The Promise Box (11 page)

“But I wasn’t ready then. I didn’t know I was ready until I came back. Something changed
when I first spotted this house from the road. I felt a sense of returning…even when
I hadn’t realized I’d been gone.”

Dat pushed the plate away from him, and Lydia looked down at hers, no longer hungry
either.

“Mem…” The word swelled and filled her throat. She swallowed hard and forced herself
to continue. “Mem wanted it more than anything, I know.”

He folded his hands on his lap, then unfolded them as if trying to decide what to
do. A longing came over her: Lydia wanted to run to him and climb into his lap like
she had when she was five.

“Daughter, are you sure you want this? It will change…everything.”

She nodded. “I want…yes. I’m ready to do this.” As she said the words, a peace she
wasn’t expecting fell on her. The truth was she wasn’t choosing to be Amish as much
as she was choosing God. God’s plan. It was the right choice, she knew.

“I know the days and weeks to come won’t be easy. There are things to take care of
back in Seattle. It’ll be like trying to
fit my foot into shoes I wore six years ago. But I trust I’ll get used to the old
ways again.”

Dat nodded, and tore off a piece of crust from his bread.

“A teacher, then?”

“Well, I would like to apply. There is a need, and I’ve—” She was about to mention
the years of college she had, but she knew that would most likely be a detriment rather
than a benefit. Growing up in the middle of an Amish community, teachers served as
role models in Amish society. They taught not only with their knowledge, but with
their lives.

“It might take awhile, but I’d like to earn their trust. I really do think I could
be a person who could reinforce what the people in this community teach at home.”

Dat eyed her. His thick gray eyebrows twitched slightly, and she guessed what he was
thinking.
You’re still in
Englisch
dress, and you think you can be an example?

He cleared his throat. “
Ja
, I’d focus on that. Before you talk to anyone about your desire to teach this fall,
I’d focus on the returning.”

She understood that his trust would be the one she’d have to gain first. Even though
he loved her, she’d hurt him and Mem in so many ways—moving out, not writing often,
visiting even less. It would take work to rebuild the relationship with him. To reclaim
the close relationship they used to have. But at least she was being given a second
chance to try.

Lydia wasn’t going to turn her back on that.

“
Ja
. I understand.” Lydia rested her chin on her balled fist as if truly letting it sink
in that this was happening. “I was thinking the same. I’m going to have to trust that
God can help me with that.”

During her teen years, God was the last thing she’d wanted to think about. She was
more focused on getting her driver’s
license, working, saving money for a car, and trying to fit in with her
Englisch
friends.

Being back this time, she was reminded of some of the things she had enjoyed about
being Amish and about what she’d liked about God—before her heart was hardened and
she became mad at Him. Mad that God would allow evil men to rape innocent women. Mad
that God would put her birth mom in a position to force her to give up her only daughter.
Mad that she had to be raised by strangers. Yes, they were good people, but life wasn’t
supposed to work that way. Life was supposed to be fair. God was supposed to be good.

Lydia reached over and patted Dat’s hand. “I won’t say anything to them yet. I’ll
work to live the life—the life you and Mem had always dreamed for me. It’s a promise
I’m going to keep.”

Promise
. The word filled her mind, and she knew it was the promise Mem had clung to. Lydia
imagined her smiling in heaven even now, and she supposed some promises were worth
writing down, praying about, keeping.

S
he’d been awake even before the crow of the rooster, excited for the day. The day
of her return.

Yesterday she’d made dinner for Dat and Gideon—and left it simmering on the stove—and
then she’d traveled down to Eureka to get her car serviced. She needed to have it
ready to sell, but more than that, she didn’t want to be around when Gideon came over
to help with the chores. One look at him and she wouldn’t be able to keep the secret.
She had asked Dat not to tell, and he agreed. Lydia had plans to do it herself at
church.

