Chapter Thirty
When Lydianne entered the large, homey Shetler kitchen ahead of Jeremiah, she inhaled the heavenly aromas of frying chicken and the golden cornbread muffins that were cooling on the countertop. The table was set for four with a clean blue tablecloth and what she suspected were the better-than-everyday dishes. Bowls of coleslaw, mashed potatoes, strawberry jam, and home-canned peach halves sat ready, and she assumed the lidded metal pan on the other counter held some sort of dessert.
“It’s gut to have you here, Lydianne,” Jeremiah’s mamm called from the stove as she carefully took pieces of crispy chicken from her cast iron skillet. She drained most of the grease and poured in milk thickened with flour. “We’re not having anything fancy for supper, understand—”
“Fancy doesn’t matter,” Lydianne replied. “After a busy day at The Marketplace, it’s wonderful to have someone else cooking my supper. Denki for having me over, on what I suspect was spur-of-the-moment notice,” she added with a wry nod in Jeremiah’s direction.
Margaret waved off her remark as she scraped the bottom of her skillet with a metal spatula. “Never you mind about that! It’s nice to have some company tonight—and you never know what Pete might add to the conversation. I suspect, because the Helfing twins have also been at The Marketplace all day, he wouldn’t be getting much in the way of supper, either.”
Jeremiah’s expression suggested a secret as he hung his and Lydianne’s jackets on pegs inside the mudroom door. “I’ll give you two a hint before Pete arrives, so you can be thinking about your requests,” he said, sounding extremely pleased with himself. “I’ve asked him to replace all the windows as well as to paint the outside of the house as soon as he can get to it. And this winter he’ll be doing some extensive remodeling inside.”
His mamm was so surprised she dropped her spatula. “What brought this on? Will this extensive remodeling mean we’ll be living with construction mess for months on end?”
“You will be living in your dawdi haus rooms, away from most of the commotion,” he reminded her kindly. “Although, if you want some improvements in the dawdi haus, besides the fresh paint I’ve already mentioned to Pete, just tell him what you’d like.”
Lydianne’s heart beat faster. Amish homes typically underwent renovation only when major changes happened in the family—such as adding rooms to accommodate a growing family or aging parents—or preparing for a new woman to take over the household.
“Otherwise,” Jeremiah continued, gesturing at the kitchen walls around them, “I’ve asked him to build us new cabinets in here, and to paint all the rooms and refinish the hardwood floors, and to update the bathroom. Because Priscilla doesn’t live here anymore, and I’m ready to start fresh.”
The way he added those final words, in a voice that thrummed with emotion, told Lydianne that the big change he was making in his life hadn’t come easily. Her heart went out to him, and she wasn’t sure what to say.
Margaret gazed at her son for several moments. Her smile came on like an autumn sunset, with a slow glow that brightened her entire outlook. “Gut for you, Jeremiah, and thanks be to God,” she murmured gratefully. “In that case, whatever commotion Pete causes while he works will be well worth it.”
As though the word commotion had been his cue, Riley burst through the mudroom and ran an excited lap around the kitchen table, yipping gleefully.
“Riley! Whoa!” Pete called out as he, too, entered the kitchen. “Don’t you dare grab hold of that tablecloth—”
“Riley,” Jeremiah murmured, establishing eye contact with the dog. “Sit, boy.”
Immediately the huge dog plunked himself on the floor at Jeremiah’s feet, gazing up at him with a doggy grin as he leaned into his leg. It was such a funny, endearing thing, watching the bishop so effortlessly make Pete’s retriever behave, that Lydianne almost laughed—but she sensed Margaret didn’t find the dog’s antics the least bit humorous.
“Pete, if that dog doesn’t settle down, he’s going outside,” Jeremiah’s mamm stated, crossing her arms. “We have a guest for dinner tonight and we don’t want to scare her off.”
Pete flashed Lydianne a wink. “I don’t think we have a thing to worry about, Mammi,” he replied. “Riley will settle down now that he’s seen everybody. If he can’t keep a lid on it, I’ll put him out.”
When Pete bussed his mammi’s cheek with a noisy kiss, the stiffness went out of Margaret’s shoulders. “I hear Jeremiah invited Molly and Marietta to join us tonight, but they declined his offer,” she said as she turned off the stove burners. “You haven’t been causing them any trouble, have you?”
Pete bit back a grin. “I suppose they decided to do something with Jo again tonight. Those maidels are as thick as thieves—present company excepted,” he added quickly as he glanced at Lydianne.
Lydianne laughed and held the bowl steady as Margaret poured the steaming gravy into it. “After a busy day at The Marketplace, we like to unwind over a pizza uptown—and chat about what we sold and who was there. Business talk.”
