A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series) (14 page)

Miriam and Lydia came out within a few minutes, with Rachel screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Is she all right?” Aaron asked.

“
Ya
.” Gabe smiled at his wife. “That’s her midmorning snack howl. You get used to it pretty fast.”

“I could use a snack myself,” David said.

“I have some of my
mamm
’s cinnamon cake in the buggy.” Lydia glanced around, and shrugged when Gabe raised his eyebrows in question. “She’d already made it before last night’s guests canceled.”

Aaron walked down the steps, knocking his hat against his leg
before replacing it on his head. “We might as well drive back to the cabins, if you all have time. I have some ideas, and I’d like to hear your opinions.”

“I like ideas,” David said over Rachel’s hollers. “Especially when they’re served with cake.”

Chapter 11

G
race loved her little sister. When she thought about it, she loved her more than Stanley and Hunter combined. But that child could scream louder than Lily when she started crying. How could such sounds come out of such a small baby? And why? Didn’t she understand that they were headed to the buggy as fast as they could walk?

What puzzled her even more was that her father and Miriam seemed amused by it. They both kept smiling at each other, practically laughing.

It was no laughing matter in Grace’s opinion. People were starting to stare, and Grace’s ears felt as if they might start bleeding at any moment.

Blessed silence filled the buggy as soon as Rachel began to nurse.

“Whew. That was close. I was afraid she was going to shout the
kapp
right off her head.” Grace sank against the back of the buggy seat as her dad called out to Chance.

“Worried, were you?” He glanced back at her.

“
Ya
. Weren’t you?”

“No. I remember you crying the same way.”

“Me? You’re saying I was that loud?” Grace leaned forward, staring from her father to Rachel, contentedly nursing at Miriam’s
breast. Her face was peaceful now, almost angelic. One hand was resting against Miriam’s dress. “I couldn’t have been that loud. Half the town must have heard her.”

“I believe you were. Rachel must have inherited it from our side of the family.”

“Makes sense,” Miriam said. “We had quiet babies. My
mamm
says even my
bruders
were quiet. But our Rachel has healthy lungs.”

They continued that way for a few miles, Rachel nursing and Grace trying to remember. Had she ever been like that? Was it possible? Finally Miriam sat the baby up, supporting her in the front with one hand and rubbing her back gently with the other.

A loud burp filled the buggy.

Grace giggled so hard she fell back against the seat.

“That she also gets from me,” Gabe boasted.

They traveled in peace on the road out of town, leaving the crowds behind them.

“What did you think of the shops, Grace?” Miriam resettled Rachel at her other breast.

“I thought they were awfully crowded. I didn’t know we had so many people in Pebble Creek.”

“Technically in Cashton.” Gabe pulled gently on Chance’s reins to direct him to the right side of the road so that an
Englisch
car could pass.

“
Ya
. I know it is Cashton, but I think of it by our name—Pebble Creek.”

“Well, Pebble Creek is the river’s name. Amish refer to the area as Pebble Creek because we’re not all in the city limits.”

Her dad had explained this before. It seemed the older he got, the more he repeated himself. She decided it would be rude to point that out. “
Ya
. I like the name Pebble Creek better than Cashton, though. It’s softer.”

“Could be you like rivers more than towns.”

“That too.”

“So what did you think of Amish Anthem?” This time Miriam
raised Rachel to her shoulder to burp her. The sound that came out was more girlish, but it still made Grace giggle. She liked the way her sister smiled at her over Miriam’s shoulder.

“Some of the things they sold were nice enough, but it was much too crowded. I enjoyed the porch more than the store.”

Gabe pulled his beard thoughtfully. “I was wondering if you two would like to have a kitchen like the one Drake designed. We could rip ours out and redo it.”

Grace knew her dad was making a joke. He might be old but he wasn’t crazy. If he’d been serious, she would have asked Miriam to take him to see Doc Hanson. Miriam knew he was kidding too.

