Chapter Twenty-Eight
As Lydianne raised her head at the end of the prayer, she could imagine how desperate the situation at the Detweiler house must be just by looking at Jeremiah’s dear face. The lines bracketing his mouth and fanning around his soulful brown eyes were etched deeper—lines that added such character to his skin, which was bronzed and weathered by his farming. She recognized the clothes he’d worn on their date—perfectly acceptable for socializing, but she could tell Bishop Jeremiah felt out of place in them as he sat before God and the congregation on Sunday morning.
He got called to Glenn’s place while he was getting ready for church. Isn’t it just like Jeremiah to put the needs of a grieving family before his own? He must’ve been such a comfort to them.
As the service progressed, with Preachers Ammon and Clarence delivering lengthy sermons, however, Lydianne couldn’t miss the profound sadness that shadowed Jeremiah’s face. He seemed lost in thought, gazing at the floor most of the service instead of appearing engaged in it. Instinct told her he was feeling something more painful than the concerns of a bishop caring for a family that had just lost a vital member.
After church, Jeremiah called a brief Members Meeting. The women agreed to write up a schedule for providing meals and assistance to Glenn, Reuben, and the boys. The men chimed in with assurances that they’d take care of the livestock chores and repairs that needed to be made around the Detweiler place before winter set in. They knew Glenn wouldn’t have the time or inclination for such things while he was raising his sons and grieving his mamm and his wife—not to mention looking after his father, whose physical and mental health seemed to be declining.
When the meeting broke up and the other women headed for Delores’s kitchen to set out the common meal, Lydianne lingered behind. She waited for a few of the men to finish chatting with Jeremiah before catching his eye. As he made his way between the fellows who were setting up tables, his expression lightened a bit.
“Gut afternoon, Sunshine,” he said quietly. “It was a fine thing to see your encouraging smiles during the service, after the way my day began.”
“I can’t imagine Glenn was doing very well this morning,” Lydianne remarked. “And how’s Reuben holding up?”
“Reuben’s a trouper. I’m a lot more concerned about Glenn, because he’s lost the woman who was holding his life together after Dorcas’s passing.” When Jeremiah rubbed his hand over his face, Lydianne noticed that he hadn’t gotten to finish shaving this morning. “But I found it particularly distressing that he . . . Glenn’s still very angry because you’ve chosen to be with me instead of with him.”
“And he blamed you, didn’t he?”
“Not in so many words, but—”
“I could see it on your face during the service,” Lydianne whispered. She longed to grasp his hand, but thought better of it with other folks around them preparing for the meal. “He thinks his life would fall neatly into place—that all his problems would be solved—if I would marry him and raise his boys.”
Jeremiah smiled wearily. “He has a point.”
“No, he has it wrong,” Lydianne countered, trying to keep her voice low. “Just because he came on like a house afire doesn’t mean I’d ever come to love him—or fit into his fantasy about taking Dorcas’s place. I’ll find a way to clarify that for him again, so Glenn’s not taking out his frustration on you, Jeremiah.”
His embrace took her completely by surprise. Right in the center of the Flaud’s crowded front room, Jeremiah wrapped his arms around Lydianne and lightly rested his head on top of hers. “Denki for understanding my difficult relationship with Glenn right now,” he whispered as he held her close against his tall, sturdy body. “Be gentle with him, though. Any man who’s lost you—and his wife and his mamm and his dreams—is going to feel mighty low. You’re a gut woman to care about his feelings—and mine—Lydianne.”
When they eased apart, everyone was watching them, wearing speculative expressions. Lydianne felt heat creeping into her cheeks, yet she suddenly didn’t mind that these friends had witnessed the emotion Jeremiah had shared with her. With a parting smile for him, she went to the kitchen to help carry platters of food to the tables.
Regina grabbed her playfully by the sleeve. “Well now, I guess we know what that hug meant, ain’t so?” she teased. “And I couldn’t be happier for you.”
“Puh! We saw this coming all along, didn’t we?” Jo put in as she grinned at the Helfing twins. “Lydianne won’t be a maidel much longer—”
“But you won’t marry the bishop until school’s out in the spring, jah?” Lucy Miller was holding a pitcher of water in each hand, sounding worried about her future schooling. Lorena Flaud stood wide-eyed beside her, as though she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.
The kitchen fell silent as the other women, gripping utensils and platters, turned to hear Lydianne’s answer. She saw happiness on their faces, yet the mothers of scholars also looked as concerned as Lucy had sounded.
“That’s exactly right, Lucy,” Lydianne replied as she slipped an arm around each of her two oldest students. “Nothing’s to be gained by marrying in haste—and I believe in seeing my commitments through. I fully intend to watch you both complete your studies.”
Lorena hugged her tightly and then began clapping. The rest of the ladies burst into applause, as well. It was the moment that marked the end of Lydianne’s private relationship with Jeremiah and the beginning of her official journey toward becoming the bishop’s wife.
Never mind that he hasn’t asked me yet. That’s between him and me—with God as our witness, she reminded herself with a smile.