“Girl time,” Margaret put in. “Nothing wrong with that on a Saturday night—but we’re mighty glad you’ve joined us, dear. Denki for your help. We’re ready to sit down and enjoy our meal now.”
Lydianne didn’t miss the way Jeremiah pulled out the chair to the left of his place at the head of the table—where his wife would normally sit. As Margaret took the seat to Lydianne’s left and Pete sat down across the table from her, it felt more like a cozy family gathering she’d attended dozens of times, than a first dinner at the home of her potential husband . . . and mother-in-law.
Help me to say and do the right things, Lord, she prayed as they all bowed their heads for the silent grace. After all the years of eating with my girlfriends, keeping the secret I believed would prevent me from ever marrying, it’s such a blessing to be here in the Shetler home with the man who knows my past and loves me anyway.
As Jeremiah took two pieces of golden fried chicken and passed Lydianne the platter, his dark eyes glimmered with questions. “What does the ideal kitchen look like these days, Lydianne? What kind of cabinets are best—and how would they be arranged? And what sort of flooring would it include? Trends and products have changed over the years,” he added in explanation, “and I haven’t paid the least bit of attention to such stuff.”
Lydianne gripped the platter so she wouldn’t drop it. Jeremiah hadn’t said anything about the kitchen being hers—nor had he teased about renovating the kitchen when and if he asked her to marry him.
“I’ve never had to think about that,” she replied carefully, “because I moved into a rental house owned by an English landlord. And when I bought the place, I didn’t have the money—or the inclination—to change it around.”
His smile acknowledged her diplomatic dodge. “But if you did think about it, what would you choose?”
She took a chicken leg, not at all sure she could eat it. This conversation felt a lot like the open-ended essay quizzes she sometimes gave her older scholars, who were often hard-pressed to write the answers they thought Teacher Lydianne would consider correct. As she passed the platter to her left, she noticed that Margaret’s expression remained unreadable—and Jeremiah’s mamm didn’t seem eager to mention her own ideas, either.
“I’d need some time to give a gut answer,” Lydianne finally said. “The kitchen’s the hub of a household, and it wouldn’t do to make such decisions without considering the possibilities—or at least without spending time at a home improvement store to see what the options are. What do you think, Margaret?” she asked quickly.
The woman beside her let out a short laugh. “To me, a kitchen’s a kitchen, and as long as all the appliances work and the drain’s not clogged, I’m happy. But Jeremiah didn’t ask for my opinion,” she pointed out as she handed the chicken across the table to Pete. “What might be just as important is what you’d choose to put inside those cabinets—how much of the old cookware you’d replace with something new. And I’m happy not to be making that decision, either.”
Margaret’s answers sounded as vague as her own—probably because her son hadn’t yet announced that he and Lydianne were getting married. Even though their engagement would be welcome news, Jeremiah’s unspoken proposal was like that proverbial elephant in the room—everyone knew it was there, but no one wanted to talk about it.
Lydianne nodded as she accepted the bowl of mashed potatoes from Jeremiah, who showed no sign of commenting. It would be a major decision for any woman he chose as his new wife—how many of Priscilla’s pans, dishes, and appliances would remain—yet many Amish men wouldn’t even consider it a choice. They would simply assume that everything in the kitchen was fine and that any woman would be satisfied with the way it was.
With a glimmer of mischief, Lydianne decided to use a favorite classroom tactic to shift the focus away from her. “Jeremiah, it’s very progressive of you to solicit my opinion about what makes an ideal kitchen,” she remarked, keeping a straight face as she passed the potatoes to his mother. “Why do you ask?”
Startled by her direct question, Jeremiah dropped the gravy bowl. Thick, golden goop splattered his shirt and the tablecloth as the heavy bowl’s edge hit his dinner plate and broke it. Pete burst out laughing, which in turn made Riley jump up from his spot under the table to start barking as though a fire had broken out.
Lydianne sprang to her feet with her paper napkin, immediately sorry she’d caused such a ruckus. As she and Jeremiah hurried to wipe the gravy from his shirt before it dribbled down farther, she tried to think of an appropriate apology.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t—”
“No, you’re not,” he said under his breath.
“—mean to come at you broadside with—”
“Yes, you did.”
Lydianne blinked. She tossed her saturated napkin onto his broken plate, confused by his muttered responses—until she noticed the lines around his eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter. Still seated calmly, Margaret was also fighting a smile. Pete was laughing so hard he was wiping his eyes, and Riley’s excited barking escalated into howls as he circled the table with his wagging tail held high.
Lydianne couldn’t recall the last time she’d caused so much chaos—
Oh, but I upset the apple cart big-time when I confessed that Ella was my child. Jeremiah took that in stride, too—just as he’s chuckling at the way I tried to flush out his real question.
Jeremiah pointed at Riley. “Sit.”