Lydia combed out her hair and pulled it back away from her face and behind her ears,
fastening it on both sides of her head with barrettes. Then she pulled it all back
with a simple hair band. The ponytail was thick and close to her head, and the rest
of her curls trailed down her back like a waterfall. She then folded the ponytail
twice and rolled it up into a bun to pin it up. She used three large pins and a gray
hairnet. She’d found both the pins and the hairnet in her mother’s things. With determination,
Lydia pushed the pins toward the center of the bun, while also grabbing some of the
hairnet and some of the hair to make it stay. She used nine pins total. She could
have done with eight, but she added an extra for good measure. She didn’t want to
make any mistakes today.

When her hair was all pinned up and tucked under the hairnet, she placed a
kapp
over it all. It was the same
kapp
she’d worn in Sugarcreek. She hadn’t been surprised to find it. Mem had kept all
her things. Mem was the one who’d taught her how to put up her hair proper like. And
as she glanced at her final appearance with her outfit and
kapp
she smiled as she also remembered Mem’s words to Dat every Sunday morning.

“
Comb your hair, Jacob. You’re all
stroubly
!
”

Dat would always nod and groan as if he was put out, and then he’d head back to their
indoor bathroom for a brush. Lydia hadn’t understood why he didn’t do it without prodding,
but now she did. Mem’s reaction was part of the fun of it. It had been a special tradition—if
you wanted to call it that—within their family, no matter how silly. It was part of
what made their home
home
.

After a quick breakfast of biscuits and jam, Dat headed out to hitch up the buggy.
The church service was to be at the Peachy place today—too far for Dat to walk with
his bruised leg.

She took another quick glance at her dress, her neat hair, her face without makeup,
and then covered the mirror with a scarf. That was one tradition she’d kept even when
she’d moved to Seattle. Growing up Amish, she’d been unfamiliar with looking at her
reflection any time night or day. Or was it more than that? Perhaps what she didn’t
like was the underlying feeling of guilt every time she saw herself in
Englisch
clothes.

She moved to the front porch but stopped short when she heard two men’s voices. Lydia
hurried down the porch steps and around the side of the house toward the barn. Gideon
was there, helping Dat hitch up the mare. Lydia paused and stared. Her throat knotted.
Her face flushed.

Gideon glanced at her, looked back to the mare, and then, as if not believing what
he’d just seen, turned back and eyed her again. Rex trotted to her side, tail wagging
as if equally surprised.

“Miss Wyse…How…how nice you look today…in Amish dress.” He tried to hide his smile,
but it was pointless.

“
Ja
.” She placed a hand over her heart. “And that’s kind of you. To come all this way…”

“I’m here to help with the chores, remember. I wouldn’t want to slack on my work.”

Lydia paused before him, lifting her face and looking into his eyes. The emotion there
pierced her. “That’s one thing I’d never call you: a slacker.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he took a step back. “I have the buggy ready, if yer
set to go. I didn’t expect you to be going, but it appears that I was wrong.”

“It wasn’t that you were wrong.” She smiled. “I wanted it to be a surprise.” She could
tell from the look in his eyes that he understood.

“It is a wonderful surprise. Welcome home. Can I help you up?”

Lydia hadn’t needed help climbing into a buggy since she was a toddler, but she accepted
his offered hand all the same. He gripped it and guided her up, his eyes lingering
on her face, her
kapp
.

She sat in the middle of the seat, and a moment later the two men sat on either side
of her. Dat seemed to enjoy the nervous energy in the air. He enjoyed turning over
the reins to Gideon. Enjoyed, too, the bits of small talk that mattered little.

Dat grinned like she hadn’t seen in a while, seeming more like the man who’d come
in every night from the fields when she was a child. If hope could be captured in
a gaze, it was in
her dat’s as they parked at the Peachy place, where he insisted on helping Lydia down
from the buggy and walking by her side.

His daughter was there, with him. And even as her dat wore black from her mother’s
passing, on his face he wore a smile.

They arrived at service just moments before it started and the surprise of the members
of the congregation was evident as she patted Dat’s arm before hurrying to the kitchen
side of the room to find a place on the bench beside the other women.

The bishop was the same one who’d spoken at Mem’s funeral, and his messages were good.
The songs were the same as the ones she’d sung as a child, and as she looked around
the folks here weren’t much different from the families she’d grown up with.