* * *
Four days later, as the crowd of mourners stood around Elva Detweiler’s open grave to bid her farewell, Lydianne prayed for the bereaved family—and for guidance. The gray day matched the congregation’s somber mood as Jeremiah made a few closing remarks about Elva’s service to her Lord, and how she stood as a shining example of a soul who’d devoted her time and energy to her family.
After the pallbearers lowered Elva’s plain pine coffin into its final resting place, folks took turns tossing shovelfuls of soil into the grave. As they stepped up, they were careful not to trip over the five small, rounded headstones that marked the young Detweiler children who’d preceded their mother in death.
Lydianne stole a glance at Glenn’s older sister, Sadie Shank. Sadie stood between her brother and her husband, Ivan, alongside Reuben and a very subdued Billy Jay. The Shanks’s four older children stood huddled behind them, looking unsure of how to handle the rituals of death and burial. The birth of the twins that Sadie and Ivan held in basket carriers had kept the family from coming to Morning Star for Dorcas’s funeral three and a half months ago—and because the Shanks lived in Indiana, Lydianne had only seen Sadie a few times. With her dark hair and eyebrows, she closely resembled Glenn, yet Lydianne was struck by the sense of determined purpose that had displaced the grief on Sadie’s face.
As the graveside service ended, folks walked toward their parked buggies for the short trip to the Detweiler farm for lunch. Sadie, however, took her brother’s arm to pull him out of the crowd. “Have you thought about what I said?” she asked in a low voice. “You know full well you should move east to be with us, Glenn. There’s nothing here for you anymore, and you can’t possibly manage Dat, as well as the boys—”
“I’ve already told you no,” Glenn snapped, hugging baby Levi closer to the shoulder of his black coat. “I’m not pulling Billy Jay out of the school here—”
“We have a school right down the road. He could go with his cousins!” Sadie insisted. “You can move your woodworking business into a new shop on our property, and I can tend to Dat while—”
“You and Dat have never seen eye to eye, so why will that be any different—especially now that you have two new babies to feed in addition to your other kids?” her brother shot back.
“But as Dat’s mind slips further away from reality—”
“Why should he live someplace else? It’ll only confuse him more.” Glenn’s sharp glare could’ve carved the letters into their mother’s tombstone. “You have your life, and we have ours, Sadie. Just forget it, all right?”
As he stalked off to catch up to his father and Billy Jay, Lydianne was sorry she’d witnessed such a rift in his family. Sadie and Glenn were the only two Detweiler siblings who’d survived to adulthood, so it was sad that Sadie had moved so far away, and that they couldn’t agree about Reuben’s future home and care.
Was Glenn’s dat really losing touch with reality? Lydianne had observed a few forgetful moments Reuben had experienced since Dorcas’s death—but who didn’t occasionally lose track of details, especially when they were stressed or grieving? As she walked toward the Fussners’ double buggy with Jo, Drusilla, and the Helfing twins, she wondered how Reuben would fare in the coming days without his daughter-in-law or his wife.
“Sounds like Sadie’s determined that everybody at Reuben’s house should uproot themselves, just because she says so,” Drusilla remarked as Jo drove the buggy down the road.
“Too bad she had to call Glenn on the carpet with everyone else looking on, too,” Marietta said. “Poor man’s got enough on his mind without her telling him he should change his entire life.”
“Sadie was always better at dishing up instructions than she was at taking them,” Molly put in with a shake of her head. “Glenn and his dat will probably be relieved when she heads back to Indiana—although that’s a horrible thing to say. It’s a shame Sadie and Glenn were never close, and now the strain of losing their mamm is driving them further apart.”
At the Detweiler farm, neighbors had cleared the central area of the largest barn so long tables, benches, and chairs could accommodate folks for the funeral lunch. Many of the women from church had provided large pans of baked chicken, baked potatoes, and side dishes, which were arranged on a serving table with plates, napkins, and eating utensils. Martha Maude and Anne Hartzler had finished setting up the meal while the rest of the congregation had attended the graveside service. They were removing the foil from the steaming containers of food as the crowd emerged from the many buggies parked along both sides of the Detweilers’ lane.
As members of the family filled their plates first, Lydianne and her friends took up the pitchers on a side table and began filling water glasses. Esther and Naomi Slabaugh were cutting pies at a table near the back of the eating area. Conversations soon filled the barn while the first shift of people ate their meal. When Glenn went over to choose a slice of pie, the Helfing twins spoke with him.
Lydianne sensed the usual exchange of condolences as Molly and Marietta squeezed Glenn’s arm and he nodded in all the right places. When Jo approached him, Lydianne decided it might be a good time to express her own sorrow, while Glenn wasn’t seated at a crowded table with Sadie and her family.
“Mamm and I will be over tomorrow with your supper and to redd up the house,” Jo was saying. “If there’s anything else you need, please let us know, all right?”
Glenn seemed preoccupied, probably overwhelmed by so many offers of help. It was clear that although Jo and the Helfing twins were his friends, he had no inclination to socialize with them—much less consider them as potential mates.
