A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series) (24 page)

“There was more?”

Grace trudged ahead and flopped on the front porch steps. “I knew you didn’t hear me. I told you all about Adam Lapp and how he keeps following us around. Not following us, exactly, but popping up at odd times. And that’s not all. One minute he’ll be nice to me, and the next minute I’ll ask him something and he’ll ignore me completely. I don’t know what to make of it.”

Something in his daughter’s voice caught his attention, his complete attention, and for a moment he forgot everything but the little person right in front of him.

“How old are you?”


Dat
.” Grace began to giggle, and then she fell over on to her back, staring up at the porch ceiling. “I’m nine—”

The word stretched out between them.

He sat on the porch next to her. On impulse he lay back too, staring up at the unpainted wood boards of the porch roof. A few cobwebs were in one corner, and a mud dauber’s nest from last summer was in the other. “I remember nine.”

“Must have been a long time ago.”


Ya
, but nine isn’t something you forget.”

“Really?”

“Sure. It’s the last of your single digit years. It’s important.”

A bee buzzed over them before flying off in search of sweeter pickings.

“This Adam, he used to bother you when we first moved here.”

“True, but that was a long time ago, way back before our first Christmas. Since then we became
freinden
. Now he acts a little strange. I don’t know what to make of it.”

Something in Gabe’s heart twisted, and he thought of Hope. He closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of the old porch boards, and recalled her sweet face, how much he had loved her. He adored Miriam and was grateful for his new life, but how he wished that Hope could have had this talk with Grace.

Pulling in a deep breath, he began the conversation he most certainly wasn’t ready to have.

“You know that boys and girls sometimes feel sweet on each other.”

Grace popped up and placed a hand on his chest, right where the pain had been a moment earlier. She stared down into his face, her brown eyes wide and serious.

“I’m a kid,
dat
. I’m
nine
.”


Ya
. True. But even at your age—”

“Adam’s a year older.”

“Oh.”

“Double digit.” Grace lay back down, but this time she twined the fingers of her left hand with his right.

“Right. Well, that’s probably the age boys start thinking how pretty young girls are. Maybe Adam is confused by his feelings.”

Silence stretched between them. Gabe heard Gus braying out in the pasture, followed by the sound of Chance neighing in response. The rhythms and sounds of farm life had a soothing effect on his father’s heart.

As did the rapidly changing moods of his daughter.

“I guess I’ll go see Hunter now.” Grace jumped up, dusted off her dress and hopped down the steps. Humming to herself, she stacked her lunch pail and books. Gone were her worries, or so it seemed. She turned away from him without another word.

“Don’t forget your chores,” he called after her.

She never even slowed down, only waved as she skipped toward the barn.

He stood and stretched, which was when he saw Belle pulling Miriam’s buggy down the lane. His heart skipped in the same way Grace had, and he realized he’d been more than a little worried. But she was home now. Everything was fine with his family.

Or so he thought, until he reached the buggy and saw the expression on his
fraa
’s face. If he had to put a name to it, he would say it was exhaustion wrapped in fear.

Chapter 20

G
race had never been shy about her drawing.

She’d actually never thought about others’ opinions of what she did that much. Drawing what she saw, what caught her eye, was something she loved doing when her chores were done, when school was out, and when her baby sister was asleep. Why would she be shy about it?

Her
dat
wasn’t bashful about his farming. Her
mamm
wasn’t timid about proclaiming the newest thing Rachel had done, but neither did it seem as though she was boasting. Rachel was the most beautiful thing Grace had ever seen.
Mammi
wasn’t shy about her quilting. She said
Gotte
expected everyone to use their gifts.

So when her
mamm
brought up the subject of her drawing at breakfast Saturday morning, Grace wasn’t quite sure what to think about it.

“I want to take you over to the cabins today, Grace. Lydia and Aaron would like you to draw a picture for them—a picture they can put on postcards.”

“They said so?”

“Yes. When your
mammi
and I stopped by earlier in the week. I told them you couldn’t do it before today because of school.”

Grace glanced at Sadie, who shrugged and reached for her glass
of milk. They’d had a lot of fun the night before, playing ball with Hunter, making new furniture for Stanley’s box, and taking her cat, Stormy, into the barn and watching him chase mice.

“Can Sadie go?”

“Sadie’s
mamm
said to have her home before ten. I believe she has chores.”

Sadie nodded, her milk mustache causing Grace to dissolve into giggles.

“Seems to me you need some Danish muffins to go with that milk,” Gabe said, passing her the plate of warm sweet bread.

“I have chores too.”

“I’ll take care of those today, Gracie.” Gabe broke a muffin in half and slipped a pat of butter on one side. He aimed for more, but Miriam moved the dish out of his reach.

“Aaron and Lydia need your help.” Miriam refilled Gabe’s
kaffi
cup, and then she walked out of the room to tend to Rachel, who was letting the whole world know she was awake.

“They need my help drawing?” No one had ever
asked
her to draw before.

“Seems so.” Her
dat
smiled and reached for more butter before her
mamm
returned.

“I don’t understand why they want me to draw a picture for their postcards,” Grace said. They had dropped Sadie off at her home and were almost at the cabins.

“They need to advertise, and the best way to convince people to spend a night there would be with a picture.”

“A picture I’m supposed to draw?”

Miriam smiled and patted her hand. “Lydia and Aaron have seen your drawing. They think it’s very
gut
.”

“They could hire someone.”

“Yes, but that would cost more money, and they’re trying to save money to help Elizabeth and her girls.”

“Because the girls’
dat
died.”

“Yes.”

“Like my
mamm
—my first
mamm
.”

“Yes.”

Grace considered that a moment, as Belle trotted down the road. She certainly wanted to help however she could. She was only nine, so it was a little surprising that anyone thought she could help.

“Do I know Elizabeth or her
dochdern
?”

“You might have seen the family in town or at one of the benefit auctions, but they go to the church on the west side of the district.”

“Bishop Atlee’s church.”

“Correct.”

Grace reached down and handed Rachel one of her baby toys, one of the rattles Rae had given them. They were curious toys, but Rachel seemed to like them. This one was soft and quilted with a pig’s head. The pig was smiling and had a pink polka dot body. Rachel shook it twice, attempted to put it in her mouth, and dropped it.

“Of course I’ll help, but I’m not sure what they want.”

“Aaron will tell you.” Miriam reached over and patted her knee. “I think you’re going to be surprised when you see the cabins.”

“Has he cut down more bushes?” Grace frowned. She had rather liked the overgrown look.

“Everyone’s worked hard all week. Even your
mammi
has become involved.”

“How—”

“It’s a long story.”

“I thought she was sick.”


Ya
. But there’s no stopping my mother when she sets her mind to something—”


Mamm
.” Grace sat up straighter in her seat as they neared the parking area of the cabins, trying to see over Belle’s ears, which were ridiculously tall.

“Hmm?”

“There are
Englisch
cars here.”

“Of course there are cars. The idea is to rent the cabins, and they’re usually rented to
Englischers
who drive cars.”

“But there are four of them. Have they rented out four of the cabins?”

“They have now, and they hope with your drawing and the postcards they’ll be mailing that they’ll soon rent out all of them.”

Grace was more than a little surprised at all of the changes. The office didn’t even look like the same place. It looked like a real store! Shelves lined one wall and were filled with all types of baskets, assorted jams and jellies, packages of homemade noodles, and baked goods from Lydia’s mother. There were also Amish dresses and
kapps
for young girls and babies. Why would
Englischers
want to buy those?

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