A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series) (46 page)

Sometimes
Gotte
did take people from your life, like her first
mamm
, Hope.

But sometimes He gave you extra—like Rachel,
daddi
Joshua and
mammi
Abigail, and Miriam.

She’d spent a lot of time worrying about
mammi
this year, and now it seemed as if she was better. Doc Hanson’s medicine had worked. Or maybe their prayers had worked. Possibly it took both.

She stared back down at Rachel, who had managed to drool all over the front of her dress. How much drool did one baby have? Why did they have so much? Where did it all come from?

Life was sure hard to understand.

Maybe she didn’t need to figure it out. Maybe she needed to keep praying, and going to Doc Hanson if the need arose, and seeing the bishop—both bishops.

That thing about Gus, though. She’d have to think about that. Maybe she would go home and read about Balaam’s donkey.

Chapter 40

A
aron was relieved when Lydia agreed to allow him to drive her home after the church service. He’d borrowed David’s extra buggy again, hoping she would say yes, but he’d been worried she would say no.

He was more than a little nervous. His hands were actually sweating on the reins. He wiped them on his pants and stole a glance in her direction.

She still wasn’t talking much. And she had her arms folded around her stomach.

“Did you have enough to eat?”

“
Ya
. No.” Lydia sighed and glanced out the side of the buggy. “What I mean is I didn’t eat much. I wasn’t very hungry.”

“
Ya
. Me either.”

Lydia studied him a moment, started to say something, but then she stopped herself.

“What is it?”

“Only that I’m wondering why you’d lie about a small thing like eating.”

“I wouldn’t lie—”

“Aaron Troyer, only an hour ago I saw you eating a giant piece of shoofly pie.”

Aaron settled back against the buggy seat. He’d rather have Lydia argue with him than have her silent.

He’d rather have her in the buggy with him than be alone.

The truth of that hit him deep in his heart and settled over him like the sight of a well-plowed field. He took a steadying breath and thought back over the afternoon.

“
Ya
. I forgot about the shoofly. But who can refuse a piece of your pie?” When Lydia only stared at him, he added, “And I barely ate any dinner at all. That’s what I meant when I said I didn’t eat much—didn’t eat much dinner. I couldn’t stomach it.”

“But you could stomach something that’s made from shortening, flour, sugar, and molasses?”

Switching the reins from his right hand to his left, Aaron ran his hand over his jaw. “I thought there was some nutmeg and cinnamon in there as well.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her pretty lips, and that made the ball of tension in his stomach unwind enough to allow him to relax for the first time in several days. Had it been Thursday when it seemed she’d been crying while cleaning cabin five? Why would that have caused her to cry?

“You were supposed to turn down that lane, Aaron.”

“Oh,
ya
.” Aaron checked the road behind him as he slowed the mare. “I know the way to your home. I thought maybe we had time to go by the cabins before I took you to your parents’.”

Smoothing her dress, Lydia stared down at it. He thought she would say no, and the knot in his stomach tightened again. When she glanced up, her golden brown eyes met his, and she nodded once.

He set the mare to a trot before she had a chance to change her mind.

The cabins looked like something from an
Englisch
storybook.
Bathed in the light from the setting sun, they had a gentle appearance. The white fluffy bank of western clouds helped to paint the perfect scene.

What wasn’t to like, though? The hedges were neatly trimmed. The shutters and porches were freshly painted. Only last week they had both worked to lay gravel along the path leading from one cabin to the next.

Pumpkin was curled up on the office steps, winking at them as Aaron pulled the buggy to a stop.

Behind it all lay Pebble Creek.

It was a quieter stream than the one that had greeted him in early May, still moving past the cabins but not in as big of a hurry. Like Aaron, the river seemed content to take its time, to pause and enjoy the bend and the scene, the beauty of the alcove.

Things had changed here since he’d arrived, and he knew that he had Gabe, David, and Lydia to thank for that. Even Seth had proven to be a big help. He couldn’t have done it alone. Because of their work, Elizabeth and the girls would be able to stay in Pebble Creek. Their life here was secure. After spending nearly two months getting to know them and their community, he understood better than ever why that was important.

Gotte
had plans for them here, and he hoped that maybe
Gotte
had plans for him here too.

The cabins and the stream weren’t all that had changed. He was different.

