The Bishop's Daughter (39 page)

“That’s not true, Abner. You’re kind, considerate, and a good provider for your mamm and little bruder. Those are fine qualities that a woman hoping to get married would look for in a husband.”

Abner’s ears turned pink as he started back across the room. “Well, guess I’d best be gettin’ home. Emanuel’s probably there already.”

“Jah, the kinner left awhile ago.” She followed him to the door. “I’ll let you know what Mary Ann has to say about the valentine, and I promise to give it to her right away.”

Abner gave Leona a backward wave and climbed into his buggy. He’d just pulled out of the school yard when Jimmy’s truck pulled in.

Reaching up to make sure her covering was properly in place, she stepped forward to greet him. “Come inside. It’s awfully cold.”

“You can say that again.” He offered her a smile so warm she thought it could have melted the snow covering the school yard.

As soon as they stepped into the schoolhouse, Leona motioned Jimmy over to the stove. “There’s some treats left from our Valentine’s Day party,” she said, pointing to some cookies and a jug of punch on the table. “Would you care for something to eat or drink?”

“That’d be nice.” Jimmy took a chocolate chip cookie and popped it into his mouth. “Umm. . . This is good.” He washed it down with some punch and grinned at her like an eager child. “Did you make these?”

She shook her head. “Naomi Fisher baked ’em.”

“Was that one of your students’ parents I saw leaving in the buggy?” he asked, glancing toward the front window.

“It was Abner Lapp.”

“Came to pick up his little brother, I’ll bet.”

“Actually, the kinner left some time ago. Abner dropped by to deliver this.” She picked up the envelope from her desk. “It’s a valentine card.”

“I see.” Jimmy’s smile turned to a frown. “Guess you won’t be wanting mine then.”

Tears welled up in Leona’s eyes, and she blinked to keep them from spilling over. “You—you brought me a valentine?”

He nodded soberly. “Should have known you probably had a
boyfriend and would be getting one from him. It’s just that—well, I’d hoped—” His voice trailed off as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Is it all right if I give it to you, anyway—from one friend to another?”

“Abner’s not my boyfriend,” she stammered. “The card he brought isn’t for me.”

“It’s not?”

“No. He asked me to deliver it to Mary Ann Fisher. He was afraid to give it to her himself.”

Jimmy’s contagious smile was back in place, and he quickly handed her the envelope.

With trembling fingers, Leona tore open the flap and removed the card. It read:
In life’s garden, friends are the flowers. Thanks for being my friend, Jimmy
.

“Danki. It’s a very nice card, and I’m glad you’re my friend, too.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she had to blink several times to keep her tears from spilling over.
Oh, Jimmy, I wish we could be more than friends
.

Jimmy set down his empty cup, then took another cookie and stuffed it in his pocket. “I—uh—need to check on a paint job for Arthur before I head for the Rabers’. I probably should be on my way. Danki for the treat.”

“You’re welcome.” Leona felt a sense of disappointment as she watched him leave the building. If she were willing to open her heart to love again, it would be to someone like Jimmy. But of course that was impossible since she was Amish and he was English. Besides, she was afraid of committing herself to a man, knowing he could be taken from her the way Ezra had been.

As Leona returned to cleaning the room, she released a sigh.
Life’s full of disappointments, and losing a loved one is the worst kind. I’ve already suffered several injustices, and I’ll do whatever I can to protect myself from more
.

Lydia reached for an orange from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter and was shocked to discover that it wasn’t a real orange at all. She turned to face Jacob, who sat at the table drinking a glass of milk. “Have you
been playing tricks on me again?”

He grinned like a mischievous boy and bobbed his head up and down. “I wanted to see if you’d take notice.”

“Oh, I noticed all right. Almost cut this up to put in the fruit salad I’m making for supper tonight.” She held up the plastic orange. “Where’d you get this?”

“Found it in the one of the houses we was paintin’ last week. The lady who lived there said I could have it.”

Lydia grimaced.
What must that woman have thought when a grown man asked for a plastic orange?

“What else are we havin’ for supper?” Jacob asked.

“Chicken potpie, soft bread sticks, pickled beets, and fruit salad.”

“How ’bout dessert?”

“I took a jar of applesauce from the root cellar this afternoon, and we’ll probably have cookies if Leona brings some home from the Valentine’s Day party she had for the scholars.”

“Umm.” Jacob smacked his lips. “Know what, Lydia?”

“What’s that?”

“You look good in the face.”

She smiled. In some ways, her husband hadn’t changed so much since he’d lost his memory. He’d always had a sense of humor, and even some of his more boyish pranks seemed to fit with his jovial personality. He’d begun calling her “Lydia” again, but she knew it wasn’t because he remembered her as his wife. It was simply a matter of her telling him over and over that she wasn’t his mother and her name was Lydia.

“Danki, Jacob,” she said. “I’m kind of partial to your face, too.”

“Jimmy told a funny joke before he brought me home today,” Jacob said.

“Do you want to share it with me?”

“Jah, sure.” Jacob drank the last of his milk and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Lydia was tempted to say something about his manners but changed her mind. No point in ruining the camaraderie between them over something so small.

“Let’s see now,” Jacob began. “An Englisher stopped by an Amish man’s house one day and said, ‘I’m headin’ to Blue Ball, so does it make any difference which road I take?’ ” He paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The Amish man thought for a minute; then he answered,
‘Nope. Don’t make no difference to me.’ ”

Lydia chuckled. Thanks to Jimmy, Jacob was able to work half days, and he seemed much happier than he had before.

