Lenore swallowed hard. Jude’s and Leah’s expressions told her they had no idea about the twins being in their room—and Stevie’s story only deepened her disappointment in Adeline’s and Alice’s troubling tendency to lie and to sneak around like feral cats. The pair appeared stricken as they draped the wet coats over the sink in the mudroom.
Jude recovered first. “We’ll deal with the girls after we’ve changed our clothes,” he said wearily. “Let’s go upstairs, Leah.”
Lenore’s heart went out to her daughter as the couple entered the front room. Even with such a stalwart, supportive husband as Jude, who’d slung a protective arm around Leah’s shoulders, facing the neighbors who’d witnessed her ordeal with the twins had to feel terribly awkward—painful, to someone as shy as Leah. Yet the neighbors were smiling, looking up from the quilt on which they’d made so much progress.
“Leah, we’re so glad you’re all right!” said Delores Flaud.
Esther sighed apologetically. “We really did appreciate the goodies you brought us,” she admitted. “And we’re sorry you missed them.”
“Hope you don’t mind that I’m taking a turn at cuddling Betsy,” Rose Wagler said from the rocking chair. Her freckled face lit up when the baby squawked and reached toward Leah and Jude. “And you know what, Leah? This beautiful baby is yours, in every way that counts, because you love her without questioning where she came from or why she showed up so unexpectedly.”
Lenore’s hand went to her throat. She’d hoped her quilting friends would offer Leah their reassurances when she returned, but she hadn’t anticipated such an outpouring of support. And when Margaret stood up to gaze at Leah and her son, appearing very nervous, Lenore held her breath.
“Leah, I owe you an apology,” Margaret said in a strained voice. “I’ve been blind—reluctant to believe what you’ve been saying about Adeline and Alice. What we all witnessed today has been a real slap in the face—a wake-up call about the outrageously rude way the girls have been treating you, and . . . and the way a lot of us have written you off as, well . . . un-wifely. I hope you can find a way to forgive me.”
“Anyone can see you’re the perfect mate for Jude,” Martha Maude put in emphatically. “You’ve stepped into a challenging situation and you’re doing your best to be the glue that holds this family together. We’ve been too slow to acknowledge this, but we’re all glad you’ve come to Morning Star, Leah.”
Lenore felt enveloped in the love and acceptance that had filled the front room. Her heart still went out to Leah, for the days ahead held more challenges with the twins, but now the network of neighbor ladies would provide some support even after she returned to Cedar Creek.
“And now, young lady, you and your man need to get yourselves into dry clothing—and get your hair put back into place with a kapp,” Naomi instructed as she playfully wagged a finger at Leah and Jude. “We’ll wipe up those puddles you’re making on the floor—”
“And I’ll put water on the stove for your tea,” Lenore added quickly. It was a relief to see Leah smiling at Naomi’s lighthearted reprimand rather than assuming it was yet another of the maidel’s customary criticisms.
“Denki for loaning me your barn coat, Naomi,” Leah said. “I’ll wash it and return it as soon as I can.”
Lenore’s heart swelled as she watched her daughter and son-in-law climb the stairs together, hand in hand. It seemed the quilting frolic had accomplished much more than mere needles and thread could do, and for that she thanked God. “I’ll put on a big pot of water, for whoever else wants hot tea,” she announced.
“Or hot chocolate!” Stevie piped up excitedly. He hugged her legs, gazing up at her with his big blue eyes. “It’s not a party without hot chocolate, right, Mammi Lenore?”
“You’ve got it right, Stevie,” she replied as she stroked his mop of thick brown hair. “Come help me set out some more goodies so it’ll be a real party. We have a lot to celebrate.”
* * *
On the following Monday afternoon, Jude felt high on anticipation as he set a large suitcase inside the buggy. In a few moments he and Leah would be leaving for the Kanagys’ Countryside B and B to enjoy four glorious days without anyone except themselves to keep track of—and he planned to stay lost in love for the entire time he was away. When he returned to the house, he felt compelled to say a few last words to everyone who’d remained in the kitchen to see him and Leah off.
Jude gazed at Adeline and Alice, who appeared so contrite—so very Amish—in the maroon cape dresses Lenore had recently sewn for them. They stood at the sink washing and drying the dinner dishes, their expressions still somber from his stern lectures and the extra household duties he’d assigned them over the weekend. After the ladies had gone home from the quilting frolic, the girls had apologized to Leah, and she had accepted their apology—but it would be a while before the clouds in their relationship with their stepmamm had a chance of clearing. Adolescent resentment had roots as deep and widespread as trees, it seemed to him.
“Goes without saying, girls, that I expect a gut report when we get home,” he remarked. “And Stevie, you’re to be your uncle’s right-hand man while I’m away, so there’ll be no tomfoolery on your part, either, jah?”
“We’re gut to go, Dat,” the boy replied as he gazed adoringly at Jeremiah. “All the horses and Leah’s animals are gonna be fed and watered just the way they’re supposed to
