The four of them laughed loudly as Clyde made a wide turn and started down the snow-covered hill. “Nope,” Christine said. “I’m happy to leave the leadership of this district to you and the preachers, Monroe.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Chapter Four
Monroe felt years younger as he pulled the sleigh up to the lodge to let Rosetta, Truman, and Christine go inside. It had taken something out of him to recount the details of Linda’s passing, because only his closest friends in Macomb knew what had happened.
But now he felt free. His budding relationship with Christine wouldn’t change what had happened in his past—and he would never forget Linda, just as Willis Hershberger would always be a part of Christine’s life. But her empathy had unlocked a dark room in his heart so the sadness could drift away on the wings of angels.
As Monroe returned the sleigh to Amos’s barn, he whistled under his breath. When he realized how light-hearted “You Are My Sunshine” made him feel, he thanked God for the wonderful hilltop experience he’d shared with Christine. The memory of her kiss warmed him all over again. Monroe had other important aspects of his life in Macomb to share with her, but they could wait. And he knew she would understand.
He jogged across the lawn and up the lodge stairs to the porch, energized by the crisp winter air and the dazzling beauty of the sunlit snow. When Monroe went inside, he stood in awe of the two-story lobby with its huge chandelier made of antlers and the stone fireplace that crackled with a cheerful fire. The dining room was still filled with guests who were talking and laughing, intending to spend the remainder of the day celebrating Amos and Mattie’s wedding.
Monroe hung his long black coat on a crammed rack near the wall and placed his broad-brimmed black Stetson on top of the rack. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sound of friendly voices telling stories he would probably hear again as he became close to the folks in this district. Monroe looked forward to the day when he would be settled into his new home and established here as the shepherd of this lively, unpredictable flock.
When he spotted Amos and Mattie, he made his way between the crowded tables, smiling as folks greeted him and shook his hand. Rosetta was bringing out a tray of desserts and setting it on the eck table while Christine poured coffee into four mugs. The slices of pie and cake she’d chosen enticed him, but he had business he wanted to settle before he ate dessert.
“Decided you liked our company after all?” Amos teased him with a raised eyebrow. The preacher was a sturdy, compactly built fellow of fifty, with a trimmed beard that sported some silver. “Mattie and I wondered where you made off to—until we realized that the rest of the wedding party had disappeared, as well.”
Monroe smiled. He still detected an edge to Preacher Amos’s voice, so he put his best words forward. “I went to investigate the other end of the property—the section you told me was available,” he clarified, smiling at Mattie. “And I have to thank you for saving the best parcel of land for me, Amos. Whenever you’re ready, let’s figure the boundaries and the acreage and I’ll pay you in cash, so we’re settled up.”
Mattie’s brow furrowed. “We still have several parcels of land open, Monroe,” she murmured with a questioning glance at her new husband. “Which area have you chosen?”
Amos shifted, holding Monroe’s gaze. “I merely pointed him toward property at the far end of our holdings—”
“Land that would be harder for folks to build homes on because of the hills and valleys and woods,” Truman pointed out as he and Rosetta joined the conversation. “But it would do for pastureland for his Clydesdales, after he puts down some fertilizer and seed. I’ll conduct some soil tests so you’ll know where you’ll need to apply some lime, Monroe, and I’ll be happy to do the seeding, as well,” he added. “It’s the least I can do for your consideration of our upcoming marriage.”
Mattie’s eyes widened. “Does this mean you’re allowing them to marry, Bishop?” she asked excitedly.
“Jah, I am, if our preachers agree to it,” Monroe replied, smiling at Truman and Rosetta. “After discussing their situation and their firm faith in God, I’ve agreed to perform their ceremony. But I don’t believe interfaith marriage is right for every couple—especially for younger folks who might just be looking to jump the fence. We should establish our official policy about this when we meet next, don’t you think, Amos?”
“We will,” the preacher agreed. “And it would be a gut idea to get a clearer picture of you when we meet, as well, Bishop.”
Monroe noticed Mattie, Rosetta, and Truman’s puzzled expressions, and his gut tightened in anticipation. He’d figured on approaching this subject with Eli, Marlin, and Amos when they met, but he sensed Amos was pushing for answers now. “What would you like to know?” he asked.