As he took Lydia’s hand in his and led her to the swing by the banks of the creek, he realized that he no longer resented being here. It was the thought of
not
being here that frightened him.

“
Was iss letz
?” He asked as they sat in the swing.

He thought she’d wave his question away, or deny that anything was wrong, but instead she stared down at their hands, drew in a deep breath, and haltingly began to speak.

“I’m not sure. Lately, instead of wondering what is wrong, I wonder what is right.”

Aaron reached out and touched her face. He didn’t stop to think if it was proper. Touching her felt so natural. “Look in front of us, Lydia. Look at the river. How can you wonder what is right? Everything is. It’s like the verses from the Psalms the preacher read today. ‘How majestic is your name in all the earth.’”

“Psalm eight. I remember.”

“I hear those words, read them, and in my mind I picture this spot.
Gotte
has blessed us.”

Lydia nodded, covered his hand with hers, and pulled it away from her cheek and into her lap. “I know what you’re saying. When I focus on nature, I do feel that everything is
gut
, but then my mind wanders, and everything turns upside down.”

Instead of interrupting her, he waited.

“The flooding was bad before you came, Aaron. We never talked about it, but every day I would come and the water would have swept more debris up to the steps. I would clean it away and pray that the river would go down.”

He glanced from the peaceful waters in front of him back to her.

“And it did go down, but it left behind more work than I knew how to deal with.” She brushed at a tear with her free hand. “You arrived just after…”

“I didn’t make a
gut
first impression.”

“You saw the work left behind from all that Ervin couldn’t do, from all the flooding had left. It was tremendous. If you hadn’t come, this—” She turned and looked back toward the cabins. “All of this would still look as it did after the flooding. Probably it would be closed by now.”

“I’m glad I came, but surely others would have helped you. The people in your district, they are kind.”

“
Ya
. I suppose you’re right. It’s only that I’d become so used to doing things alone…” Now the tears tracked down her cheeks and he reached out, had to reach out, and brush them away with his thumb. “I forgot how to ask. What if I forget again, after you leave?”

“First of all, these are not your cabins to work alone. They are
also Elizabeth’s, and though she has a family to raise she will help with any decisions. Ervin should have included her in the decision making as I do now. Any questions you have, you go to her. Okay?”

Lydia nodded.

“Secondly,” he paused so she would raise her eyes to meet his, but she didn’t—wouldn’t—so he continued. “Who says I’m leaving?”

She turned to face him, finally, and he thought he could gaze into those brown eyes every morning. That would be a pleasure. It would be a blessing.

“You haven’t said you’re staying.”

He wanted to ask her that very minute, but he knew she had other questions. Their life together needed to begin on solid footing.

“I promise we’ll speak of that before darkness falls, but what other questions have been troubling you?”

“Why didn’t I notice the problems Mattie was struggling with?”

“I didn’t realize you two were
gut freinden
.”

“We weren’t, but I should have been there for her. If I had, maybe she wouldn’t be in the trouble she’s facing.”

Aaron stood and pulled Lydia to her feet. They walked along the path that ran beside the river. “You two have something in common—your stubborn nature. She wanted to handle it on her own.”

“
Ya
.”

“Perhaps she was determined to hide things from everyone, but now that it’s in the open you can be her
freind
. I heard Miriam is bringing her here tomorrow.”

Lydia nodded.

“You can’t be responsible for what you didn’t know, Lydia. It hurts,
ya
. Same as it hurts me that I didn’t realize my
onkel
needed our family’s help, but he chose not to share that with us.”

They walked around a bend in the path and startled a rabbit on the path. It blinked, nose twitching, before hopping into the brush.

“I was too quick to suspect others when the first burglary happened. Your friend Tim…I was sure in my heart it was him.”

“Because he’s different?”

“I suppose. It’s hard for me to believe an
Englischer
would choose to live our way.”

“We can’t know what’s in someone else’s heart, Lydia.”

“
Ya
. You’re right.”

“I think you’d like Tim if you took the time to know him, and his wife, Jeanette. She’s trying to be a writer.”

Lydia nodded and cleared her throat. “The night of the second burglary, you guessed that Jerry was using drugs. How did you know that?”

Aaron laced his fingers with hers. He remembered now that he’d seen a look of alarm on her face that evening, but so much had happened so quickly that he couldn’t place what had startled her.