The Patch of Heaven Collection Read online

  “We’ll see.” Alice smiled. “But today is about you.” She tucked a final pin into the intricate coil of hair and reached for a kapp. “There, you’re beautiful. Pinch your cheeks a bit to bring out the color.”

  Lilly reached a hand to her face, watching herself in the mirror with surreal fascination. Then she pinched herself and the pain reminded her that today was very real, with its nerves and nausea. But she had never felt so excited in all her life.

  The house felt overly warm to Lilly as she sat in the straight-backed chair and tried not to think about the fact that she was probably perspiring under the arms of her blue wedding dress. After the guests were seated, she’d entered with Alice in attendance, her hands folded tightly before her. And she’d deliberately avoided looking at Jacob until she was properly seated opposite him. Then she took a quick peek from beneath her lashes and had to catch her breath at his handsomeness. He’d caught her gaze back too and winked one warm eye, and she’d felt happy and secure for the moment.

  The bishop rose to give some words of advice—or perhaps it would be a longer sermon—to encourage she and Jacob, as was the custom.

  Lilly never knew what was going to come out of Bishop Loftus’s mouth. He was always wise and right, or so it seemed, but he always got to things in a funny way. Now he paced briefly, then looked to the slatted wood ceiling and back again at the small gathering.

  “I’d like to raise the point that God doesn’t care if you’re happy.”

  Oh, great, Lilly thought. Perfect for my wedding day.

  “Nope, He doesn’t care if you’re happy, but He does care, very much, if you have joy.”

  Lilly looked up.

  “Now some of you will say that the two are one and the same—happiness and joy—but this is not so. Happiness is a feeling. Happiness is fleeting, dependent on the moment, the circumstances, even the weather. Joy is transcendent, enduring, and, in the biblical context, is not an emotion. Joy is an attitude of the heart. Joy brings us peace, a refuge in the midst of troubles. God gives us joy through His Spirit. But the enemy tries to steal your joy and give you temporary happiness instead. Now, is there anything wrong with being happy? Nee, but it cannot last. So, you may wonder why I bring up the difference between these two—it is simple really.” He fixed Jacob and Lilly with his dark, raisin-like eyes.

  “I bring it up to advise you, because marriage—in its true, everyday, working, living, dying state—is not easy and not much fun.”

  Jacob coughed abruptly into his fist.

  “No, marriage is sacred before the Lord, a decision for a lifetime, but too often I think young people look upon it as a source of happiness. Do not look at marriage this way. See it as a reservoir of joy, a deep, welling spring that endures the icy blast of temper, the bite of an angry word, the void of loneliness in a heart hungry for talk when there is no response.”

  The bishop positively inspires one to want to be married, Lilly considered ruefully with nervous humor. She wondered what Jacob was thinking.

  The bishop spoke again earnestly. “Seek joy in each other, not happiness. Amen.” He stopped with his customary abruptness.

  Lilly tried to ignore the stiffness in her limbs while the bishop went on to bellow out supporting scripture. Finally, he made a motion with his small, wrinkled hand, and Lilly rose to walk forward before the assembled guests to join right hands with Jacob. She took a deep breath.

  It was time for the bishop to ask questions of each of them, similar to the vow questions asked at Englisch weddings. But Ezekiel Loftus was either too old or too wise to ask the normal questions regarding obeying, sickness, and health. Lilly had sat through many a wedding when the old man had the couple squirming with embarrassment and the guests gathered suppressing laughter—which was why she’d been dreading this. She hoped that today he was in a sober frame of mind. She held her breath as he began to pace in front of her and Jacob, his wizened arms behind his back. Finally, he turned to Jacob, and Lilly felt her groom’s hand grow warm in her own.

  “Jacob Wyse?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  The bishop stroked his long gray beard and peered up at Jacob.

  “Do you promise to love Lilly Lapp more than you do those horses of yours? Because it’s a known thing that you might tend to your horse before your fraa, and that simply might not do in the case of childbirth or fire.”

  Lilly felt the small crowd shift behind her and heard a sudden stifled chuckle.