The biggest difference was within her. The difference of choosing her path toward
God, instead of doing what she did because that’s what her parents had taught her.
The difference was she listened to the bishop’s message, and when she felt a stirring
within her heart, she understood the message was for her.

Unlike when she was a child, and a young teen attending services, this time she paid
attention to the words she sang—penned from their martyred ancestors—instead of just
moving her mouth out of habit. They rose, and Lydia lifted her voice with the others.
She’d sung the words many times, but this time she translated them from German to
English in her mind.

The hymn continued but she couldn’t move past the words still caught in her throat.
Had she translated that right?
God created me clean. God created me clean
.

They knelt for silent prayer, and Lydia was sure her heart would stop from the emotion
surging through her. Why had she not paid attention to the words of that hymn before?
Why had she been so hard on herself?

She remembered the heartache in Mem’s gaze when she’d told Lydia about her birth.
Mem had ached with her. There had been no accusation. Did God’s heart ache the same?

Lydia covered her mouth with her trembling hand.

Trust the truth, Lydia. Truth will set you free
.

What was the truth?

For so many years what she thought impure—her birth—God had seen as clean and pure.
She lowered her head even farther, letting that realization sink in.

She’d been an innocent child in her mother’s womb. The sin hadn’t been hers.

She’d used her pain to set off without God. To prove she could depend on herself,
provide for herself.

Forgive me…

It was a simple request but one that flowed down into the deepest parts of her, washing
out her murky soul.

After joining the congregation on their knees for a silent prayer, they sang again.
Lydia lifted her voice, her soul soaring high with her words:

The words of the song overwhelmed her. She’d known about the sacrifice of Jesus, but
now the head knowledge moved to her heart.

Put Me first
.

The words filtered into her mind as a gentle message. She opened her eyes and looked
across the room to where Dat sat.

I am your heavenly Father
.

She looked to Gideon who sat a few rows in front of Dat.

I am your first Love
.

Her soul swelled as if all the sunshine from outside the window were trapped inside
her chest. The feeling—as if God were really there with her—both scared and thrilled
her. What would He ask of her? What would He expect? That was the scariest part.

And although no voice shouted from heaven, Lydia had an inner knowing of what she
needed to do. She could care for Dat. She could be a friend to Gideon. But Jesus wanted
her whole heart first.

G
ideon watched Lydia walk from table to table, wiping down the wooden planks of the
table tops, and he was amazed by how comfortable she seemed in her Amish dress and
kapp
. He reminded himself that she’d been raised Amish, but the woman driving into town
just one week ago had seemed far from Plain.

He’d had a hard time getting her off his mind the last few days, and he’d been sorely
disappointed when he showed up at her house last night and she wasn’t there. And that’s
what bothered him. His mem had pestered him for years, asking him what young woman
had caught his eye. One finally had—an
Englisch
woman. Or least she’d been
Englisch
when their gazes first met. Now…did it help or hurt matters that she’d returned to
her Amish heritage? That there were rumors circulating over lunch that Lydia was going
to be baptized into the church? It was worse, he decided. Gideon knew he could convince
himself to stay far away from an
Englisch
woman, but now…

Something inside told Gideon to wait and watch. Lydia had only been here a week. If
she were putting on a show or trying
to gain favor, the truth would be found out. Then again…He glanced over at Amos and
Micah, who also watched Lydia with interest. If he waited, he had no doubt another
bachelor or two would step forward and try to win her heart.

“Gideon, I’ve seen you out in the pasture with Blue a time or two. How’s it going?”
Mr. Peachy’s question interrupted Gideon’s thoughts. The older man had a round face
and ruddy complexion, and his long beard was more gray than brown. He looked like
a younger version of the Santa Claus that Gideon often saw decorating
Englisch
businesses at Christmas.

“
Gut, ja
. I knew Blue was an intelligent horse. He warmed to the halter well.”

“Do you have any secrets?” Mr. Peachy asked. “I’m amazed in the change already—Blue’s
always been a wild horse.”

