The Promise Box (14 page)

Eve opened the door just a crack, and the scent of cherry pie wafted out with the
other wonderful smells. He brushed his muddy shoes on the boot brush, nailed to the
wooden planks of the front porch, and waited.

Eve studied him. “I wish I could agree with you.” She sighed. “But I have a feeling
that we’ll be arriving at a church service in coming weeks to discover that Lydia
has decided to become baptized.”

Gideon’s heartbeat quickened. “Have you heard something?”

“
Ne
.” She bit her lip and turned her wide blue eyes toward him. “But if I was in her
shoes that’s what I would do.” Eve tucked a strand of reddish-brown hair behind her
ear. “Some things are worth committing your soul to God for. Things that
really matter more than we thought. People who draw you in without meaning to…”

Is she talking about me? Does she see something I can’t?

He stepped forward again, forcing Eve to open the door and step inside. Her father’s
greeting welcomed him, followed by a wave from Mrs. Peachy.

“I think yer seeing things,” he mumbled under his breath. “Maybe you should try to
pen one of those fiction books Lydia has done worked on.”

Eve chuckled. “I’m not a novelist but an observer of life. I saw the coming chapters
when Marianna Sommer first laid eyes on Ben Stone. It’s almost as if some things were
set in motion by God or something…and folks just can’t help but get all caught up.”
Eve shrugged. “I’m jest wondering when it’s my turn to take a ride on that merry-go-round.”

C
hurch service was being held at Lydia’s house. It was the first time Jacob Wyse had
hosted it, but all agreed it would only be fitting, considering the occasion—even
if they all had to squeeze in. All their furniture had been put in the barn and they’d
packed as many benches into the house as possible. When the congregation stood for
the first hymn, Lydia rose and followed Bishop Alton Plank out the front door. They
walked around the side of the house, and Lydia smiled at seeing the buggies lined
up and the horses nibbling on grass in the Carashes’ pasture, with Blue right in the
middle of them.

“Lydia, when I saw you at yer mem’s funeral with your set chin and
Englisch
clothes, I have to say I never expected this day.”

“I know, Alton. I mean Bishop Plank.” She saw him so often in town in his logging
clothes, not to mention having had his wife over for tea more than once, she forgot
at times that he was the spiritual leader of their community.

“Are you sure of this? Sure of getting baptized into the church?”

“
Ja
, I am.” Lydia nodded. “I didn’t know what I’d lost until
I found it again.” She bit her lip, forcing herself to remember their words. Life
had been an exercise in memory of late, as she worked to preserve her conversations,
thoughts, emotions within the pages of her book.

“I wish yer mem could have seen this day.”

Lydia lowered her head. She wished that too. She had to believe, though, that Mem
had trusted in God’s promises and had known deep in her heart that this day would
come.

“Well, if you’re certain, then I’ll tell you what I’ve told all the others. Joining
the church through baptism has great importance. Over four hundred years ago our ancestors
were tortured and killed because they believed in adult baptism. They didn’t think
being baptized as an infant was enough. They felt one had to make a choice—one’s choice
in Christian belief.”

“Yes, I remember that. I’d learned it—Mem made sure I knew the history of our faith.”

“
Gut
,” Alton continued. “By being baptized into the church you’ll have to live up to the
rules of faith. It’s our duty to keep you accountable, and if not…”

“There will be church discipline, I know.”

“Since you already studied the Dordrecht Confession of Faith growing up, well, I find
no need to do that again.”

She cleared her throat. “That’s kind of you. Mem and Dat taught me right. I just wanted
my own way.”

“But you can make this commitment now?”

“
Ja
.”

“This is a promise for life.” Alton looked deep into her eyes.

She balled her fists at her side. “I know.”

“And if you’re uncertain, it’s time to reconsider and turn back.”

Lydia breathed deeply. “I’m not uncertain…not this time.” Joy bubbled up within.

“
Gut
. Then we better get back in there.”

Lydia followed him back into the church service, head lowered, praying she wasn’t
making a mistake. And even though she knew that she only had to accept the life, sacrifice,
and forgiveness of Jesus for salvation, she wanted to be part of this community. She
believed in it—believed in the people.

They sang familiar hymns and Alton preached the same sermon she’d heard at every baptismal
service growing up: the story about Philip’s encounter with the Ethiopian.

“‘What doth hinder me to be baptized?’” Alton said with emphasis. “To which Philip
answered, ‘If thou believest with all thine heart, thou mayest.’ And the Ethiopian
replied, ‘I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.’”

