Authors: Marta Perry
He shrugged. “I spent eighteen years being Amish and twelve years trying to be English.
For the past few months I’ve been walking a tightrope between the two because of my
family. So no, it’s not simple.”
“I guess it wouldn’t be.” For once, her barricades were down, the real Chloe showing
in those clear eyes. “I felt as if I’d strayed into a foreign country today. I’m glad
I had you here as translator.”
“Anytime.” He tried for a lightness he didn’t feel.
She glanced at her watch. “I’d best get on the road. Thanks again.” She reached for
the handle.
Seth got out quickly. He walked with her to her car and closed the door once she was
in. She started the engine and then pressed the button to lower the window.
“You never did tell me the story of why you left the Amish,” she said.
“Next time.”
Chloe raised her eyebrows. “Are you so sure there’s going to be a next time?”
“Yes.” He spoke firmly. “I’m sure. You’ll come back.”
But after she’d pulled away, he stood watching her car until it disappeared from view.
He’d like to be confident she’d come back. For Lydia’s sake, he told himself. Not
his.
* * *
Adam
glanced at Lydia as Ben’s car approached their lane. She had been quiet during the
ride home, too quiet. Something was bothering her, and it might be best to bring it
into the open before they reached the house.
“Just drop us at the end of the lane, Ben. A little walk will feel gut after all the
sitting.”
“Sure thing.” Ben drew up to the lane and stopped. “It’s my pleasure to drive you
folks anytime. Just give me a call.”
“Denke, Ben. We are grateful.” Adam handed over the money he had ready in his hand
as he got out. Even so, Lydia had already slid out the other side before he could
reach her.
“Denke, Ben,” she murmured, and set off rapidly down the lane.
Adam repeated his thanks and hurried after her. Goodness only knew what Ben must be
thinking about all these sudden trips to Oyersburg.
Adam caught up with Lydia in a few strides and fell into step with her. She was walking
faster than she usually did, and he was reminded of a teakettle getting ready to steam.
“Was ist letz?”
“What’s wrong?” She stopped and spun to face him, her eyes flashing. “I should be
asking that question of you. What was wrong with you, that you sat all through lunch
and didn’t say a word?”
He took a firm hold on his temper, but a little slipped anyway. “Maybe I didn’t have
anything to say. It seemed to me that you and Seth were talking enough for all of
us.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said that about him. Why are you so down on Seth? He
was just trying to help me make Chloe feel wilkom.”
“Well, then, you and he did a fine job.” Adam didn’t like the bitterness in his tone,
but he couldn’t seem to get rid of it.
“How could Chloe feel wilkom with you sitting there looking disapproving the whole
time?” Angry tears sparkled in her eyes, making him feel guilty. He had never thought
he’d make his Lydia cry.
“Ach, Lydia, don’t be so upset. I wasn’t trying to be disapproving, just cautious.”
“I doubt that Chloe could tell the difference.” Her voice was still tart, but the
tears didn’t spill over. “And what is there to be cautious about anyway?”
He paused. Lydia ought to know why he felt the way he did, after he’d told her the
hard truth about his brother. But it seemed she’d forgotten in her excitement over
this newly found sister.
“I think one of us should be wary,” he said. “Chloe is a stranger, and Englisch besides.”
“And she is my sister,” Lydia added. “Just because your brother—”
She stopped abruptly, putting her fingers to her lips, her eyes wide with dismay.
He stiffened, feeling as if she’d struck him. Didn’t she realize how much it had cost
him to tell her about his brother? It seemed not.
“I have gut reason to be worried about Englisch influence on my family. I have already
seen what it can do.” His throat was so tight he knew he couldn’t talk about this
any longer. “I’m going to the barn,” he said shortly, and stalked off away from her.
Well, she’d already moved away from him, hadn’t she? He felt as if Lydia was on the
far side of a swift-flowing stream, and he didn’t have the slightest idea how to reach
her.
As he neared the barn, he realized that his father-in-law’s wagon was drawn up by
the door. He hurried his steps. Had Joseph come to pick up Anna already?