Gideon shared some of the tricks he used with horse training, especially with horses
as strong-headed as Blue. Mr. Peachy listened intently. Every few minutes Gideon’s
eyes left Mr. Peachy’s face to scan the room in search of Lydia. She talked with Hope
Peachy for a time, and then she chatted with Mrs. Sommer. After a few minutes he watched
as she approached her dat, whispering something into his ear.

“I’ve been thinking of buying myself another horse.” Mr. Peachy ran a hand down his
beard. “I was wondering—”

Lydia walked out the front door without a glance over her shoulder. Her steps seemed
determined. Gideon scowled.

“Let me know if you’d like me to check the horse over,” Gideon interrupted.

Mr. Peachy’s brow furrowed. “Well, not anytime soon—”

“
Ja
, not soon, but if I’m still here…” Gideon patted the man’s shoulder. “But I’m going
to head outside for a time. Talk to a few folks and then see if they, uh, need help
loading the bench wagon.”

“
Ja
, I’ll contact you…” Mr. Peachy’s words trailed behind Gideon as he hurried outside.
He paused on the porch steps. In the distance, Lydia walked down the dirt road toward
the store and school.

“She said she was going to peek in the window of the school,” a soft, warm voice said.

Gideon turned to see Eve Peachy sitting in a rocking chair, holding one of the neighborhood
children. Eve and the toddler boy watched some of the other kids pushing each other
on a tire swing. Children’s laughter filled the air.

“Oh, I was jest…worried about her. I mean after losing her mem.”

“She didn’t seem too sad. Happy like.” Eve stood, placing the toddler on her hip.
“I heard some of the women talking to her in the kitchen. Lydia said she’d been running
for so long, and she’s happy to feel as if she’s come home.”

He nodded and turned his gaze back in Lydia’s direction. She continued down the road,
the summer sunlight highlighting her
kapp
. Her black dress was down to mid-calf and unlike the thick black shoes most Amish
woman wore, she wore brown slip-on shoes with a swirl design on the side. He supposed
one couldn’t give up all things
Englisch
overnight.

With a slight shrug of his shoulders he turned back toward the front door of the house.
The men were beginning to carry the benches and table tops to the bench wagon, where
they’d be taken to the next house for service in two weeks.

“I’m sure if you hurry you can catch up with her.” Disappointment was evident in Eve’s
voice.

“Nah.” Gideon waved a hand. “I was just concerned about her, that’s all. If she’s
doing well, she doesn’t need me.”

“You know you want to.”

He rubbed his jaw. “I want to be a friend.”

“I figured as much. From the way you look at her, you appear very friendly.”

He looked closer at Eve. She blinked quickly, as if struggling to hold back tears.

Caleb had teased him weeks ago that he held Eve’s fancy. Gideon hadn’t believed it
until now. But what could he do? One’s heart wandered where it desired. He shuffled
from side to side. As eager as he was to see Lydia—to talk to her—he was also eager
to get out of view of Eve’s disappointed grimace.

“Well, maybe I should go down. She might want company. I mean, being new to town…”

Without saying another word, he hurried down the road with a quickened stride, and
in less than one minute he caught up with her.

Hearing his footsteps on the gravel, Lydia turned. He grinned, but his smile faded
when she looked into his eyes. Lydia’s gaze reflected disappointment. Was she disappointed
he’d interrupted her walk?

“I saw you heading off. If you need me to drive you anywhere…”

“In the buggy?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, no, I don’t need a ride. Just heading
out for a walk. Enjoying the beauty. Talking to God.” Her words trailed off and heat
rose to her cheeks. “That sounds strange, doesn’t it?”

“Not to me.” He waved a hand down the roadway. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Actually…” Lydia bit her lip and glanced down the road to the school. “I was just
thinking of Mem and my own first day at school. She came to see me—” Lydia’s voice
cracked and she took a deep breath and found her composure. She crossed her arms over
her black apron, the color she’d be wearing for a year as a sign of mourning. “Mem
missed me. She
sat in the back. The teacher didn’t seem to mind, but I did. I wanted to be grown
up. Like the other kids.” She looked up at the sky and closed her eyes, allowing the
rays from the sun to pour over her.

