“Why are you telling me this?” Jude demanded.
Jeremiah exhaled forcefully. He’d never understood what Jude saw in Leah. He could only assume that his widowed brother was so desperate for affection and companionship that he was willing to settle for a woman who’d never progressed beyond being the tomboy daughter of Raymond and Lenore Otto, a girl who hadn’t been taught much about a wife’s responsibilities.
“Have you ever eaten a meal Leah cooked?” he challenged. “Vernon Gingerich has told me that anytime he’s visited the Otto home, Lenore’s been bustling around in the kitchen and Leah’s been in the front room chatting with him and her dat. And at our family dinners these past months, Leah’s cleaned up the dishes, but I’ve not seen any signs that she knows how to operate a stove.”
“Lenore does the cooking when Vernon visits because he’s her bishop, and she enjoys cooking for a man now that Raymond’s gone,” Jude explained impatiently. He raked his hand through his disheveled dark waves, glancing downward with an anguished sigh. “Come on, man. You know how it is to lose a wife—and you don’t even have kids to look after. Doesn’t the loneliness—the need for adult conversation—eat you alive at times?”
Jeremiah looked away, his heart pierced by the blatant reminder of Priscilla’s absence. After three years of living without her, he did indeed know how the silence of nights alone clawed at a man’s heart like a relentless beast. But he needed to pursue his present purpose before Jude made the biggest mistake of his life. “All right, so think about how Mamm will react to having Leah around,” he said, crossing his arms. “She’s told me she’s not in favor of this marriage, and you know she’ll shred Leah like pulled pork when she doesn’t assume such wifely duties as sewing clothes for your kids, or cooking, or cleaning, or—”
“I’ve already told Mamm that she can retain her place as the head of housekeeping—so things will be done the way she wants them,” Jude shot back. “It’s not as though Leah won’t contribute to putting food on the table by raising it, and by—”
“Do you think Mamm’s going to stand for that?” Jeremiah challenged in disbelief. “And do you think it’s fair to Leah to put her mother-in-law in charge of her new home? Really?”
Jude’s sigh lingered in the darkening kitchen, but Jeremiah didn’t light any lamps. He wanted nothing to distract his brother from giving more logical, realistic answers to such basic questions.
“All right, so Mamm’s muttered a few choice words about Leah’s tendency toward jobs that men usually do,” Jude finally said. “I’ve known Leah for years—which is more than I could say when I married Frieda—and she’s a patient, kind, optimistic sort of woman. Don’t you often preach about that passage from Corinthians that says love is patient and kind? Which is, sorry to say, not a fitting description of our mother.”
“But Mamm stepped in to help you and your kids after Frieda passed,” Jeremiah pointed out. “Think what your life would’ve been like these past five months without her presence. She’s expressed her concern that you’ve rushed your courtship of Leah—”
Jude chuckled humorlessly. “Mamm told me flat-out that no matter how many years I courted Leah, I couldn’t turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse,” he muttered. “I know Leah’s more at home in a barn than in a kitchen, but I’m crazy for her, Jeremiah. She gets along with Alice and Adeline, and she understands that Stevie’s shy—”
“Your twins concern me even more than Mamm, when it comes to welcoming Leah into your home,” Jeremiah said firmly. “If the rumors are true about them chasing after English boys, you and Leah will need to be very vigilant about what Adeline and Alice are up to in the name of rumspringa.”
Jude’s lips flickered. “The girls need a woman younger than Mamm to keep track of them—yet another reason Leah’s presence will be a blessing,” he insisted doggedly. “They miss their mother. They’ll be a handful no matter whom I marry.”
Jude stood up, appearing older than his age. “I know you have your objections, Jeremiah, but I’m counting on your support, because you’re one of the most positive, forward-thinking men I know,” he said softly, holding Jeremiah’s gaze. “And frankly, love and optimism and—and laughter—have been missing from my life for more years than I care to count. Please try to understand that I’m going after some happiness with Leah. Is it a sin to love someone because she makes me happy?”
Jeremiah swallowed hard. His tough talk hadn’t changed Jude’s opinion of Leah one iota. “As your bishop, I can say I’ve performed weddings for couples who had less love and laughter in their souls than you and Leah do,” he admitted softly. “But as your brother, I wish you’d at least postpone the ceremony—give yourselves more time to decide how you’ll handle the issues I’ve mentioned.”
Jude gripped the back of the wooden chair he’d just vacated, gazing intently at Jeremiah in the dimness. “What you and Mamm are really saying is that Leah must change—a lot—before you believe she’ll make a gut wife and stepmother,” he said in a voice edged with resentment. “I’ll say it again, Jeremiah: I love Leah just the way she is. The traits you and our mother find undesirable—unsuitable—are the things I adore most about her. Leah is a woman of faith who dares to be herself, rather than trying to fit the mold of Old Order expectations.”
“And by the same token, it’s our communal conformity to Old Order ways that keeps any of us from calling undue attention to ourselves, or earning a reputation for being prideful—not that I believe Leah works with livestock to attract attention or to set herself above anyone else.” Sighing, Jeremiah rose and offered