The golden obeyed his quiet command immediately. The kitchen filled with welcome silence.
As the man beside her rose from his chair, he held Lydianne’s gaze. “I’ll deal with you later,” he murmured with a smile. “You folks go ahead and eat while the food’s hot. I’m changing my shirt.”
When Jeremiah was out of earshot, his mamm went over to lift the overturned gravy bowl from the table.
Lydianne stood to pick up the two halves of the plate, careful to keep the gravy and Jeremiah’s food on it. “Margaret, I’m sorry your pretty plate got broken—”
“All you did was ask the same question that was buzzing around in my mind,” she put in lightly. “It was worth a broken dish to see you take Jeremiah by surprise.”
“Got what he deserved,” Pete said, scraping gravy from the tablecloth with his spoon. “And you gave him a reasonable answer, too, Lydianne, about going to the home improvement store to see what sorts of cabinets and flooring are available.
“Don’t let him off easy, girl,” he added with a laugh. “It’s gut when somebody makes Jeremiah toe the line the same way he insists that folks at church—and me—live up to his expectations.”
* * *
As he and Lydianne strolled down the lane toward the river, Jeremiah’s emotions bubbled like a copper cauldron of the apple butter many folks were making as October came to a close. After getting through the rest of supper without further incident, he knew it was time to state his case—yet he still felt more jittery than a teenager asking a pretty girl to ride home from a Singing. Even though he and the lovely young woman walking beside him had teased each other about his proposal for quite a while, wording it just the right way was another matter altogether.
And now that Lydianne had called his bluff with her purposeful question, his proposal really had to measure up. Any woman who could make him drop a bowl of gravy deserved words as effective as hers had been. Lydianne was intelligent, with a sharper sense of timing and humor than any other woman he knew. Those attributes were among the many reasons he loved her—but what a challenge she was!
“It’s a beautiful evening,” Lydianne murmured as she slipped her small, sturdy hand into his. “These maples and sweet gum trees are the most colorful I’ve seen this fall, with their bright reds and oranges and golds.”
But their beauty doesn’t hold a candle to yours.
Jeremiah hesitated to voice that sentiment. Would it sound too sappy or old fashioned for a forward-thinking woman like Teacher Lydianne? Her true beauty was inside, after all. She was more than just a pretty face.
“This section of the farm is one of my favorites,” Jeremiah responded, hoping he hadn’t let too many seconds tick by. “From here, you can see the fields where my popcorn crop’s been harvested, as well as the pasture where our horses graze—”
“And look at the way your house is shining in the last rays of the sunset,” Lydianne murmured with awe in her voice. “The white walls seem to glow from the inside out, radiating all the love of the family who lives there.”
Jeremiah’s throat tightened with emotion. As he gazed at the house he’d looked at thousands of times in his years of living here, with and without Priscilla, his heart suddenly saw it in a whole new light—
And that light comes straight from Lydianne, from a heart so loving and dedicated, that I’m not sure I deserve her.
“What a fine sentiment. I wish I’d said that,” he murmured. He certainly couldn’t voice his doubts about deserving her, for fear she’d agree with him. “I—I’m really glad Pete’s going to paint it soon and freshen it up inside over the winter months, too. It’s work that’s long overdue—”
“And you really are being very generous, Jeremiah, asking my opinion about those renovations,” Lydianne put in. “I—I didn’t mean to put you on the spot at supper or—”
“You did, too!” he blurted as he pulled her close in a playful hug. “And I needed that—and I need you, Lydianne, and please will you marry me because you’re making me so crazy I can’t think straight and—and I love you so much,” he blurted out. “Please say you will!”
He closed his eyes with an anguished sigh. He’d sounded like an absolute idiot who couldn’t string three words together in a meaningful sentence. At this most important moment, when he’d intended to be every bit as eloquent as Lydianne, he’d fallen flat. He didn’t dare turn her loose and let her walk away, yet he couldn’t look at her, either.
As the silence stretched between them, he knew he was doomed.
“Oh, Jeremiah, I love you, too,” Lydianne finally whispered in a trembling voice. “Of course, I’ll—yes! Yes, I’ll be your wife!”
His heart stood still. His soul soaked up the peace and grace—and joy!—that enveloped him, surely gifts from God Himself. When he opened his eyes, Lydianne’s crystal-blue gaze unhinged him and he hugged her close. The tear dribbling down each of her velvety cheeks touched him deeply as he let her answer sink in.
She said yes! Lydianne has agreed to be my wife!
