Until I Love Again (43 page)

“Maddening!” Lydia muttered aloud.

“I know,” Rosemary said from a few feet away. “These weeds are stubborn as all get-out.” Lydia took another whack with her hoe as she gave Rosemary a smile. Thankfully the younger girl couldn't read her thoughts.

Though Lydia's rivalry with Sandra descended to low depths at times, neither she nor Sandra seemed able to back off. On this point they were equally determined. Whoever won Ezra's hand in marriage would have won the most important competition between the two girls.

For this contest they were evenly matched indeed. Both Sandra and Lydia had decent looks—among the best in the St. Lawrence County Amish community. Lydia had heard whispered more than once by one of the younger girls in frustration, “Those pretty Troyer cousins!”

Lydia stood up straighter as she caught sight of Ezra's smiling face. He walked her way, but then he glanced across the barnyard to where Sandra was working and waved toward her. Sandra waved back, but stayed on her knees. Lydia grinned as Sandra tried in desperation to tuck a few loose strands of hair under her
kapp
with one hand. The attempt, no doubt, left further smudges of dirt on Sandra's face.

Ezra hollered something toward Sandra she couldn't understand. Sandra appeared to smile and hollered something back as Ezra moved closer. Lydia could see the girls near Sandra giggle at this exchange between the two. After a few words, Ezra moved on, walking toward Lydia.

“Looks like you get your chance now,” Rosemary said with a wicked smile. “When are Sandra and you going to settle this matter?”

Lydia didn't answer. There wasn't anything to say. Ezra would choose soon. He would have to. She so wanted to win this competition. It had always been difficult to tell who would gain the upper hand, whether Sandra or herself. Back in their school days Sandra would have the best average grade one week, and the next week Lydia would be ahead. But with this contest, someone would be left heartbroken. That would hurt worse than any defeat they'd suffered at school.

Lydia rallied her emotions as Ezra drew near.

“Hi there, Ezra,” Rosemary chirped before Lydia could speak. “We've been needing a man on this fencerow for some time.”

Lydia gave Ezra a sly smile, but remained quiet now that Rosemary had spoken up first. She used a low-key approach. Sandra, on the other hand, could chatter a hundred miles a minute when she had the opportunity.

“Well, then. It looks like I've come to the right place,” Ezra said with a chuckle.

Lydia gave Ezra an admiring look. “You should be able to handle the rest of this fencerow all by yourself then.”

“Oh no,” Ezra protested. “I wouldn't want to lose the company of two such pretty females. Please stay.”

Rosemary gave a sly grin. “Your sugar tongue will get you nowhere with me, you know.”

Ezra grinned. “A man's gotta try, doesn't he?”

Lydia joined in their laughter. That was what she loved about Ezra. He could joke and laugh with any of the young people and make everyone feel special and appreciated.

Rosemary handed her hoe to Ezra. “Here, I'll go get another one.”

“Thanks,” Ezra replied, seemingly pleased with the offer.

Lydia worked on a tall thistle as Rosemary hurried away. This gave her a few moments alone with Ezra. Giving him a quick glance, she said, “You look handsome tonight. Did your
mamm
make that new shirt for you?”

Ezra grinned and said, “
Yah
. Thanks for the compliment. Now I can relax for the rest of the evening knowing everything's fine. There's nothing like arriving at a gathering and finding out your
mamm
forgot to sew a seam.”

“You're
mamm
wouldn't do that,” she chided. “She's among the best seamstresses in the community.”

“
Yah
, I was teasing.” Ezra whacked away at the weeds again before he looked up to say, “I heard there was another new family moving into the community. Have you met them?”

“No.” Lydia busied herself with a stubborn root.

“The oldest boy is around our age, I was told.” Ezra gave Lydia a quick glance. “His name's Clyde Helmuth. He's the boy right over there—the one with the pitchfork.”

Lydia looked toward where Ezra had motioned with his chin. There was indeed a new boy near the barn. She had been too
wrapped up in Ezra to notice. His straw hat cast shadows on his face, but he looked handsome enough.

“I imagine you girls will have him matched up with someone before long,” Ezra teased.

Lydia teased back by saying, “Maybe so. Maybe it'll be me. I seem to be available.” She gave the weeds in front of her another wallop.

“Surely you wouldn't fall for a strange man so quickly,” Ezra scolded.

“Maybe I would and maybe I wouldn't,” Lydia said. “And who knows. My cousin Sandra might fall for him.”

“Are you wishing she would?” Ezra's eyes twinkled. He was on to her now.

“
Yah
,” Lydia admitted. She knew she might as well say the truth. “That might help you make up your mind.”

Ezra grinned from ear to ear. “Maybe it would and maybe it wouldn't,” he teased back.

Ezra was still grinning when Rosemary returned with her new hoe. She gave them both a quick look and said, “Is something funny going on that you want to share with me?”

“No,” Ezra said, teasing again. “We thought maybe you got hung up talking with the new fellow over by the barn. Young and handsome Clyde Helmuth?”

Rosemary colored a little. “Clyde who?”

Ezra laughed. “I can go tell him you're available.”

“No need,” Rosemary snapped. “He already knows that. Clyde and I go way back. Our families have been friends for years…before his family moved here.”

