Chapter 4
As they neared the King farm, a seemingly endless row of horses and buggies came into view. The whole adult community must have been invited; most weddings were smaller. Jacob began to doubt his actions in allowing the schoolteacher to be part of any of the mess he’d gotten himself into. Yet, at the thought of insisting she enter the well-lit King home alone, a soft voice, gentle but persistent, came to him from inside his heart. He’d experienced enough of his faith to recognize that it was Derr Herr who’d brought the girl to the barn this morning, and, for some reason, he understood that she was supposed to be involved. Still, as he angled the buggy into a spot, he felt he should give her one more chance to choose—but he already could guess her response. She has a strong will, he thought with a private smile.
“Sure we shouldn’t rather have a Doc in town take a look at this arm?” he asked her. “We know the bullet passed clean through; the bleeding’s pretty much stopped. It’s not too late for you to just slip out of the buggy and forget the whole thing.”
“Everyone will have seen us by now—together,” Lilly said, glancing at the wide, uncurtained windows of the King house where figures passed in gay motion, illuminated by many kerosene lamps.
Together. He blinked at that. He hadn’t considered how it might appear if they showed up late—and together—for the wedding celebration. He, who’d spent years dodging, or merely ignoring, advances from the ladies of the community, was arriving late to a wedding with a rumpled and ill-clothed schoolteacher. He bent his head and ran through the social implications of such an arrival. Of course, it could be as simple an explanation as him finding her along the road, stuck in the icy rain, and he just happened by. He nearly groaned aloud. More lies. And all his fault. But before he could think further, she’d slipped down from the buggy and stood on the ground looking up at him expectantly.
There was something brave about the way she stood in his mother’s socks and the too-short cloak and dress she wore. Her blue eyes were steady and trusting. But she had far more to lose in this situation than he did. Why, she could be forced to give up her teaching position if there was any question about where they had been. And he knew well enough the wagging tongues that some women in the community enjoyed using against others. He needed to just forget this whole thing and go see Granger, alone.
He looked up to see Lilly on the porch, looking back at him. He hastened to get down from the buggy and to reach her side. Before he could get there, the door was flung open by a young woman—Kate Zook. Jacob stifled a sigh. The newly-turned nineteen-year-old Zook girl was as spiteful as her mother, and he and Seth had spent many a social engagement trying to avoid the overt advances of the wily female. The girl was currently looking Lilly up and down with raised, questioning blond brows.
“Why, Jacob Wyse … and Lilly Lapp.” The girl’s voice carried insinuation. Jacob squared his jaw as those nearest the door stopped still to glance in their direction.
He took Lilly’s arm. “Kate. Good to see you. The cold is a bit much today. Would you mind letting us in?”
The girl widened the door, and Jacob kept a hand on Lilly’s arm as they pushed into the crowded room. The space seemed overly full of speculative and all-too-interested eyes. Jacob nodded to the men closest to him, then removed his hat, hanging it on a nail. A stirring in the crowd brought forth a petite older woman with a careworn face and anxious hazel eyes, who reached out small hands to touch his sleeve.
“Jacob, we’ve been so worried,” the woman said in a low voice.
He smiled down at her. “It’s all right, Mamm. It’s just been a busy morning.” He glanced at Lilly and Mrs. Wyse extended her hand to greet the schoolteacher.
“Lilly, it’s gut to see you.” His mother’s smile was warm; then she turned to her son. “Last night, Jacob—Seth and your daed went looking when you didn’t come home.”
Jacob loved his mother, though at the moment he wished she’d contain her concern; she certainly wasn’t making the situation look any better for Lilly.
He smiled again with reassurance, ignoring the group who’d now gathered about the door. “I’ll explain later, Mamm. Let’s take some time to celebrate. I, er, we must congratulate the bride and groom.”
“Jah.” His mother nodded, patting his arm. “You both, take off your outdoor things and come and have something warm to eat.”
He hesitated to take off his coat, unsure if his arm had started to bleed again and shot a quick glance at Lilly. She appeared confident as she prepared to remove the borrowed cloak, but he knew how odd she’d appear once it was off.
“Uh, Mamm … Lilly, I mean, Miss Lapp, would surely like to keep her cloak on, as I would my coat, at least until we warm up a bit.”
He almost breathed a sigh of relief as Lilly’s fingers paused.
