“Mama, it’ll be so gut having you here,” Leah said, gazing into her mother’s eyes. “I’ve missed our talks, and the way your presence always calms me. What a blessing it’ll be to have you here as we get ready for the baby, too.”
Mama’s eyes shone with tears. “I’ve waited a long time for grandkids,” she said softly, “and now—why, I’ll soon have five of them! I won’t be living in a house that’s too quiet anymore.”
Leah chuckled, slipping an arm around Mama’s shoulders. “I doubt Calvin or Ivan will be showing up here unannounced at mealtimes, either,” she said in a low voice. “But if a nice man comes along wanting to court you—”
“We’ll all be here to check him out!” Stevie interrupted brightly.
Mama burst out laughing. “If that happens, he’ll either pass muster or he won’t, and that’ll be the end of it,” she said. “It’ll be such a relief not to listen to Ivan’s long-winded stories—or to wish Calvin would shower more often.”
When Alice and Adeline grimaced and went back to making their fried pies, Leah ran hot water to begin washing the dishes. What a morning this had been, and it wasn’t yet eight o’clock! No matter what sort of mystery Jude might still have up his sleeve, it couldn’t possibly compare to the news she and Mama had just shared.
And when Mama drove to Cedar Creek to bring back another load of her clothes and belongings, Leah didn’t think anything of it....
Chapter 28
Was it Leah’s imagination, or did folks seem extra-happy to see her as the family arrived at Jeremiah’s for church on Sunday morning? She’d anticipated that Betsy’s presence would spark conversation among the women as they gathered in Margaret’s kitchen before the service, yet she sensed another undercurrent, too . . . secretive glances, and snatches of whispered conversation that stopped when she came near. Leah could recall the same furtive behavior when she’d first married Jude, but this time the women seemed festive and cheerful rather than judgmental.
“Happy Mother’s Day, all!” Margaret called out as she greeted Leah and the other ladies. “Won’t it be nice to have the men setting out the food and cleaning up after the meal today?”
“I’m not a mother, but I enjoy this Sunday every spring!” Naomi Slabaugh said with a chuckle.
Esther’s chins quivered with her chuckle. “Jah, it’ll be a real treat to relax out in the shade with lemonade and extra dessert while the fellows do the work,” she said. “And today we’ll have Betsy to entertain us, too.”
Leah was amazed when the two maidel sisters came up to her and tweaked Betsy’s nose as though she were their favorite niece. The other women were also greeting Leah as they placed their pans of food on Margaret’s counters and in the refrigerator. Soon everyone was filing into Bishop Jeremiah’s expanded front room to begin the service. Gabe Flaud sang the first few words of the opening hymn.
As everyone’s voices rose in the ancient song, Leah noticed how little Betsy brightened and began to gaze at the women seated around them. She wiggled happily in her basket on the pew bench, even though the hymn was rather slow and somber. Was the wee girl fond of music? Or did she simply enjoy being in the company of so many folks who smiled and paid attention to her? Either way, Leah couldn’t recall feeling happier at church—especially considering how some of these ladies had once considered her an odd duck because she worked with animals.
Leah blinked. I was indeed an odd duck, because I got along better with my goats than I did with most people, she thought. Now that I’ve chosen to be a part of Jude’s family—and his church district—I’m more open to the company of women, and they accept me. I feel like I belong here now.
It was a wondrous revelation. A few verses of the hymn went right past Leah before she found her place on the page of the Ausbund and joined the singing again. Her heart felt light, and as Betsy began to babble quietly, Leah couldn’t help smiling. Surely, God had found favor with her, and He’d blessed her with a life she could’ve only dreamed about last year at this time.
After a time of kneeling for prayer, Bishop Jeremiah began the first sermon. Although Leah had always admired Bishop Vernon’s wisdom and his way with words, she also appreciated the energy with which the Morning Star bishop addressed his congregation. His voice rang with enthusiasm as he told them the story of Jesus feeding the multitude that had gathered on the hillsides.
“With only a few little fishes and loaves of bread—certainly less food than we’ll consume after church today—our Savior satisfied the hunger of more than four thousand people. And there were leftovers!” he exclaimed with outstretched arms. “It was a miracle, for sure and for certain, and once again Jesus was showing those who followed Him that in God, all things are possible to those who believe—”
Leah sucked in her breath and sat very still, oblivious to the rest of Jeremiah’s sentence. She’d felt a flutter deep inside. Could it be the baby moving? She closed her eyes and focused inward, praying for guidance.
This time the movement was more distinct, and Leah was filled with awe. The bishop might be expounding upon wondrous events of long ago and far away, but right here on the pew bench she was experiencing her own miracle. She’d witnessed birth dozens of times in barns and pens, yet now that she was the mother involved, the whole process took on a brilliance that rivaled the sun. Somehow Leah made it through the remaining hours of the service without exploding from sheer joy.
At long last, Bishop Jeremiah pronounced the benediction. “Do we have any announcements?” he asked with a knowing smile. “Any concerns or news about our family or friends?”
When
