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 and 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 springtime 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.”
Leah sat back against the buggy seat, her eyes wide. “That sounds downright sinful, lolling in bed—holed up in a nice room—when we’d usually be doing chores in the barn or cooking breakfast,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “I—I’m not sure I’ll know how to do that.”
“I can teach you, sweet Leah,” Jude teased.
Leah giggled. “I bet you can.”