“
Ya
. I’d like that root cellar in the kitchen. How about you, Grace? Then we wouldn’t have to use the pantry.”

Narrisch
. Possibly both of her parents were
narrisch
. She’d heard that falling
in lieb
could make you that way, and it seemed to have happened.

She’d talk to Joshua and Abigail about it the next day. Her new grandparents were good at explaining things to her. They were the best. They were
wise
. The word sounded exactly right in her head. When she said it, pictures of Joshua and Abigail always popped up in her mind. She enjoyed Sundays at their home. Sometimes her whole family went over to the Kings’ on Saturday afternoon, and she was allowed to stay and spend the night there.

Those nights were the very best—filled with hot chocolate, games of checkers, and
daddi
Joshua’s stories. He would tell her tales of when he was a young man, when he’d fish along the banks of Pebble Creek, when there was no noise from cars along the roads and panthers could be seen along the opposite bank.

Remembering those stories made her fingers itch to draw her
grossdaddi
’s memories.

They arrived at the cabins in no time at all. As soon as they pulled into the parking area, Grace remembered why she’d wanted to come along with her family.

The cabins still appeared tired and lonely sitting among the trees,
though someone had recently given the trees a cutting. Instead of making things look improved, to Grace it seemed as though all that had been accomplished was allowing a visitor to better see what still needed to be done.

But as she climbed down from the buggy, her eyes were seeing something else as well, and her fingers were tapping against her book bag.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come inside for a bite to eat? You’re bound to be hungry.” Miriam reached out to pull back the strings of Grace’s prayer
kapp
. It was something Grace had seen mothers do for their daughters a hundred times, but she hadn’t thought anyone would ever do it for her.

She smiled at Miriam, shook her head, and then she threw her arms around her waist and gave her a tight hug.

“All right, then.
Danki
for that.”

“I’m going to draw at the river.” Grace turned and began to run down toward the bank.

“Be careful,” Miriam called.

“I will!”

She heard her father talking to the other men, and Miriam had been right—her stomach was growling even now. But her hunger pains would wait. The sun was slanting through the trees just so, splashing on top of the water as it sloshed and splattered past the cabins. Another hour and she’d miss what was left of the morning shadows.

Sitting with her back against a red cedar tree, she pulled out her pad and pencil, and she began to draw.

Directly in front of her was the water, and to the right was the corner of one of the cabins. Chokeberry covered the cabin’s side, and though someone had cut much of it down, bluebirds were searching among the branches for early fruit. She knew they wouldn’t find any, but perhaps there was something else they could eat there. She’d have to ask Miss Bena. Although the woman was severe, she knew more about birds than anyone else Grace had ever met.

A fish splashed in the river at the exact same moment a red-tailed hawk dove, just barely missing the fish.

Grace paused, thinking of the circle of life, of how the fish had narrowly escaped and how the hawk would continue searching or go hungry.

She bent back over her tablet and continued to sketch.

Chapter 12

A
aron met the stares of the group of folks sitting around the table in the cabin’s office. His
onkel
Ervin had set the room up to resemble a comfortable Amish kitchen and sitting room—a real Amish home. In other words, it looked nothing like Amish Anthem.

He stared down at his notes and cleared his throat.

It didn’t help that he’d known these people only two days. Or maybe it did.

They had no expectations of him. So what if his plan didn’t work? He’d pack up Elizabeth and children, put them on the bus to Indiana, and take them back home.

His arm brushed against Beth’s picture, still in his pants pocket, still weighing on his mind. The young girl would probably prefer to stay here, as Elizabeth most likely would. If he could help them to do so, it would be better for everyone. Of that he’d convinced himself last night.

Lydia waited impatiently, watching him.

Miriam held her baby as she sat next to Gabe, who was reaching for a second piece of cake. David seemed in no hurry. The man appeared to have one speed—measured and deliberate. Seth hadn’t shown up this morning, but Aaron would need him as well.

“I know you’re wondering why I asked you to go to town with me today.”

“Seemed to be a waste of time,” Lydia muttered.