  Jacob spoke with complete seriousness. “I do promise, sir.”

  “To what?”

  “To . . . love and care for Lilly . . . more than horses and whatever you just said, sir.”

  “Uh-huh. And do you promise, my son, to love Lilly Lapp beyond all others, beyond any other—as long as Derr Herr gives you life?”

  Lilly resisted the urge to look at the floor as the crowd stilled behind her.

  “I do so promise, sir,” Jacob said steadily.

  The old man nodded in apparent satisfaction, then swung his gaze to Lilly who met his eyes without flinching.

  “Lilly Lapp?”

  “Yes, sir,” she murmured.

  “Hmmm . . . well, let’s see, you’re the schoolteacher, which means you’re honorable, trustworthy, and loyal . . .”

  Lilly felt vaguely like he was likening her to a dog.

  “And you care for your mamm, show love for your neighbors, and are, I believe, of excellent character. Why are you marrying this man?”

  The guests tittered, but the bishop’s dark eyes were steady, penetrating. Lilly took a deep breath and half-turned to Jacob.

  “I marry him because I’ve always had respect for him, since we were kinner. He loves the creatures made by Derr Herr’s hand; he loved my father—” Her voice shook a bit.

  “Go on,” the bishop ordered.

  She wet her lips and saw that Jacob was looking at the floor, not at her, almost as if he felt he didn’t deserve her words. She spoke louder and he lifted his eyes to her own. “Derr Herr has provided this man as a proper and fitting husband for my heart and home. I marry him of my choice and of my privilege. He is—my friend and completes my life like the pieces of a quilt are worked to complete a whole.”

  Jacob’s eyes gleamed golden green and she felt lost in the moment, as if they stood alone.

  The bishop cleared his throat and spoke in High German as he enclosed his wrinkled hands about Lilly’s and Jacob’s own. “Well then, before the Lord, these two make a vow to wed. And I give my blessing upon their union, that they may live long and joyfully together, with laps full of children and hearts filled with love.”

  Lilly came back to the moment at the sounds of benches creaking and people beginning to talk, which made her realize the wedding was over. She was Lilly Wyse now, and though the bishop had dropped his hands after his blessing, she and Jacob still stood staring at each other with hands clasped.

  “Come now,” the bishop snapped. “It’s time for turkey and dressing. It’s near starving that I am. Jacob, you’ve got all your life to look upon her. And Lilly, go and talk to those school kinner who behaved so well throughout the service.”

  Lilly loosed her hand to go and obey the bishop but she was conscious of Jacob’s eyes as she moved about the room, embracing and being held in both congratulations and joy.

  Alice gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Some things won’t change between us, Lilly Wyse. You can always come to me for any support you need.”

  Lilly rejoiced as her mother hugged her, then moved on to tentatively embrace Jacob. Lilly thought it might be a good beginning for the future between her mamm and husband.

  CHAPTER 20

  The last of the guests left at dark, having stayed to help clean up and wish the couple final farewells, even though it was customary for the bride and the groom to clear up alone. Mrs. Lapp had gone to bed much later than usual, doing Lilly the honor of greeting everyone and participating in the day’s celebration, even though Lilly could tell that the e
vent was a strain. It hadn’t been particularly wondrous for her either, she realized. she’d felt uncertain at moments when guests had teased good-naturedly about her and Jacob’s hidden courtship, yet there was nothing hidden before the Lord surely. Still, she now stood uncertainly in the quiet kitchen, fingering one of her kapp strings.

  Jacob leaned against the sink, sipping from a glass of water he’d poured himself. “Well, Mrs. Wyse—what shall we do now?”

  Lilly went to the desk in the sitting room. “I’ve got your wedding gift.” She pulled a thin, simply wrapped package from the desk and slid the drawer closed. She brought it to him with a hesitant smile. “I hope you like it.”

  He put the water glass down and accepted the present. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

  She watched his tan fingers work at the wrapping and waited with naerfich anticipation for his reaction. He pulled out a primer she’d made and held it closer to the light of the lamp.

  “The cover’s pretty,” he observed, studying the pencil sketching of the mountains in winter.

