A Heart Once Broken (23 page)

“I'm afraid so.” Rosemary made a face. “I wouldn't have said anything, but Amy asked me about it at the singing tonight, and if she knows, it'll eventually get around to your ears.”

“Okay, I'm waiting.”

“Johnny Mast from the old community wrote me to ask if we could begin a writing relationship, and I told him I didn't want to begin something. That's really all there is to it. I said no, but Amy didn't know that, so word is getting out.”

Ezra squeezed her hand. “Sounds like you're in great demand. See, don't underrate yourself.”

Rosemary opened the door. Once they were inside, she motioned for him to sit on the couch, but he followed her into the kitchen instead.

“Now you're going to make me nervous again,” Rosemary protested as another sharp pain shot through her abdomen.

Ezra must have noticed Rosemary's expression because concern flashed across his face. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing that these can't fix.” Rosemary forced a smile.

She opened the cupboard to bring out the plate of cherry cheese cups.

Ezra's face glowed. “That's food fit for a king, if you ask me.”

“Then I made the right choice.” Rosemary took a deep breath
as the pain eased in her side. She shooed Ezra back into the living room, where she set down the desserts and returned to the kitchen for plates and forks.

Ezra had his gaze fixed on the cherry cheese cups when she came back. “I think you've sealed this deal on your first evening,” he said.

Rosemary laughed and handed him a plate and a fork. “You're a
goot
teaser, Ezra, but eat now.”

“You try them first,” Ezra insisted.

“I'll do nothing of the sort,” Rosemary shot back.

“What if I die of poisoning?”

“Then I'll bury you by the moonlight in our garden.”

Ezra threw his head back in laughter. “You are an original, Rosemary, and
yah
, we'll do this again.”

Ezra bit into one of the cups.

“Excellent!” he proclaimed. “Absolutely excellent!”

Rosemary took one herself, and swallowed a bite. She wouldn't be able to eat more than one. Not the way her stomach felt.

Rosemary gave Ezra a warm smile as he took another cherry cheese cup and gulped it down in two bites.

Chapter Twenty-Two

T
wo weeks later after the Sunday morning church service, Lydia waited toward the back of the kitchen until the girls serving the unmarried men's table had been assigned. At least Rosemary hadn't volunteered today. The girl had shown great discretion and wisdom in the past few weeks, so Lydia shouldn't be surprised. Rosemary had always been a decent girl, and ever since Ezra had taken Rosemary home from the hymn singing, the girl had blossomed like a rose.

Lydia forced herself to smile and stepped closer in the crowded kitchen to lay her hand on Rosemary's arm. “You look a little woozy. Did Ezra just walk past?” she teased.

A hint of a smile crossed Rosemary's face, while she fanned herself with both hands. “No, I'm just a little weak, that's all. Food—even the sight of it—seems to do that to me lately.”

“Well, congratulations on your success with Ezra.” Lydia pressed Rosemary's arm and turned to go.

Rosemary reached out to clutch Lydia's hand, and whispered in her ear, “Thanks for not being angry with me about Ezra. And I know Sandra isn't either. She just spoke with me today. The two of you couldn't be nicer about it.”

“Hey, you caught him fair and square.” Lydia forced another smile. “How can we complain?”

“Well, thanks anyway,” Rosemary whispered as Lydia moved away.

Lydia stepped to the counter where Sandra was filling the peanut butter bowls. “Let me help you,” Lydia suggested.

She took several bowls off the counter to set them on a tray before Sandra could answer. She hurried to the married women's table. Several of the women at the table smiled and nodded their thanks as she served them.

Once the tray was empty and Lydia had stepped back, Sandra said, “I figured you'd be down with the unmarried men, scrounging up prospects.”

Lydia frowned and said, “What about yourself at the service today? Clyde would welcome your attentions, I'm sure.”

A troubled look crossed Sandra's face. “Lydia, can I go home with you this afternoon and talk? I need someone to pour out my troubles to.”

“Of course!” Lydia didn't hesitate. “The truth is, I need someone to talk to too!”

“What's wrong?” Sandra whispered.

“
Mamm
and
Daett
and Rudy.”

Sandra squeezed Lydia's arm. “Then we must speak at the first opportunity.”

Lydia left again with her arms loaded with bread and red beet bowls. When those had been delivered, they returned to the women's table with coffeepots, which were quickly emptied.

“It's cold weather today,” Lena offered with an apologetic smile.

“We'll be right back with more,” Lydia responded, and headed back to the kitchen for refills. She was soon at the table again pouring coffee until Bishop Henry called for another prayer of thanksgiving.
After the “amen” Lydia filled a final few cups while the older women lingered to visit. The younger girls arrived with their bowls of dishwater to clean the utensils for the next serving.

Lena chuckled as she and the others stood up without further objection. “Looks like we're getting chased right off the table.” Lydia returned the coffeepots to the kitchen and brought Sandra with her on crutches to sit at a clean table. They had just seated themselves when Bishop Henry called for the prayer of thanks again.

Lydia bowed her head to whisper her own silent prayer. “Help us, dear Lord, through these dark times. And don't let our hearts stray from the truth.”

