Chapter 25
Jacob watched his brother holding his wife with a detached fury that surprised him in its intensity. He leaned against the doorjamb and spoke in a soft voice.
“Seth, I ought to whip your back raw for this. Go downstairs. Now.”
“She needed comfort, Jacob. Something you’re not willing to give.”
“You’ve got about five seconds.”
Seth slid his arms from around Lilly with visible reluctance. “Fine. You work this out, Jacob—if you can.” He brushed past and Jacob had to restrain himself from laying hands on him.
He closed the door quietly, then turned to face her. She didn’t look guilty, only sad, and he felt a renewed stab of self-recrimination and anger that he couldn’t give her the easy comfort that Seth could. Then his prayers came back to him, and he felt Derr Herr speak deep inside. Choose. Decide. Decide to give.
He pushed off the wood of the door and came to stand in front of her. She had her arms crossed protectively against her chest and her blue eyes swam with tears.
He drew a deep breath. “My brother can gain anyone’s admiration; he’s quick-witted, even-tempered, talented—but, sometimes, in a way, he makes me feel like an old man. I’ve always thought that I had to be stronger, more cautious, and more serious—to protect him somehow.”
He reached out to thumb away a stray tear that spilled down her cheek.
“I don’t want to be all those things with you, Lilly. I want to be alive, to breathe, to be real.” He trailed his hand down to rub the fine bones of her wrist, her tears dampening her soft skin. “Oh, Lilly … what was it your primer said? Touch?” He drew his finger across her stiff arms, then back up to trace the gentle curve of her shoulder. He stepped closer, thankful that she didn’t retreat.
He used the back of his hand to cross her damp cheek, feather across her brows, then come back again to test the delicate bones of her arms.
He thought how small and refined she seemed for all of her slender height. She was a lady in so many ways, and she would, of course, be drawn to culture like Seth’s art. He broke off the thought and gently reached both arms around her, not holding—waiting.
“I’m not Seth, Lilly. But I can give,” he whispered.
He watched the indecision in her eyes, the haunting drift between his betrayal and her want. Then she spoke clearly and broke the circle of his arms.
“And I’m not Sarah, Jacob.”
She wiped her sleeve across her eyes and made for the door, the sound of her footsteps echoing in his mind like stones thrown far away.
She hadn’t taken more than five steps into the hall when she felt her heart convict her for crying out to Seth, and not God—nor to Jacob. She remembered the quilting vision she’d had the night of the engagement and thought how far she’d drifted from that message in her life. And she knew she was trying to get away from that message when a dark part of herself began to whisper that she’d not even had a wedding quilting. Her feet found the top of the stairs of their own accord and she gripped the carved banister. What did a wedding quilt matter? What did it prove? That she was legitimately married? Well, she knew she was, and she’d just dishonored her husband with his own brother, no matter what her intent. The Lord had given her the idea to work to create something in life with Jacob. She felt like running back to the room and letting him hold her, but she couldn’t. Not when she remembered his hoarse cry of Sarah’s name and her resolve. She prayed that God would help her release her insecurity and found herself at the bottom of the steps.
If Mary Wyse knew there was something wrong, she gave Lilly no indication as she caught her arm and encouraged her to walk with her into the main room.
“Uncle Sebastian is telling stories—he’s Samuel’s uncle, really. He runs a logging outfit deep in the mountains and normally only comes down to have a visit at First Christmas. He’s a character, but we all love him. You’ll have to see.”
Lilly smiled, hoping her face wasn’t blotchy from her tears. She didn’t see Seth anywhere and wandered in the direction her mother-in-law pointed her.
Lilly gathered close with other visiting aentis, uncles, and cousins, who listened with merry enjoyment as Uncle Sebastian regaled them with tales from the woods. The man was probably about seventy and, to her surprise, appeared to be partially blind in his foggy blue eyes. But his gnarled hands moved with certainty to accept the glass of milk and plate of gingerbread cookies that a cousin brought him. Lilly knew that here was a man who had experienced much of life and had endured, like the mountains he came from.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smiled, and recalled another tale. Lilly could see that everyone around her waited with pleasure for his words, even the adolescents who would normally keep to their own side of the room. Insolent Kate Zook also seemed momentarily transfixed.
“Ach, I was just reminded of the time one summer that me and the boys took a trip away to the Ice Mine … but you all probably know this one.”
He was met with a chorus of protests and Lilly began to listen, loving the oral storytelling traditions of her people. Uncle Sebastian stroked his beard.
“Jah, it’s always a wonder to me to visit that place. Now the Englisch, some of them call an ice mine a freak of nature, but that’s not quite right because it is not an actual mine. It’s really a deep shaft, put there by the Lord, I guess. When the ice formations appear during the spring of the year and continue through the hot weather, folks around can have fresh ice. But it’s a funny thing— the shaft goes dry in winter; perhaps Derr Herr figures we’ve got enough ice on the ground then. The last time I went, me and the boys saw huge icicles measuring about as big around as a strong man’s arm. The ice is real pretty too, clear and sparkling …”
“Oh,” Lilly spoke up from back in the group. “How was this place found? It sounds lovely.”