  It wasn’t the cover that she was worried about, she thought, then held her breath as he turned to the first page.

  She waited while he moved closer to the lamp. She knew what he was looking at, the delicate fingertips of a woman’s hand pressed against the strength of a man’s open palm, a gesture of consent, yielding . . .

  “I don’t know what the word is,” he said, his voice husky as he indicated the letters at the top of the sketch.

  “Touch.”

  He swallowed and turned the page.

  Again, she forgot to breathe. she’d drawn him as she remembered him the day at the sink when she’d helped change his bandage—his broad back bare, his dark head bent, as if he waited in a posture half taut, half yearning.

  “Back?” he asked, and she nodded, noticing that a flush stained the strong bones of his face. She hoped she hadn’t gone too far.

  The opposite page displayed a couple in a kindled embrace. Her hair was undone and fell over the strength of his arm, while his mouth hovered a mere pencil stroke from the parting of her lips.

  Lilly watched as Jacob shifted on his long legs and noted the pulse that beat in the strong line of his throat. “Kiss?” he queried, then looked at her fully. His eyes glowed like golden embers and she suddenly wanted to run. She snatched the primer from his hand and took a step backward, clutching the booklet behind her back.

  “I . . . I suppose that’s enough for one lesson. Three new words.”

  “Words I’ll never forget,” he confided. “When’s my next lesson?”

  “Well—sometime?” she asked, rather helplessly.

  He reached behind her back and gently pried the primer loose from her fingers. “Fine, but I’ll keep my wedding gift, if you don’t mind.”

  She felt a mixture of gratitude and disappointment when he let the moment pass without fuss.

  Then he caught her hands.

  “Come on. Put on your cape. We need to go outside for your gift.”

  She smiled in pleasant confusion, but allowed him to help fasten her cloak and settle a shawl about her head.

  She drew a deep breath of the crisp mountain air then took his arm as they slipped and crunched across the snow-covered ground. He led her to the barn, and she felt her heart begin to sink as she realized what her gift probably was. But I don’t want a horse. She immediately squelched the ungrateful thought and kept a smile on her face as he slid the door open.

  The barn seemed to have taken on a new appearance. It had been ruthlessly cleaned and stacked with plenty of fresh bales of hay and bags of seed. Stray cobwebs were gone and the mellow light of a kerosene lamp played across a new worktable where unfamiliar tools were arranged in careful order. Even Ruler had obviously been groomed well for the day, a black ribbon cleverly threaded through his now silky mane.

  “The barn is one of my favorite places.” Jacob smiled at her. “Seth came over sometime before the wedding. He probably worked for hours to do all this.”

  “It looks beautiful,” Lilly replied, amazed at the transformation from what had felt like a dark and gloomy place since her daed’s passing.

  “Well, I hope you’ll find your gift beautiful too.” He walked to the far end of the barn to a newly framed stall. He snapped a lead on a horse, but Lilly could only glimpse the head. All horses looked alike to her somehow and she curled her toes inside her shoes at her disappointment over the present.

  But then Jacob led the animal into the light of the lamp and Lilly blinked in realization. “Why, it’s—it’s the mare, from that day.”

  Jacob brought the gentle beast close and put the lead in Lilly’s cold hand.

  “Her name’s Buttercup. She looks much better now.”

  “Ach, she’s a beauty.” Lilly admired the now-healthy sheen of the reddish coat and the bright yellow ribbons which trailed from a few braids in her mane. She looked deep into the animal’s dark eye and knew that this creature was one who’d suffered much but had come through with dignity and quietness. She felt her fear melt away and reached a tentative hand to stroke the mare’s forehead.

  Jacob cleared his throat. “I thought—well, that she was sort of our matchmaker, in a way, and she’s truly gentle, Lilly. I think she suits you and will be a great horse to work with while you’re learning to ride.”

  Lilly slowly slid her hand away from the mare and glanced away from Jacob’s warm eyes. “Do I have to keep that promise—to learn how to ride?”

  He stepped closer to her, so that she could feel the warmth of his long legs even through the thickness of her cloak. “Lilly,” he whispered. “Look at me.”