He stepped into the barn, empty and shadowed at this time of day with the horses and
the milk cow turned out in the pasture. “Joseph?” His voice echoed.
“Ja, I’m up here.” Joseph’s voice sounded from above him.
Adam looked up to see his father-in-law in the loft. The boys popped up, one on either
side of him.
“Look, Daadi, we’re helping Grossdaadi with the hay,” David said.
Adam smiled, his tension subsiding. “It looks like you’ve been rolling in it, as much
as you have sticking to your clothes.”
David looked down at his black pants and began vigorously brushing them off. “We were
moving bales. Daniel and I moved one all by our own selves.”
“Gut job.” He looked an inquiry at Joseph.
“I brought a few more bales of hay over,” his father-in-law explained. “I was chust
making some space by the window. You want to climb in the wagon and toss them up to
me?”
“Ja, denke.” Joseph provided most of the hay they needed, since they didn’t have much
to cut themselves.
Adam hung his coat on a peg and went back outside, clambering into the back of the
wagon. Joseph was generous with the hay, refusing to accept money, of course, but
they paid him back in fruit.
The hay window swung open, and Joseph shooed both of the boys away from the opening,
being safe about the drop to the ground. Adam tossed the first bale up, Joseph caught
it, and they were soon working in rhythm.
This was what he needed—a little physical labor to clear away the tension of the day.
Maybe it would sweep all thoughts of Seth and Chloe from his mind.
Working together, he and Joseph soon had all the bales into the loft. Adam went inside
and climbed the ladder to do the stacking.
Joseph glanced at his face and gave a satisfied nod. “You boys go outside now.” He
nudged Daniel and David toward the ladder. “There’s not room up here for four.”
David looked a bit mutinous, but Daniel nodded and shepherded his little brother down
the ladder to the lower level and out of the barn.
Adam kept his face turned away from Joseph’s curious gaze. It was certain-sure that
Joseph had noticed something, but maybe he wouldn’t speak.
“So, how did it go with little Chloe? She must have been happy to see her sister,
ain’t so?”
It was natural enough for Joseph to want to hear about their visit. Chloe was his
niece, too, his brother’s child. “I think she was glad enough to meet Lydia,” he answered
carefully. “It seemed she doesn’t know what to make of the Amish, though. She was
a bit stiff in her manner, I thought.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Joseph said. He stacked bales easily. A powerful man
in the prime of life, he’d reject any suggestion that Adam take care of this job alone.
“No?” He’d like to hear Joseph’s view of the situation, Adam realized.
Joseph frowned, not stopping his work. “From the few things Diane said about her mother,
it seemed the woman would never forgive her for marrying Eli. Diane sent her notes
when the boppli were born, I heard, but she never responded.”
“She knew enough about the family to grab Chloe after the accident.” Adam swung the
final bale into place. “I’m thinking she stuffed the girl’s head full of nonsense
about the Amish and how we live.”
“Ach, now that Chloe has met our Lydia, she’ll soon see how wrong that is, ja? Nobody
could be kinder than Lydia.”
Adam nodded, wondering if Joseph would say that if he’d seen Lydia’s display of temper.
But that was for him and Lydia to work out, nobody else.
“Getting the two of them together is a beginning, anyway,” Joseph said. He turned
and swung easily down the ladder.
Adam followed him. “Ja, it is.” A beginning he’d be just as happy to see over and
done with. “She said she would write to Lydia.”
“Lydia will be running to the mailbox every day, then.” Joseph’s ruddy face split
in a smile. “I’d like to see for myself how that sweet baby turned out. Maybe she’ll
come for a visit one day.”
“Maybe.” Adam kept his tone noncommittal.
“We ought to get on our way home, but I’d guess Anna and Lydia are still in there
talking.” Joseph hesitated. “I hope they are, for sure.”
“Ja, I do, too.” The gap between Lydia and her mother had been painful to watch.
Adam followed his father-in-law out of the barn, and they turned toward the house.
Painful to watch, ja. And the one between Lydia and him was even more painful still,
and he didn’t know how to fix it.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN
L
ydia
hurried into the house after she left Adam, to be met by the aroma of baking. Her
mother was pulling a cherry pie from the oven. She set it on the cooling rack beside
the one she’d obviously just taken out, the dark red cherries bubbling up through
the leaf-shaped vents she’d cut in the top crust.