“Ach, well, a new voice …” He paused, then raised his voice. “And Jacob, you grow stronger every year. When will you leave your horses, eh, and bring that broad back up to the timber?”
Jacob laughed as Lilly noticed that her husband had drifted close. “I give my word we’ll come for a visit this summer, sir,” he said.
“Ach, I forget so easily—it’s ‘we’ who’ll be coming, but I hear that your Sarah married another man.”
There was a distinct pause in the conversation around them, and Lilly tried to look normal as Jacob caught her eye in the sudden stillness. “I’ve recently come to realize that each woman is her own … not a man’s to be had.”
Lilly tried to ignore the feeling of chagrin his words produced and pulled nervously at her kapp string.
Uncle Sebastian pursed his weathered lips in thought. “So, did I miss a wedding or not?”
The family moved as Jacob reached his long arm through the small group to catch Lilly’s hand and pull her forward, directly in front of the man.
“My bride, Uncle Sebastian, Lilly Wyse.”
Lilly had to ignore the warmth of Jacob’s hand on her own and focused instead on the strange feeling that she was being studied deeply … not just by the bleary eyes of the older man but somehow further. The expression “sight beyond sight” drifted across her consciousness as she stood in patience.
Uncle Sebastian put down his milk and cookie and held out a hand to her. She took it readily as Jacob let her go.
“Ahh,” he murmured. “Now, here is one who is like my Rachel was. Hair dark as the shadows of a glen, eyes like hidden pools, and strong, jah, but a strength that yields—bends, but never breaks. You have chosen well, Jacob, but she lacks one thing.”
Lilly had colored under the pointed remarks and hoped he wouldn’t comment on her need for children. But he laughed, and she stared at him.
“Nee, my daughter, it is not the kinner that you want for, because I can see that they dance about you like drops of sunlight through the pines. Nee, you lack for something else, something even more precious. Do you know what it is, Jacob?”
Lilly felt the eyes of all turn to her husband, and she watched, knowing he was mentally sifting through answers.
Uncle Sebastian laughed again and tugged on her hand with remarkable strength. She leaned forward and bent close to him, breathing in the smells of the mountains and fresh air. “I will tell you, my beauty, because perhaps the Lord has not revealed it yet to you.”
Lilly caught her breath and bent closer as the old man whispered a single word in her ear. She drew back a bit and stared into the wise eyes and felt tears come to her throat.
“Nee, no crying now, not on the eve of the Savior’s birth.” He patted her hand. “But you remember and perhaps let your Jacob know when you’ve found it, will you?”
She kissed his weathered cheek. “Jah, I promise.” She wondered if the man could see her heart and knew how distant Jacob seemed to her.
But Uncle Sebastian let her go and began another tale.
She slipped away from the group. Jacob followed and caught her arm as she moved toward the kitchen to help Mamm Wyse.
“What did he say?”
Lilly shook her head. “I cannot tell you.”
Jacob frowned. “He didn’t say that.”
“Nee, but I know it just the same. I’ve got to go and help your mamm.”
She slipped from him, knowing he stared after her, and went to the fragrant and bustling kitchen to join the other women of her new family.
Lilly concentrated on stirring the pot of cider to circulate the many good spices that had been added to the fragrant brew. She was lost in her own thoughts until the familiar sound of a girl’s voice cut across her consciousness with sharp tones. She glanced over one shoulder to see Mrs. Zook hustling Kate into the adjacent pantry, and tried not to listen. But it was difficult when both mother and daughter’s voices were so loud and strained.
“I told you, Kate, keep your voice down. You’ll make fools of us as you make a fool of yourself by taking up with this Englischer.”
“I don’t care what you say, Mamm. Tommy Granger is nothing like his father. He hates his father, and I’m tired of playing second fiddle to a bunch of whey-faced girls who have no right to be married at all.”
Lilly noticed the other women out of the corner of her eye and saw that they, too, overheard. She stirred harder, blinking back tears of frustration. Kate’s whey-faced comment was not-so-subtly directed at her.
Her mother-in-law had obviously had enough and marched through the group to the pantry to speak in low, fast Penn Dutch. Then, there was a sudden silence and Kate ran from the small room to snatch her cloak from a peg and disappear outside. Mrs. Zook emerged, appearing as though she’d aged, and Lilly felt a moment’s compassion for her. It could not be easy to manage a headstrong girl like Kate.
The women soon bustled back to various chores while Lilly handed Mrs. Zook a fresh cup of cider and the atmosphere drifted back to one of goodwill. But Lilly’s heart still smarted from the younger girl’s barb. She knew Kate’s words stung because they were laced with the unfortunate truth.