As Lydianne stepped up to him, however, Glenn’s expression became wary. Maybe he was ready to return to the table with his pie, so she didn’t want to detain him for long. “Glenn, I’m sorry you’ve lost your mamm—”
“Sorry,” he muttered, as though the word tasted particularly foul. “I’m sick and tired of feeling sorry, and of hearing about it, and—and you could still change that, Lydianne, if you’d give me another chance!”
Glenn’s sudden turnaround stunned her, as did the raw anguish in his expressive dark eyes.
“We could start again and take it at your speed,” he pleaded, leaning closer to emphasize his words. “If I knew you’d be my wife, even if I had to wait awhile, I could make it from one day to the next. I’d have a life again—”
Lydianne shook her head, stepping away when he grabbed her upper arm—but he kept his hold on her. This escalating exchange was not what she’d had in mind when she’d told Jeremiah she would ease the pressure between him and Glenn, but there was no escaping him. “Glenn, I can’t lie about my feelings—can’t promise I’ll ever love you enough to—”
“But Billy Jay adores you! I can give you a gut home and—and we can take our time about—”
“No, Glenn. It would never work.” Lydianne regretted being so abrupt, so cruel to a grieving man who believed she was the answer to all his prayers, yet there seemed no other way to get through to him.
Glenn blinked, still gripping her arm. “Fine, then,” he whispered starkly. “I had to give it one last try.”
When he suddenly slipped his arm around her shoulders, his kiss tasted like angst and anguish, bruising her lips with his desperation. Lydianne was too stunned to respond, until she freed herself with a gasp.
Glenn tossed his plate of pie back onto the table and stalked out of the barn. Aware that everyone had been watching them—especially the Slabaugh sisters, who stood wide-eyed at the pie table—Lydianne left, too, heading in a different direction from the way Glenn had gone.
How could her well-intentioned chat have gone so wrong? Why was Glenn so fixated on her, when her single girlfriends might’ve welcomed his attention? Lydianne felt so flustered and embarrassed, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. Since that wasn’t going to happen—and walking home wasn’t an option—it seemed best to duck behind the nearest outbuilding to pull herself together.
What with Glenn’s impassioned plea and kiss, as well as the embrace she’d shared with Jeremiah Sunday after church, folks surely had to be buzzing about the schoolteacher who seemed to be enticing various men beyond the bounds of appropriate public behavior. She’d given the Slabaugh sisters enough feed to keep them clucking for months about her moral state and her standing with the Lord. Deacon Saul and the other men on the school board might soon be calling for her to confess more than one secret sin of the flesh, after witnessing her behavior—
“Lydianne. Wait up, honey.”
Jeremiah’s low voice cut through her frantic thoughts as she reached the far side of the chicken house. “You have every reason to be upset by Glenn’s behavior—”
“People will think I led him on!” she protested, turning to face him. “Saul and Clarence already suspect me of wayward behavior, and the Slabaugh sisters will surely—and after everyone saw you hug me on Sunday, they’re all thinking I’m some sort of loose woman, leading the two of you on—”
“Whoa.” When he gently framed her face between his large, warm hands, Lydianne was struck by the deep affection in his eyes.
“Everyone saw the way Glenn grabbed you, and how you backed away,” Jeremiah pointed out. “And there was no mistaking your tone of voice when you told him his wishes were never going to come true.”
Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. “So, every person in the barn heard every word we said. Oh, my.”
“It’s embarrassing, but this, too, shall pass, Sunshine,” Jeremiah assured her. “We’ll chalk up Glenn’s last-ditch attempt to his grief and his staggering personal losses over the past few months. Take a deep breath, Lydianne.”
She blinked. When she inhaled and let the air out, however, her body began to relax.
“I have no trouble understanding why he gave it one last try, because I wouldn’t let you go without a struggle, either,” Jeremiah murmured as a smile lit up his face. “You’d be the solution to Glenn’s biggest problems, but I’m so glad you don’t want to be. Besides that, it’s too soon for him to hitch up with anyone—but he’s hurting too bad to realize it.”
Jeremiah’s soothing voice settled Lydianne’s nerves. He was talking her down from an emotional ledge simply by stating the way things were.
“And if you were trying to reconcile Glenn’s bitter feelings toward me, denki—but we should probably leave that be for now,” he suggested gently. “Glenn has a lot of healing to do, and a lot of immediate challenges. I suspect our best gifts to him will be our prayers, some meals and housekeeping, some help with his boys and Reuben, and our willingness to listen when he wants to talk.”
Lydianne nodded. She couldn’t deny the gentle wisdom behind the bishop’s words.
“I’d kiss you, but sure as I did, somebody would come around the chicken house looking for us,” he said with a chuckle. “Why don’t we mosey on back to the barn and see if it’s our turn to eat? I’d be delighted if you’d sit with me, Lydianne. We have nothing to hide, and I want everyone to know that our feelings for each other are honorable and appropriate and probably permanent—even though that pertinent question still hasn’t been asked or answered,” he added lightly.
When he waggled his dark eyebrows at her, Lydianne couldn’t help laughing and swatting at him. “What question might that be, Bishop Jeremiah?” she shot back.
He took her hand as they started back to the barn. “One of these days you might just find out,” he murmured. “God love me if you give me the same answer you gave Glenn today.”