Reckless Heart (Kauffman Amish Bakery 5.5) (16 page)

BOOK: Reckless Heart (Kauffman Amish Bakery 5.5)
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“What?” Lydia gasped. “What do you mean?”

“He was gathering up his friends to go off on their own, and his father showed up,” Amanda said while forking some chicken salad into her mouth. “There was alcohol in his buggy. The bishop is going to discuss punishment with the church leaders this week.”

Lydia frowned. “Oh.”

“It’s not going to just involve Mahlon. I think the bishop’s grandson told him there have been more youths drinking with him.” Nancy popped more chips into her mouth and then rubbed her hands together. “My
dat
told me the bishop also wants a list of whoever has been drinking with Mahlon.”

Lydia’s suddenly lost her appetite. “Is that so?”


Ya
, that’s what my
dat
said. One of the deacons told him when they met at the farm supply store yesterday.” Nancy shook her head. “He said if he hears I was involved at all that he’ll take me out to the barn and whip me. Does he really think I would do something like that?”

Amanda guffawed. “You would never do anything like that. Why would he even think that?”

Worry mixed with guilt surged through Lydia while she pushed a blob of potato salad around on her plate. What if Mahlon had given up her name? Not only would she be punished severely, but her reputation would be damaged. Her family would be shamed for years to come.

Lydia swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “Have you heard any of the names Mahlon gave?”

Amanda waved off the question while chewing a bite of her turkey sandwich. “You know. Just the same group as always.” She rattled off the names of Mahlon’s followers.

Nancy chimed in, adding a few more, and Amanda concurred with a nod.

“Anyone else?” Lydia asked.

Amanda and Nancy shook their heads in unison.

“Why?” Amanda asked, her eyes full of curiosity. “Is there someone who was left off the list?”

Lydia paused and then shrugged. “I was just wondering who might be absent from the next youth gathering.”

“Will you be there?” Nancy asked, her face hopeful. “I think my
mamm
is going to let me host it.”

“That would be
wunderbaar
!” Amanda said. “I love your huge pasture. We have so much fun there.”

Her cousins prattled on about youth gatherings, and Lydia’s shoulders tensed. She didn’t know what upset her more—that Mahlon was giving up names of his entourage or that her cousins talked as if Lydia wouldn’t attend the next gathering.

“Lydia?” Amanda asked. “Are you okay?”


Ya
,” Lydia said, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.” But she was far from being fine. Suddenly the joy she’d felt earlier evaporated into the spring air.

Later that evening, Lydia placed a washed dish on the towel beside her and glanced at her mother, who was leaning against the wall while yawning.

“Go to bed,” Lydia said. “I’ll finish cleaning up.”

“Are you certain?”
Mamm
asked between more yawning.

“You look as if you’ve pulled a buggy full of people from town back to our house,” Lydia said. “Please go to bed. I promise I’ll finish up the kitchen and then make certain all of the lamps are snuffed out.”

With a smile,
Mamm
stepped over to Lydia and pulled her into a hug. “It’s so
gut
to be
heemet
.” She kissed her cheek.

“Now, go to bed before I get
Dat
in here to send you himself,” Lydia said, holding her tight before letting go.

Mamm
laughed and then headed for the door. “
Gut nacht
.”

Lydia hummed to herself while she finished up the dishes and then wiped down the table. She was pushing the broom across the floor when the door opened and slammed shut.
She glanced over as her father shucked his work coat and tossed it onto the peg by the door.

“It’s cooling off out there,” he said, rubbing his arms as he crossed the kitchen. “It’s not summer yet.”

Lydia grabbed the dustpan from the corner. “Yes, but warmer weather will be here soon,” she said.

He fetched a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. “The gathering was nice tonight,
ya
?”


Ya
,” she said. “The food was
appeditlich
.”

He finished the water and then leaned against the counter. “It’s a relief to have them home. But we’re not out of the woods yet with Ruthie.”

Lydia swept up the dirt and then held up the dustpan while studying her father. “What do you mean?”

He set the glass on the counter and crossed his arms over his wide chest. “She still has to go to monthly appointments and may need more treatments. This was only the first round. The doctors will follow her for a few years to be certain she’s cancer free.”

“Oh.” She dumped the dirt into the trash can.

“I wanted to ask you about something,” he said. “Let’s talk for a minute.”

Dread filled Lydia as she met his serious gaze.

“I was talking with your
onkel
Robert,”
Dat
began. “And he mentioned that there has been some inappropriate behavior at the youth gatherings.” He tilted his head in question. “Did you know anything about this?”

Lydia took a deep breath as alarm shot through her, causing the hair on her arms to stand up. Hoping her expression didn’t give away her anxiety, she nodded.

