The Amish Bride of Ice Mountain (23 page)

Chapter Forty-Three

For the second time in less than five days, Jude woke, not sure exactly where he was. Then he recognized the Umbles’ afghan and sighed aloud as remnants of his fit with Mahlon Mast came back to him.

“Jude?”

He turned to peer up at Mary. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

“You—have to stop scaring me like this!” Her voice broke and Jude caught her hand, drawing it to his lips.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“As you should be.”

Jude couldn’t believe his ears. He blinked and stared around Mary’s waist to see Mahlon Mast sitting in a chair beside the couch. The older man looked red-faced and harassed, but there was something different in his eyes, something calm, that gave Jude pause.

Mary let go of his hand and stepped away, and Jude swallowed hard. “I guess I owe you an apology, Mast.”

“Mahlon,” the older man corrected him absently.

“Mahlon.” Jude found it wasn’t so hard to say once he’d let go of a little pride. “I’m sorry. I, uh, have some problems with my father. And I suppose he’s about your age, so for whatever reason, I . . .”

Mahlon shook his head. “Don’t need to explain. My
fater
too was a . . . hard man. Broke my spirit long ago, but you still got some left,
buwe
. Hang on to it.” He drew out a red handkerchief and blew his nose fiercely.

Jude was quiet. Hearing the years of abuse that had probably been heaped on the other man as it had been piled on him—it gave him a strange feeling of kinship with Mahlon, as if he were a stranger no longer.

“Well,” Mahlon said, slapping his hands to his knees. “I’d best git back to yer cabin. We should have it done by tomorrow. And . . . my
kinner
will see you Wednesday, if yer up to it to be teaching.”

Jude extended his hand and Mahlon took it in a fierce grip, then stomped away and out the door.

 

 

Mary wiped her eyes and stepped back in Jude’s line of vision after Mahlon had gone.

“That was . . . odd,” Jude said, a half smile on his lips.

“But I think it was
Gott
’s plan.” She handed him his glasses.

He slid them on and nodded. “I suppose—and at least it showed me how much anger and hurt I have in regard to my father. I wonder if you ever get over something like that or if it keeps on hurting forever?”

She felt her eyes well with tears again. “I don’t like the thought of you hurting forever—I believe when
Gott
says He can make all things new—not that you’ll ever have a relationship with your
fater
, but maybe that
Derr Herr
can make your heart new, your thoughts and feelings new.”

“My wise
Amisch frau
. . .” He held out a hand to her and she took it, letting him pull her down to sit on him sideways as he reclined on the couch. He reached up to thumb his way across her cheek, making her feel fragile as she leaned into his hand.

“Do you know how many days are left until you can become my wife in every sense of the word?”

She shook her head. “I forgot to count.”

He bounced his hips a bit, jiggling her. “Shame on you . . . Well, I know—after today, it’ll be twelve.”

She mentally counted, then giggled when she lost track. “Almost two weeks. What are you going to do to—discipline yourself until then?”

He stretched beneath her. “Oh, I don’t know. Teach . . . bathe in the creek . . . court and bathe in the creek . . . learn my Penn Dutch and . . .”

“Bathe in the creek?” she questioned, leaning over to put her weight on his chest.

“Yep.”

She bent to kiss him, slow and deep, until he arched against her, all hard pressure and leashed power. She ran her hands across his chest. “I love you, Jude Lyons.”

“And I love you, Mary Lyons . . . Now, how about that suggestion of making out?”

She bounced off him abruptly.

“Hey,” he groaned. “
Kumme
back.”

“Nee.”
She shook her head. “My offer to make out was simply to divert you, nothing else.”

“Now who’s
Frau
Teaser?”

“Me,” she laughed, then turned to go to the kitchen to get him his medicine.

 

 

Early Wednesday morning, Jude hugged his mother in a tight grip. “Be careful going down, all right? Tell the driver to be careful on these mountain roads. And, Mom, thanks for all you’ve done here. I’m really proud to have you visit—anytime.”

“Anytime,” Mary echoed, enjoying the embrace of the older woman.