“Ach, Mamm, you didn’t need to bake, as well. You had your hands full watching the
boys.” Lydia gave her a quick hug, inhaling the comforting aroma.
“As if those two sweet boys take much watching,” Mamm said. “You’ll know I’m ready
for pasture if I can’t bake and watch kinder at the same time. Anyway, they are out
at the barn with your daad.”
“I hope at least you used our canned cherries instead of bringing your own.” Lydia
removed her bonnet and hung it on the peg near the door. If she kept the talk on simple
things, maybe she could keep Mamm from seeing how upset she was, though Mamm always
seemed to know what she didn’t say.
Of course, she was the same way with Daniel and David. Maybe a mother never outgrew
that sixth sense where her children were concerned.
“Ja, I did use yours,” Mamm said, “but only because I forgot to bring mine. Your trees
certain-sure produced plenty of cherries last year.”
“I hope they’ll do as well this year.” She glanced through the window toward the orchard
as she spoke, where the four cherry trees were clustered together at one end. “We
talked about putting some more cherry trees in this spring, but we didn’t get it done.
Those trees are getting pretty old, ain’t so?”
“Ja, I guess.” Mamm poured coffee and carried it to the table without troubling to
ask. “Seems to me they were put in after the apple trees were, but often cherry trees
don’t last as long.” She pulled out two chairs. “Now sit, and tell me what has you
troubled.”
Lydia was surprised into a smile. “I should know I can’t hide how I’m feeling from
you.”
“Was there trouble with Chloe? She came, didn’t she?” The lines around Mamm’s blue
eyes deepened.
“She was there.” Lydia sat down next to her mother and took a sip of coffee, its warmth
seeming to ease the tightness in her throat. “You should see her, Mamm. So pretty,
like a picture in a magazine.” She hesitated. “So . . . Englisch.”
“Ach, well, it’s to be expected.” Mamm was practical, as always. “Her grandmother
had the raising of her, after all, and she didn’t have much sympathy for Amish ways,
from what I know.”
“I should have been prepared. But when I saw her there with Seth, I felt as if I were
looking at a stranger. Somehow I thought I’d know her in my heart.” She put her palm
against her chest and blinked away a tear.
“You do, really,” her mother said. “It just maybe will take some getting used to.”
She nodded. “I’m being silly, I guess. There were gut moments. She was interested
in the boys, and she asked questions about our birth mother. And then, just at the
end, when I was thinking she was eager to leave, she hugged me.” Another tear spilled
over as she relived that moment.
“You see?” Mamm said. “It will be all right.”
“That touched my heart. I did feel, then, as if we truly were sisters. But when I
asked if she’d come here to visit, she didn’t want to.”
Mamm patted her shoulder. “I’m sorry if it wasn’t all you hoped, but it seems to me
things went fairly well from what you say, for a first visit.”
“But why doesn’t she want to come here? That’s what I don’t understand. Unless it’s
because Adam scared her off.” Her annoyance with him dried her tears and flushed her
cheeks.
“It is hard to imagine our Adam scaring anyone,” Mamm said, her voice mild.
“Well, maybe it wasn’t that bad, but he just sat there, hardly saying a word the whole
time. It would be no wonder if Chloe felt he wouldn’t welcome her to our home.”
“She probably just thought he was shy,” Mamm said. “I’m sure you and Seth kept the
talk going, ain’t so?”
It was hard to hold on to a grudge in the face of Mamm’s common sense. “You always
stand up for Adam,” she said in mock complaint, a smile escaping. “Anyone would think
he was your child instead of me.”
“I confess we’ve always been partial to Adam. Your daad and I were glad when you picked
him. For a time we feared it would be Seth who won your heart.”
She could only stare at her mother, dumbfounded. “Seth? Why would you think that?”
“All the girls were sweet on him, ja? Weren’t you?” Mamm stirred her coffee absently,
not looking at Lydia.