Then Kate Zook spoke loudly. “Not home last night, then late to the wedding, with the schoolteacher not wearing her own clothes—they do appear rather short. Were you two in some kind of trouble?”
Jacob saw his mother’s eyes flash green fire at the girl, and Lilly opened her mouth to speak. He cut her off.
“Kate, danki for your concern, but we must see the bride and groom before we enjoy any of the delicious food. If you’ll excuse us.”
He grabbed his mother’s arm and Lilly’s hand, figuring it was best to keep them close by in case anyone raised more questions. He plowed through the crowded front room into the next sitting room. Lavish food tables lined the area, with the eck, or bridal table, in one corner of the room. He squared his shoulders as he approached the bride and groom and their attendants with the two women in tow. He was perfectly aware of the attention he was attracting, not just with his mother and Lilly, but also because of the interest people had in what his reaction to the bridal couple would be.
His determined eyes took in the beauty of the bride, Sarah King—nee, Sarah Williams now—and her dear, familiar face; a face he’d known and loved since childhood. He couldn’t help it; when he saw her he forgot that she was the bride of the day—another man’s wife. He only thought of the years that he’d harbored a love for her that harrowed his heart and mind and robbed his will of reason. It was beyond him, beyond his ability to solve or escape. Then, unbidden, and against his will, he found himself praying a prayer for another love, a love that would sweep all before it like a driving spring rain. He almost smiled as he finished the thought. He must be addled in the head, from his wound and the wedding, because he knew without a doubt that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with another woman. His whole focus of living for the moment would bear no place for a second-best love.
He refocused and forced himself to acknowledge that Sarah looked happy, even radiant. He’d rehearsed this moment a million times, wondering how he’d get through it. But never had he imagined approaching the table with a concealed gunshot wound and two women in tow.
Sarah and Grant beamed at them as they came forward. Lovely diversion, he thought, plastering a smile on his face. He stood about as much chance of getting his arm looked at now as an Englischer did at hiding out at an Amish baptism.
He was within a foot of the eck when sudden, loud voices from the front door echoed across the rooms and he turned with everyone else to see what the disturbance could be. He heard Lilly’s sharp, indrawn breath as a young police officer, with gun drawn, entered the main bridal party room. The bishop, Ezekiel Loftus, an elderly and outspoken man, followed closely behind.
“I tell you to stop, young man! You’ve no right to be here at such a time as this. It’s a wedding and our people’s own doings.”
The police officer stood amidst the crowd of stunned guests. The Amish, as a rule, did not believe in violence against fellow human beings and the handgun was an insult to Sarah and her day. Jacob wanted to rap the young man in the head.
“It’s my doings if there’s a horse thief here,” the officer returned. “And I say there is. I’ve been watching from the woods for the past hour and I noticed you had a late guest or two. One was a big Amish man, no beard, dark hat and coat.”
The bishop nodded. “And what Amish man doesn’t have a dark hat and coat?”
“You know what I mean.” The officer’s gaze swung through the crowd and lighted on Jacob, still dressed in his outerwear. “You! Take off your coat.”
All eyes turned to Jacob and he let go of his mother and Lilly. “As you like.” He reached for the closures on the heavy wool and would have slipped it from his shoulders when Lilly’s voice rang out, clear and resonant.
“You’re mistaken, Officer. It’s true that Jacob Wyse was late, but he was with me.” From the corner of his eye, Jacob saw her small jaw tighten as she stepped forward.
The policeman nodded. “Uh-huh, and so would a hundred others of you say to protect one of your own. But the horse was stolen last night, Miss … late.”
Lilly’s voice dropped and her lashes lowered. “He was with me then as well.”
A collective gasp followed her words. Jacob couldn’t believe what she was saying. The girl had just thrown away her reputation, her very livelihood—for him—in front of everyone.
“What are you talking about, Miss Lapp?” The bishop demanded, turning toward her, the police officer forgotten, as the guests began to murmur. The bishop was also the chairman of the school board and in charge of Lilly’s position.
Jacob moved between Lilly and the old man, and something in his spirit forced his voice to carry with level force. From far away he heard the compelling words he pronounced as if they were spoken by someone else. “Jah, sir. It’s as Miss Lapp says, but not as you all may think.” He let his eyes flash to the encircling crowd and reached out to take her hand in his own. “Lilly and I were together, but we were talking—about our future. Sei so gut congratulate us on our engagement.”