The preacher stood straighter, as though he’d been waiting for this opportunity. “You’ve been here more than a week, yet we’ve heard nothing of the community you were leading before you showed up here out of the blue on Christmas Eve.”
Monroe heard more than one question embedded in Amos’s remark, but he stuck with the most obvious. “I was the bishop in a district near Macomb, Illinois. We were outgrowing ourselves, far as how many families a bishop and two preachers can serve—and I’d reached a point where I felt a fresh start would be beneficial, after mourning my wife for nearly a year.”
“So you up and left?” Amos asked with a frown. “If your district was splitting into two, those folks would be needing an additional bishop rather than wanting to let one go.”
Monroe nodded, treading carefully. “We ordained our two preachers as new bishops,” he explained. “Each district ordained two new preachers, with the understanding—their blessing—that I was moving on. It was all very amicable.”
Mattie looked puzzled again. “Amos, are you having doubts about Monroe?” she asked quietly. “If that’s the case, you should’ve asked your questions before—”
“Before Bishop Floyd proclaimed him our new leader?” Amos countered. He was speaking quietly, but the folks around them stopped talking to follow the conversation. “Everyone else seemed overjoyed that Burkholder showed up when he did, as though God had moved him into place just when we needed him. And jah, I’m glad he could marry us while Allen and my girls are here,” he added, shrugging. “It just seems odd that he appeared without contacting us first—and on Christmas Eve, the holiest night of the year, when most folks are surrounded by family and friends to celebrate our Lord’s birth.”
Amos’s suspicion whispered like the steps of a spider spotting a fly in its web. Monroe had been astounded that he’d unknowingly arrived after Bishop Floyd had become incapacitated—and he’d expected a lot more questions from the folks at Promise Lodge. Troyer was apparently the only one who’d noticed the lack of details Monroe had offered, perhaps because he’d arrived while everyone was enjoying dessert after the scholars’ Christmas Eve program.
“This looks like quite a serious discussion, considering we’re at a wedding celebration. Our coffee and desserts are ready,” Christine said as she joined their circle.
Monroe smiled at her, for she’d probably been another reason no one had asked him a lot of questions. The moment he’d set foot in the Promise Lodge lobby, Christine and her sisters had welcomed him and introduced him to everyone, obviously delighted that he’d come—and his flare of attraction to Christine had felt mutual.
“I’d intended to arrive a few days earlier,” he said, returning his focus to Amos, “but I got waylaid by a buggy repair near Kirksville, and the snow slowed me down. Truth be told, I wasn’t eager to spend another Christmas alone, because with my uncle and aunt and wife all gone—”
“You could’ve celebrated with members of your church,” Amos interrupted.
Monroe prayed for patience. Troyer was splitting hairs now. “Jah, and I had several invitations,” he said, “but everyone knew why I was leaving. They’d read the ads for Promise Lodge in the Budget, and we’
d prayed over it, and they wished me well as I came to Missouri to see if this place would be a gut fit for me and my horse business.” He paused, wondering what would convince Amos that he was sincere. “If it would make you feel better, you can contact Ralph Byler or Marion Yoder—the bishops who’re leading the Macomb districts now. I’ll give you their phone numbers—”
“No need for that, Bishop Monroe,” Mattie said emphatically. She tucked her arm through Amos’s. “This is a day for celebrating the wonderful-gut gifts God has bestowed upon us, and you are one of them. We’re pleased you’ve chosen your home place—another reason to celebrate,” she added as her sisters nodded their agreement. “You’ve got coffee and dessert waiting for you, and I see the Peterscheim boys eyeing your pie!”
Monroe pointed a teasing finger at Lavern and Johnny, laughing along with everyone—except for Amos, who merely gazed at Mattie. Monroe was more grateful to Mattie than she would ever know for bringing the discussion about his past and his motives to an end. For now.
If Amos called Ralph or Marion, they might mention another compelling reason that Monroe had left Macomb—which would inspire an even tougher inquisition from Amos.