Lydia had heard the same words dozens and dozens of times, but this was the first
time she understood. She did believe. Because of the promises Mem shared, she understood
God’s Word more than ever before.

After the hymns and sermons had finished up, Lydia knew it was time. At Alton’s direction
she approached the front, kneeling on the rag carpet—the carpet Mem had made, in the
home Mem had cared for. Breaths came hard.

“You are making a promise to God, as witnessed by the church. Do you have anything
to say? What is your desire?”

Lydia cleared her throat. “My desire is to renounce the devil and all the world, accept
Jesus Christ and this church, and for this church to pray for me.”

She knew then it was time for the four questions.

Instead of looking to Alton, she fixed her gaze on the wall behind his shoulder. Tingles
moved up her arms.

“Do you believe and confess that Jesus Christ is God’s Son?”

“
Ja
.”

“Do you believe and trust that you are uniting with a
Christian church of the Lord, and do you promise obedience to God and the church?”

“
Ja
.”

“Do you renounce the devil, the world, and the lustfulness of your flesh and commit
yourself to Christ and His church?”

“
Ja
, I do.”

“Do you promise to live by the standards, the Ordnung, of the church and to help administer
them according to Christ’s Word and teaching, and to abide by the truth you have accepted,
thereby to live and thereby to die with the help of the Lord?”

She paused only slightly. “
Ja
.”

With a gentle motion Edwin removed the prayer covering from her head. His soft fingers
curled under her chin and lifted. Footsteps approached and without glancing over she
knew it was Gideon. Lydia’s dat had asked him to participate, and Gideon had agreed.
The goose bumps rising on her arms confirmed his closeness. She glanced up. Gideon
had dark circles under his eyes.

What’s troubling him?

Lydia swallowed hard. Now wasn’t the time to worry about such things.

A wooden bucket filled with fresh, clear water hung from Gideon’s fist. Gideon lifted
the bucket and poured it into Alton’s cupped hands. She looked forward again and closed
her eyes. The water was warm as it poured down over her head. Once, twice, three times.

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,” Alton said.

Lydia blinked and opened her eyes, water drops falling from her lashes. Gideon stepped
forward again and extended his hand. Lydia placed her fingers in his, and he helped
her rise.

Beside her Alton spoke. “In the name of the Lord and the Church, we extend to you
the hand of fellowship. Rise up, and be a faithful member of the church.”

Alton’s wife, Katie, approached, placing a holy kiss on Lydia’s lips. A thought flashed
through Lydia’s mind and heat rose to her cheeks. She wished it was Gideon she was
kissing. She swallowed. Those thoughts weren’t holy at all. She’d have to depend on
God more than she ever had…and deep down she knew that’s exactly where He wanted her.

She rose and turned, her eyes sweeping the congregation. Tears rimmed many eyes but
flowed freely down her father’s cheeks. He wiped them away with the back of his hand.

She looked around at their place packed with people.

I’ve come home, Mem. I’ve come home
.

Gideon took a big bite of his bread slathered with butter and jam. His hand still
tingled. It had been tingling since he’d held Lydia’s an hour before. He told himself
not to be foolish. She was a sister in Christ and nothing more. The knowing danced
in his heart. She was staying. She’d become Amish and part of the church. Eve was
right. It was more than he’d hoped for. With that knowing the memories of being lost
on the mountain hadn’t plagued him for the last few hours as they had for the previous
weeks.

Yet as he watched her from where she stood in the kitchen with the other women, as
they prepared lunch for after the church service, two thoughts battled for position
within his mind. First, that God had brought her into his life for a reason. Maybe
God had a plan for them—for a future together?

The first thought shined with hope, but the second darkened
his thoughts with fear: if anyone could break his heart, Lydia could, and he couldn’t
handle that.

Was it just six weeks ago that she’d driven into town? She’d come in like a whirlwind.
If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she’d been
Englisch
her whole life. And now, looking at her, he’d have thought she’d never lived a day
away from her Amish community.

He watched her working in the kitchen, chatting with the other women. Lydia took a
spoon and tucked it under the lid of the pickled beets, lifting the rim and breaking
the seal. Setting down the spoon, she quickly unscrewed the lid and set it out for
Eve Peachy to take to one of the tables. She did the same with another jar, and then—as
if feeling his eyes on her—turned and glanced over her shoulder.

Her gaze locked with his and brightened. He saw clear interest…but something else
too. Worry? Shame? Maybe a bit of both. He swallowed hard, then took another bite
of his bread. What was she not telling him?