Jeremiah chuckled, mostly at himself. “You know, I’ve delivered dozens of sermons, depending upon the Lord to give me the right ideas and the words to express them. Yet when I asked you to—well, I must’ve sounded like I didn’t have a brain in my head—”
Lydianne placed a finger across his lips to silence him. “You sounded like a man who’s in love—with me,” she added in a whisper. “Since the moment I knew a baby was on the way—more than six years ago, after I’d lost Aden—I’ve believed no other man would have me. Yet you, a bishop, forgave my secret past and—”
“Do you have any idea what a sense of hope I’ve known since we’ve been together?” Jeremiah interrupted her gently. “I thought I’d never have another chance at a new family, but now—”
His heart felt so overwhelmed with emotion, he embraced Lydianne again, loving the way her arms encircled him as though she’d never let him go. “Now, as I think ahead to late spring, when we’ll marry, I realize that by this time next year—”
“I could be carrying your child, Jeremiah,” she finished in a whisper. “I can’t wait!”
“Oh, don’t say that!” he shot back with a desperate laugh. “You’re way too tempting, Lydianne, and if we don’t wait, we’ll have to answer to—”
“I know. A bishop and his woman have to toe the line. I’ll try to behave,” she murmured. She looked him straight in the eye as color rose into her flawless cheeks. “But I want you, too.”
Jeremiah sighed from the depth of his soul and eased away from her. “We’d better keep walking,” he suggested as he took her hand again. “I’m all too aware of how long it’s been since . . . a wife shared my bed.”
As they followed the trail to his favorite place beside the river, he realized how much Lydianne had blessed his life by simply being her inimitable self. He could already imagine his mother’s excitement when they returned to the house to share their news, but at this moment he wanted to savor Lydianne’s company. Dry leaves rustled beneath their feet as the gurgling of the river’s current called to Jeremiah as it always had—like the voice of God, ever moving forward, reminding him that life never stood still.
“Ohhh. Look at this place,” Lydianne whispered. “See the way the last of the day’s light plays on the leaves? Smell the dampness of the shoreline, and hear how the water sings as it flows along? And look!” she said, pointing upward. “There’s an eagle!”
Indeed, a lone bird soared far above them, drifting effortlessly on the currents of wind beneath its wings.
“They nest a little farther down the river, on the bluffs,” Jeremiah explained. “I come here when I need to think through a problem, or to let go of troubling thoughts—or when I just want to bask in the sunshine on top of that big flat boulder, and remind myself of all the gifts God’s brought into my life. Like you, Lydianne.”
Her smile made him shimmer all over. “Listen to you, saying all the right things the right way,” she said softly. “May I join you in your spot?”
“I was hoping you would.”
Before he could help her, Lydianne assessed the smaller rocks and nimbly clambered over them to the top of the boulder. As she sat down, her attentive gaze told Jeremiah that she was taking in the details of this place and appreciating them as deeply as he did. He lowered himself beside her, gently wrapping his arm around her slender shoulders.
“I . . . I’ve never sat here with anyone else.”
“Not even Priscilla?” she whispered. Her eyes widened as she considered this.
Jeremiah shook his head. “She kept her distance from the river because the current scared her, and she couldn’t swim. She understood that when I took my walks, I often came here to have some quiet time—not that she was noisy or intrusive,” he added wistfully.
“This could still be your place, Jeremiah—your special getaway—”
“But if you’ll share it with me, it’ll be even more special, Lydianne.” He drank in the sight of her soft skin and the blond hair pulled neatly beneath her fresh white kapp—and the blue eyes that sparkled with such a sense of promise. “I mostly wanted to show it to you because this is where I found Ella after we’d been searching for her all night. She was curled up right here on top of this rock, because it had retained the day’s warmth.”
Lydianne’s eyes filled with tears of wonder. “She came here looking for God, and she heard His voice,” she whispered. “As long as I live, I’ll never forget the moment she said that—not because she’s my child, but because she’d had such a holy moment.”
“And she recognized it for what it was,” Jeremiah put in. He reached for Lydianne’s hand again as he recalled that moment of joy and relief, finding Ella in the spot where they were sitting. “She looked so peaceful and trusting, so sweet—like an angel taking a nap. And she looked exactly like you, Sunshine.”
“Resemblance aside, Ella is the greatest gift I’ve received in my lifetime,” she whispered. “And right now, you’re running a pretty close second, Jeremiah.”
When Lydianne rested her head against his shoulder, Jeremiah felt a deep sense of satisfaction—the certainty that this was the first evening of the rest of their lives, and that God had meant for them to find each other the way He’d led little Ella to this safe place.
“I feel we’re sitting on hallowed ground, you and I,” he murmured. “That’s another reason I hope we can consider this spot by the river our place.”
When she smiled at him, Jeremiah saw himself reflected in her crystal blue eyes—and he loved being there.
“Anyplace can be our place,” Lydianne said. “As long as we’re there together, jah?”
Once again, she’d left him speechless. Jeremiah smiled, knowing he’d better get used to that.