a great adventure. Lydia promised they could explore one of the trails on the way home.
By the time they reached the old town drug store that had been converted into Miller’s Bakery, the children were a bit worn. That was just what Lydia was hoping for. Gideon would behave himself with no extra energy bouncing around inside of him. “Gut behavior now. Agreed?”
All three nodded, but it was the middle child she gave an extra stern look toward until he agreed verbally.
Moving inside the glass doors to the jingle of the overhead bell, Lydia spotted Jenny Schwartz speaking with her Mammi Rose at the counter. Jenny turned and eyed her entrance. The narrowing sharpness of her glare was almost piercing as it ran over her and the children.
The bakery was full of customers today. Bishop Schwartz’s fraa, Edith, along with two others were eyeing the jams and jellies to the right. In the far corner, a couple of regulars Lydia had served many times were deciding over a selection of cookbooks. Everyone noted her entering, three kids in tow, before resuming with what had brought them here.
Lydia ignored any prickles Jenny’s eyes posed on her. She repositioned Mary May on her hip and moved further into the room. Chin lifted, Lydia approached the counter a few feet from where Jenny stood.
“Morning, Mammi. I brought the last of Aenti May’s honey before we harvest again. I will set them out for ya.”
“Danki, sweet Lydi. I will be over to help you in a bit.” Rose continued filling a box with an assortment of fudge and chocolate chip cookies for an Englisch woman carrying four bags from local stores.
Gideon slid underneath a table to play with Mary May while Lydia restocked a center aisle shelf of honey and fresh maple syrups from a local family. Aiden held the basket for Lydia as she pulled out each jar of honey and strategically displayed them in what she felt was an approachable display. It was all about presentation. Even the most ordinary thing, gazed over a hundred times, could be noticed if put in the right light or placing. Mudder often praised Lydia’s good eye for presentation and often encouraged her to stock shelves and arrange the room on occasion.
“Did you walk all this way, Lydia?” Jenny asked, her tone laced with amusement carried throughout the store.
Lydia bristled. Jenny had that effect on people just as she had a talent for drawing attention. “Walking is gut for the body and the soul, ain’t so?” She peppered her words with sarcasm.
“Any sensible person would take a buggy.” Jenny smirked.
Lydia’s breath held. Had Silas told Jenny about her fear?
“I think walking does both mind and body gut. And kinner are no exception,” Edith said.
Lydia had never expected the bishop’s wife to come to her aid but was glad for it and the flinch of surprise it put on Jenny’s well-placed features. The small, rounded woman was often quiet and reserved, as any bishop’s wife was expected to be. Jenny silenced as Edith smiled over the full bakery.
“She is afraid of horses,” Rose blurted out as she wrapped freshly sliced cheese in white paper for Jenny. Hazel shot her mother a glare for outing Lydia. A glare that would have no real effect now that the words were out there.
“Afraid?” Jenny’s voice hitched.
Lydia’s stomach rolled and inverted if that was a possible thing. How could she? And in front of Jenny Schwartz at that. The heat was not the only indicator that her face was beet red now. Nothing was more embarrassing than having your worst fear announced publicly.
“It is not our Lydia’s way. I agree with Edith. Walking is gut and did not hurt us as kinner,” Mammi added once she noted Lydia’s surprised expression.
“We walked the lake and picked out a tree for a picnic,” Aiden said.
This took Lydia by surprise. The boy who had once treated her as if she had no idea what she was doing now sensed she needed his help. If she could, she would have cried right then and not from embarrassment at all. Silas would be proud of the young man his son was becoming.
With trembling fingers, Lydia placed the last jar on the shelf. She stepped around the center table, ready to leave as quick as her feet would take her when suddenly she was stumbling. Helpless to stop the inevitable, she smacked into the bakery floor. Hard. There was no limitation on humiliation. In the matter of a few seconds, Lydia had been scolded for being careless with children, outed as a coward, and now she could add inept at walking to her lists of lacking.
“Gideon Michael Graber, your daed will have you in the woodshed by supper! I have told you that is not funny.”
Lydia heard her mudder scolding along with a few feminine gasps. That’s when she realized that Gideon must have untied her shoes again. She should have known better than to turn her attention away from him long, but Jenny’s remarks had shaken her good sense just long enough to let her guard down. She rose to her knees as Mammi Rose came to her side and placed an arm over her.
“Oh help.” Mammi Rose spurted out. “Are you okay, my lieb?”
“Bad, bad timing, bruder,” Aiden whispered to his brother.
Lydia’s chin and elbow had made first contact, but it was her pride she knew had suffered the most.
“Gideon, kumm. We need to take a walk,” Jenny said in a voice that would make a schoolmaster proud.
Lydia ground her back teeth together. Jenny spoke as if she had some right to even think to discipline Silas Graber’s son.
“I think it is time someone with more experience handles this before it gets further out of hand.”
Gideon’s flesh went pale, his eyes as big as saucers. Lydia sprang to her feet so fast everything blurred, but she managed to keep from tumbling again thanks to Mammi Rose’s hands holding on to her. She would certainly be feeling this misstep for a day or two. Her chin was throbbing as it was.
“That will not be necessary,” Lydia said. She pulled Gideon close to her, tucking him into her hip. The look on his face said he was sorry. Either way, he had been told more than once, and a trip to the woodshed might be the only way to put an end to his defiance. Only that would be for his father to decide, not Jenny Schwartz.
Jenny chuckled, shaking her head. “Lydia, my sweet girl, I think it is obvious to everyone here that the kinner need...”
Lydia interrupted. “They need what Silas decides is best for them. What he has provided them: two women who care for them very much and will do everything they can to help them thrive within our community.” She bent forward and made quick work of lacing her shoe. Looking dignified at this point, no longer mattered. “Women who put Gott first. They need to learn by a loving hand, not one with an agenta.” Where did that come from?
“Silas is spoiling them, and I know how to handle mischievous buwe. You cannot even handle yourself,” Jenny said, and that perfectly lined brow lifted to punctuate her point.
“That is why out of three bruders you helped raise, three smoke cigarettes during the singings, smash mailboxes for fun, and have yet to commit to the church. I think not. My boys are gut boys and will one day be gut men.” Lydia turned on her heel and headed for the door, all three Graber children following her without a word.