  She darted a glance up at his face and then let her gaze drift to the clean, swept floor. She felt him move. He caught the edges of the shawl wrapped under her chin and worked the knot with gentle fingers, lifting the cloth up and away so that she felt the chill of the air on her ears. He bent his head and put his mouth close to her neck. She shivered with the curious sensation of his warm breath competing against the cold.

  “Lilly,” he murmured, “you’re so strong, but there’s so much more to you than just strength. There’s passion. And because of that”—he trailed his lips along the line of her throat and she raised her hands to touch his chest, the lead still in her hand—“you can learn to ride; you can do anything. I believe that of you, but you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I’m here.”

  Her eyes filled with tears at his words; it was like he could see inside her heart. “Ach, Jacob,” she whispered. He caught the tear that spilled over the curve of her cheek with his mouth and moved as if to kiss her lips when the mare gave a sudden snort. Lilly startled, dropping the lead and moving away from his warmth.

  Jacob laughed. “There’s a jealous girl.” He bent to pick up the lead. “She just wants a little attention too.” He made odd deep sounds from the back of his throat, and the horse shifted with visible good humor, as if he’d actually touched her. Lilly pressed her hands into the folds of the cloak as she realized that this was Jacob’s element, his classroom. She found herself watching him with intense interest.

  Jacob moved abruptly, reaching a hand to rub Buttercup’s neck. “I’ll put her back. Go on in—it’s too cold out here for little seashell ears like yours.”

  She nodded, feeling unaccountably dismissed, and caught up her shawl, hurrying out of the barn and into the night air.

  Jacob moved mechanically as he led the horse to the stall and swung the door closed after ushering Buttercup inside and removing her halter and lead. It was so easy—in a way—to do and say the right things, the things expected of a husband. A casual caress here, maybe a kiss there, but his eyes burned as he acknowledged the truth to himself. When he touched Lilly, thoughts of Sarah still came to him. Even with the incredible primer that had so stirred him, he couldn’t help the passing thought of what it would be like if it were Sarah who longed for his touch instead of Lilly. He put the heels of his hands to his eyes and be
nt his head. The two women had become tangled in his mind like knots in a chain, and Seth’s words came back to haunt him. He couldn’t fool himself. He drew a sobbing breath and started to pray. “Please, Father. Help me not to sin by coveting another man’s wife. Help me to choose. To choose my wife’s love. To decide to love her. Sei so gut, answer that prayer I said at my wedding today and sweep the past away; drive it away. Make my heart new. Ach, Lord, please.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Lilly startled a bit when he opened the master bedroom door a crack.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Jah, of course.”

  She’d taken off her cloak and shoes, and now she stood in the light of two lamps, surveying the wedding gifts which lined the bed and decorated the floor of the room.

  “So, what did we get?” he asked with a smile, hoping the residue of his tears didn’t show. She returned his smile. “Many wunderbaar things. I especially love the painting . . . no guessing who that’s from.” She lifted a small watercolor of the schoolhouse in winter from the foot of the bed and held it out for his admiration. None of the gifts had labels on them; they were meant to be given to the bride and groom as representations of the goodwill of the community as a whole. But the painting could have been done by no one else.

  Jacob nodded at the art. “I guess you’re officially in the family now if Seth’s letting you see his work.”

  “I’m honored.”

  Jacob bent to admire a new leather bridle on the floor while she put the painting back and fingered the clean steel of a teapot. “There are linens too and a lot of canned goods. And I’m not sure, but I think that the leather tooling kit is from Sarah and Grant Williams. I saw her entering the bedroom before the wedding with something about its size.”

  Jacob nodded, not speaking, and she went on in a hurry.

  “Ach, and the schoolchildren, or perhaps their mothers, made this.” She held up a square of fabric.

  “A square?” he asked with good humor.

  “No . . . not just a square.” She moved closer to him and displayed the quilt square which had all the children’s names embroidered on it with a delicate border of hearts and vines and the wedding date. “There was a little note with it. I’m to use it when I have my wedding quilting . . . I mean . . . if I do.”