Chapter Twenty
Early that evening, Jeremiah stepped onto Lydianne’s front porch, determined to settle the matter of her sin and her confession of it. Before he could knock, she opened the door and gestured for him to come in. As always, her punctuality and prettiness charmed him—and she had coffee and cookies waiting for him on the kitchen table, as though she’d been expecting him, watching for him. It would be so easy to make Lydianne a permanent part of his life—she always seemed to do the right things at the right time.
But this is not the right time to consider anything resembling a lifelong relationship.
Jeremiah seated himself on one side of her small, rectangular table rather than assuming the position a husband would occupy. When she sat down across from him, however, he realized it would be even harder to hold their discussion face to face, because he couldn’t avoid looking into her big blue eyes.
Those eyes held a lot of questions as Lydianne folded her hands on the table in an attitude of prayer and submission. “What have you decided?” she asked before he could begin their conversation. “I was ready to confess after church—”
“And I admire your willingness to follow the Ordnung, Lydianne,” Jeremiah put in quickly. “Most folks have to be convinced to admit their wrongdoing, and some almost have to be dragged kicking and screaming into the ritual of confession. But every time I looked at Julia sitting there with Ella today, while Tim gazed at them from across the room, I realized how badly their world would be shattered if I asked you to break your news in a public setting.”
Lydianne sighed. “Jah, there’s that.”
“Not to mention the disruption to the education of those eight scholars who believe you hung the moon, and who love to learn because you’re their teacher,” he added. “As I’ve pondered our options, I see three.”
Her expressive eyebrows rose. “Bishop, I’m grateful for your open-minded attitude,” she said in a low voice. “In the district I came from, there would’ve only been one option—baring my soul on my knees and accepting my punishment, no matter the consequences for anyone else.”
Lydianne glanced away with a pensive sigh. “I’m guessing the first option is the standard confession I just mentioned? Most likely followed by a six-week bann—and then a lifetime of knowing I’d caused a great deal of strife for the Nissley family.”
Jeremiah nodded. “The second idea is a bit more complicated. I could find a replacement teacher and remove you from your teaching duties without making your situation public—because you have confessed to me, and as the bishop, I can choose to keep your confession confidential.”
Jeremiah rested his elbows on the table, leaning toward her as he watched the play of expressions on her lovely face. “If this is the route we go, you’d need to leave Morning Star as soon as I find another teacher—and I would have a lot of questions to answer. But I would do that for you, Lydianne. Rather than living alone again, I would strongly encourage you to reunite with the family you left behind after Aden’s funeral. Have you had any contact with them?”
Lydianne’s head jerked as she stared at him. “No,” she replied with a vehemence that widened his eyes. “They made their condemnation very clear, and I can’t think their attitude about me will have changed in the years since I went away. Even if my sisters might be curious about my whereabouts, they’d go along with their husbands’ insistence that I shamed them by leading Aden into temptation.”
Jeremiah frowned. “Where’s the forgiveness in that?”
“If you’d like to ask them that question, go right ahead,” Lydianne blurted without missing a beat. “But even after all this time has passed, I don’t believe my brothers-in-law—especially Deacon Ralph—will feel inclined to welcome me back. Most likely, they were grateful that I ran off without telling them where I went.”
The small kitchen felt charged with negative energy. Clearly, Lydianne would rather subject herself to the punishment of the Morning Star church district than return to a place where she’d never felt particularly welcome after her parents had passed. Being a maidel and a wage earner and a homeowner suited her better than living under a judgmental brother-in-law’s roof. Even though her previous district’s attitude went against the Old Order’s tenets about supporting unmarried female family members, nothing he could say would make Lydianne’s family take her back on better emotional terms.
“So now that I’ve refused to go along with your second option, Jeremiah—at least if my family’s involved—what’s the third one?”
He blinked. Her question brought Jeremiah out of his musings. “What if you and I get married, Lydianne?” he blurted. “Your secret would be safe with me, and the Nissleys would never have to know—”
“Get married?”
Jeremiah searched her sweet face, heartened by a momentary softening of her beautiful blue eyes even as her tone expressed dismay.