“I’ll let you be, then. Give you time.” He took a step back and expected her to argue.
To say that she wanted him with her after all.

Instead she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Thank you. And thanks for the ride
today too. I appreciate all your care. Getting to know you has meant so much.”

Gideon studied her gaze. The nervous attraction that had reflected from her eyes the
past few days had been replaced with a mix of peace and wonder, making her even more
beautiful.

He waved a good-bye and hurried back toward the Peachy house. When he got there a
few minutes later, he grabbed up one of the last benches and carried it out to the
bench wagon, joining the other men. He supposed he should be happy. Lydia had made
a good choice. She’d chosen to follow the way of faith. He knew it was what really
mattered. Yet part of him also felt sad. Lydia was growing closer to God and to her
dat. Would there be a time when she’d no longer need his friendship?

After he finished helping loading up the benches, he hung around longer than the other
bachelors, waiting for Lydia to return, just in case he needed to drive her and her
dat back. At least that was his excuse. As he was talking to Mrs. Peachy about her
garden, Gideon felt a hand on his arm. He turned expectantly, believing it to be Lydia.
Instead, Mr. Wyse stood there.

“I do appreciate your help this week.” Mr. Wyse extended some folded-up bills.

Gideon pulled his hands back, showing the man he would not take it. “
Ne
, I wanted to help. It was just a small way…a small offering in your time of loss.”

“Thank you.” Mr. Wyse tucked the bills back in his pocket. “I appreciate that. And
I was going to tell you there’s really no need for you to drive me home. No need to
help with chores. My leg’s doing better.”

“Are you sure?” The words spurted from Gideon’s mouth.

“
Ja
. I feel better—both my body and my heart. It’ll be good to roll up my sleeves again.
To feel useful.”

“All right…if you have no need.”

Then, with a final wave, the older man moved toward the hitching post for his horse.
It wouldn’t take him more than ten minutes to hitch the horse to his buggy.

How things had changed.

Just hours ago Gideon had worried about how to keep his heart protected from falling
for Lydia when he was destined to be around her so often. Now he didn’t need to worry
about that. He could spend his days like he had before she arrived—talking with the
other bachelors, planning for the hunting season, shooting practice over by Alkali
Lake, and thinking again about the truth he’d wanted to discover while he was here.

The
lost
feeling surfaced. So familiar. Gideon hadn’t realized it had lessened for a week.
Even though they were just new friends, being with Lydia had helped that.

But now, as he walked down the wooded trail toward the bachelors’ cabins, he felt
disoriented. He was still in the same community, but the disconnection grew with each
step. It was the same as when he was with his family. With all his brothers and sisters
he was always surrounded by people, but he was just a seat warmer, a place filler.
That time alone on the mountain haunted him in ways Gideon didn’t understand.

Should tomorrow be the day he talked to Edgar and discovered the truth? Gideon had
a feeling it was.

Lydia walked up the steps of the small log cabin school and looked into the window.
Peering inside, she saw that three rows of small desks, a teacher’s desk, a woodstove,
and a chalkboard on one wall made up the room. Her mind wanted to run ahead and imagine
what it would be like to teach there, but she stopped herself. As she had felt during
the church service, her returning had to be about what God desired for her. If she
considered anything else, then her return could be as futile as her leaving. And that
was the last thing she wanted.

Lydia turned and gazed out at the metal swings, the slide, and the merry-go-round
that looked old enough for her dat to have played on as a youngster. Then she pulled
a slip of paper out of the pocket of her dress. She’d been looking through the Promise
Box this morning when she spotted it. This letter had more than a date on the front.
It also had a note written under the date:
Lydia’s first day of school
.

She’d felt bad not letting Gideon join her, but since she’d woken this morning, she’d
planned on coming down this way after the church service. Her chest still felt full
of God’s light, and she was eager to connect with Mem.

Lydia’s hands quivered as she read those words. She folded up the paper and slipped
it back in her pocket, realizing that the day Mem prayed for her to claim God’s promises
for her own was today.
This day
.