“What did you know about it?” he asked.

“Mahlon and some friends were known to go off on their own,” she said.

“What were they doing?”

“As far as I know, they were drinking,” she said.

Dat
rubbed his beard while studying her. “Were you involved in this in any way?”

“No,” she said, her voice sounding small and foreign to her.

He stood up straight. “
Gut
. If you had been, you would suffer severe consequences.” His expression softened. “I knew in my heart I could trust you, but Robert said he asked Nancy about it. I thought I should ask you as well. You need to tell the adults when inappropriate behavior is going on. We want to avert tragedy and keep our
kinner
safe. Bad things happen when
kinner
operate machinery or try to drive when drunk.”

“Of course,” Lydia said, her voice still meek. “I understand,
Dat
.”

“You should head to bed. It’s getting late.” He started toward the door. “
Gut nacht
.”

Lydia breathed a deep sigh of relief as she put the broom back in the corner. Moving to the sink, she stared out the window at the dark pasture as guilt weighed her down like a one-ton anvil on her shoulders.

Closing her eyes, she sent up a silent prayer to God:

Lord, forgive me for my sins. I know that lying is a sin, but the consequences of the truth terrified me more than the consequences of lying. I promise from this day forward to be truthful, but I’m afraid of the repercussions if my parents find out what I did. Please forgive me, Lord. I’ll do better. I promise
.

Snuffing the light, she headed toward the stairs and up to bed.

16
 

O
n Friday, Lydia rushed past Tristan’s house, hoping to get to the other side of his family’s driveway before he spotted her.

“Lydia,” a voice said.

Startled, she flinched and turned, finding him leaning against the back end of his car. “Tristan,” she said. “I didn’t see you there.”

“How could you see me?” he asked sarcastically. “You were studying the sidewalk and walking as if you were trying to outrun a fire.”

She hoisted her heavy tote bag farther up on her shoulder while considering how accurate his words were. She didn’t want to fuel any more possible rumors about her and Tristan, however. She already had to defend their friendship to her aunts, Barbie, and Joshua. Although she missed Tristan, it seemed to be in her best interest to not talk to him.

He stepped toward her and lifted his arms in question. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you.”
There I go, lying and sinning again
. She frowned. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy?” He gave a bark of laughter. “Let me guess. You’ve been washing your hair?”

“Excuse me?” She shook her head with confusion. “What does that mean?”

The corner of Tristan’s mouth tilted upward. “Sorry. It’s an expression that non-Amish girls use often as an excuse. Mostly, they tell boys that when they don’t want to see them or talk to them.”

“Oh.” Lydia hugged her arms to her chest. “I’ve been busy with my family. My mother and sister came home on Tuesday.”

Tristan’s eyes lit up and her heart swelled with renewed friendship. She’d wanted to tell him the news since she found out they were going to come home. Why couldn’t she enjoy their innocent friendship without being criticized?

“That’s wonderful, Lydia.” He reached for her and then pulled his arm back. “I’m really happy to hear it. What a blessing for you.”


Ya
,” she said. “We’re so happy to have our family back together.”

“God is so good,” he said.

“He certainly is,” she agreed. “That’s very true.”

Tristan’s expression darkened slightly. “Why didn’t you tell me they were coming home?”

She shrugged. “I just told you. I’ve been busy and I hadn’t seen you, and I —”

“I don’t believe you.” His expression challenged her.

“What do you mean?” Lydia asked. “You don’t believe what?”

“That you’ve been too busy.” He gestured toward the garage. “I’ve been out here working on my car nearly every day for over a week. You’ve been deliberately rushing past
my house so you didn’t have to talk to me. I planned to stay out here today and wait for you so I could stop you. That’s why I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes watching for you.”

She studied his sad face, and she knew she had to stop lying to him. Perhaps if she told him the truth, he would understand. “You’re right.”

He raised his eyebrows with surprise. “I am?”


Ya
,” she said. “I’ve been avoiding you because I have to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our friendship is frowned upon in my community. I had to avoid you to stop rumors from spreading and ruining my reputation and my chances of being the full-time teacher next year.”

Tristan’s expression transformed from shock to disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He gestured between them. “Our friendship would ruin your reputation? Why? Because we were alone for ten minutes in your schoolhouse?”

“Yes,” she said, dropping her bag to the ground to stop the pain of the weight from shooting through her shoulder. “That’s part of it.” She glanced over her shoulder to see if Deborah, Tristan’s Amish neighbor, was standing on her porch. Thankfully, there wasn’t any sign of her. “Friendship between an Amish girl and a non-Amish boy is forbidden because it is considered inappropriate.”