“That’s the worst reason I’ve ever heard of—” With an exasperated sigh, Lydianne rose from her chair. “You’ve put me between a rock and a hard place, Jeremiah. If I don’t marry you, will you force me to go back to my family to preserve the Nissleys’ happy life? If I do become your wife, you’ll be holding my secret over my head every day—”
“I would never do that!” Jeremiah sprang from his seat, distressed by the direction their talk had taken. “I didn’t phrase my idea properly, and I didn’t intend to put you in such a spot, Lydianne. I’m sorry!” he insisted. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and I believe you and I could make a fine life together. Even before you admitted you were Ella’s mother, I had feelings for you. I—I love you so much more than I ever thought possible after I lost Priscilla.”
He sensed he was only digging himself into a deeper pit, but he couldn’t give up. As Jeremiah reached across the table to grasp Lydianne’s hands, he prayed for the words that would make her see him for the man he yearned to be in her eyes.
“Your past is behind you, sweetheart, and I wouldn’t dream of holding it against you,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Please give me a chance to win your heart—to prove I’m not the sort of man who’d try to manipulate you because you had a child out of wedlock. That doesn’t matter to me.”
“But it matters to me, Jeremiah,” she stated, easing her hands out of his. “It feels wrong to marry you as a cover-up. I can’t do that.”
Once again, her outright rejection made his heart shrivel, made his eyes burn—even if she’d made a valid point. It had been one thing to refuse his invitation to the family reunion, but Lydianne had just slammed a much bigger, more important door in his face. He knew better than to keep begging, however.
“Well then, we’ll have to keep talking until we’ve reached a satisfactory solution,” Jeremiah somehow managed to say. He felt as though Mitch had kicked him square in the chest, knocking the breath and the fortitude out of him.
There was no point in lingering, so he took his leave.
As a man, he needed to lick his wounds and recover his dignity. But as a bishop, he had to resolve this conflict in a way that upheld the Old Order and allowed all the involved parties to become right with God again.
It was a tall order. And for the first time since the bishop’s lot had fallen to him several years ago, Jeremiah doubted that he was the right man with the right words to do the right thing.
* * *
As Lydianne watched Jeremiah’s rig roll down her lane toward the road, she regretted the way she’d shut him down. How many times had she dreamed of marrying the handsome bishop, sorry that her secret sin would prevent such a relationship?
But he knows about Ella and he still wants to marry me! He said he couldn’t stop thinking about me—and that he loves me! It would be the answer to all my problems—if my pride didn’t get in the way.
She’d dismissed Jeremiah’s proposal without a moment’s thought, however. She’d been so upset about his suggestion that she reunite with her family, she’d blurted no before his marriage suggestion had even reached her heart.
Worse than that, I hurt his feelings. Sure, Jeremiah didn’t make the romantic, perfectly worded proposal I’ve dreamed of, but he was sincere and genuine. I know what a wonderful, loving husband he would be, yet I slapped him down even after he’d forgiven the sin I’ve been hiding since before I came here.
Lydianne sighed sadly. They were no closer to a solution about how to handle her confession, either. Now it was Jeremiah who was between a rock and a hard place, because she’d so thoughtlessly put him there.
* * *
The next day at school she had to behave as though everything was normal—because as far as her eight scholars were concerned, Ella was back at her desk and all was well. Lydianne, however, had never felt so unprepared. She’d spent her weekend whirling in an emotional tornado rather than planning lessons, so she moved ahead in each of her student’s textbooks, introducing the new spelling lists and vocabulary words for the week. She was grateful for a sunny October day, because recess could be outside, which would give her students the chance to work off steam between their study sessions.
All during the day, whenever the scholars worked quietly at their desks, Lydianne gazed at Ella over the top of the textbooks she was pretending to study. Her little daughter glowed with the radiance of discovery as she turned the pages of a new library book. Ella spoke out confidently when they reviewed addition and subtraction facts. After she chose crayons for a coloring sheet that featured an autumn arrangement of pumpkins, gourds, and mums, her smile reflected the joy she felt as she neatly completed her picture.
And how will Ella feel if she learns I’m her mother? Think of how confusing that will be for a six-year-old—and think of the wedge it might drive between her and Julia. If Ella became so obsessed over a rainbow in a Bible story, what might she fixate on as she tries to figure out the implications of being born to a mamm who has no husband to be her dat—a woman who gave her up?
At long last, the school day ended. Lydianne stood on the front stoop of the schoolhouse, waving as Billy Jay drove Stevie and Ella home in his pony cart. She smiled as the Flauds and Gracie left, followed closely by the Miller sisters. Relief washed over her as she sank onto her desk chair for a few moments of quiet contemplation. She wasn’t surprised when Jeremiah stepped through the schoolhouse door about ten minutes later.