“You’re darlings, both of you.” Lydia smiled, her eyes shining with happy tears. “And remember, after this whole courting thing—well, I’ll expect the grandchildren to come for Christmas with you now and then.”

Jude smiled at Mary’s flustered response and then watched Joseph and Edward head off down the mountain with his mom walking easily in between.

“She’s different,” he said once they were out of sight. “More fun and relaxed.” He didn’t add the reason . . . Mary understood it well enough.

He cleared his throat. “Want to come to the Umbles’ for breakfast? The bishop says he’s got some tips for me before I start teaching today . . . it ought to be interesting.”

“I’d like to, but the women and I are having a paint frolic today at our cabin, remember?”

He reached down to pull her close. “Are you using yellow paint, by any chance?”

“
Nee—
light blue.”

“Hmmm . . . very
Amisch
.” He nuzzled her neck.

“I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’d like you.”

“I know,” she whispered, hiding her face for a moment in his dark coat.

He smiled and squeezed her tight. “Have fun, then.”

She nodded and he watched her walk off, Bear tagging behind, and then he turned back to the Umbles’.

 

 

“I’m not saying it has to be a big production.” The bishop waved his piece of toast like a conductor. “Something small is
gut
, but fun . . . everyone expects some fun.”

Jude took a bite of his scrambled eggs and tried to control the rising panic he felt inside. “You mean to tell me that I start teaching today and there’s a community school Christmas program on the twentieth? That’s two weeks to get nineteen kids into some sort of holiday theme—it is not a recipe for fun, I’ll tell you that. You’re going to get recitations and ‘Silent Night’ and that’s about all.”

“
Ach
, well . . .” Bishop Umble shook his head regretfully. “I thought you were made of sterner stuff.”

Jude knew he was rising to the bait but he didn’t care. “Do you remember my idea of fun at Thanksgiving? That went over well.”

The bishop laughed. “Mahlon likes you now.”

“Yeah . . . right.”

“
Kumme
on,
buwe
. Buck up! How hard can it be for a wise professor like yourself to get nineteen kids in order in two weeks’ time? It’ll be no problem.”

Jude chewed his eggs.
Yeah . . . no problem.

 

 

Mary wielded the paintbrush with an expert hand. She loved to paint, and having the other women of the community laughing and talking throughout the cabin made the work all the more fun. She turned to the paint bucket and dipped her brush in at the same time as someone else. She looked up with a smile to see Sarah Mast, the girl she’d thought Edward might be interested in at Thanksgiving.

Sarah looked even paler than usual and Mary caught her hand, drawing the brush from the other girl’s grip. “Sarah, let’s walk outside for a breath of fresh air. These paint fumes are heavy.”

Sarah agreed with visible reluctance and Mary hurried her out, grabbing their cloaks as she went. They walked a bit away from the new cabin, beyond the happy couplets of women laughing while they worked washing windows. Mary impulsively put a hand on Sarah’s arm when they were out of earshot of any potential listeners.

“Sarah, forgive me if I’m wrong, but I saw you and Edward at the Umbles’ at Thanksgiving, and I thought—well, I—he seemed to like you.”

Sarah paled even further. “
Jah
, we’ve been seeing each other.”

“But that’s
gut
, right?” Mary asked, not understanding the strange expression on the other girl’s face.

Sarah’s blue eyes welled with sudden tears. “
Jah
, it would be, but—but—he’s leaving.”

Mary stared at her in consternation. “What do you mean—leaving?”

“He’s leaving after the holidays to go work the Marcellus Shale rigs. He wants to make money so we can get married, but I fear that it will change him to leave the mountain.”

Mary tried to picture Edward out on the gas rigs . . . She knew it was hard labor and that the
Englisch
men might be even harder, but Edward was strong. Yet she couldn’t imagine life without her middle
bruder
.

“
Sei se gut
, don’t tell anyone, Mary. Edward did not want me to speak of it—no one knows we’re even courting, of course.”

Mary caught her hand. “Of course I won’t—though I might tell Jude. He won’t say anything, and perhaps he can talk to Edward . . . see if there’s some other way around this idea of making money to marry.”