“How can a friendship between neighbors be inappropriate?”

“Those are the rules.” She reached for her bag. “I really have to get home. Please tell your family—”

“No,” he said, glowering. “I can’t accept that. How can the Amish call themselves Christians if they don’t allow friendships outside of their tight-knit group? That seems elitist to
me. I thought the Amish were supposed to be humble and God-fearing.”

“We aren’t elitist. We’re humble, and we’re all trying to do the right thing in God’s eyes.” Lydia wished he didn’t look so hurt, because it was breaking her heart. “We don’t profess to be perfect Christians or perfect in any way. We’re all trying to live by God’s words and follow his commands, and we know our actions have repercussions. If I don’t follow the rules of my community, my family will be frowned upon.”

“The rules of your community?” Tristan looked confused. “You mean like wearing the right clothes and being obedient?”

“It’s more than that. It’s a way of life that is engrained in us from birth. This is our culture. It’s the way we choose to live.” She shook her head, knowing the conversation was hopeless and was not going to get any better. “You don’t understand.” She hefted the bag onto her shoulder, and the pain began anew in her shoulder. She needed to clean out her bag before she wound up with serious shoulder and back problems.

“No, apparently I don’t understand.” He folded his arms across his chest in defiance. “You’re a teacher’s assistant. Educate me.”

Lydia frowned. “I don’t like your tone. I’m not attacking you, so why are you attacking me?”

He gestured widely. “Jesus told us to love one another. He accepted all people, even thieves and paupers. Why can’t I be friends with you?”

She paused and hoped she’d choose the right words. “Amish girls are supposed to be chaste and pure, and we’re not supposed to mingle with any boys alone. I was wrong to give you a tour of the schoolhouse. If the school board finds out I did that, I might lose my job.”

“I think that’s a little extreme,” he said, “but all right. So what’s wrong with standing here in my driveway and talking? We’re not alone in a closed room, and we’re only talking.”

“The perception could be …” She paused, struggling for words.

“Lydia, that’s just plain dumb. You can’t do something because of what people might think.” He shook his head.

She threw up her hands. “This is hopeless. You’re not listening to me. There’s a reason my community has these rules, and I have to follow them. That’s just how it is.”

“No, you’re not listening to me. I never had any bad intentions toward you. I told you I have a girlfriend, and I’m loyal to her. Besides, doing something inappropriate with you never even entered my mind.” Tristan’s frown deepened. “I thought you were my friend. In fact, I considered you a good friend, and Michaela did too. She’s been asking about you nearly every day.”

Lydia sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” he said with an emphatic nod. “Me too.”

They stared at each other, and the tension in the air around them intensified.

Lydia needed to get home before she was seen with him. If the word got back to her parents, she would definitely be in trouble. She started to back away. “I have to go.”

“Sure,” Tristan said. “Whatever.” With a wave of his hand, he turned around and started up the driveway.

As she hurried toward her house, she held back threatening tears. It didn’t seem fair that Lydia had to walk away from a good friend like Tristan. Why couldn’t her community accept that she and Tristan shared a perfectly pure and innocent friendship? As she moved toward her driveway, she couldn’t stop the heartache that gripped her.

“I’m glad you can walk with us,” Irma said, skipping alongside Lydia on Monday afternoon. “It’s fun when you walk us home from school.”

Lydia smiled. “I’m glad I can too. Barbie said I should go and she’d clean up today. She said she knew we’d want to get home so we could help
Mamm
with Ruthie and make supper.”

Titus pointed toward the end of the road. “I see Michaela in the driveway. I wonder if she lost her dog. She looks like she’s looking for something.”

Lydia’s stomach tightened. Her disagreement with Tristan had echoed through her mind all weekend, and she dreaded facing him.

“Michaela!” Irma shouted.

Before Lydia could grab her arm, Irma took off running toward the little girl, who grinned and waved as Irma approached. When Lydia reached them, the girls were hugging.

“Today’s my birthday!” Michaela said. “I was hoping to see you when you walked home.”

“Happy birthday!” Irma said, and Lydia and Titus echoed the wishes.

“Would you come in and have a cupcake with me and my mom and my brother?” Michaela asked. “My mom made them, and they’re my favorite — vanilla cake with chocolate icing and rainbow sprinkles.”

Lydia turned to Irma. “We really need to get home.
Mamm
was up most of the night with Ruthie, and I’m sure she’s tired.”

“Please,” Irma said, giving them her best puppy dog eyes, as their father called it.