Monroe decided to cross that bridge if he came to it. Christine’s green eyes implored him to spend time with her, and Rosetta’s smile beckoned him to join her and Truman for the dessert they’d delayed. There was a time and a place for everything, and he was ready to enjoy pie and the company of folks who accepted him for who he was.
“Wow, how am I supposed to choose from all these different kinds of pie? And chocolate cake, too?” he asked as he held out a chair for Christine. He was glad when Truman pulled chairs over to the other side of the table so he and Rosetta would be facing them.
“Pick what you’d like, and then I’ll choose,” Christine suggested. “I suspect Truman and my sister have already had their dessert—”
“Not that I won’t take another slice of pie,” Truman said with a laugh. “I can tell you that Ruby’s chocolate cake is fabulous. And you can’t find a bad piece of any pie Beulah makes—and Rosetta made the lemon meringue, the apple, and the rhubarb pies.”
Monroe folded his hands on the table. “You choose first, Christine,” he murmured. “I suspect you made some of these pies, as well.”
Her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink as she took the slice of rhubarb pie and a piece of chocolate cake. “I made the pecan, the raisin, and the cherry pies. Rosetta and I were ecstatic that Amos and Mattie wanted their wedding so quickly, so we’ve been busy bees in the kitchen these past few days.”
Monroe chose a slice of raisin pie and a slice of lemon meringue. “Doesn’t get any better than this,” he said as he picked up a fork. “I appreciate you ladies thinking to save back my favorite kinds.” He smiled as Roman Schwartz and Mary Kate Lehman approached the table with baby David in a basket between them. “You kids can join us for pie, as well. Plenty here for everyone.”
Roman was a tall, slender blond in his mid-twenties, Monroe was guessing. The tight expression on Mary Kate’s pretty face told him they were interested in something more serious than dessert.
“We—we were hoping you’d agree to perform our wedding in a few weeks, Bishop Monroe,” Roman said a little nervously. “Preacher Eli and Preacher Amos have already begun our premarriage counseling sessions—”
“I’ll be delighted to marry you,” Monroe said as he stood to shake Roman’s hand. “When I heard the details of David’s conception, I was pleased that the two of you have found each other and plan to become a family. Do you have a date in mind?”
Mary Kate looked up at Roman with a shy smile. “We were thinking about Thursday the twenty-sixth, but we’ve not done the traditional thing and had our wedding published at church, so maybe you’d rather we waited until—”
Monroe squeezed her shoulder and caressed David’s plump cheek as he wiggled in his basket. “We can take care of that little detail right here and now,” he said. He clanged a knife handle against a water glass until everyone in the room got quiet and turned expectantly toward their table.
“Folks, I have the pleasure of announcing that Roman Schwartz and Mary Kate Lehman will be married three weeks from today,” Monroe said loudly. “I’m proud that this colony has provided a haven for Mary Kate and a place for her son to become a welcome member of the Promise Lodge community of faith.”
Applause filled the dining room. As folks congratulated the young couple, Frances Lehman made her way through the crowd to stand beside Monroe. Tears made her soft brown eyes shine as she took his hand. “Oh, this is the best news, Bishop Monroe,” she said with a hitch in her voice. “We’re all so glad that Floyd immediately recognized you as the bishop Promise Lodge needed. I’m grateful to God that Mary Kate has found Roman and has a nice new house to share with him as they raise David together. He’s a fine young man—”
“And my son couldn’t have found a sweeter, more loving wife than your Mary Kate,” Mattie insisted as she slipped her arm around Frances’s shoulders. “It’s all gut, Monroe. See what wondrous things God hath wrought by bringing you to us?”
As Monroe gazed at the mothers’ smiles, and at the young couple accepting congratulations, and at Rosetta and Truman—and Christine—he believed with all his heart that God had led him to Promise Lodge for a lot of wonderful reasons. He’d come here from Macomb to pursue his future, not just to leave his past behind, and it felt good to bask in the glow on these people’s faces.
