Secret, The (38 page)

He nodded and smiled sadly. “I appreciate your coming.” He touched her elbow. “I’m sure you’ve considered this, but you have to realize there’s always the possibility our child doesn’t wish to be found.”

“Such news could turn a person’s life upside-down, for certain,” she agreed. “Might find it horribly upsetting . . . even reject the notion.”

“And . . . what if he or she doesn’t know about being adopted? It’s a terrible risk.”

“Jah, ’tis.” Overhead, the wind chime was surprisingly still. “And I can’t be gone from my family indefinitely.” She was needed at home, for gardening and canning . . . and for the fall wedding season.

For Adam’s wedding. And for Judah.

Oh, how much she had to share with her husband. He wasn’t the easiest to talk to, but he was a good man, and he’d weathered her ups and downs through the years. Judah had no knowledge whatsoever of the baby she’d conceived with Samuel—her cherished secret.

I owe Judah an apology, too. . . .

“Well, I really must be goin’.” She moved toward the steps.

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you,” he said. “Be safe, Lettie.”

She turned to wave. Then, seeing her driver parked across the street, she hurried to the van, breathing more freely now. She’d accomplished what she’d come to do.

The first of many difficult steps.

That night Lettie dreamed of Judah and saw his dear face once again. He was carrying a wee lamb in his arms, giving it a baby bottle to spare the lamb’s life.

Your father’s such a gentle shepherd
, Lettie had once said at the table in front of all of them, even though he was truly considered a sheep farmer. Adam had nodded, looking right quick at Grace.

When she awakened, she felt the familiar pangs of homesickness. Yet her long journey had just begun. She would search for her firstborn child, the newborn taken from her much too quickly. Torn away from her . . . out of her life.

She wept for the infant she’d lost. Mamm had deprived her of laying eyes on that sweet bundle
—“the sinful result of forbid
den love,”
she’d said so many times Lettie believed she was, in fact, consigned to hell.

“I must forgive Mamm, too,” she said, rising to meet the day. “And Daed.”

There were times when she honestly wondered if her husband and children would even want her back . . . if they knew her secret. And if she didn’t return soon, there’d be dire talk of the
Bann
, too. She could easily fall into despair thinking about all that her family must be struggling with now, in her absence. And not just the amount of work left over from her leaving. No, there must be a terrible sense of rejection and the anguish of not knowing where she was or why she’d want to abandon them.

Yet, on the other hand, Lettie felt strangely relieved, as if a very heavy burden had been lifted from her. Not allowing herself to dwell on bleak thoughts, she opened the window and welcomed the warm May morning, a breeze catching the curtain, making it flutter.

I’ve come this far!

On a tree branch nearby, a jenny wren chirped happily. Then, moving away from the window, Lettie gathered up her clothes and began to pack to the cheerful song of the little bird. She was determined to locate the Amish midwife. Somehow, she would.

A favorite verse of Judah’s came to mind—one from the prophet Isaiah, in the Old Testament.
And the Lord shall guide
thee continually.

Bowing her head, she asked God to do just that.

chapter
thirty-three

G
race could hear the muted sound of voices coming from the Singing as she slipped around the back of Deacon Amos’s barn and leaned hard against a tree trunk facing the cornfield. The bark was still warm from the sun, fair as this Lord’s Day had been. Yet the day had also been a difficult one.

Sighing, she gathered her wits. She’d exited the barn without Henry, who had been milling about with a group of singles—fellows who were not yet engaged or seriously courting anyone. Surprisingly, Yonnie Bontrager had been among them.
Surely
he and Becky will pair up, like usual,
she thought, glad for this moment of respite behind the barn. There, where the ministerial brethren sometimes came and stood in a cluster, hashing out church issues and whatnot.

Pressing her hands against the tree’s rough bark, she soaked up the quiet. It was impossible not to contemplate the thorny evening ahead of her—ahead of
them.
She’d glanced at Henry several times as they were singing with the rest of the group, pondering how best to do what she knew she must. She’d waited too long already, and she wondered what he might think of her when all was said and done.

Henry has no passion for life,
she thought.
Nor for me
. . .

She stared at the night sky, letting her gaze drift over the wide expanse of stars and the blackness beyond. With all of her heart, she’d wanted their relationship to be mutually affectionate. And she had waited for him to make the first move toward marriage, all those months after they’d become serious . . . yearning for his marriage proposal. To think all the while Mamma had been silently suffering her own relationship problems.

The stars seemed much farther away this night, and she found herself reaching up and pinching her fingers to frame an especially bright one. Some of them were six million light years away, she’d read in a school book. In that moment, surrounded by the majesty of God’s creation, she felt ever so small.

Ach, my wants and wishes seem petty just now.