“He charmed all the girls, that’s why. Oh, me, too, a little, but never seriously.
You couldn’t be serious about Seth. Anyway, I always knew he’d leave. Or be unhappy.”
“You were wiser than we knew at that age.” Mamm stroked her hand lovingly. “Adam is
steady as a rock.”
“And just as immovable,” she said, her voice as tart as the pie cherries. “Even after
meeting Chloe, he is still telling me to be cautious with her, not to care too much.”
“Adam’s a gut man, but he is a man, after all. They don’t always understand a woman’s
heart. He should know that you aren’t one who could care just a little.”
“Ja, he should know that.” She felt a bit justified to hear Mamm speak so.
“But you should know something about him, too.” Mamm’s voice grew serious. “You love
him in part because he is so responsible, ja? And being responsible means he has to
be cautious for those he loves.”
“Ja, but just because his brother—” She stopped, swept by the sense that she was being
disloyal. She could not betray what Adam had told her about his brother.
“Ja, you told me about his grief for Benjamin,” Mamm said. “Poor Benj—a sweet boy,
but always crazy to try something new. His family is grieving still, and Adam more
than most, because he was the oldest and would feel responsible.”
“He does.” Her voice went husky as she relived Adam’s pain over his brother.
“There are times in every marriage when the two are like harnessed horses pulling
in different directions,” Mamm pointed out. “You and Adam have been blessed with few
troubles so far, but troubles are a test that can make a marriage stronger.”
Lydia studied her mother’s face, touched by the depth of feeling in her voice. “You
and Daad . . .” she said, and then thought she shouldn’t.
Mamm patted her hand. “Our first big trouble was the accident, and us only married
for less than a month. We went from planning our wedding visits to rushing to the
hospital to becoming parents.” She smiled, but tears glistened in her eyes.
“I’m sorry . . .” Lydia had never thought of it from that perspective.
“We never regretted that part of it, that’s certain-sure. But when we were going through
all of it, the burdens seemed too heavy to bear. Now I know that our marriage grew
so much stronger because of what happened.” Mamm paused, her gaze searching Lydia’s
face. “Just let God use finding your sisters to make you and Adam stronger together,
ja?”
Her mother’s words seemed to sink into Lydia’s heart. “I’ll try,” she whispered.
* * *
Mamm
and Daad stayed for supper, and Lydia managed to present a smiling face to the children.
But once her folks had gone home and the two boys were settled for the night, she
found she was reliving every minute of her visit with Chloe.
She ought to be dwelling on the positive, Lydia told herself. At least she and Chloe
had spent some time together. She bent to pick up a block that had missed the toy
box when the boys were cleaning up. And Chloe had said she’d write and send pictures.
Those were promising steps.
Just because Chloe didn’t feel ready to visit her here, on the farm where she’d been
born, didn’t mean she was shying away from their relationship. Maybe she thought it
would be too emotional, being in the house where their mamm and daad had lived.
Lydia walked into the kitchen, running her hand along the wooden cabinets that had
been installed long before the house came to her. Her father had built those cabinets,
Daad had told her once. Eli had been a skilled craftsman.
She took comfort in being here, in being able to touch things her parents had touched,
maybe even more so because she couldn’t remember. If Chloe wasn’t ready to face that,
she must be patient. It would happen, in God’s own time.
Please . . .
Lights reflected from the kitchen windows. Someone had just driven in the lane. Seth?
Lydia hurried to the back door. By the time she reached the porch, Seth had already
jumped from the car. He stopped at the bottom of the steps, looking up at her.
“Is something wrong?” A tiny fear shimmered along her nerves. “Is Chloe all right?”
“Sure, fine, as far as I know.” Seth shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to alarm
you by coming over so late. I won’t stay, but I thought you should know that Chloe
stopped to see Susanna after she left the restaurant.”
“What? She didn’t tell her, did she? Seth, you didn’t let her.”
“No, she didn’t say anything.” The corners of Seth’s lips lifted slightly. “Although
I don’t think I could stop Chloe if she wanted to do something.”
Lydia’s heartbeat returned to normal. “Ach, you scared me there for a moment. I suppose
she wanted to see Susanna.”