Of course, she could ask the same question of him. Gideon lowered his head.

They hadn’t talked since he’d chewed her out for giving Blue an apple. He should have
told her then that he was going to the Peachys’ house just to look at a horse Mr.
Peachy was considering. He could tell from Lydia’s gaze she believed it was something
other than that. Something concerning Eve. He should have confessed that Mrs. Peachy
had offered dinner in exchange for his advice.

An
Englisch
man had driven a horse up from Columbia Falls, and Mr. Peachy wanted Gideon’s expert
opinion.

The horse had been a great buy, but even though he’d chatted for a time with Eve and
Hope, there was no attraction there. Why couldn’t he risk telling Lydia how he felt?
Maybe
because it hurt too much. It was better just to be friends than to open up and have
her back off again.

Lydia finished with the jars and set to work washing up dishes. Telling himself that
he’d worry about her later, Gideon turned to welcome Amos, who had just taken a seat
beside him.

I was just seeing things
, Gideon told himself.
That wasn’t attraction, care, in her gaze. It must have been the sun coming through
the window, distorting my view
.

Amos pointed to the jar sitting in front of Gideon. “Can you pass the pickles?”

“Oh,
ja
. Sorry about that.”

Amos stuck a fork inside and pulled out a small pile, placing them on his plate. “Want
some?” He held the jar up for Gideon.

“
Ne
. I’m not too hungry today.” That was the truth.

“
Ja
, I heard that happens.”

“What happens?”

“When you’re in love…it’s hard to eat.”

“Who says I’m in love?”

Amos didn’t answer his question. Instead he took a large bite of his bread, smothered
in peanut butter. He swallowed, then pointed his fork at Lydia. “She cares for you,
you know.”

Gideon shook his head. “Yer just saying that.”

“
Ne
. I wish. I’ve tried to talk to her at the store. Micah, too, but she hardly gives
us the time of day. We’ve both seen the way she looks at you…like she’s wishing you
would ask her for a date.”

“How can I do that? I don’t have a buggy. There’s no place to go. If I took her to
dinner at the restaurant, everyone would see. It would be like taking the whole town
on a date.”

“
Ja
.” Amos laughed. “That’s the truth, it is.” He scratched his head, causing his blond
hair to stick up. “
Vell
, then, how about a walk.”

“A walk?”

“
Ja
, a romantic walk.”

Gideon ran a hand down the side of his face. He was already sweating at the thought.
He’d asked to walk with her before. It still stung that she’d turned him down. He
glanced over at Amos, narrowing his gaze. “What if she says no?”

Amos raised an eyebrow and leaned a bit closer. “Ah, friend, but what if she says
yes?”

Gideon approached the Shelter house, and his brow furrowed. Numerous buggies were
parked outside. What was this about? Surely not what he’d first thought.

Just as he was leaving the Wyse house after service today, Mr. Sommer had asked him
if he could stop by the Shelter place tonight. He’d assumed that Will Shelter had
also wanted to talk about a horse, but as he looked around he no longer thought that
was the case. Through the front window Gideon saw that many Amish couples from the
community had gathered. It looked like some type of meeting…but what about?

Children raced around the yard. The boys played tag, and the girls chased after them
laughing. Gideon rubbed his forehead. When had things changed? When did things turn
around and it become up to the men to pursue the women? It would be so much easier
just to know who was truly interested in him—and who wasn’t. Namely, if he knew about
one person. Did Lydia care, or would she just push him away if he tried to get close
to her again?

He walked up the front porch steps, and the front door opened before he had a chance
to knock. Will Shelter opened the door. He was a tall man, as large as a bear, or
so it seemed.

“Well, here he is,” Will announced as Gideon stepped inside. “Here’s someone else
who could add to our conversation.”

Gideon pulled off his hat and glanced around. Abe Sommer patted the empty chair beside
him. Gideon placed his hat on one of the hooks on the wall by the door and hurried
over to sit. “I’d love to give input…if I knew what this was about.”

Laughter filled the room.

“
Ja
, that might help,” Sallie Peachy called out.

Will Shelter cleared his throat. “The matter has to do with Lydia Wyse.”

Heat rushed to Gideon’s face, and he readjusted himself in his seat. From beside her
husband, Deborah Shelter’s face glowed. How did she know his feelings for Lydia? How
did anyone know? He thought about his conversation with Amos at lunch. Had his friend
mentioned something? He looked around, seeing some of the other deacons of the church.
Did they call him here to warn him to give time and space to his feelings for Lydia?
After all, she’d just been baptized today.