“How was your day?” he asked as he carried a chair from the back and placed it beside her desk. As he removed his black straw hat, he looked as unsettled as she felt.
“We made it through. The kids are fine,” Lydianne replied with a wan smile. “I was so busy flying by the seat of my pants to keep their lessons going, I didn’t have much chance to worry about our dilemma. But I’ve come to some conclusions.”
“Like what?” Jeremiah settled himself on the wooden chair, focused on her.
Lydianne shook her head. “I never should’ve taken this teaching position,” she replied ruefully. “It’s not a gut idea for a parent to teach her child in the classroom, and now I’ve created a very difficult situation for everyone—all because I selfishly thought I could keep my secret. I’ve put you in a tough spot, as well, Jeremiah, and I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you yesterday.”
His dark eyes widened. “Care to clarify that? We, um, talked about a lot of big issues.”
Lydianne closed her eyes, praying she wouldn’t torment this generous, forgiving man more than she already had. “You were offering me options, and I threw them all back in your face because I still feel bitter about the way my sisters and their husbands treated me,” she murmured. “I need to forgive them every bit as much as they should forgive me—not that I gave them that chance when I took off.”
The bishop’s smile looked tired, but at least he was nodding. “I’m glad you can see that angle now, Lydianne.”
“And today, as I watched the joy Ella felt in her schoolwork, I knew how confused—how upset—she’d probably be if she found out that Teacher Lydianne is her mother, especially because I gave her up,” she continued with a sigh. “If I’d just had the sense to keep my job at the furniture factory—”
“The parents of our district don’t see it that way,” he interrupted firmly. “If they learned the truth, and you went through the proper steps of confession to gain their forgiveness, I believe they’d still be pleased with the way you’re educating their kids.”
“But it’s Ella I’m worried about! She’s my child, but I forfeited the right to—”
“You came here to watch her grow up,” Jeremiah put in earnestly. He reached for her hands, gently clasping them as he leaned closer. “That’s what convinced me you were the woman I wanted to spend my life with, Lydianne. When I saw you holding her close and crying, after I found her on—”
A noise made them look toward the doorway, and Lydianne’s mouth dropped open. Ella was standing just inside the schoolroom. She was wide-eyed, holding a colorful bouquet of zinnias as she gaped at them.
How long had she been there? How much of their conversation had she overheard? Lydianne had been so engrossed in talking to Jeremiah, that she’d lost all track of what might be going on around them.
“Ella! What a nice surprise,” Lydianne said as she hurried toward the little blonde. “Does your mother know you’ve come back to school?”
“Jah, she helped me pick these flowers in our yard. She’s waitin’ out in the buggy,” Ella replied quickly. “They’re a present for you, Teacher Lydianne. I’m sorry I left the playground the other day—”
“I know you are, sweetie,” Lydianne replied earnestly. It was a blessing to watch her young daughter own up to a mistake and apologize for it. “These are beautiful! Denki so much for thinking of me, Ella. I’ll put them in a vase on my desk right now.”
Casting a curious glance at Jeremiah, the little blonde thrust the flowers at Lydianne and darted out the door. Lydianne stepped outside to wave at Julia, who sat in her rig a short distance from the building. “These are lovely! Denki, Julia!” she called out.
Julia waved before helping Ella into the rig. Then they were off.
Lydianne was relieved that Julia had shown no inclination to visit. As she found a glass canning jar in the cupboard by the sink, however, her thoughts took off much faster than the Nissleys’ horse had. “Do you suppose Ella heard what we were talking about?” she asked over her shoulder.
“I don’t know,” Jeremiah replied. “If she did, I’m guessing word will get out pretty fast. If we’re lucky, Ella will be more interested in the fact that I was here talking to you, holding your hands, than about the circumstances of her birth.”
As she ran water into the jar and placed the pretty zinnias in it, Lydianne wondered if Jeremiah intended to further pursue the topic she’d purposely been avoiding before Ella had interrupted them. The little girl’s untimely appearance had apparently jarred all thoughts of his proposal from his mind, however.
“We’ll see where this leads, Lydianne.” Jeremiah stood up and put on his hat. “If Ella was listening for very long, there’s no telling what spin she’ll put on this story.”