She willed herself to be content with her soon-to-be lot, since breaking up with Henry Stahl would mean certain Maidelhood.

“A reserved man can be hard to live with,”
Mamma had said. Remembering bolstered Grace’s courage. Mamma would be in favor of her breakup with Henry.

Just then, she heard voices coming from the side of the barn. Right away she knew it was Adam and his fiancée, Pris-cilla. Grace leaned to peer around the tree and held her breath to listen.

“You
were
gawking at me,” Priscilla spouted off. “And your face was none too approving.”

“Aw, now, Prissy . . .”

The sound of sniffles traveled to Grace. “You must not like the color of my dress,” Priscilla continued. “Is that so, Adam?”

“Never said that.”

She heard rustling now, like one of them was pacing in the tall grass a few yards from her hiding place.

They’re arguing like this
. . .
over a dress?
She wondered if Adam had endured other such sassy encounters.

Grace had recently seen her sister, Mandy, with a new beau, Becky Riehl’s cousin. Mandy had seemed so comfortable, even joyful. In fact, this very night after the singing portion of the gathering was through, Grace had noticed several other blissfully happy couples . . . talking face to face, smiling and laughing.

Grace shook her head, annoyed at her brother for putting up with such an outspoken girl. Adam deserved better.

Then and there, the thought of so many lacking relationships weighed on her, and she hurried away from her spot to find Henry before she lost her nerve.

More than a half hour later, Grace was still waiting for Henry. He was certainly taking his time. Was he discussing fieldwork with the other fellows, perhaps? She’d considered simply leaving and walking home, but she made herself stay put right near the barn door.

Dozens of couples streamed out from the Singing as the night progressed. And such a lovely evening it was . . . still mild from the balmy day. Mandy and her beau strolled out through the open barn door, laughing and holding hands.

Waiting with as much patience as she could muster, Grace noticed Yonnie Bontrager walk through the door by himself. How peculiar it seemed, since she was accustomed to seeing him with Becky. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked for her friend, having seen her earlier in the long line of girls. But Becky was nowhere around.

Unexpectedly, Yonnie turned and looked at Grace just then. A smile spread across his face, and his eyes caught hers if but for a moment. Then, still smiling, he gave a nod and turned to make his way toward the lane.
On foot, like always,
she thought, still surprised he was alone.

Quickly, Grace dismissed his gaze and too-broad smile, and she wandered toward Henry’s open buggy, more than ready to have the evening behind her.

Heather clicked the safety latch on her mother’s bracelet, then slid it up her arm. Eyes woozy from hours of thesis work, she went out the door, pleased at having written five new pages. A break was well deserved. She was beginning to feel confined and was curious about a funky little coffee shop she’d spotted the other day, so she decided to venture there.
Hopefully it’s
still open. . . .

Her dad had left another voice mail, saying he wanted to see her. “To get your input on several ideas swimming in my head about that farmhouse we’re going to build,” he’d said, laughing. “I’m coming your way in a few weeks, once I wrap up this project. Okay with you?”

His coming might not be such a bad idea. That way she could ask him to bring some of her more casual dresses and skirts, since not a single pair of jeans fit right anymore. Of course, with summer coming, she could just invest in a few shorts and tops at the outlet malls, which were as plentiful around here as eggs in the Riehls’ hen house.

And, too, these past few days observing Andy and Marian Riehl interact with their large family made Heather wonder if maybe she shouldn’t try to gently level with her dad—tell him the real reason why she’d run away.

Grace drew in a small breath when at last she saw Henry coming out through the barn door, glancing from side to side.
Looking for me
, she thought, suddenly sad.

She would not enjoy another Singing for a long time, she was quite sure. Why would she care to attend the cheery gatherings when, in all truth, she would feel anything but cheerful?

“Henry?” she called softly from where she stood near his buggy. “I’m here.”

To think she was about to inflict on him a pain similar to that Mamma had inflicted on Dat. Cringing, she knew it was not wise to ride with Henry tonight—even for one last time. No, she must speak to him now and let him go home alone.

“Henry . . . I’d like to talk to you,” she said, her throat husky as she moved toward him.

He nodded and motioned for her to get into his open carriage.

“No, I mean here,” she said, her body tense. “Do you mind?”

He shrugged.

“Can we walk that way . . . toward the cornfield?” she asked, feeling strangely forward as he fell into step with her. “Over yonder.”

She wondered if he might ask what was on her mind, but as was typical, he left it to her to take the lead. Yet now instead of experiencing her former melancholy, she was nearly encompassed with anger.

“It’s not right,” she said suddenly.

He turned, studying her in the dim light of the quarter moon. “What ain’t?”

She paused to consider her words. “Our engagement.” She took a few more steps before she stopped and faced him. “Maybe we moved too quickly,” she said more quietly.