“I’ve tried to talk him out of it, but . . . he, well, he doesn’t get on well with my
fater
, and he wants to be independent.”

“Of course,” Mary agreed. They turned in mutual accord to walk back to the cabin, but the day had lost some of its fun as Mary considered her
bruder
’s decision.

Jude gazed at the students of all ages staring back at him and knew he’d never been as nervous, even teaching at the university level. There were all grades represented, from first through eighth . . . and probably one or two younger than first who’d been sent along by their
mamms
for good measure.

“Herr Dokator?”
One little boy raised a thin hand.

I might as well start where I mean to begin
. . . Jude shook his head slightly. “Let’s all work on speaking English, shall we? The bishop told me that was his wish this morning. So, you may call me Professor Lyons.”

The little boy tried again. “Professor Lyons?”

“
Ja
—yes?”

“Mother says I have an awful nervous stomach, and there was something funny tasting about that scrapple we ate this morning—I think I’m going to . . .”

Jude moved fast with the waste can, but not fast enough. He got his boots splattered in the unfortunate process and sent the boy outside to clean up at the pump.

Later, he’d consider it the highlight of the day because everything went downhill from there. Girls cried over his being a male teacher, boys looked disgusted, got bored, and had to be restrained from wrestling, and the scrapple from breakfast made a second visit to the classroom. Jude, opening the windows and taking slow breaths, decided he’d well earn his pay and thought with brief longing of the steers in the Umbles’ feed yard.

Chapter Forty-Four

Mary stroked Jude’s hair as he lay with his head buried in his arms at her
dat
’s kitchen table. It was late Wednesday and she knew that he was tired as well as discouraged.

“Was it really that bad?” she asked softly.

“Worse,” he mumbled, not lifting his head. “And I’ve got to get that rabble organized for the whole community to see. I’m used to talking to college kids, and besides, the littlest ones are terrified of me, I think.”

Mary sighed. “The bishop didn’t tell you that the last teacher left, did he?”

Jude turned his head to open one eye at her. “What? Why?”

“Well,
Amisch
schools are usually very ordered and the children extremely well-behaved. But the
kinner
here on the mountain have run a bit wild and are probably spoiled to some extent. Teachers have come and gone, and past Christmas programs have not been . . . all that
wunderbaar
.”

He lifted his head. “Really?”

“I guess I’ve been setting it up in my mind as this big thing that I have to do to prove myself to the community.”

“But, Jude,” she answered gently. “You don’t have to seek approval . . . you’re accepted here—you’re part of us. The
Amisch
talk of community sometimes as grains of wheat being sifted together to make a single batch of bread—each one contributes what he or she can, and all work together to create something nourishing.”

He adjusted his glasses and thought for a minute. “Yeah . . . but we both know that
Amisch
communities aren’t perfect. They’re idealized, certainly, but people are people, with all of their flaws and shortcomings,
Amisch
or
Englisch
.”

Mary nodded in agreement. “I know, but maybe you can trust that the
Amisch
do have a corner on community.”

He thought of the myriad subdivisions he knew where neighbors two or three doors down never spoke to each other, simply pulled their expensive cars in and out of their garages, closing their doors, closing their lives . . .

He reached over and took her hand. “All right, sweetheart. Thank you—I’ve got trust issues when it comes to being accepted.”

“I’ll always accept you,” she said solemnly.

It was a simple declaration, given with ease and love, yet it shook him to the core. He turned to gather her close in his arms, pressing his lips against her forehead in a fervent kiss.
Thank God for her . . . thank You, God . . .

“Professor Lyons?” The little boy who’d baptized the floor his first day of school raised his hand and Jude automatically grabbed the waste can.

“Yes, Rob? Are you sick?”

“No, sir. I wanted to ask if we could make some decorations for the Christmas program. My
mamm
—uh, mother said she’d make some raisin-filled cookies to bring if I do a good job.”

There were some murmurs from other students, citing their own mothers’ promises for snacks, and Jude considered the idea of decorations
. I need my mother here, and her interior design people . . .

One of the older girls, Tabitha, raised her hand and he called on her. “I know how to make garland out of construction paper, and we could do red Christmas roses out of tissue—if we had some. And, Professor, what are we actually going to be doing?”