Ezra's tone softened. “I didn't know that. Did something happen between the two of you?”

The look on Rosemary's face was enough of an answer, but she still said, “I used to date him, but we broke up.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Lydia reached over to give Rosemary a quick squeeze on the arm. “I had no idea.”

Rosemary shrugged. “Most people don't know. It was only for a few dates. Clyde felt like the relationship wasn't what he wanted.”

“There will be someone for you, I'm sure,” Ezra encouraged her.

“I can see why your heart is still attached to the man,” Lydia whispered to Rosemary, loud enough for Ezra to hear. “He's quite handsome.”

“
Yah
.” Rosemary bit her lip and attacked a thick weed with her hoe.

Ezra gathered up an armful of thornbushes and headed toward the garden where Sandra was working. Lydia tried to keep busy and not pay attention to what Ezra was doing. The burn pile was near the garden's edge, and Lydia was sure Ezra would stop to speak with Sandra.

Lydia turned her attention to Rosemary. “Is it hard for you, then? With Clyde now living right here in the community?”

“No, it's fine.” Rosemary put on a brave face. “I have to get over him, that's all. And I will. He and his
daett
just moved here after his
mamm
died. He's carrying a heavy load now.”

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” Lydia said.

Rosemary paused with her hoe in one hand. “And as for me, you or Ezra don't need to feel bad. It's not as though I want another chance with Clyde. That's clearly in the past.”

Lydia didn't respond, and the girls turned their attention to their work. Their tools rose and fell in unison as they attacked the thornbushes. The simple peace and camaraderie of their shared disappointments was comfort enough for the moment. But before long, both of them glanced toward the garden where Sandra and Ezra were engaged in a lively conversation.

“See what I mean?” Lydia muttered. “It's maddening.”

Rosemary choked back a laugh. “
Yah
, I see what you mean. So that's what you were muttering about earlier. I thought it was the weeds.”

“Maybe it
is
a weed,” Lydia said, but she knew it was the bitterness in her heart speaking. The truth was, she loved Ezra.

Chapter Two

T
he following Saturday evening, Lydia ran to the front window of the Troyers' living room and peeked through the drapes. A buggy had rolled into the drive a few moments earlier, and Lydia watched as the lengthy form of Deacon Schrock climbed out. The deacon tied his horse to the hitching post, but he made no move to go any farther. Rather, the deacon stood beside his horse with clasped hands. Lydia pulled back from the window. Did Bishop Henry already have the deacon busy on church work—even though he'd only recently arrived in the community? That was possible, but what anyone in the family could have done to provoke a visit from the deacon was beyond her. All of her older brothers and sisters were married. The deacon would visit their homes if there was a problem, and she certainly hadn't disobeyed the
ordnung
. Her younger sisters, Emma and Rhoda, were still in their
rumspringa
time. They would be gone for the evening in thirty minutes or so, but they weren't subject to the deacon's jurisdiction. Unless her sisters had brought embarrassment to the community. She should check with her sisters more often, Lydia told herself. Maybe the two were up to something that had aroused the community's concern. Everyone kept close tabs on the young people in the North Country.

Rumspringa
in St. Lawrence County wasn't quite the loose affair it was in other Amish communities. All of the families had made sacrifices to move this far upstate in New York, and they didn't want the problems from the old community to follow them. Lydia hesitated but looked past the drapes again.
Daett
had just come out of the barn. She watched as he walked up to the buggy and shook hands with Deacon Schrock. The two were soon deep in conversation. Did Deacon Schrock want something with
Daett
after all?

Lydia ducked behind the drapes again. Come to think of it,
Daett
had seemed distracted lately and so had
Mamm
. But what could
Daett
have done wrong? Lydia peeked out and saw
Daett
and Deacon Schrock still talking beside the buggy. The deacon's visit must have involved some other member of the family. She dropped the drape's edge from her fingertips and walked toward the kitchen, where Emma and Rhoda were busy at work with supper preparations. Neither of them looked up—which wasn't necessarily a sign of innocence. Her sisters always rushed through the supper preparations on a Saturday night so they could leave sooner for their weekend's taste of the world's freedom.

“What have you two been up to?” Lydia demanded. “The deacon's here.”

The girls acted as if they hadn't heard. Emma hummed a worldly tune she must have learned from her
Englisha
friends. If
Mamm
had been in the kitchen, Emma would have quit this nonsense at once. But Lydia was too soon out of her own
rumspringa
to complain about an
Englisha
tune being hummed. At least she'd had the decency not to bring anything from the world into the house.

Lydia sighed and glanced toward the living room window again. Maybe one of her sisters had hidden a radio upstairs and had let the fact slip at the Sunday evening hymn singing. That could provoke a visit from the deacon. There would be no discipline for her sisters,
but
Mamm
and
Daett
's reputation would suffer if they failed to keep control of their children's
rumspringa
time. The parents were expected to draw the lines clearly between the world and their home. Nothing but trouble would come from such a situation, and trouble was something Lydia didn't need right now. Everything needed to be in order at the Troyer's house so Ezra Wagler would have no excuse to choose Cousin Sandra over her. After all, Ezra came from a well-thought-of family, and his parents would see to it that Ezra chose a
frau
who would uphold the family's tradition as faithful Amish church members.