“I figured she wouldn’t leave Oyersburg without having a look at both her sisters,
so I made sure I went with her, just in case. It was all right. Susanna waited on
her, and they talked a bit about the shop. Chloe bought a couple of things.” He hesitated.
“Maybe you didn’t know this, but Susanna mentioned a hospice nurse when she was talking
to Mrs. Gaus. I guess her mother must be nearing the end.”
Lydia’s hands clenched. “It breaks my heart to think she’s losing her mamm without
her sisters. But I fear it would break hers to learn the truth about her parents now.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Seth propped one foot on the step, and Lydia realized how
tired he looked. Even Seth’s light charm couldn’t stand up to all he’d been through
lately.
“Denke, Seth. You have been so kind during all of this upheaval. Especially when I
know you have your own family to worry about.”
“Well, maybe it gives me a break to worry about yours for a change.” His attempt at
a smile wasn’t very successful. “You might feel a little disappointed about today,
but I think you made a lot of progress. It’s a big step for someone like Chloe, just
coming to meet you. So don’t give up hope, okay?”
“I won’t. Not ever.”
“Good night, Lydia.” He went to the car.
Lydia watched while he turned and drove back down the lane. Seth was doing far more
than she had any right to expect. Probably more than he’d ever thought possible a
few months ago, when he’d been back in his busy city life. Pleasant Valley was having
an effect on him.
She went back inside. Odd, that Adam hadn’t come out. He was in the workshop, so he
must have heard the car and known she was talking to Seth.
Lydia went to the workshop door, which stood ajar, and hesitated. She didn’t want
to get involved in another argument. But Mamm had been right—this business of her
sisters was coming between her and Adam. If a marriage didn’t grow stronger in time
of trouble, what did it do? Did it break? She pushed the door open and went into the
workshop.
Adam sat at his worktable, bending over the clock he was working on. He’d reached
the point of sanding the wood, which meant it was nearly finished, but Adam would
sand until the wood was smooth as butter. He was a perfectionist when it came to his
clocks.
“Seth stopped over,” she said. “I thought you’d come out when you heard him.”
Adam didn’t look up. “I don’t suppose he came to see me.”
She started to answer, when Mamm’s words slipped back into her mind. Mamm and Daad
had thought she cared for Seth when they were all teenagers. Surely Adam didn’t think
so, too? That was ridiculous, wasn’t it?
“He just dropped by to let me know that Chloe had visited Susanna’s shop after we
left. He thought I should know.”
Adam did look up then.
“She didn’t say anything to Susanna,” she added.
“Gut.” Adam turned back to the clock.
She lingered, not liking the distance she felt between them but not sure what to do
about it. “It was kind of Seth to let me know. He’s grown up since we were teenagers.”
Adam made a noise that could only be called a grunt. “It took him long enough.”
“Ja.” She moved closer to the table, standing behind him and watching his broad, work-roughened
hands moving over the wood with such delicacy. “I always knew he’d jump the fence
one day. He couldn’t be serious about anything for more than a minute, it seemed.”
Adam’s hands stilled. “The girls all thought he was something special, ain’t so?”
“Not all the girls,” she said. “Not me.”
Was that relief in his face? She couldn’t be sure, and she was afraid to say too much
lest he feel she was thinking too much about Seth.
Adam put down the emery paper he was using and tilted his head back to look at her.
“You let him take you home from singing.”
“Nobody else asked me.” His face was intriguing, seen upside down. “I thought maybe
you would, but you didn’t.”
His lips quirked, and she sensed that the storm was over—for the moment, at least.
“I was shy,” he said.
“You were slow,” she retorted, smiling. She bent to kiss him.
“You are upside down,” he murmured against her lips. He turned, catching her around
the waist, and pulled her down on his lap, to kiss her again. “That is better.”
“Ja, it is.” She put her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his. “I
love you, Adam. I know I can rely on you.”
He seemed to withdraw, pulling away from her even though he didn’t actually move.
“I should finish this work.”
“Ja, all right.” She got up, feeling suddenly chilled. Something was still wrong between
them, and she didn’t know what it was.