“Want to hear another joke? Richard told me a couple of good ones today.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

A knock sounded at the back door before Jacob could begin the next story. “Want me to get it?” he asked.

Lydia reached into the fruit bowl for an apple. “I’d appreciate that.”

A rush of cold air whipped into the room when Jacob opened the door. Caleb Hoffmeir stomped his boots on the porch and stepped inside.

“It’s good to see you, Caleb,” Lydia said. “What brings you out our way on this cold afternoon?”

“Naomi wanted me to let Leona know that our nephew John is in the hospital.”

Lydia crinkled her forehead. “I’m sorry to hear that. What’s he there for?”

“He got sick at school today, and since Naomi had gone with Abby to serve the scholars a hot lunch, she volunteered to take him home. By the time they got halfway there, he’d thrown up several times. So Naomi took him to the clinic in town and got word to her brother and his wife, asking them to meet her there.”

Jacob ambled across the room and plunked down in the chair. “I don’t like doctors. You gotta watch out for ’em ’cause they poke around on you too much and ask a bunch of questions.”

Lydia turned to Caleb. “What did the doctor at the clinic say about John?”

“They ran a couple of tests and sent him straightaway to the hospital in Lancaster.” Caleb shook his head. “By the time they got him there, his appendix had burst open.”

Lydia clucked her tongue. “That can be serious.”

Caleb nodded. “They rushed him into surgery, and the last I heard, he’s doin’ as well as can be expected.”

“We should pray for John,” Jacob said in a serious tone. “God can heal the boy. I’m sure of it.”

Caleb glanced at Lydia with a peculiar expression, and she wondered
if his thoughts were the same as hers. Had her husband’s comment come from Jacob the bishop, or was he merely repeating something he’d heard at one of their church services?

Before Lydia could voice the question, the back door swung open and Leona entered the kitchen. “Oh, it’s you, Caleb,” she said, removing her dark bonnet and brushing flakes of snow off the top. “I was wondering whose rig that was outside.”

“He dropped by to give you news of John Fisher,” Lydia said before Caleb could respond.

Leona nodded. “He got sick at school today, and Naomi took him home. I think he’s got the flu.”

“He ain’t got no flu,” Jacob spoke up.

“It’s much worse than that,” Caleb said. “John’s appendix ruptured, and he’s in the hospital recovering from surgery.”

Leona’s face turned chalky white. “All morning the boy complained of a stomachache. I should have realized how sick he was.” She paced the length of the kitchen, her hands clasped in front of her as she slowly shook her head. “If he’d gotten to the hospital sooner, they might have caught it before his appendix ruptured.”

“Now don’t blame yourself,” Lydia was quick to say. “You had no way of knowing it was more than a simple flu bug causing him to feel sick.”

“Your mamm’s right,” Caleb agreed. “From what I understand, it’s not easy to know when someone’s having a problem with their appendix.”

A look of doubt flashed onto Leona’s face, and Lydia felt relief when her daughter finally nodded and said, “I’ll have the class make John some get-well cards tomorrow. After school’s out for the day, I’ll see about getting a ride to Lancaster so I can visit him at the hospital.”

Jacob folded his arms and shook his head. “Not me. I ain’t goin’ to no hospital. Never again!”

T
he following afternoon, shortly after Leona’s students went home, Jimmy showed up at the schoolhouse to drive her to the hospital. He promised to take her by Abby’s quilt shop afterwards so she could deliver Abner’s valentine to Mary Ann.

“I appreciate you doing this for me,” Leona said as Jimmy opened the door on the passenger’s side of his pickup.

“I’m willing to drive you wherever you need to go, so don’t hesitate to ask.” Jimmy smiled. “That goes for anyone else in your family who might ever need a ride.”

“Danki.” She said, sliding into her seat.

He closed the door and came around to the driver’s side. “Have you been ice-skating lately?” he asked, once he was seated and had shut his own door.

Leona shook her head.

“Maybe we could go again this Saturday and then have lunch somewhere afterward.”

“You—you mean, just the two of us?”

He nodded. “If that’s all right with you?”

Leona knew it wouldn’t look good if she went skating alone with Jimmy. If anyone saw them together, they might assume she and Jimmy were on a date.

She studied his handsome face. Was a date what he had in mind?

“You’re awfully quiet,” he said. “Are you afraid I might fall on the ice again?”

Leona’s fingers trembled as she snapped her seat belt into place. “I–I’m concerned that someone might get the wrong idea if they see us alone together.”

“We’re alone now.”

“This is different. You’re driving me somewhere. Ice-skating by ourselves would be more like a—”

“Date?”

She nodded. “Some young Amish women do date English fellows when they’re going through
rumschpringe
, but once a woman has been baptized and joined the church, she’s expected to date only Amish men.”

“Have you found a special Amish man yet?” he asked.

“No, and I’m not looking.”

“If I were Amish or you were English, would you go out with me?”

Tears pricked the back of her eyes. “You’re not Amish, and if we started courting, I would be shunned.”

“Eli has explained some things about your way of life, and I realize how serious a shunning can be.” He started to reach across the seat, but pulled his hand back. “Can we still be friends?”

She nodded slowly. A friendship with Jimmy was all she could ever have, even if he were Amish or she were English.