Chapter Five
Rosetta hugged Bernice and her twin, Barbara, as they all stood in the lobby of the lodge on Monday morning. “I’m so glad you and your hubbies and Allen came to visit your dat, and then stayed for his wedding,” she said, smiling at Sam and Simon Helmuth. “Have a safe trip home. We’ll look forward to seeing your houses and your nursery buildings being built when the weather’s warmer.”
Redheaded Sam—or was it Simon?—nodded happily as he put on his hat. “This worked out unbelievably well, Rosetta. When we called to tell my parents we were moving to Missouri, they were sad—”
“But in the next breath,” his twin put in, “Dat said he’d provide a bunch of starter stock for our new nursery. He’ll be putting a couple of our younger brothers in charge of the garden center we’re leaving behind, so—truth be told—we’ve opened the door for those fellows to earn better livings.”
Rosetta turned to Allen Troyer then. He appeared a little doubtful, but she hugged him anyway. “Your dat is so pleased that you’ll be living here, too, Allen,” she insisted. “Gut luck taking your licensing exams.”
Allen buttoned his coat, smiling at his sisters. “We’ll have lots of time during the ride home for the girls to play teacher,” he remarked wryly. “Buddies from my plumbing and electricity classes mailed me some sample tests, so Barbara and Bernice will be sure all that information’s drilled into my head. Nice to know I’ll have work when I get here, too.”
Christine came out of the kitchen and hugged the five young people, as well. “You’ll all be able to stay in cabins while your homes are built,” she reminded them. “If it’s still chilly, we’ll have space heaters for you.”
Allen nodded. “I might be bunking in a cabin for quite a while, as I don’t see the need for a house just yet.”
Rosetta and her sister exchanged a knowing smile. “Something tells me Gloria Lehman would like to give you reason to build one,” she teased.
With a roll of his eyes, Allen headed for the door. “Do not encourage that girl,” he insisted. “I’ve told her again and again that I’m broke and in no hurry to join the church, but she doesn’t seem to hear that.”
Rosetta chuckled as the five young people went out onto the porch. She waved at the English lady driver who’d pulled her van up beside the lodge, and then she closed the door. “From what I could see during Amos and Mattie’s wedding, Gloria’s got her heart set on Allen,” she said as Christine walked to the kitchen with her.
“Why w
ouldn’t she?” Christine asked. “Allen’s a handsome young man, and I suspect his rebellious attitude attracts the attention of a lot of girls.”
“Now that Mary Kate’s marrying Roman, I’m guessing Gloria feels like a hopeless maidel because she’s five years older than her sister,” Rosetta said as she opened the refrigerator.
“She’s what—twenty-two?” Christine began pulling baking pans from the cupboard.
“Jah, or twenty-three,” Rosetta mused aloud. “As I recall, you were married and had two little girls by the time you were that age. And Mattie had both of her boys in her early twenties. Gloria feels the clock ticking—and we don’t have all that many eligible fellows here.”
Christine placed a fist on her hip. “Only takes one man—the right man—and a certain gal I know didn’t meet her perfect mate until she was thirty-seven,” she pointed out. “So Gloria’s not out of time yet—and congratulations again, Rosetta. I’m so glad Monroe has agreed that you and Truman can marry.”
Rosetta raised her eyebrows as she opened a carton of eggs. “Why do I have a feeling I’m not the only Bender sister who might be tying the knot soon? You and Monroe seem pretty chummy. Downright kissy.”
“Puh! I’ve seen you and Truman kissing plenty of times,” Christine shot back. “Our parents would’ve been lecturing us about such public displays,” she added with a wry smile, “but I have to admit that it feels gut to have a man hold me again. A lot of bishops would be sterner—more inclined to follow the old conservative ways that favor the men—but Monroe has an open mind. I like that about him.”
Rosetta laughed. “You like a lot of things about him, sister. What did you two talk about up there on the hill?”
Christine poured a bag of cranberries into a saucepan and added a box of chopped dates and water. “None of your beeswax,” she teased. “But I’m looking forward to seeing big red barns and Clydesdales grazing in Monroe’s pastures. Amos might not realize it, but from up on that hill, the bishop will be able to watch over almost our whole community. I still don’t understand why Amos has such a chip on his shoulder about Monroe.”
Weddings at Promise Lodge Page 4