Mamm
won’t be
froh
if we’re late,” Lydia repeated. She turned to Michaela. “I’m very sorry, but we must get home. Our baby sister is very ill and—”

Michaela’s big, blue eyes filled with hope. “Please, Lydia. I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Please, Lydia?” Irma chimed in. “Just one cupcake? I promise I’ll eat fast, but I won’t get a bellyache.”

Lydia blew out a sigh and looked at Titus, who offered a noncommittal shrug. The girls continued to beg until Lydia finally gave a quick nod.

“One cupcake,” Lydia said. “Then we must hurry home.”

The girls cheered and skipped up the front walk while holding hands.

Lydia and Titus walked side by side up to the house and followed them into the kitchen. Mrs. Anderson stood at the counter shaking a container of rainbow sprinkles over the cupcakes, causing the flakes to fall onto the pastries like colorful snow.

“Why, hello!” she called. “I’m so glad you could join us. Michaela had a party at her preschool class today, but she wanted to have a party at home too and hoped you could come.” She picked up the tray full of cupcakes and motioned toward the table. “Please sit down.”

“Thank you,” Irma said, sitting next to Michaela.

“How is your sister doing, Lydia?” Mrs. Anderson asked.

“She’s doing better,” Lydia said, moving to the table. “She and my mother just got back from Hershey last Tuesday. Ruthie’s chemotherapy went pretty well. We’re happy to have them back home.”

“I bet you are.” Mrs. Anderson smiled. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve been praying for your family.”

“Thank you. We have to be home soon, but I told the
girls we could have a quick cupcake.” Lydia wondered where Tristan was and hoped he was not at home. Sinking into a chair by the window, she looked out and saw him in the garage. The hood of his car was up, and he stood looking down at the engine.

Then Lydia noticed Titus was looking at her awkwardly from the other side of the kitchen. Patting the bench, she motioned for him to sit with her. With a reluctant expression, he joined her.

“Here we go,” Mrs. Anderson said, placing the cupcakes in the center of the table. “Let’s sing.”

“Wait!” Michaela hollered, holding her hands out in a dramatic attempt to garner attention. “What about Tristan?”

Lydia’s shoulders tensed.
Please don’t invite him in to join us
.

“Oh,” Mrs. Anderson said. “I thought we were going to sing with Tristan and Daddy tonight.”

Michaela frowned. “We can’t leave him out. It’ll hurt his feelings.”

“All right.” Mrs. Anderson pushed open the back door and the screen door leading to a porch that sat in front of the detached garage. “Tristan,” she called over the blare of rock music emanating from the garage. “Please come in and help us sing to your sister.”

Tristan said something in return and then wiped his hands on a red shop rag before heading toward the house. Lydia felt almost sick. Seeing him again would be uncomfortable.

“He’s coming,” Mrs. Anderson said as she crossed back to the head of the table.

The screen door opened with a loud squeak and then slammed shut. Tristan stepped into the room, stopping when he saw Lydia and her siblings. “I didn’t realize we had company.”

Lydia held her breath as awkwardness between her and Tristan filled the room like a thick fog.
This was a very bad idea
. She shouldn’t be inside Tristan’s house. She would run the risk of being spotted by Barbie’s aunt when she left, and the consequences of arriving home late would be much worse than the rumor mill.

“Hi, Tristan,” Titus said.

“Hi, there, Titus,” Tristan said while moving to the sink. “How are you all doing?” He washed his hands with soap and water.

Lydia couldn’t bring herself to force a smile. She absently ran her fingers over the wooden tabletop as she waited for the birthday song to begin. She had to keep her hands busy to prevent herself from bolting toward the front door.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Irma said with a grin.

Michaela wrapped her arm around Irma. “I invited them to come in for a cupcake since we haven’t seen them in a while. I waited in the driveway until they walked by.”

While drying his hands with a paper towel, Tristan met Lydia’s gaze, and her cheeks heated. “That’s a good way to see them,” he quipped before sitting across from Lydia. “That way they can’t sneak by, right?”

Lydia turned her gaze to the cupcakes and hoped Titus and Irma would eat quickly.
What am I doing here? We should’ve gone straight home
. But she knew why she’d come into his house — she couldn’t disappoint Irma. She knew Irma had also suffered while their mother was gone. How could she not let her sister enjoy a quick cupcake with their friend?

Mrs. Anderson put a large candle in the shape of a five on top of a cupcake and pushed it in front of Michaela. She lit the candle with a match and raised her hands in the air as
if she were conducting an orchestra. “Let’s sing!” she called before starting a loud and off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday to You.”

Once the song was over, the children each snatched a cupcake from the tray, and Mrs. Anderson handed out paper plates featuring animated female characters dressed like princesses, along with matching napkins.

BOOK: Reckless Heart (Kauffman Amish Bakery 5.5)
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