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 event 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 bent 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.”