The oldest boy, Daniel, who fetched the mail, raised a hand with some hesitancy. “Uh, my dad always says to come get what we need from the store . . . I’ve been working on carving a crèche with him and some of the other fellas—maybe we can display that at the program.”

Jude smiled. “That’s great, Dan. Yes, as a matter of fact, I’ll stop by your dad’s store on my way home tonight and get everything we need. Tabitha, make a list please. And I’ll—uh—have what we’re going to do for the program ready for you tomorrow. ”
And I’ll persuade my wife to help me figure that out.

He watched as even the older children gathered around Tabby and offered suggestions for her to write down, and then he remembered Mary’s description of the wheat kernels and the bread. The small community of his classroom was beautifully proving her analogy. He decided that maybe being the schoolteacher might not be so bad after all.

 

 

Jude was on his way to Mary’s for a night of courting and classroom planning when he met Joseph along the moonlit trail. Joseph carried a lantern, which he swung in a disconsolate manner that caught Jude’s attention.

“What’s up, Joe?”

Joseph sighed and turned to walk with him slowly, back toward Abner’s home. “Edward is leaving to work on the rigs.”

“Mary told me. I’ve been looking for a chance to talk to him, but nothing’s come up. He’s elusive at times.”

“
Jah
. . . he is that. I’ve decided with
Dat
that I can’t let him go off alone. I’m worried that he’d be too easily influenced by the outside world, and he’s moody enough to get himself into trouble working with
Englischers
—no offense meant.”

“None taken.” Jude smiled. “I’m becoming
Amisch
, remember?”

“Sorry, I know.”

Jude thought as they walked. “So, are you really going for Edward, or is this a
gut
way for you to escape the mountain too?”

Joseph half laughed. “Mary says you’re smart . . . it’s both reasons, I guess.”

“And you’re afraid that it’s you who might not want to come back?”

“Right . . . what happens if I go out there and find that it’s better for me?”

Jude stopped and Joseph paused with him, staring down at the ground.

“Look, Joe, I am not great at understanding and knowing all the faith stuff yet, but aren’t we supposed to believe that
Gott
leads us, gives us direction and has an individual purpose for our lives?”

“You’ve been studying to some purpose, I’d say . . .
Jah
, you’re right.
Danki
for the reminder.”

Jude laughed ruefully as they walked on. “Believe me, it’s something I need to learn better myself.”

Joseph clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, whatever the plan, I’m glad that you were brought here to be my
bruder
-in-law.”

“You have no idea how much that means to me. Thanks, Joe.”

They walked on in silent accord until the lights from the cabin came into view.

 

 

Mary was pleased to see Jude and Joseph enter the cabin together. She hoped that Jude had been able to give her
bruder
some advice since her family had finally discovered Edward’s plan and Joseph’s idea to go with him.

Joseph put his lantern on the table and nodded at her. “I’ll be going to bed to leave you two to your courting.”

Mary looked at Jude when her brother had gone. “Did you talk?”

Jude turned from hanging up his coat and hat. “Yep. I think it’s a good thing for Joseph to go, Mary.”

“I don’t know what
Dat
will do.”

“He can live with us—we’ve got two extra rooms.”

Mary smiled with pleasure at his easy thoughtfulness. “
Nee, danki
, Jude. I know you mean it, but even though I’m concerned about my
fater
, I have to admit that a newly married couple needs time alone for—well, time alone.” She paused awkwardly and he came forward to take her into his arms.

“Time alone? Tell me what you expect from that time alone,
Frau
Lyons.”

She smiled up at him, then shook her head and buried her face in his shirt, loving the fresh smell of him—like summer and pine and the outdoors.

“Kumme
on, sweetheart. You’re talking to a man who has to do some persuading tonight with you, and I need a few ideas.”

She lifted her face. “Why do I need to be persuaded?”

“To help me plan the Christmas program . . . nothing big, only some ideas.”

She stretched on tiptoe to reach his mouth. “My price is one kiss per idea,” she breathed against his lips.

He bent his head and complied with eager warmth.