She wanted to spill her heart right now, but the subject was too explosive to talk about here. She would have to wait until they were someplace more private—such as at home. But even at the house, privacy wasn't a sure thing. Emma and Rhoda would have their
Englisha
friends over this afternoon, and if the hints they had dropped all week were correct, Rudy would be with them. He hadn't made an appearance again since Thanksgiving Day, apparently to give her time to think. But the truth was, she had done everything
but
think. Mostly she worried. Thinking about Rudy got her nowhere. How she had gotten into this situation was beyond her. She should have shoved Rudy out of her mind, but while
Mamm
and
Daett
focused on Emma and Rhoda, they were missing the precipice she teetered on. But surely she wouldn't go over the edge. Not now! Not after the choice she had made to join the community.

“Don't look so somber,” Sandra whispered. “The deacon's
frau
is coming our way.”

Lydia gathered her scattered thoughts and pasted on a smile.

“So, how are the Troyer cousins this afternoon?” Ruth Ann asked.

“Perfect!” Sandra chirped.

“My condolences on Ezra,” Ruth Ann said, patting Sandra's hand. “I must say, I was most surprised that both of you lost that race.”

“Well, you never know,” Sandra said in the same tone of voice.

Ruth Ann moved closer to whisper, “You seem to be taking it well, but maybe it's because you both lost together. That must make it easier.”

“I suppose it does,” Sandra allowed.

“Well, I'm sure neither of you will have much trouble securing decent Amish husbands,” Ruth Ann said. “Just don't try for the same one next time!”

“Thanks for the advice,” Lydia finally said as Ruth Ann walked off.

“Why did you have to say that?” Sandra asked.

“Because it's true,” Lydia told her. “And we should take all the advice we can get.”

“I'm sure she'd say I'm supposed to accept Clyde's attentions,” Sandra mumbled, then fell silent until they finished the meal and Bishop Henry called for a prayer of thanks again.

“Go tell Mark where you're going,” Lydia said as she got up from the table.

Sandra hobbled off, and Lydia found
Mamm
outside the kitchen doorway. “I'm taking Sandra home with me for the afternoon. Can you take Emma and Rhoda?”

“Sure,”
Mamm
said at once. “I'm glad you two are getting together.”

Lydia smiled her thanks and moved to the washroom. She had found her shawl by the time Sandra appeared, then Sandra dug in the pile to find her own. Together they walked across the lawn, where Sandra stayed by the buggy while Lydia went to bring her horse, Timber, from the barn. When she returned, Clyde was engaged in conversation with Sandra. Lydia hung back for a moment. But there was no sense in that, Lydia told herself. If Clyde wanted a private
conversation with Sandra, he could have come out sooner or asked for a moment alone.

“Howdy,” Clyde called when Lydia approached.

“Hi, yourself,” Lydia responded, pausing with her hand on Timber's bridle.

“Well, I should be going,” Clyde announced. “See you later, Sandra.”

Lydia watched him leave before she turned to Sandra. “Is this what you wanted to speak of? His pestering?”

“
Yah
,” Sandra responded. She helped hitch Timber to the buggy the best she could, with only a brief glance toward Clyde's retreating back. Lydia helped Sandra climb into the buggy, then she tossed Sandra the lines. Lydia pulled herself up to settle on the buggy seat.

“Get up,” Lydia hollered out.

As they passed, Lydia saw
Daett
and Deacon Schrock leaning against
Daett
's buggy, deep in conversation. Lydia motioned with her head toward the two. “That's my problem, or part of it.”

“So it was true what you told me on Thanksgiving Day? I guess I was hoping things had changed by now.”

Lydia turned onto Madrid Road before she answered. “I'm living in a daze, to tell you the truth. I can't believe half the time what's happening.”

“Me too!” Sandra muttered. “Who would have thought Rosemary Beiler would win Ezra's affections?”

“So what about Clyde?” Lydia asked.

“Sometimes I think I'm starting to give in,” Sandra sighed. “At least, that's how it seems. I ask myself why, but I honestly don't know. Is it because I'm scared of walking alone through life as an old maid? Is that it?”

“You're
not
going to end up an old maid!” Lydia said. “Somehow we'll both find husbands. Good husbands too!”

Sandra snorted. “After our disaster with Ezra we'd better think of a new strategy.”

Lydia didn't answer as she turned Timber into the driveway. As Timber plodded toward the barn and came to an abrupt stop, Sandra noticed a car parked near the house. “You have visitors,” she said.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Emma and Rhoda's friends, and probably Rudy. They must be waiting for Emma and Rhoda to come home with
Daett
and
Mamm
.”

“You still care for Rudy, don't you?” Sandra asked as she climbed down to help unhitch Timber from one side of the buggy.

Lydia undid the tug on her side. “I wish I knew. But come with me for a short walk on your crutches if Rudy's here. That way I can avoid him.”

“Just say you already have company.
Me.
”

“We'll see,” Lydia said as she led Timber to the barn. Sandra hobbled toward the house, and by the time Lydia approached the porch, Sandra was chatting cheerfully with the group of
Englisha
young people who must have come outside to greet them. Rudy now stood with his back toward her.

Lydia took a deep breath. Both Avery and Julie had turned toward her, and Rudy followed their gaze, a broad smile spreading across his face. Lydia forced her feet forward. She had to face this problem.